He didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to stand by a gate and brood over it.
“Zoya,” he called, as he jogged back to her and the guards. “Have you ever heard of something called gerkenig?”
“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.”