Nightwell water going into the canals? My beloved canals. The people of Fairhoven would be so desperate for water again, they would lap at it like parched dogs. I pictured a Winterune filled with Coralythes. Winter’s breath. This would be the end of all things good. “Can the Well of Talents stop that?”

“I have faith it can fight it.”

This pilgrimage was beyond me—so much more than my own curse or Wishtress Talent. “Then let’s go.”

“How sweet.” The cold sneer split the thin air like an axe would a twig. Sven stepped into view, the wall of mist a few feet behind him. Hedy and Kees flanked him.

The fallen stones of my inner wall trembled, trying to rebuild. But I’d let Bastiaan in and there was no way to refortify so quickly.

Kees took in my recovering state. “She’s been in the Trial all this time. She came back to defeat the Trial for us.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Bastiaan asked Sven. “What, you didn’t want your loyal bodyguards to learn you forced your love into a Trial?”

Kees turned to Sven for an explanation. Sven didn’t acknowledge him.

“I knew.” If Hedy meant to validate Sven’s loyalty, it didn’t work. Kees now looked betrayed and confused.

I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure what. My voice stuck in my throat. How did Sven know I’d defeated the Winter Trial?

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Captured. By Mattias and his militairen with their Banes.”

“Yet you’re here,” Bastiaan pointed out.

“My foresight gave us barely enough time to conceal ourselves.”

Bastiaan snorted. “You mean abandon everyone else.”

Sven ignored Bastiaan’s jabs—though his ears turned pink. “Kees saw the Trial mist go still and told us that meant it’d been defeated. We entered in order to save everyone.” He addressed me for the first time. “And you’ll do the same thing in the next Trial.”

Only then did I realize a second mist awaited on the other side of the frozen canal. This mist was a budding green color. It must represent Spring. What sort of threats could Spring bring? I’d always hated the shifting of the seasons to the warm months because that meant working for Oma at markt, not being able to escape onto the canals, and being trapped by my own physical weakness.

“I’m not doing this for you, Sven.”

“I don’t care who you’re doing it for. Get us to the Well.” His eyes darkened. “It was the original plan after all, right? You pave the way?”

“It was your original plan, reliant on me giving you a wish I don’t have.”

“Oh, but you do have one.” His hand twitched and Hedy nocked an arrow. Aimed at my chest. “Even if it’s only one.”

“You want me to die?”