Nina prayed her panic didn’t show. Did Brum recognise her? He looked exactly the same: long gold hair touched by grey at the temples, the lean jaw marked by a tidy beard, the drüskelle uniform – black and silver, the right sleeve emblazoned with the silver wolf’s head. It had been more than a year since she’d seen him, but she would never forget that face or the resolute blue of his eyes.
The last time she’d found herself in Jarl Brum’s company he’d been strutting for Matthias and his drüskelle brethren in the hold of a ship. Matthias. Had he seen Brum, his old mentor, alive and talking to Nina? Was he watching them right now? She resisted the urge to scour the crowd for some sign of him and Kaz.
Still, the ship’s hold had been dark, and she’d been one of a group of prisoners – filthy and frightened. Now she was clean, perfumed. Her hair was a different colour; her skin was powdered. She was suddenly grateful for her absurd costume. Brum was a man, after all. Hopefully, Inej was right, and he would just see a redheaded Kaelish with a very low neckline.
She curtseyed deeply and looked up at him through her lashes. “A pleasure.”
His gaze roved over her figure. “It just might be. You’re from the House of Exotics, are you not? Kep ye nom?”
“Nomme Fianna,” she replied in Kaelish. Was he testing her? “But you can call me anything you like.”
“I thought Kaelish girls with the Menagerie wore the red mare cloak.”
She plumped her lips into a sulk. “Our Zemeni stepped on it and tore the hem. I think she did it on purpose.”
“Cursed girl. Shall we find her and punish her?” Nina forced a giggle. “How would you set about it?”
“They say the punishment should fit the crime, but I feel it should suit the criminal. Were you my prisoner, I’d make it my business to learn your likes and dislikes – and your fears, of course.”
“I am fearless,” she said with a wink.
“Truly? How intriguing. Fjerdans value courage greatly. How are you finding our country?”
“It’s a magical place,” Nina gushed. If you like ice and more ice. She steeled herself. If he knew who she was, then she might as well find out now. And if he didn’t, well, then she still needed to locate Bo Yul-Bayur – and what a pleasure it would be to trick the legendary Jarl Brum out of the information. She drew closer. “Do you know where I’d truly like to visit?”
He matched her conspiratorial tone. “I’d love to know all your secrets.”
“Ravka.”
The drüskelle’s lip curled. “Ravka? A land of blasphemers and barbarism.”
“True, but to see a Grisha? Can you imagine the thrill?” “I assure you. It’s hardly a thrill.”
“You only say that because you wear the sign of the wolf. This means you are a … drüskelle, yes?” she asked, pretending to struggle with the Fjerdan word.
“I am their commander.”
Nina widened her eyes. “Then you must have bested many Grisha in battle.”
“There is little honour in a fight with such a creature. I’d rather face a thousand honest men with swords than one of those deceitful witches with unnatural powers.”
And when you arrive with your repeating rifles and your tanks, when you set upon children and helpless villages, should we not use the weapons we possess? Nina bit down hard on her inner cheek.
“There are Grisha in Kerch, are there not?” Brum asked.
“So I’ve heard, but I’ve never seen one at the Menagerie or in the Barrel. At least not that I know of.” Could she risk a mention of jurda parem? How would the girl she was pretending to be have such knowledge? She leaned into him, curling her lips into a wicked, slightly guilty smile, and hoping she looked eager for excitement rather than information. “I know they’re dreadful, but … they do make me shiver. I’ve heard their powers have no limits.”
“Well …” the drüskelle hemmed.
Nina could see he was debating something with himself. Best to stage a strategic retreat. She shrugged. “But perhaps that’s not your area of expertise.” She glanced over his shoulder and caught the eye of a young nobleman in pale grey silk.
“Would you like to see a Grisha tonight?”
Her gaze snapped back to Brum. All I need is a mirror. Did Brum have Grisha prisoners stashed somewhere? What she wanted was to hear all about Bo Yul-Bayur and jurda parem, but this might be a start. And if she could get Brum alone …
She swatted his chest. “You’re teasing.”
“Would your mistress notice if you slipped away?” “That’s why we’re here, no? To slip away?”
He offered his arm. “Then shall we?”
She smiled and looped her hand over his forearm. He patted it gently. “Good girl.”
She wanted to gag. Maybe I’ll make you impotent, Nina thought grimly, as he led her out of the ballroom and through a terraced forest of ice sculptures – a wolf with a screaming double eagle in its jaws, a serpent wrapped around a bear.
“How … primal,” she murmured.
Brum chuckled and patted her hand again. “We are a culture of warriors.”
Would it be so dreadful to just kill him now? She considered as they strolled. Make it look like a heart attack? Leave him here in the cold? But she could endure Jarl Brum leering down the front of her dress for a little while longer if it meant keeping jurda parem from the world.
