The Grisha #3 - Ruin and Rising by Leigh Bardugo

Author:Leigh Bardugo
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Hachette Children's Group
Published: 2014-06-18T22:00:00+00:00

Dawn was breaking by the time we finished hashing out the specifics of what we intended to do next. The Kingfisher had returned, and Nikolai sent it right back out again with a refreshed crew and a warning addressed to West Ravka’s merchant council that the Darkling might be planning an attack.

They also carried an invitation to meet with him and the Sun Summoner in neutral Kerch. It was too dangerous for Nikolai and me to risk getting caught in what might soon be enemy territory. The Pelican was back in the hangar and would soon depart for Keramzin without us. I wasn’t sure if I was sorry or relieved that I wouldn’t be able to travel with them to the orphanage, but there just wasn’t time for a detour. Mal and his team would leave for the Sikurzoi tomorrow aboard the Bittern, and I would meet up with them a week later. We would keep to our plan and hope the Darkling didn’t act before then.

There was more to discuss, but Nikolai had letters to write, and I needed to talk to Baghra. The time for lessons was over.

I found her in her darkened lair, the fire already stoked, the room unbearably warm. Misha had just brought in her breakfast tray. I waited as she ate her buckwheat kasha and sipped bitter black tea. When she’d finished, Misha opened the book to begin his reading, but Baghra silenced him quickly.

“Take the tray up,” she said. “The little Saint has something on her mind. If we make her wait any longer, she may jump out of her seat and shake me.”

Horrible woman. Did nothing escape her?

Misha lifted the tray. Then he hesitated, shifting from one foot to the other. “Do I have to come right back down?”

“Stop wriggling like a grub,” Baghra snapped, and Misha froze. She gave a wave. “Go on, you useless thing, but don’t be late with my lunch.”

He raced out the door, dishes rattling, and kicked it shut behind him.

“This is your fault,” Baghra complained. “He can never be still any more.”

“He’s a little boy. It’s not something they’re known for.” I made a mental note to have someone continue Misha’s fencing lessons while we were gone.

Baghra scowled and leaned closer to the fire, pulling her furs close around her. “Well,” she said, “we’re alone. What is it you want to know? Or would you rather sit there biting your tongue for another hour?”

I wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Baghra—”

“Either spit it out or let me take a nap.”

“The Darkling may have found a way to enter the Fold without me. He’ll be able to use it as a weapon. If there’s anything you can tell us, we need information.”

“Always the same question.”

“When I asked you if Morozova could have left the amplifiers unfinished, you said it wasn’t his way. Did you know him?”

“We’re finished here, girl,” she said, turning back to the fire. “You’ve wasted your morning.”

“You told me once that you hoped for redemption for your son.

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