What would Matthias think of all this? Nina wondered. A Grisha king. A Grisha queen. She hoped he would be glad to see her happy, that he would want her heart to heal. Save some mercy for my people. Sitting there, in the quiet, watching the clouds slide by, no sound to break the silence but the steady hum of the engines, Nina felt a strange sensation creep through her, an ease that she had all but forgotten. Peace.

There were battles ahead, dangers she and Hanne would have to face. What they were attempting was audacious, maybe impossible, but somehow she knew they would manage it. Nina rested her cheek against Hanne’s. She’d honored Matthias, and this path, somewhere between revenge and redemption, was the right one. My place is with the wolves.

Nina sat up straight. “Hanne, what do I call you now? Rasmus?”

Hanne shuddered. “I can’t stand that. We’ll have to choose a new name. A Saint’s name. To honor the prince’s newfound faith in the Children of Djel.”

“All Saints, you’re a quick learner. That’s a politician’s move.”

“But we have to pick a good one.”

“How about Demyan? Or Ilya? He was famous. And he changed the world.”

Her prince smiled. “I don’t know the story.”

“I’ll tell it to you,” Nina said. Outside, night was falling and the sky was full of stars. “I’ll tell you a thousand stories, my love. We’ll write the new endings, one by one.”

48

NIKOLAI

THEY TRAVELED WITH SUN SOLDIERS, not only for protection, but because some of the mountain passes were still blocked by snow.

“It would have been faster by dragon,” Zoya complained as they traversed yet another switchback.

“And considerably more conspicuous,” Nikolai replied.

“Just keep moving,” Genya said. “I don’t want to spend another night in these mountains.”

Nikolai glanced behind him on the trail, where Zoya was helping Genya clamber over a rock. They’d all worn the roughspun clothes of travelers—warm coats and trousers, boots lined in fur. “Is it the bobcats, the weather, or the company that displeases you?”

“I am a queen,” Zoya said. “I should be borne aloft on a litter so that my delicate feet never touch the ground.”

“I could ask the demon to carry you.”

Zoya sniffed. “Thank you, no. The last time you let it out, it tried to bite me.”

“I think it was meant affectionately.”

“Are you certain?” asked Genya.

“Not entirely,” he admitted.

Flyers had brought them to the plains north of Sikursk. From there, they’d been forced to continue on foot. The winds that tore through these peaks made flight too risky. Ahead of them, bracketed by Sun Soldiers, the Darkling trudged on. His hands were bound and he still wore the black robes of the Starless. It was as if he didn’t feel the cold.