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Back Rule of Wolves Save as PDF
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

It was narrow, with space for little more than a writing desk and a small sofa. The Wellmother took a seat at the desk and lit an oil lamp.

“The water hears and understands,” she murmured.

“The ice does not forgive,” Nina said in traditional reply.

“Close the door.”

Nina did as she was bid and smiled warmly, showing she was eager to please.

The Wellmother turned, her eyes the cold color of slate. “Hello, Nina.”

5

ZOYA

IN A HIGH TOWER of Os Kervo’s city hall, Zoya paced the flagstone floor. Hiram Schenck was late, and she had no doubt the insult was deliberate. Once the Kerch government had acquired the secrets of the izmars’ya, Nikolai’s deadly ships that could travel undetected beneath the surface of the sea, Ravka had lost all their leverage with the little island nation and the Merchant Council who ruled it. Schenck just wanted to make sure she knew it.

She needed to stay calm, be a diplomat, not a soldier. It was that or tear Schenck’s tufty ginger head from his body.

Through the window, she glimpsed waves crashing against the base of the city’s famous lighthouse. It was said Sankt Vladimir the Foolish had held the ocean at bay while the stones were laid for the sea wall and the great lighthouse. Zoya had a suspicion he’d been nothing more than a powerful Tidemaker. Not that powerful, she considered. He’d drowned in the bay for his troubles.

She shouldn’t be here. She should be at the front, on the ground with her Squallers. With her king.

“We can’t risk Fjerda finding out what we’re up to,” Nikolai had said. “You need to meet with Schenck.”

“And if the Fjerdans attack from the sea?”

“They won’t break Sturmhond’s blockade.”

He’d sounded certain, but Nikolai had a talent for sounding sure of himself. Sturmhond, the legendary privateer—and the Ravkan king’s alter ego—had sent a fleet of ships to guard Ravka’s coastline. In theory, the king and the Triumvirate were meant to leave that job to the Ravkan navy. But the navy was too closely tied to West Ravka and their interests for Nikolai’s comfort. They couldn’t be trusted, not when the stakes were so high.

At least Nina’s message had arrived in time for them to prepare. At least Nina was still alive.

“Order her home,” Zoya had urged, determined to keep the pleading from her voice.

But the king had refused. “We need her there.”

It was true, and she hated it.

Let the Fjerdans come by sea, Zoya thought, let Jarl Brum and the rest of his bloody witchhunters come to us on the waves. My Squallers and I will give them a warm welcome.