Aleksander watched as the Fjerdans circled the king and his troops. The bells had given them the chance to cut off Nikolai’s path of retreat. Aleksander supposed he could send the nichevo’ya to help. He could attempt to rescue Ravka’s king a second time.

Or he could let him die and seize control of Ravka’s forces, then lead the charge himself.

The boy had been brave; he’d smashed the bells and risked his life and his country’s loyalty for it. But that did not mean he was meant to win this day.

Apologies, Nikolai. A man can hardly hope for two miracles in one morning.

“What do we do?” repeated Chernov desperately.

Aleksander turned his back on the last Lantsov king. Let him die a martyr.

“All we can do,” he said, addressing his flock. “We pray.”

39

ZOYA

ZOYA KNEW SHE WAS BEING IMPRUDENT, indulging in the same recklessness she’d scolded Nina for again and again, but she wasn’t going to let one of her soldiers be used as a pawn. The Apparat had a game to play, and he would play it. Zoya intended to dictate the rules.

At the edge of the beach, she pulled down cloud cover slowly to avoid drawing attention, then wreathed herself in sea mist. She summoned the wind, letting it carry her low over the waves as she skated across the water. This was the power that the amplifiers at her wrists, Juris’ scales, had given her. It was not quite flight and it required every bit of her focus, but the Apparat would be anticipating a disguised flyer or raft. She had a better chance of getting Nina out if she caught the priest and his men off guard.

And if Nina is dead?

Zoya had lost as many allies as she’d sent enemies to the grave. Nina wasn’t even a friend. She was a subordinate, an upstart student with a gift for languages who could always be counted on to make trouble if she couldn’t find some to get into. But Zoya had been her commander and her teacher, and that meant she was under Zoya’s protection.

Juris’ laugh rumbled through her. Zoya of the garden, when will you cease your lies?

As she approached the monstrous Fjerdan base, a chill swept through her. It was even bigger than it had seemed from the beach. She circled it slowly, peering through the mist she’d summoned, trying to get her bearings. The eastern tower was obvious enough, but it had to be twenty stories tall. Where was the Apparat keeping Nina? He’d said the cells and … there, nearly at the top of the structure, an expanse of smooth wall, its surface unbroken by windows. Those must be the holding cells.