I did, but where I used to quail and cave into myself, I now felt anger replace that weakness. Defense, though I had no ground to defend myself.

“You never intended to help me.” Thunder rolled over his face, his eyes turning dark and teeth flashing like lightning.

“I’m going to the Well to reverse the curse. Then I can help everyone.”

“And how will you get there?” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “We’re at the Trials with no way to destroy them. Your wish was our only plan! What was your plan?” He sneered. “Did you think you could get through the Trials on your own?”

“You saw me giving you a wish. Right here in this spot. It must be after I return from the Well. That’s proof of our success, right?”

“That vision never happened!” he burst out. “I told you that because I thought you were nervous about giving me a wish!”

Lies upon lies. My inner ice wasn’t thick enough for this. I was still weakhearted from burying Mutti. “You got past the Trials last time, Sven.”

“I didn’t!” His fingers dug into my shoulder blades. “Every last one of my companions died trying to get through these Trials.”

I struggled to find words. What did he mean he didn’t get through the Trials? “But you had a wish. I gave you one—”

“I’d already used it!” The confession spilled out of him like a splash of venom. He released me abruptly. I suspected he hadn’t intended to tell me his secret. “That’s how I got my ability to see the future. I wished for it.”

I stumbled backward. “You didn’t use the wish to get to the Well?”

“Seeing the future would tell me if we succeeded either way. I thought it would give us the upper hand.” And it would give him a power—a fake Talent—even if they failed. “But the wish gave me partial foresight. It’s unpredictable.”

“You weren’t specific enough when you used it.”

“You didn’t prepare me! You could have told me how to use it effectively!”

So it was my fault he’d used the wish for personal gain? “All these people here believe you have a Talent. They believe you made it to the Well and came back to fight for them. You need to tell them the truth. King Mattias could be here within the hour.”

“I’m not lying to them. They know about my Talent—”

“It’s not a Talent.” His entire fame, entire rebellion, had been built on this story he told of completing the pilgrimage. Being granted a Talent. Returning after losing all of his companions . . . when he hadn’t even made it to the Well. He didn’t even know what the Trials were.