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February 10 - February 22, 2025
aboard. As they floated by, the girl could have sworn she heard the clink of chains. The Verrhader found its berth. The gangway was lowered. The dockworkers and crew shouted their greetings, tied
return my smile, but gently patted my hand. Jes was definitely an odd one. We chatted a short while longer, but I knew Mal could see I was getting anxious. I didn’t like to be out in the open for too long. We said
or unwanted interruptions. My pulse gave a little jump—whether from nerves or excitement, I wasn’t sure. “So what did Jes say?” I asked again, when my brain felt a bit less scrambled. “He said I should take good care of you.”
my arms behind my back. I was dragged inside the room, kicking and thrashing. “Easy now,” said a cool
each sketched a quick bow to me before they departed. “Are they related?” I asked, watching them
We were alone on an icy sea, prisoners of a man who could literally make monsters, and yet somehow I believed. I leaned into him, and for the first time in days, I let myself hope.
“I want the choice,” I said. “You’ll have it,” he replied. “On my word as a liar and cutthroat.”
Maybe it was the same greed that had driven the Darkling so many years ago, the greed that had turned him into the Black Heretic and torn Ravka in two. But I couldn’t escape the truth that without the amplifiers, I was no match for him. Mal and I were low on options.
Sturmhond sighed and ran a hand over his face—a stranger’s face. His chin had lost its pronounced point. His nose was still slightly crooked, but nothing like the busted lump it had been. His hair was no longer ruddy brown but dark gold, neatly cut to military length, and those strange, muddy green eyes were now a clear, bright hazel. He looked completely different, but he was unmistakably Sturmhond. And he’s handsome, I thought with a baffling jab of resentment.
I’d hunted a magical stag. I wore the scales of a slain ice dragon around my wrist. I’d seen an entire city swallowed by darkness. But this was the strangest thing I’d ever witnessed. It had to be another one of Sturmhond’s deceptions, one that was sure to get us all killed.
I scoured my memory for the little bit I knew about the Ravkan king’s two sons. I’d met the eldest briefly at the Little Palace, but the younger son hadn’t been seen at court in years. He was supposed to be off somewhere apprenticing with a gunsmith or studying shipbuilding. Or maybe he had done both.
“It was worth it,” I replied. “Besides, no one’s going to shoot the Sun Summoner.” “You just punched a prince, Alina. I guess we can add one more act of treason to our list.”
“Trust me.” “Every time you say ‘trust me,’ I trust you a little less,” I hissed.