Besides, if Bo Yul-Bayur was on this Saintsforsaken island, Brum was the one to get her to him. The guards at the ballroom doors had let them past with little more than a raised brow and a smirk.
Directly ahead of them, Nina saw a vast, silvery tree at the centre of a circular courtyard, its boughs spreading over the stones in a sparkling canopy. The sacred ash, Nina realised. Then they must be in the middle of the island. The courtyard was surrounded on both sides by arched colonnades. If Matthias’ and Wylan’s drawings had been correct, the building directly beyond it was the treasury.
Instead of leading her across the courtyard, Brum turned left onto a path that hugged the side of the colonnade. As he did, Nina glimpsed a group of people in hooded black coats moving towards the tree.
“Who are they?” asked Nina, though she suspected she knew.
“Drüskelle.”
“Shouldn’t you be with them?”
“This is a ceremony for the young brothers to be welcomed by the old, not for captains and officers.”
“Did you go through it?”
“Every drüskelle in history has been inducted into the order through the same ceremony since Djel anointed the first of us.”
Nina forced herself not to roll her eyes. Sure, a giant, gushing spring chose some guy to hunt innocent people down and murder them. That seems likely.
“That’s what Hringkälla celebrates,” continued Brum. “And every year if there are worthy initiates, the drüskelle gather at the sacred ash, where they may once more hear the voice of god.”
Djel says you’re a fanatic, drunk on your own power. Come back next year.
“People forget this is a holy night,” Brum muttered. “They come to the palace to drink and dance and fornicate.”
Nina had to bite her tongue. Given Brum’s interest in the dip of her neckline, she doubted his thoughts were particularly holy.
“Are those things so very bad?” she asked teasingly. Brum smiled and squeezed her arm. “Not in moderation.” “Moderation isn’t one of my specialities.”
“I can see that,” he said. “I like the look of a woman who enjoys herself.”
I’d enjoy choking you slowly, she thought as she ran her fingers over his arm. Looking at Brum, she knew she didn’t just blame him for the things he’d done to her people; it was what he’d done to Matthias as well. He’d taken a brave, miserable boy and fed him on hate. He’d silenced Matthias’ conscience with prejudice and the promise of a divine calling that was probably nothing more than the wind moving through the branches of an ancient tree.
They reached the far side of the colonnade. With a start, she realised Brum had deliberately led her around the courtyard. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to bring a whore through a sacred space. Hypocrite.
“Where are we going?” she asked. “The treasury.”
“Are you going to woo me with jewels?”
“I didn’t think girls like you needed wooing. Isn’t that the point?” Nina laughed. “Well, every girl likes a little attention.”
“Then that’s what you shall have. And the thrill you were seeking, too.”
Was it possible Yul-Bayur was in the treasury? Kaz had said he’d be in the most secure place in the Ice Court. That might mean the palace, but it might just as easily mean the treasury. Why not here? It was another circular structure wrought in glowing white stone, but the treasury had no windows, no whimsical decoration or dragon’s scales. It looked like a tomb. Instead of ordinary guards, two drüskelle stood watch by the heavy door.
Suddenly, the full weight of what she was doing hit her. She was alone with one of the deadliest men in Fjerda, a man who would gladly torture and murder her if he knew what she truly was. The plan had been to find someone to give her information on Bo Yul-Bayur’s location, not to get cosy with the highest-ranking drüskelle on the White Island. Her eyes scanned the surrounding trees and paths, the hedge maze pushed up against the treasury’s east side, hoping to see some shadow move, to know that someone was there with her and that she wasn’t completely on her own. Kaz had sworn he could get her off this island, but Kaz’s first plan had gone to pieces – maybe this one would, too.
The soldiers didn’t blink as Nina and Brum passed, merely offered a tight salute. Brum pulled a chain from his neck; a strange circular disk hung from it. He slid the disk into a nearly invisible indentation in the
door and gave it a turn. Nina eyed the lock warily. This might be beyond even Kaz Brekker’s skill.
The barrel-vaulted entry was cold and bare, lit by the same harsh light as the Grisha cells in the prison wing. No gaslight, no candles. Nothing for Squallers or Inferni to manipulate.
She squinted. “Where are we?”
“The old treasury. The vault was moved years ago. This was converted into a laboratory.”
Laboratory. The word formed a cold knot beneath Nina’s ribs. “Why?”
“Such an inquisitive little thing.”
I’m nearly as tall as you, she thought.
“The treasury was already secure and well-positioned on the White Island, so it was a logical choice for such a facility.”
The words were innocuous, but that knot of fear tightened, a cold fist now, pressing against her chest. She matched Brum’s steps down the vaulted hall, past smooth white doors, each with a small glass window set into it.
“Here we are,” Brum said, stopping in front of a door that seemed identical to the others.
