death.”
Brum shrugged. “It is still a death sentence, just one a little longer in the making. We discovered long ago that the Grisha could prove a useful resource.”
A resource. “You told me they were to be eradicated. That they were a blight on the natural world.”
“And they are—when they attempt to masquerade as men. They aren’t capable of right thinking, of human morality. They are meant to be controlled.”
“That’s why you wanted parem?” Matthias asked incredulously.
“We have tried our own methods for years with limited success.”
“But you’ve seen what jurda parem can do, what Grisha can do when in its grip—”
“A gun is not evil. Nor is a blade. Jurda parem ensures obedience. It makes Grisha what they were always meant to be.”
“A Second Army?” Matthias asked, his voice thick with scorn.
“An army is made of soldiers. These creatures were born to be weapons. They were born to serve the soldiers of Djel.” Brum squeezed his shoulder. “Ah, Matthias, how I’ve missed you. Your faith was always so pure. I’m glad you’re reluctant to embrace this measure, but this is our chance to strike a deathblow. Do you know why Grisha are so hard to kill? Because they’re not of this world. But they are very good at killing each other. They call it ‘like calls to like.’ Wait until you see all we’ve achieved, the weapons their Fabrikators have helped us develop.”
Matthias looked back down the hall. “Nina Zenik spent a year in Kerch trying to bargain for my freedom. I’m not sure those are the actions of a monster.”
“Can a viper lie still before it strikes? Can a wild dog lick your hand before it snaps at your neck? A Grisha may be capable of kindness, but that does not change her fundamental nature.”
Matthias considered this. He thought of Nina standing terrified in that cell as the door slammed shut. He had longed to see her made captive, punished as he had been punished. And yet, after everything they’d been through, he was not surprised by the pain he felt at seeing it come to pass.
“What is the Shu scientist like?” he asked Brum.
“Stubborn. Still grieving his father.”
Matthias knew nothing of Yul-Bayur’s father, but there was a more important question to ask. “Is he secure?”
“The treasury is the safest place on the island.”
“You keep him here with the Grisha?”
Brum nodded. “The main vault was converted to a laboratory for him.”
“And you’re sure it’s safe?”
“I have the master key,” said Brum, patting the disk hanging from his neck, “and he’s guarded night and day. Only a select few even know he’s here. It’s late, and I need to make sure Black Protocol has been addressed, but if you like, I’ll take you to see him tomorrow.” Brum placed his arm around Matthias. “And tomorrow we’ll deal with your return and reinstatement.”
“I still stand accused of slave trading.”
“We’ll get the girl to sign a statement recanting the slaving charges easily enough. Believe me, once she’s had her first taste of jurda parem, she’ll do anything you ask and more. There will be a hearing, but I swear you will wear drüskelle colors again, Matthias.”
Drüskelle colors. Matthias had worn them with such pride. And the things he’d felt for Nina had caused him so much shame. It was still with him, maybe it always would be. He’d spent too many years full of hate for it to vanish overnight. But now the shame was an echo, and all he felt was regret—for the time he’d wasted, for the pain he’d caused, and yes, even now, for what he was about to do.
He turned to Brum, this man who had become father and mentor to him. When he’d lost his family, it had been Brum who had recruited him for the drüskelle. Matthias had been young, angry, completely unskilled. But he’d given what was left of his broken heart to the cause. A false cause. A lie. When had he seen it? When he’d helped Nina bury her friend? When he’d fought beside her? Or had it been long before—when she’d slept in his arms that first night on the ice? When she’d saved him from the shipwreck?
Nina had wronged him, but she’d done it to protect her people. She’d hurt him, but she’d attempted everything in her power to make things right. She’d shown him in a thousand ways that she was honorable and strong and generous and very human, maybe more vividly human than anyone he’d ever known. And if