I went cold. Colder than I’d been when I battled Winter. “Stop.”

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” There was no need for Sven to share this—no reason other than malice.

“Sven, don’t—”

“She’s a murderer.” Sick delight coated his words.

Bastiaan waited . . . as though more was coming. Or maybe he hadn’t heard Sven correctly.

“She murdered children,” Sven continued.

I closed my eyes, exposed in the worst way—before my enemies and the man who, minutes before, had asked to be the safe wall around my heart.

Bastiaan’s hand in mine didn’t waver. “We’ll enter the second Trial for you, Sven. You don’t have to threaten us.”

“Did you even hear what I said?”

“I heard.” No change in Bastiaan’s voice. He was likely speaking through a filter of stone like I had been doing since waking with my curse. I knew how to maintain indifference despite pain, disgust, fear, hurt. It seemed Bastiaan did too.

“And you’re still holding her hand?”

“Yes.” If anything, Bastiaan’s grip tightened. His fingers squeezed and then twitched, like he was snapping them. “Do we have an agreement?”

“You can defeat the second Trial. I think we’ll keep Myrthe as a bargaining chip—as a reason for you to do your job and not abandon us.”

“He’ll need her,” Kees said quietly.

“I’m beginning to think you never made it to the Well, Sven,” Bastiaan said. “Or have you forgotten that the way out is the way we came in?” Bastiaan’s fingers snapped again, then something in him seemed to settle. Resignation. Was he trying to use his dead Talent?

Kees frowned. “How did you defeat the Trials alone, Sven?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten.” A layer of panic hardened Sven’s words.

He looked to me . . . waiting for me to spill his secret. I liked that he feared me in this moment. I liked it so much that I allowed a cool smile to grace my lips.

“These Trials will reset by sunrise.” Bastiaan sounded impatient. I marveled at how Bastiaan had become the one dealing out threats.

That was why Sven hated him too.

“Go then.”

We needed no further permission. I skated in reverse, not ready to take my eyes off Hedy’s arrow tip. Bastiaan turned his back on them and walked toward the Spring mist, tugging me after him.

“Don’t forget who you’re with!” Sven called after us. “Look the wrong way and she might stab you in the back. If she can murder children, there’s no telling what she’s capable of!”

I could hardly breathe. My hand felt ashamed to be in Bastiaan’s. He probably thought Sven was bluffing.

What would he say when he learned Sven’s words were true?