Nina peered through the glass. The cell was just like the ones on the top level of the prison, but the observation panel was on the other side –a large mirror that took up half of the opposite wall. Inside, she saw a young boy in a bedraggled blue kefta pacing restlessly, gabbling to himself, scratching at his arms. His eyes were hollows, his hair lank. He looked just like Nestor before he’d died. Grisha don’t get sick, she thought. But this was a different kind of sickness.
“He doesn’t look very menacing.”
Brum moved up behind her. His breath brushed against her ear when he said, “Oh, believe me, he is.”
Nina’s skin crawled, but she made herself lean into him slightly. “What is he here for?”
“The future.”
Nina turned and laid her hands on his chest. “Are there more?”
He blew out an impatient breath and led her to the next door. A girl lay on her side, her tangled hair covering her face. She was dressed in a
dirty shift, and she had bruises all over her arms. Brum gave a sharp rap on the little window, startling Nina.
“Look alive,” Brum taunted, but the girl didn’t move. Brum’s finger hovered over a brass button embedded next to the window. “If you really want a show, I could press this button.”
“What does it do?”
“Beautiful things. Miraculous, really.”
Nina thought she knew; the button would dose the girl with jurda parem somehow. For Nina’s entertainment. She tugged Brum away. “It’s all right.”
“I thought you wanted to see a Grisha use her powers.”
“Oh, I do, but she doesn’t look like much fun. Are there more?” “Close to thirty.”
Nina flinched. The Second Army had been nearly obliterated in Ravka’s civil war. She couldn’t bear to think that there were thirty Grisha here. “And are they all in that state?”
He shrugged and steered her down a corridor. “Some are better. Some are worse. If I find you a lively one, what will be my reward?”
“It would be easier to show you,” she purred.
Nina had had enough of seeing starving, frightened Grisha. She needed Yul-Bayur. Brum must know where he was. The treasury was nearly deserted. They hadn’t seen a single guard inside. If she could get Brum into an empty corridor far enough from the entrance that the guards couldn’t hear them … Could she torture a hardened drüskelle? Could she make him talk? She thought she just might be able to. She’d seal his nose, put pressure on his larynx. A few minutes gasping for breath might soften him up.
“Maybe we could find a quiet corner?” Nina suggested.
Brum preened, his chest puffing out. “This way, dirre,” he said using the Kaelish word for sweetheart.
He led her down a deserted hall, unlocking the door with his circular key.
“This should do,” he said with a bow. “A bit of privacy and a bit of charm.”
Nina winked and sashayed past him. She’d expected some kind of office or retiring room for the guards. But there was no desk, no cot. The room was completely bare – except for the drain at the centre of the floor.
She whirled in time to see the cell door slam shut.
“No!” she shouted, hands scrabbling over the surface of the door. It had no handle.
Brum’s face appeared in the window. His expression was smug, his eyes cold. “I may have exaggerated the charm, but there is plenty of privacy, Nina.”
She recoiled.
“That is your name, isn’t it?” he said. “Did you really think I wouldn’t recognise you? I remember your stubborn little face from the slaving ship, and we have files on every one of Ravka’s active Grisha. I make it my business to know them all – even the ones I hope have been swallowed by the sea.”
Nina lifted her hands.
“Go ahead,” he said. “Burst my eyes in their sockets. Crush my heart in my chest. That door won’t unlock, and in the time it takes you to tamper with my pulse, I’ll press this button.” She couldn’t see the brass button, but she could imagine his finger hovering over it. “Do you know what it does? You’ve seen the effects of jurda parem. Would you like to feel them, too? It is effective as a powder, but even more so as a gas.”
Nina froze.
“Smart girl.” His grin lifted the hair on her arms. I will not beg, she told herself. But she knew she would. Once the drug was in her system, she wouldn’t be able to stop it. She took a breath of clean air. A futile gesture, even childish, but she was determined to hold it as long as she could.
Then Brum paused. “No. This vengeance is not mine to take. There is someone else who owes you so much more.” He vanished from the window and a moment later, Matthias’ face filled the glass. He looked back at her, his eyes hard.
“How?” Nina whispered, not even sure if they could hear her through the door.
“Did you really believe I’d turn against my nation?” Matthias’ voice was thick with disgust. “That I’d give up the cause I devoted my life to? I came to warn Brum as soon as I could.”
“But you said—”
“Country before self, Zenik. It’s something you’ve never understood.” Nina pressed a hand to her mouth.
“I may never be drüskelle again,” he said. “I may live always with the charge of ‘slaver’ around my neck, but I’ll find another way to serve Fjerda. And I’ll get to see you dosed with jurda parem. I’ll get to see you mow down your own kind and beg for the next fix. I’ll get to see you betray the people you love as you asked me to betray my own.”
“Matthias—”
He slammed his fist against the window. “Do not speak my name.” Then he smiled, a smile as cold and unforgiving as the northern sea. “Welcome to the Ice Court, Nina Zenik. Now our debt is paid.”
From somewhere outside, the bells of Black Protocol began to ring.
