فصل 39

39

NINA

Nina pulled off her gown and the heavy rubber belly she had strapped over her tunic while Rotty rid himself of his beard and coat. They tied everything in a bundle and Nina tossed it overboard as they climbed into the bottleboat moored beneath Zentsbridge.

“Good riddance,” she said as it sank into the water.

“So little maternal sentiment,” Kaz said, emerging from behind the wine crates.

“Where’s Inej?”

“I’m fine,” said Inej from behind him. “But Kuwei—”

“You’re bleeding again,” Nina observed as she slid behind the high stacks of crates to join them. There was little traffic on the canal now, but it didn’t do to take chances. “And what happened to your eyes?”

“I’d tell you to ask the White Blade, but…” Inej shrugged.

“I hope she suffered.”

“Nina.”

“What? We can’t both be merciful and serene.”

They were in a pocket of shadowy space between the crates of wine and the stone arch of the bridge. The stretcher with Kuwei’s body on it lay atop a makeshift table of crates. Genya was injecting something into the Shu boy’s arm as Zoya and the man Nina assumed was Sturmhond looked on.

“How is he?” Nina asked.

“If he has a pulse, I can’t find it,” said Genya. “The poison did its work.”

Maybe too well. Genya had said the poison would lower his pulse and breathing to such an extent that it would mimic death. But the act was uncomfortably convincing. Some part of Nina knew the world might be safer if Kuwei died, but she also knew that if someone else unlocked the secret of parem, he was Ravka’s best chance at an antidote. They’d fought to free him from the Ice Court. They’d schemed and connived and struggled so that he could be safe to pursue his work among the Grisha. Kuwei was hope.

And he was a boy who deserved a chance to live without a target on his back.

“The antidote?” Nina asked, looking at the syringe in Genya’s hand.

“This is the second dose she’s injected,” said Kaz.

They all watched as Genya checked his pulse, his breathing. She shook her head.

“Zoya,” said Sturmhond. His voice had the ring of command.

Zoya sighed and pushed up her sleeves. “Unbutton his shirt.”

“What are you doing?” Kaz asked as Genya undid Kuwei’s remaining buttons. His chest was narrow, his ribs visible, all of it spattered with the pig’s blood they’d encased in the wax bladder.

“I’m either going to wake up his heart or cook him from the inside out,” said Zoya. “Stand back.”

They did their best to obey in the cramped space. “What exactly does she mean by that?” Kaz asked Nina.

“I’m not sure,” Nina admitted. Zoya had her hands out and her eyes closed. The air felt suddenly cool and moist.

Inej inhaled deeply. “It smells like a storm.”

Zoya opened her eyes and brought her hands together as if in prayer, rubbing her palms against each other briskly.

Nina felt the pressure drop, tasted metal on her tongue. “I think … I think she’s summoning lightning.”

“Is that safe?” asked Inej.

“Not remotely,” said Sturmhond.

“Has she at least done it before?” said Kaz.

“For this purpose?” asked Sturmhond. “I’ve seen her do it twice. It worked splendidly. Once.” His voice was oddly familiar, and Nina had the sense they’d met before.

“Ready?” Zoya asked.

Genya shoved a thickly folded piece of fabric between Kuwei’s teeth and stepped back. With a shudder, Nina realized it was to keep him from biting his tongue.

“I really hope she gets this right,” murmured Nina.

“Not as much as Kuwei does,” said Kaz.

“It’s tricky,” said Sturmhond. “Lightning doesn’t like a master. Zoya’s putting her own life at risk too.”

“She didn’t strike me as the type,” Kaz said.

“You’d be surprised,” Nina and Sturmhond replied in unison. Again, Nina had the eerie sensation that she knew him.

She saw that Rotty had squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch. Inej’s lips were moving in what Nina knew must be a prayer.

A faint blue glow crackled between Zoya’s palms. She took a deep breath and slapped them down on Kuwei’s chest.

Kuwei’s back bowed, his whole body arcing so sharply Nina thought his spine might snap. Then he slammed back down against the stretcher. His eyes didn’t open. His chest remained motionless.

