Rule of Wolves (King of Scars #2) - Leigh Bardugo Page 0,161

of heavily armed flyers parked on its runways, ready to leap into the air. Spires like giant prongs were arrayed in curving rows on either side of the base—viewing towers. They looked like teeth and gave the base the appearance of a gaping mouth. Uniformed soldiers and military personnel swarmed over the deck like insects, many of them congregating near a central structure of buildings that served as a command center. Its flat roof was painted with the Fjerdan flag—the Grimjer wolf rampant.

Dread sat heavy on Nina’s shoulders, a living, muscled thing that whispered doom in her ear. She knew little about weapons of war, but she knew Ravka had nothing like this monstrosity. It was beyond imagination.

The airship set down on one of the base’s landing strips, and she followed Hanne and Ylva along the gangway.

Redvin was waiting at the bottom of the ramp in his drüskelle uniform. He grinned, and Nina knew she would be content to live a hundred years and never see that expression of eager anticipation on his grizzled face again. “Welcome to Leviathan’s Mouth.”

“Where is Commander Brum?” Nina asked.

“Where he needs to be,” said Redvin. “I’ll show you to your quarters.”

“What is this place?” whispered Hanne. She sounded as scared as Nina felt. All their plans and schemes seemed futile in the face of power like this.

Their quarters turned out to be a cramped box with bunk beds tucked against both walls.

“Well, thankfully we have a private washroom and we’ll all be together,” said Ylva. Nina suspected she meant it. Hanne’s mother might never trust them on their own again.

Brum arrived in their dimly lit cabin after midnight. He looked happier than Nina had seen him in months.

“It’s time,” he said.

Ylva gave a tremulous smile. “You must promise me you’ll be safe.”

“Ask me to be brave, not safe,” Brum said. “I will be with my men on the northern front. But you will be secure here with Redvin, and you’ll have a bird’s-eye view of the sea invasion. Our ships finally broke Sturmhond’s blockade. Ravka’s coast is ours for the taking.”

Nina felt sick. Had the Kerch helped to smash through Sturmhond’s ships? But if Fjerda intended to invade the coast … “You weren’t really negotiating with West Ravka.”

“Clever girl,” said Brum. “No, we had no reason to negotiate with them in good faith. Their navy is no match for ours. With the blockade in ruins, we can invade by sea in the south and on land in the north. Our forces will crush Os Kervo like a pair of pincers.”

The troops attacking from the north must already be on the move. The second front would be launched from the sea. Fjerda would use this nightmare of a base to storm the beaches south of Os Kervo. West Ravka didn’t stand a chance, and once the coast belonged to Fjerda, they’d push east and take Ravka’s capital.

The information was useless to her now. She had no way to reach her contacts in the Hringsa, and even if she did, the intelligence would come too late.

A bird’s-eye view of the invasion. She would watch Fjerda shatter the west, and then what hope would there be? Ravka would never recover from such a blow. Peace would be impossible.

Once Brum was gone, Nina tried to rest but couldn’t find sleep. She had the sense that she was rushing toward something in the dark, with no way to stop her momentum.

Ylva roused them before dawn to lead them to one of the observation towers. “Rebraid your hair, Mila,” she suggested. “And pinch your cheeks to put a little color in them. Many important men will be watching the invasion. You never know whose attention you might catch.”

Nina resisted the urge to roll her eyes and obliged Ylva. If this pretense would keep her in the Brums’ household a while longer, she would gladly primp and flirt as required.

When they emerged on the vast expanse of the deck, Nina could see lights glinting off the Ravkan coast. Leviathan had crept closer to land in the night.

As they were about to enter the tower, a voice called out, “Hanne Brum!”

Prince Rasmus was strolling across the deck in a military uniform, flanked by royal guards, a grim-faced Joran at his side. At the sight of the young drüskelle, Nina felt her rage return. She’d pushed it aside for Hanne’s sake, to keep them both safe, but there would be a reckoning. Hanne might wish for Nina to look to the future, but