Hanne cut her a withering glance. The parties and balls and constant social interaction of Heartwood had exhausted her, but they just made Nina feel more alive. She liked dressing up with Hanne, she liked the whirl of people, and she finally felt like she was positioned to garner the intelligence she needed.
The prince’s favor would ensure that they were invited to all the best parties, and she’d been able to eavesdrop on Brum’s conversation with Redvin for most of the previous night as they dined on smoked eel and braised leeks and discussed plans for some new weapon. Being Mila Jandersdat had made her nearly invisible—a young widow of no consequence, not very bright or well informed, happy to shadow her mistress—to everyone but the queen. Queen Agathe watched Nina from every corner of every ballroom. She had been pious before, visiting the Chapel of the Wellspring each morning and night to pray to Djel for her son’s health. But since Rasmus had begun to improve, she’d become even more devout. A good first step.
“We don’t have to go on the hunt,” said Nina. “We just need to get outside and then talk your father into taking us into the drüskelle sector.”
“He won’t do it! Women aren’t permitted there.”
“Not even to see the kennels?”
Hanne hesitated. “I know he’s brought my mother to see the wolves.”
“And you’ve been inside.”
“I told you, it was years ago.”
“You liked going with him, didn’t you?” A little Grisha girl who didn’t even know what she was, following her father the witchhunter to work.
“I liked any chance to be with him. He was … he was fun.”
“Jarl Brum?”
“When I was very little. And then … he didn’t change exactly. He’d always been stern, but … Have you ever seen a petrified forest? The trees are still trees, but they don’t bend to the wind. They have no leaves to rustle. He was the mighty Commander Brum, unyielding, the ruthless witchhunter, Fjerda’s scythe. The more he sopped up their praise, the less like my father he became.”
It’s Fjerda, Nina thought, not for the first time. She had no mercy for Jarl Brum, no matter who he’d been as a young father. But she understood that all of this hadn’t begun with him and it wouldn’t end with him either. Fjerda with its hard ways and its old hatreds filled men with shame and anger. It made the weak weaker and the strong cruel.
“Can you draw me a plan of the drüskelle buildings?”
Hanne huffed a breath. “This may be the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
“Maybe so, but can you draw me a plan?”
“Yes, but you’ll still have to get us past the gate.”
“Don’t you worry, Hanne Brum. I have a gift for getting past Fjerdan defenses.”
14
ZOYA
“WHERE IS SHE?”
They’d traveled via airship to a field just a few miles from the sanatorium, the Sun Soldiers bending light around the craft to keep them camouflaged. It was a trick David had devised and Alina had pioneered to evade the Darkling’s forces during the civil war. Zoya remembered that terrifying flight from the Spinning Wheel, summoning wind to keep them aloft for hour after hour as they tried to put some distance between themselves and their pursuers. That was the same day Adrik had lost his arm to the Darkling’s shadow soldiers.
She watched the Darkling now, seated across from her in the coach. His hands and feet were shackled and four Sun Soldiers rode alongside. The rest of their unit had gone ahead to prepare the sanatorium and set up security.
The Darkling had been kept blindfolded in the airship, and the coach’s windows were covered by shades that blocked the view but let in the afternoon light. The less he knew about where they were going, the better. Despite the chains that bound him, it was disconcerting to share such close quarters, the shadows creeping in around them.
He has no power, she had to keep reminding herself. And she knew he was just as uneasy as she was. The expression on his face when the airship had taken off would give her joy for the rest of her life.
“Where is she?” he repeated, his gray quartz eyes glinting in the gloom. “You might as well tell me now.”
“How is it you don’t know?” asked Zoya. “Your dear Sankta Elizaveta was nearly omniscient.”
The Darkling studied the closed shade as if there was a view to behold. “She wouldn’t tell me.”
Zoya didn’t bother to stifle her pleasure. “A jealous Saint. Who knew? I’ll tell you about the meeting after you tell me about the thorn wood. Is this monastery you spoke of real?”