Ruin and Rising (The Grisha Trilogy)(26)

I looked at our camp: Harshaw already curled up and snoozing with Oncat on his chest; Sergei, pale and watchful; David, back propped against a tree, a book in his hands as Genya fell asleep with her head in his lap; Nadia and Adrik struggling with poles and canvas while Zoya looked on and didn’t bother to help.

Despise your heart. I wanted to. I didn’t want to grieve anymore, to feel loss or guilt, or worry. I wanted to be hard, calculating. I wanted to be fearless. Underground, that had seemed possible. Here, in this wood, with these people, I was less sure.

Eventually, I must have dozed, because when I woke, it was late afternoon and the sun was slanting through the trees. Tolya was beside me.

“Tamar’s back,” he said.

I sat upright, fully awake. But the look on Tolya’s face was grim.

“No one approached her?”

He shook his head. I straightened my shoulders. I didn’t want anyone to see my disappointment. I should be grateful Tamar had made it in and out of the city safely.

“Does Mal know?”

“No,” said Tolya. “He’s filling canteens at the creek. Harshaw and Stigg are on watch. Should I get them?”

“It can wait.”

Tamar was leaning against a tree, gulping down water from a tin cup as the others gathered around to hear her report.

“Any trouble?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“And you’re sure you were in the right place?” Tolya said.

“West side of the market square. I got there early, stayed late, checked in with the shopkeeper, watched the same damn puppet show four times. If the post is active, someone should have spoken to me.”

“We could try again tomorrow,” suggested Adrik.

“I should go,” said Tolya. “You were there a long time. If you show up again, people may notice.”

Tamar wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “If I stab the puppeteer, will that draw too much attention?”

“Not if you’re quiet about it,” replied Nadia.

Her cheeks pinked as we all turned to look at her. I’d never heard Nadia crack a joke. She’d mostly been an audience to Marie.

Tamar slipped a dagger from her wrist and twirled it, balancing its point on one fingertip. “I can be quiet,” she said, “and merciful. I may let the puppets live.” She took another gulp of water. “I heard some news too. Big news. West Ravka has declared for Nikolai.”

That got our attention.

“They’re blocking off the western shore of the Fold,” she continued. “So if the Darkling wants weapons or ammunition—”

“He’ll have to go through Fjerda,” finished Zoya.

But it was bigger than that. This meant the Darkling had lost West Ravka’s coastline, its navy, the already tenuous access Ravka had to trade.

“West Ravka now,” Tolya said. “Maybe the Shu Han next.”

“Or Kerch,” put in Zoya.

“Or both!” crowed Adrik.

I could almost see the tendril of hope twisting its way through our ranks.

“So now what?” Sergei asked, tugging anxiously at his sleeve.

“Let’s wait one more day,” Nadia said.

“I don’t know,” said Tamar. “I don’t mind going back. But there were oprichniki in the square today.”

Not a good sign. The oprichniki were the Darkling’s personal soldiers. If they were prowling the area, we had good reason to move on as soon as possible.

“I’m going to go talk to Mal,” I said. “Don’t get too comfortable. We may need to be ready to leave in the morning.”

The others dispersed while Tamar and Nadia walked off to dig through the rations. Tamar kept bouncing and spinning her knife—definitely showing off, but Nadia didn’t seem to mind.

I picked my way toward the sound of the water, trying to sort through my thoughts. If West Ravka had declared for Nikolai, that was a very good sign that he was alive and well and making more trouble for the Darkling than anyone in the White Cathedral had realized. I was relieved, but I wasn’t certain what our next move should be.

When I reached the creek, Mal was crouching in the shallows, barefoot and bare-chested, his trousers rolled up to his knees. He was watching the water, his expression focused, but at the sound of my approach, he shot to his feet, already lunging for his rifle.

“Just me,” I said, stepping out of the woods.

He relaxed and dropped back down, eyes returning to the creek. “What are you doing out here?”

For a moment I just watched him. He stayed perfectly still, then suddenly, his hands plunged into the stream and emerged with a wriggling fish. He tossed it back. No point holding on to it when we couldn’t risk making a fire to cook it.

I’d seen him catch fish this way at Keramzin, even in winter, when Trivka’s pond froze over. He knew just where to break the ice, just where to drop his line or the moment to make his grab. I’d waited on the banks, keeping him company, trying to spot places in the trees where the birds made their nests.

It was different now, the water reflecting spangles of light over the planes of his face, the smooth play of muscle beneath his skin. I realized I was staring and gave myself a little shake. I’d seen him without a shirt before. There was no reason to be an idiot about it.