“I could ask the same of you!” Nina said, and she had the temerity to kick Zoya’s foreleg with her tiny foot.
I put my life at risk to get you back, Nina. The Apparat could still be alive. Your cover may be worthless.
“I’m going to take that chance. I have to.”
Zoya huffed a breath and watched dust and pebbles billow through the cave. The cost of the dragon’s form was just as high as she’d suspected it would be. She felt Nina’s hurt, and it only made Zoya want to keep her closer, find a way to shield her from harm. It was unbearable.
Promise you’ll come home to us.
“I can’t.”
Then promise you’ll be careful.
“I can’t do that either.”
Wretched girl.
But she was going to let Nina go. Nina Zenik was a soldier. Zoya had trained her well. And she had the right to choose her own path.
Climb on and hold tight, Zoya instructed.
Nina laughed. “That I can do.”
Zoya craned her neck back to look at Nina. She was beaming, her cheeks rosy. She looked nothing like the grieving girl Zoya had known. Happiness and anticipation shimmered around her as if they were her true shape, as if she wore a halo of gold.
Zoya leapt from the mouth of the cave and let Nina’s joy carry her over the sea.
She shrouded them both in mist as they approached Leviathan, but absolute chaos had erupted aboard the base and there was plenty of cover. She saw rafts and boats arriving and departing in swarms as officers, soldiers, and medical personnel traveled to and from the mainland. The battle had come to a standstill for now; Zoya knew that didn’t mean peace.
Saying goodbye to Nina again wasn’t easy, but Zoya wasn’t going to stand in the way of her decision. If she really believed she could resume her cover as Mila Jandersdat, then she could still be a valuable asset and feed vital information to Ravka. But there was more. Zoya sensed the pull of Nina’s longing toward … someone vibrant, bright as a new sun, warm and coppery. The girl couldn’t stay away from Fjerdans, it seemed. Zoya wondered if she should warn her against falling in love, against the danger it could put her in undercover. But it was foolish to think she could contain Nina Zenik’s heart.
“I have to warn you,” said Nina as they set down near one of the piers. “Tell the king we can’t rely on Prince Rasmus. Hanne still has hope for him, but he’s not who we thought he was. Not at all.”
One less ally. The prince had let his country’s hatred choose his road.
I’ll create a distraction so you can rejoin the soldiers on base without notice.
Nina grinned. “That shouldn’t be much of a challenge.”
Zoya bumped Nina with her snout. It was a gesture more intimate than she ever would have been tempted to make in her human body. Stay as safe as you can.
Nina set a hand on Zoya’s scales. She rested her cheek briefly against Zoya’s head. “Thank you,” she whispered, and then she was vanishing up a ramp and into the bustle of the base.
Zoya wondered if she would ever see Nina Zenik again.
She set out over the waves, then whirled back around, exploding through the mist as she arced over the naval base. She heard screams from below, felt the Fjerdans’ terror like an icy wave, and reveled in it. Fear was a language universally understood. She drew in a breath and released a crackling burst of lightning, then banked to the left and headed back to the mainland, her wings spread wide, feeling the salt spray against her belly, as she coasted low over the water. She could still sense Nina’s powerful heart, the steady beat of her courage.
When you are tied to all things, there is no limit to what you may know.
And apparently to what she would have to feel. All this emotion was exhausting. She was Zoya and she was the knight known as Juris and she was the dragon he had once slain.
She circled the battlefield, noted the Fjerdans in retreat. It was hard to see so many bodies on the ground, feel the grief emanating from soldiers as they tended to their wounded and mourned their dead. But she could find no sign of the Starless Saint or his followers. The Darkling had been the first to kneel, though she had no illusions that he’d suddenly come around to their side. He wasn’t done, and yet she couldn’t guess his intent. His presence on the battlefield had been like a gap in all that life and fear, a deep well of eternity.
Zoya turned toward the village of Pachesyana, where the Ravkan forces had set up their headquarters. The soldiers’ camp came into view and then the royal command tent. She knew she needed to focus to manage a landing in this small space, but she was more tired than she’d realized. She’d done too much, too fast. She could feel her control over the dragon’s shape slipping, and then she wasn’t flying, she was falling.