It had taken months, but Mayu had pieced together rumor and fact and finally discovered that her brother—her twin who had been happy to avoid notice in his regiment until she’d goaded him—had displayed such gifts as a soldier that he’d been drafted into the Iron Heart program. The khergud were half myth among the Tavgharad. No one could confirm that they really existed, and yet the stories of their abilities were legendary—as were the horrific tales of what they endured in the conversion and what they lost when it was complete. She had set out to find him, to free him, when she’d been called before Queen Makhi.

Mayu thought her investigation had been discovered, that she would be banished or put to death.

Instead the queen had said, “You’re from Nehlu, one of the larger towns. Is that why you have no country accent?”

“My mother was a teacher, Your Majesty,” Mayu had said. “She wanted us to have every advantage as we tried to make our way in the world.”

“There is little call for elocution in the Tavgharad. Your fists speak for you. Did she teach you a passable curtsy?”

She had not, but Mayu could learn. That was her gift. She could always learn. The queen had offered her an opportunity to save her brother.

Or so Mayu had believed at the time.

Now, sitting in the cargo hold, she heard the Ravkan king’s voice in her head: You are Reyem Yul-Kaat’s sister, and he still lives. If there was any chance her brother might still be saved, she had to take it.

“Where are we?” she asked as the airship began to descend a second time. “This isn’t the palace.”

“The temple fields outside Ahmrat Jen,” said Tamar. She turned to Ehri and the remaining Grisha guards. “This place is too conspicuous by half. Stay alert.”

She wasn’t wrong. The darkness provided cover, but Mayu’s instincts told her they were badly exposed. Maybe instead of finding her brother, she’d only succeed in getting herself killed.

“Here,” Tamar said, handing Mayu a sword belt and a curved blade.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, and fastened it around her waist. The talon sword was the traditional weapon of the Tavgharad, often worn with a pistol, but they weren’t easy to come by, and none of the Tavgharad had been permitted to bring them to Ravka.

“My father,” said Tamar. “It was a gift from one of his students long ago. I’ll be expecting it back. Let’s go.”

“Why this place?” Mayu asked as they walked down the long gangway to the fields where Mayu had once trained to become Tavgharad. Though she couldn’t see them, Mayu knew some of Tamar’s Grisha were stationed around the temple.