BooksBarbecue
Back Rule of Wolves
Chapters (60)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. THE GRISHA
  5. THE DEMON KING
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. THE MAKING AT THE HEART OF THE WORLD
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  57. Also by Leigh Bardugo
  58. Praise for the Grishaverse
  59. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  60. Newsletter Sign-up

But two Fjerdan soldiers stepped into the captain’s path, seizing his arms and snatching away his pistol. The drüskelle captain shouted, face red, spittle flying from his mouth. Blasphemy, heresy, treason, abomination. All words that had been used against Grisha before. If the Fjerdans had been winning this battle, maybe those charges would have held sway. But these men didn’t want to die. One by one, the drüskelle went to their knees. Zoya had bought their fealty with mercy.

Again, Nikolai looked to the Darkling. The Starless had surrounded him, praying. The field was full of kneeling soldiers, weeping troops, perplexed Grisha. From the north came the sound of a trumpet—the Fjerdans sounding retreat. The Darkling grinned at Nikolai as if he’d been the architect of it all.

Above them, the dragon flapped her vast wings and he saw someone on her back, though he couldn’t tell who. The great beast roared and the clouds around her pulsed with light. Thunder boomed, rolling over the mountains, and lightning forked through the sky, so bright he had to avert his gaze.

When he looked back, Zoya was gone.

43

ZOYA

ZOYA COULDN’T THINK OVER the sound of Juris’ laughter in her head.

Sankta Zoya.

She was no Saint. It was podge-headed nonsense. But had she helped buy peace for Ravka? Had she done right by leaving the Fjerdans alive? She swooped down to the coast, searching for a place to land that would be out of sight of prying eyes. She needed a moment in the cool dark to pull her thoughts back together, to understand herself again. Her mind felt different, not just her body. She couldn’t grasp the shape of who she was. It was all too much—the soldiers’ panic on the field, the Darkling’s bemusement, the drüskelle commander’s wild rage, Nina’s anguish. Nikolai. She could still feel his fear for her. There has to be more to life, even for soldiers like us. In those brief seconds she had believed. We might shelter in each other. She was tied to all of them.

Juris’ knowledge echoed through her—a cave just north of Os Kervo, hewn into the cliff wall. He had flown this coastline many times before. The cave was snug, but it would do.

I should have killed the Fjerdans. I should have given them a wound from which they’d never recover. But that was an old voice, the voice of a hurt child who had no one to trust, who feared there would always be someone more powerful and more cruel than her. She would forever be a bloodthirsty, furious girl, but she might allow herself to be something else too. If she had helped to earn peace for Ravka, then maybe she could grant her own heart a bit of peace as well.