“The same family has been breeding the isenulf for generations. They live far north near Stenrink, the Ring of Stones. When a new litter arrives, we travel there by foot and by sledge, and each drüskelle chooses a pup. From then on, you are each other’s responsibility. You fight beside each other, sleep on the same furs, your rations are your wolf’s rations. He is not your pet. He is a warrior like you, a brother.”
Nina shivered, and Matthias felt a sick rush of shame. In a battle with Grisha, the isenulf could help even the odds for a drüskelle , trained to come to his aid and tear out his attacker’s throat. Heartrender power seemed to have no effect on animals. A Grisha like Nina would be virtually helpless under isenulf attack.
“What if something happens to the wolf?” Nina asked.
“A drüskelle can train a new wolf, but it is a terrible loss.”
“What happens to the wolf if his drüskelle is killed?”
Matthias was silent for a time. He did not want to think about this. Trass had been the creature of his heart.
“They are returned to the wild, but they will never be accepted by any pack.” And what was a wolf without a pack? The isenulf were not meant to live alone.
When had the other drüskelle decided Matthias was dead? Had it been Brum who had taken Trass north to the ice? The idea of his wolf left alone, howling for Matthias to come and take him home, carved a hollow ache in his chest. It felt like something had broken there and left an echo, the lonely snap of a branch too heavy with snow.
As if she had sensed his sorrow, Nina had opened her eyes, the pale green of a bud about to unfurl, a color that brought him back from the ice. “What was his name?”
“Trassel.”
The corner of her lips tilted. “Troublemaker.”
“No one else wanted him.”
“Was he a runt?”
“No,” Matthias said. “The opposite.”
It had taken more than a week of hard travel to reach the Ring of Stones. Matthias hadn’t enjoyed the trip. He’d been twelve years old, new to the drüskelle , and every day he’d thought about running away. He didn’t mind the training. The hours spent running and sparring helped to keep the longing he felt for his family at bay. He wanted to be an officer. He wanted to fight Grisha. He wanted a chance to bring honor to the memory of his parents and his sister. The drüskelle had given him purpose. But the rest of it? The jokes in the mess hall? The endless boasting and mindless chatter? That he had no use for. He had a family. They were buried beneath the black earth, their souls gone to Djel. The drüskelle were merely a means to an end.
Brum had warned him that he would never become a true drüskelle if he did not learn to see the other boys as his brothers, but Matthias didn’t believe that. He was the biggest, the strongest, the fastest. He didn’t need to be popular to survive.
He’d ridden in the back of the sled for the entirety of the journey, huddled in his furs, speaking to no one, and when they’d finally arrived at the Ring of Stones, he’d hung back, unsure of himself as the other drüskelle bolted into the big barn, yelling and shoving one another, each of them diving for the pile of wriggling white wolf pups with their ice-chip eyes.
The truth was that he wanted a wolf pup desperately, but he knew there might not be enough for all of them. It was up to the breeder which boy was paired with each pup and who went home empty-handed. Many of the boys were already talking to the old woman, attempting to charm her.
“You see? This one likes me.”
“Look! Look! I got her to sit!”
Matthias knew he should try to be personable, make some kind of effort, but instead he found himself drawn to the kennels in the back of the barn. In the corner, in a wire cage, he caught a yellow flash—light reflecting off a pair of wary eyes. He drew closer and saw a wolf, a pup no longer, but not yet full grown. He growled as Matthias drew closer to the cage, hackles raised, head lowered, teeth bared. The young wolf had a long scar across his muzzle. It had cut across his right eye and changed part of the iris from blue to mottled brown.
“Don’t want no business with that one,” said the breeder.
Matthias didn’t know when she’d snuck up behind him. “Can he see?”
“He can, but he don’t like people.”
“Why not?”
“He got out when he was still a pup. Made it across two miles of ice fields. Kid found him and cut him up with a broken bottle. Won’t let no one near him since, and he’s getting too old to train. Probably have to put him down soon.”
“Let me take him.”
“He’d just as soon tear you to bits as let you feed him, boy. We’ll have a pup for you next time.”
As soon as the woman walked away, Matthias opened the cage. And just as fast, the wolf lunged forward and bit him.
Matthias wanted to scream as the wolf’s teeth sank into his forearm. He toppled to the ground, the wolf on top of him, the pain beyond anything he’d ever known. But he did not make a sound. He held the wolf’s gaze as its teeth sank more deeply into the muscle of his arm, a growl rumbling through the animal’s chest.
Matthias suspected that the wolf’s jaws were strong enough to break bone, but he did not struggle, did not cry out, did not drop his gaze. I won’t hurt you , he swore, even if you hurt me .
A long moment passed, and then another. Matthias could feel blood soaking through his sleeve. He thought he might lose consciousness.
Then, slowly, the wolf’s jaws released. The animal sat back, the white fur of his muzzle coated in Matthias’ blood, head tilted to one side. The wolf released a huff of breath.
“Nice to meet you too,” said Matthias.
He sat up cautiously, bandaged his arm with the bottom of his shirt, and then he and his wolf, both covered in blood, walked back to where the others were playing in a pile of wolf pups and gray uniforms.
“This one’s mine,” he said as they all turned to stare, and the old woman shook her head. Then Matthias passed out.
That night, on the ship, Matthias had told Nina about Trassel, his fierce nature, his ragged scar. Eventually, she had dozed and Matthias had let himself shut his eyes. The ice was waiting. The killing wind came with white teeth, the wolves howled in the distance, and Nina cried out, but Matthias could not go to her.
The dream had come every night since. It was hard not to see it as some kind of omen, and when Nina had casually dropped that yellow pill into her pocket, it had been like watching the storm come on: the roar of the wind filling his ears, the cold burrowing into his bones, the certainty that he was going to lose her.
“Parem might not work on you anymore,” he said now. They’d finally reached the deserted canal where they’d moored the gondel .
“What?”
“Your power has changed, hasn’t it?”
Nina’s footsteps faltered. “Yes.”
“Because of the parem ?”
Now Nina stopped. “Why are you asking me this?”
He didn’t want to ask her. He wanted to kiss her again. But he said, “If you were captured, the Shu might not be able to use the drug to enslave you.”
“Or it could be just as bad as before.”
“That pill, the poison Tamar gave you—”
Nina laid a hand on his arm. “I’m not going to be captured, Matthias.”
“But if you were—”
“I don’t know what the parem did to me. I have to believe the effects will wear off in time.”
“And if they don’t?”
“They have to,” she said, brow furrowed. “I can’t live like this. It’s like … being only half of myself. Although …”
“Although?” he urged.
“The craving isn’t quite so bad right now,” she said as if realizing it herself. “In fact, I’ve barely thought of parem since the fight at the tavern.”
“Using this new power helped?”
“Maybe,” she said cautiously. “And—” She frowned. Matthias heard a low, curling growl.
“Was that your stomach ?”
“It was.” Nina’s face split in a dazzling grin. “Matthias, I’m famished.”
Could she truly be healing at last? Or had what she’d done at the tavern returned her appetite to her? He didn’t care. He was just glad she was smiling that way. He picked her up and spun her in the air.
“You’re going to strain something if you keep doing that,” she said with another radiant smile.
“You’re light as a feather.”
“I do not want to see that bird. Now let’s go get me a stack of waffles twice as tall as you. I—”