“I believe it’s a stew,” said Count Kirigin. “Made with halibut?”
“It’s not a stew,” said Nikolai. “At least, not that I know of. But it’s given me an idea.”
Zoya tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. “Is it a formula for quadrupling the amount of titanium we have?”
“Afraid not. This is a formula for blood.”
“Our blood or the Fjerdans’？”
“Saving ours, spilling theirs.”
It would mean sending Zoya away again. It would mean taking a tremendous gamble. Arkesk or the permafrost? If the Fjerdans couldn’t decide where to strike, maybe he could make the decision for them.
Nikolai began the long walk back to the laboratory. Dawn was coming and he had a mission to prepare for. He would write a letter for Zoya too, ask her to take care of Linnea Opjer if he didn’t survive, tell her all the things he hadn’t said on that damned airship and that he wasn’t fool enough to turn around and say now. He didn’t pause and his steps didn’t falter.
He would not look backward either.
35
NINA
YLVA FOUND THEM IN NINA’S BED, gowns half on, a rumple of silk and mouths bruised from kissing.
She stood frozen in the doorway and then said, “Your father is already on base and we’re expected at the airfield in an hour. Pack a small bag and wear warm clothing. And Hanne, for Djel’s sake, cover that mark on your neck.”
As soon as the door shut, Nina and Hanne burst into nervous laughter, but it didn’t last.
“They’re going to send me back to the convent,” Hanne said.
Nina snorted. “To live in isolation with a big group of women? That’s the last place they’ll send you.”
Hanne groaned and began to shuck off her gown as she strode to the dressing room and poured water into the basin. She was all lean muscle and tawny skin, and Nina wanted to drag her back to the warmth of their bed and stay there forever. But there was no forever. Not in Fjerda.
“You’re right,” Hanne said as she splashed water on her face. “They’re going to marry me off.”
“To a prince.”
“You’re so sure he’ll ask?”
“Yes.” And last night Hanne had been sure too. This morning they both wanted to believe there would be some kind of escape. But even if the prince didn’t propose to Hanne, someone else would. She’d been the darling of Heartwood.
Nina yanked her gown over her head and exchanged it for a simpler wool dress. “Hanne … Let’s leave.”
“What?” Hanne had pulled on a skirt and blouse and was tailoring away the love bite Nina seemed to have left on her neck.
“Let’s leave. Just like you said, but with less galloping. We’ll go to Ravka. We’ll go to Novyi Zem.”
She knew what Hanne was going to say, that she couldn’t disappoint her parents, that she had a duty to remain, that she could do more good for the Grisha and Fjerda as a princess and one day a queen.
Hanne pulled a knitted Fjerdan vest over her blouse. “How does that look?”
“Absolutely awful.”
“I thought so.” Hanne sat down on the bed to wriggle into her boots. “Do you think the Hringsa could get us out?”
Nina paused with her hands on the buttons of her dress, unsure she’d heard correctly. “I … Yes. I think so.”
Hanne grinned at her, and it was like Nina had been punched in the chest by a ray of sunshine. She thought she might have to sit down. “Then let’s leave. Not right away. If we can still help Rasmus, we have to try. But then we go.”
“We go,” Nina repeated, not quite believing it. They would need time to plan—and for Nina to figure out what to do about Joran.
“We’ll have to be careful. My mother may try to separate us.”
“I thought you were going to say no.”
“Do you want to talk me out of it?”
“No! Absolutely not.” Nina seized her hands and yanked her up from the bed. Saints, she was tall. “I just…” She didn’t know what to say. That she hadn’t felt real hope since she’d lost Matthias, that she’d thought she’d lost her chance at joy. Until now. Until Hanne. She stood up on her toes and planted a kiss on Hanne’s lips. “Never let me go.”
“Never,” Hanne said. “Do you still think peace is possible?”
“Only if Ravka can push Fjerda back decisively. If this turns into an invasion, Fjerda has no reason to sue for peace. But if Ravka makes a real showing, Fjerda will have to consider its options.”
“I don’t think my father will retreat. Not this time. His reputation can’t afford it, and peace is not the vision he has for Fjerda’s future.”
“Then let’s hope the prince is strong enough to choose another path.”
“We’ll make sure he is. And then we’ll get free of this place.”
Free. A mad word. A magical word. Nina wasn’t even sure what that might feel like anymore. But she wanted to find out.
* * *
The airship was not one of the luxury craft used by royals and nobles, but a military vessel, painted gray and blue for better camouflage against the sea and sky. They were given quarters to share with another family and traveled through the day over the True Sea. At sunset, Ylva came to collect them for the landing. She’d barely been able to look either of them in the eye.
“Where are we?” Hanne asked.
Nina peered out of the window and was baffled by what she saw below. “Is that an island?”
But as the airship descended, Nina realized that they were not landing on an island at all. It was a massive naval base. She could see huge warships docked alongside it, and flocks of heavily armed flyers parked on its runways, ready to leap into the air. Spires like giant prongs were arrayed in curving rows on either side of the base—viewing towers. They looked like teeth and gave the base the appearance of a gaping mouth. Uniformed soldiers and military personnel swarmed over the deck like insects, many of them congregating near a central structure of buildings that served as a command center. Its flat roof was painted with the Fjerdan flag—the Grimjer wolf rampant.
Dread sat heavy on Nina’s shoulders, a living, muscled thing that whispered doom in her ear. She knew little about weapons of war, but she knew Ravka had nothing like this monstrosity. It was beyond imagination.
The airship set down on one of the base’s landing strips, and she followed Hanne and Ylva along the gangway.
Redvin was waiting at the bottom of the ramp in his drüskelle uniform. He grinned, and Nina knew she would be content to live a hundred years and never see that expression of eager anticipation on his grizzled face again. “Welcome to Leviathan’s Mouth.”
“Where is Commander Brum?” Nina asked.
“Where he needs to be,” said Redvin. “I’ll show you to your quarters.”
“What is this place?” whispered Hanne. She sounded as scared as Nina felt. All their plans and schemes seemed futile in the face of power like this.
Their quarters turned out to be a cramped box with bunk beds tucked against both walls.
“Well, thankfully we have a private washroom and we’ll all be together,” said Ylva. Nina suspected she meant it. Hanne’s mother might never trust them on their own again.