Chapter 2

Nikolai woke to the rough jostling of a carriage. Except he wasn't in a carriage; he was on the floor in the back of a covered wagon, hands bound behind him and a rag stuffed in his mouth that was knotted tightly at the back of his skull. A wheel went over a rut, sending a spike of pain through his aching head. He began to squirm and strain against the ropes wound around his wrists.

The wagon came to a stop, and Nikolai tensed at the sounds of movement outside. When the back tent flap was flipped aside, Nikolai struck out with a kick, making contact with someone's chest. The man grunted and let out a curse, then swiftly hopped up into the back of the wagon. Nikolai tried to kick again, but the muscular brute caught his leg, then grabbed some rope from a small crate and proceeded to lash it around Nikolai's ankles, restraining him further. The man called something over his shoulder—was he speaking Shu? Another man appeared and passed in a folded handkerchief.

Nikolai wanted to demand what they wanted with him and where his lookalike was, but with the gag in his mouth, he didn't get the chance. And then his captor pressed the cloth over his face, and that sickly ether permeated his nose again. He bucked by reflex, though it did no good and he slipped back into darkness.

Everything was hazy after that. He thought he woke a few more times, but each time, his captors were quick to drug him again. The next time he had more than a vague sense of consciousness, his head was throbbing and felt full of lead as dark shapes moved around him. He was swaying, and for a moment Nikolai thought he was drowning. But then he sluggishly realized he'd been transferred from the wagon to a stretcher and was being carried through a dark corridor. The ceiling above him blurred, and then he was gone again, swept away on a tide of oblivion.

His next sensation was one of glacial cold, and he woke to his body violently shivering. He had the brief thought that he had been taken to Fjerda, but as the amorphous shapes around him coalesced into identifiable figures, he saw they were, in fact, Shu. And to his dismay, Makhi Kir-Taban appeared above him, her mouth curved in a self-satisfied smirk.

"Welcome, Your Highness," she said smugly. "Or, former Highness."

Nikolai jolted with adrenaline and tried to sit up, only to find he was tied down on a metal table. Steel cuffs were fastened around his wrists and ankles, and he'd been stripped down to just a pair of undergarment pants. His gloves had been removed as well, and the black scars stood out against the shiny gray metal.

"Where am I?" he demanded, trying to maintain a level voice despite the very real alarm ringing through him.

Her eyes gleamed with sinister glee. "The Khergud Program."

Nikolai stiffened. "That was shut down."

"Yes, it was," Makhi replied, derision slipping into her expression. "This is all that remains. One laboratory I managed to keep secret."

Nikolai's stomach dropped out from under him. "We're in Shu Han?"

Makhi snorted. "As though that was hard to figure out."

He swallowed hard. "Why did you bring me here? And what plan do you have for the double you left in my place?"

"I couldn't very well have that Dragon Queen go on a rampage if you were to go missing," she replied disdainfully.

Nikolai's jaw tightened. "Zoya won't be fooled by a pretender."

Makhi grinned. "I think she will be fooled just long enough for my agent to get close enough to kill her."

Nikolai's heart skipped a beat in horror, and he began to strain against the metal cuffs.

Makhi tutted at him. "You should let the demon out if you want to give it a real effort, though that's Grisha steel, so it still wouldn't matter."

Nikolai fell still at the mention of his demon.

Makhi smirked again. "Yes, that is why you're here. I may be prohibited from continuing my research on Grisha, but I don't think anyone would have a problem with me studying the demon bastard from Ravka. After all, you're not even king anymore."

At that, one of her minions came over with a syringe and slid the needle into the crook of Nikolai's elbow, then pulled back the plunger to extract some blood. When he'd filled the syringe, he removed the needle and went back to a work station, leaving the bead of blood that gathered on Nikolai's arm. That was apparently all they were going to do to him for the moment, but Nikolai dreaded what more was to come. The horrors that had created the khergud soldiers rushed to the forefront of his mind. