Page 174 of Rule of Wolves

As the Fjerdans caught sight of the winged Shu, they opened fire. Reyem whirled in the air, turning his back to the gunfire, sheltering Mayu and Bergin. Bullets pelted his back and his wings, the sound like hard rain on a metal roof.

“Reyem!” she cried.

“I’m all right,” he said, the calm sound of his voice so strange amid the chaos of battle.

Harbinger had his stout arms wrapped around Tamar to protect her, but Nightmoth and Scarab threw themselves at the Fjerdan soldiers, oblivious to the bullets peppering their bodies. Some Fjerdans ran screaming from the monsters descending from on high; others tried to stand their ground. But they were no match for the strength and speed of the khergud. They were fearless, relentless. Nightmoth lowered his head, using his horns like a battering ram. Mayu saw Scarab rip the rifle from a Fjerdan’s hand, then tear the arms from his body, her metal claws flashing.

“Take us down!” Tamar demanded.

Locust and Harbinger obliged. Mayu’s feet struck ground, and she went to one knee before she righted herself. Scarab and Nightmoth had pushed the Fjerdan line back, but the enemy had far greater numbers and they wouldn’t stay in retreat for long.

“Dare I hope you haven’t come to kill us all?” Nikolai shouted over the din of the battle.

Tamar threw an arm around her twin. “I’ve come to save your ass, little brother.”

“Two minutes!” said Tolya. “You’re two minutes older than me.”

They drew their weapons, standing back to back. Mayu snatched a rifle from the hands of a fallen soldier.

“I thought you couldn’t send reinforcements,” said King Nikolai. His lip was bloodied, his uniform covered in dirt and gore. He’d been shot in the left shoulder and had a rifle in his hands.

“The queen forbade it,” said Tamar.

Now Mayu met the king’s eyes. “But as far as the government is concerned, the khergud don’t exist.”

“Schemes within schemes,” said Nikolai. “Welcome back.”

At the summer palace, Tamar and Mayu had left their audience with Queen Leyti and the princesses and found their way back to Bergin and Reyem.

“You were right,” Mayu had said. “Makhi will rule side by side with Ehri as regent. No trial. No punishment. The Taban line remains unblemished.”

Bergin had shrugged his gaunt shoulders. “There’s a war on. They want peace and stability. Justice is a luxury people like us can’t afford.”

“They’re going to bring the other khergud here,” said Mayu. “To recover.”

“Exile,” Reyem had said. “Maybe it’s for the best. We aren’t fit to be around human beings.”

“Don’t say that,” said Bergin. “We’re alive. We’re free.”

“Are we? How long will the khergud be allowed to live when our very existence threatens the Taban? We’re a secret they can’t risk being exposed.” He looked out the window, toward the shores of the lake. “And we aren’t meant to live in isolation, without purpose. We were built for battle.”

“Ravka won’t let any harm come to you,” Tamar vowed. “I won’t. We have a treaty now.”

“To protect the rights of Grisha,” Mayu objected. “What do you care for the khergud?”

Tamar’s golden eyes flashed. “They’re victims of parem, just as much as the Grisha.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mayu said. “What good will the treaty be when Ravka falls to the Fjerdans?”

“Don’t underestimate King Nikolai,” Tamar replied. “He’ll fight until there’s no fight left in him. And so will I.”

Bergin rose. “If you’re going to the front, I want to go with you.”

Reyem turned. “You … you’re leaving?”

He’d said it with little emotion, but Mayu had sensed the turmoil inside him.

“Ravka may not be my homeland, but I’m Grisha. I’ll fight for the king who gave me freedom.”