Genya checked his pulse. “Nothing.”

Zoya scowled and clapped her palms together again, a light sweat breaking out over her perfect brow. “Are we absolutely sure we want him to live?” she huffed. No one answered, but she kept rubbing her hands together, that crackle building once more.

“What is this even supposed to do?” said Inej.

“Shock his heart into returning to its rhythm,” said Genya. “And the heat should help denature the poison.”

“Or kill him,” said Kaz.

“Or kill him,” conceded Genya.

“Now,” said Zoya, her voice determined. Nina wondered if she was anxious for Kuwei to survive or if she just hated to fail at anything.

Zoya jolted her open palms against Kuwei’s chest. His body bent like a green branch caught by an unforgiving wind, and once more collapsed against the stretcher.

Kuwei gasped, eyes flying open. He struggled to sit up, trying to spit out the wad of fabric.

“Thank the Saints,” said Nina.

“Thank me,” said Zoya.

Genya moved to restrain him, and his eyes widened further as panic seized him.

“Shhh,” Nina murmured, moving forward. Kuwei knew Genya and Zoya only as members of the Ravkan delegation. They might as well be strangers. “It’s all right. You’re alive. You’re safe.”

Inej joined her at his side, removed the fabric from his mouth, smoothed back his hair. “You’re safe,” she repeated.

“The auction—”

“It’s over.”

“And the Shu?”

His golden eyes were terrified, and Nina understood just how frightened he had been.

“They saw you die,” Nina reassured him. “So did everyone. Representatives from every country saw you get shot in the heart. The medik and hospital staff will testify to your death.”

“The body—”

“By tonight, it will be collected by the bodymen,” said Kaz. “It’s over.”

Kuwei flopped back down, threw an arm over his eyes, and burst into tears. Nina patted him gently. “I know what you mean, kid.”

Zoya placed her hands on her hips. “Is anyone going to thank me—or Genya, for that matter—for this little miracle?”

“Thank you for nearly killing and then reviving the most valuable hostage in the world so you could use him for your own gain,” Kaz said. “Now you need to go. The streets are almost empty, and you need to get to the manufacturing district.”

Zoya’s beautiful blue eyes slitted. “Show your face in Ravka, Brekker. We’ll teach you some manners.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. When they burn me on the Reaper’s Barge, I definitely want to be remembered as polite.”

“Come with us now, Nina,” urged Genya.

Nina shook her head. “The job isn’t over, and Kuwei is too weak to make the walk anyway.”

Zoya pursed her lips. “Just don’t forget where your loyalties lie.” She climbed out of the bottleboat, followed by Genya and Sturmhond.

The privateer turned back to the bottleboat and gazed down at Nina. His eyes were an odd color, and his features didn’t quite seem to fit together properly. “In case you’re tempted not to return, I want you to know you and your Fjerdan are welcome in Ravka. We can’t estimate how much parem the Shu may still have or how many of those Kherguud soldiers they’ve made. The Second Army needs your gifts.”

Nina hesitated. “I’m not … I’m not what I was.”

“You’re a soldier,” said Zoya. “You’re Grisha. And we’d be lucky to have you.”

Nina’s jaw dropped. That almost sounded like praise.

“Ravka is grateful for your service,” Sturmhond said as they turned to go. “And so is the crown.” He waved once. In the late afternoon light, with the sun behind him, he looked less like a privateer and more like … But that was just silly.

“I need to get back to the church,” said Kaz. “I don’t know what the Council is going to do with Wylan.”

“Go,” said Nina. “We’ll wait here for Matthias.”

“Stay alert,” Kaz said. “Keep him out of sight until nightfall. Then you know where to go.”

Kaz climbed from the boat and vanished back in the direction of the Church of Barter.

Nina didn’t think it would be safe to offer Kuwei wine, so she offered him some water and encouraged him to rest.

“I’m afraid to close my eyes,” he said.

