Then she spotted a strange word: Rëvfeder. Foxfather.

Nina’s eyes scanned the page, but she wasn’t reading a transfer order. It was the report of an escape. Magnus Opjer had somehow gotten out of his cell, out of the drüskelle sector, and out of the Ice Court—and taken Queen Tatiana’s letters with him. Well, thank you for bearing the blame for that, Magnus. The next line on the report made Nina’s stomach lurch: A piece of what looked like sharpened bone had been found in the lock of Magnus Opjer’s cell door.

Nina remembered Opjer’s hands gripping her sleeves as he’d begged her to free him. She’d thought it was desperation, but maybe it had just been a performance. Could Magnus Opjer, the most valued and recognizable prisoner in Fjerda, really have escaped the Ice Court?

Wily old bastard. Foxfather indeed. He’d pilfered one of her bone darts and used it to pick the lock of his cage. If she’d needed any further proof that Opjer was King Nikolai’s father, this was it.

So where was he now? Nina didn’t know, and she had no way of finding out. She would call on her contacts in the Hringsa, relay the information to Ravka. For now, she was stuck. There was speculation in the report that he might head back to his home north of Djerholm to reunite with his daughter or even to Elling, where some of his shipping vessels were docked. He is a man without means, said the report. He cannot book passage on a ship. He cannot hope to cross the border into Ravka. It is only a matter of time before the target is reacquired.

Nina wondered. Magnus Opjer wasn’t a noble. He was a self-made man, a shipping magnate with a lifetime’s worth of connections and an established network of sailing craft. And he was Nikolai Lantsov’s father. He might be lacking cash, but if he’d managed to get clear of the Ice Court, he definitely wasn’t short on ingenuity.

A sound from the courtyard below drew Nina from her thoughts. The gate was opening. Could the drüskelle have returned so soon?

She slipped the escape report back among the papers on the desk and hurried out of the office, making sure the lock slid into place. Brum would find his office just as he’d left it.

Nina started down the stairs but heard the sound of voices below. Damn it.

She raced back the way she’d come, dodging down the hall on silent feet, gently trying each door, praying one would be unlocked.

At last a handle turned. She slid inside and shut the door behind her with a click that seemed to echo in her ears.

“What are you doing here?”