Siege and Storm (Shadow and Bone #2)(64)

I looked around the table at the faces of the Grisha, some familiar, some new. Any one of them could be a spy for the Darkling, the King, the Apparat. Any one of them could be looking for the chance to get me out of the way and assume power.

Tolya and Tamar stood outside, just a shout away in case of trouble, but it was Mal’s presence that gave me comfort. He sat at my right in his roughspun clothes, the sunburst pinned above his heart. I hated to think of him leaving so soon for the hunt, but I had to admit a distraction might be a good thing. Mal had taken pride in being a soldier and, though he tried to hide it, I knew the King’s ruling weighed heavily on him. That he’d guessed I was keeping something from him didn’t help either.

Sergei sat to Mal’s right, his arms crossed sullenly over his chest. He wasn’t happy to be sitting next to an otkazat’sya guard, and he was even less pleased that I’d insisted on seating a Fabrikator directly to my left, in what was considered a position of honor. She was a Suli girl named Paja whom I’d never met before. She had dark hair and nearly black eyes, and the red embroidery at the cuffs of her purple kefta indicated that she was one of the Alkemi, Fabrikators who specialized in chemicals like blasting powders and poisons.

David sat further down the table, his cuffs emblazoned in gray. He worked in glass, steel, wood, stone—anything solid. David was a Durast, and I knew he was the best of them because the Darkling had chosen him to forge my collar. Then there was Fedyor, and Zoya beside him, gorgeous as always in Etherealki blue.

Across from Zoya sat Pavel, the dark-skinned Inferni who’d spoken so angrily against me the previous day. He had narrow features and a chipped tooth that whistled slightly when he talked.

The first part of the meeting was spent discussing the numbers of Grisha at the various outposts around Ravka and those who might be in hiding. Zoya suggested sending messengers to spread the news of my return and offer full and free pardon to those who swore their allegiance to the Sun Summoner. We spent close to an hour debating the terms and wording of the pardon. I knew I would have to take it to Nikolai for the King’s approval, and I wanted to step carefully. Finally, we agreed on “loyalty to the Ravkan throne and the Second Army.” No one seemed happy with it, so I was pretty sure we’d gotten it right.

It was Fedyor who raised the issue of the Apparat. “It’s troubling that he’s evaded capture this long.”

“Has he tried to contact you?” Pavel asked me.

“No,” I said. I saw the skepticism in his face.

“He’s been spotted in Kerskii and Ryevost,” said Fedyor. “He shows up out of nowhere to preach, then disappears before the King’s soldiers can close in.”

“We should think about an assassination,” said Sergei. “He’s growing too powerful, and he could still be colluding with the Darkling.”

“We’d have to find him first,” observed Paja.

Zoya gave a graceful wave of her hand. “What would be the point? He seems bent on spreading word of the Sun Summoner and claiming she’s a Saint. It’s about time the people had some appreciation for the Grisha.”

“Not the Grisha,” said Pavel, jutting his chin truculently in my direction. “Her.”

Zoya lifted one elegant shoulder. “It’s better than them reviling us all as witches and traitors.”

“Let the King do the dirty work,” said Fedyor. “Let him find the Apparat and execute him and let him suffer the people’s wrath.”

I couldn’t believe we were calmly debating a man’s murder. And I wasn’t sure I wanted the Apparat dead. The priest had plenty to answer for, but I wasn’t convinced he was still working with the Darkling. Besides, he’d given me the Istorii Sankt’ya, and that meant he was a possible source of information. If he was captured, I could only hope the King would keep him alive long enough for questioning.

“Do you think he believes it?” asked Zoya, studying me. “That you’re a Saint risen and back from the dead?”

“I’m not sure it makes a difference.”

“It would help to know just how crazy he is.”

“I’d rather fight a traitor than a zealot,” Mal said quietly. It was the first time he’d spoken. “I may have some old contacts in the First Army who will still talk to me. There are rumors of soldiers defecting to join him, and if that’s the case, they must know where he is.”

I stole a glance at Zoya. She was gazing at Mal with those impossibly blue eyes. It seemed like she’d spent half the meeting batting her lashes at him. Or maybe I was imagining things. She was a powerful Squaller and, potentially, a powerful ally. But she’d also been one of the Darkling’s favorites, and that certainly made her difficult to trust.

I almost laughed out loud. Who was I kidding? I hated even sitting in the same room with her. She looked like a Saint. Delicate bones, glossy black hair, perfect skin. All she needed was a halo. Mal paid her no attention, but a twisting feeling in my gut made me think he was ignoring her a little too deliberately. I knew I had more important things to worry about than Zoya. I had an army to run and enemies on every side, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

I took a breath and tried to focus. The hardest part of the meeting was still to come. As much as I just wanted to curl up somewhere quiet and dark, there were things that needed to be addressed.