Nina strained to see over the lip of the canal and down the street. “What’s taking Matthias so long? Do you think that medik gave him trouble?” But then she saw him striding toward her across the empty square. He raised his hand in greeting.

She leapt from the boat and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms.

“Drüsje,” he said against her hair. “You’re all right.”

“Of course I’m all right. You’re the one who’s late.”

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to find you in the storm.”

Nina pulled back. “Did you stop to get drunk on the way here?”

He cupped her cheek with his hand. “No,” he said, and then he kissed her.

“Matthias!”

“Did I do it wrong?”

“No, you did it splendidly. But I’m the one who always kisses you first.”

“We should change that,” he said, and then he slumped against her.

“Matthias?”

“It’s nothing. I needed to see you again.”

“Matthias—oh, Saints.” The coat he’d been holding fell away and she saw the bullet wound in his stomach. His shirt was soaked with blood. “Help!” she screamed. “Somebody help!” But the streets were empty. The doors barred. The windows shut up. “Inej!” she cried.

He was too heavy. They sank to the cobblestones and Nina cradled his head gently in her lap. Inej was sprinting toward them.

“What happened?” she asked.

“He’s been shot. Oh, Saints, Matthias, who did this?” They had so many enemies.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. His breath sounded strange and thready. “All I wanted was to see you once more. Tell you—”

“Get Kuwei,” Nina said to Inej. “Or Kaz. He has parem. You have to get it for me. I can save him. I can fix him.” But was that even true? If she used the drug, would her power return to what it had been? She could try. She had to try.

Matthias grabbed her hand with surprising strength. It was wet with his own blood. “No, Nina.”

“I can fight it a second time. I can heal you and then I can fight it.”

“It’s not worth the risk.”

“It’s worth every risk,” she said. “Matthias—”

“I need you to save the others.”

“What others?” she asked desperately.

“The other drüskelle. Swear to me you’ll at least try to help them, to make them see.”

“We’ll go together, Matthias. We’ll be spies. Genya will tailor us and we’ll go to Fjerda together. I’ll wear all the ugly knitted vests you want.”

“Go home to Ravka, Nina. Be free, as you were meant to be. Be a warrior, as you always have been. Just save some mercy for my people. There has to be a Fjerda worth saving. Promise me.”

“I promise.” The words were more sob than sound.

“I have been made to protect you. Even in death, I will find a way.” He clasped her hand tighter. “Bury me so I can go to Djel. Bury me so I can take root and follow the water north.”

“I promise, Matthias. I’ll take you home.”

“Nina,” he said, pressing her hand to his heart. “I am already home.”

The light vanished from his eyes. His chest stilled beneath her hands.

Nina screamed, a howl that tore from the black space where her heart had beat only moments before. She searched for his pulse, for the light and force that had been Matthias. If I had my power. If I’d never taken parem. If I had parem. She felt the river around her, the black waters of grief. She reached into the cold.

Matthias’ chest rose, his body shook.

“Come back to me,” she whispered. “Come back.”

She could do this. She could give him a new life, a life born of that deep water. He was no ordinary man. He was Matthias, her brave Fjerdan.

“Come back,” she demanded. He breathed. His eyelids fluttered and opened. His eyes shone black.

“Matthias,” she whispered. “Speak my name.”

“Nina.”

His voice, his beautiful voice. It was the same. She clutched his hand, searching for him in that black gaze. But his eyes had been the ice of the north, palest blue, pure. This was all wrong.

Inej was kneeling beside her. “Let him go, Nina.”

“I can’t.”

Inej placed her arm around Nina’s shoulder. “Let him go to his god.”

“He should be here with me.”

Nina touched his cold cheek. There must be a way to take this back, to make this right. How many impossible things had they accomplished together?

“You will meet him again in the next life,” said Inej. “But only if you suffer this now.”

They were twin souls, soldiers destined to fight for different sides, to find each other and lose each other too quickly. She would not keep him here. Not like this.

“In the next life then,” she whispered. “Go.” She watched his eyes close once more. “Farvell,” she said in Fjerdan. “May Djel watch over you until I can once more.”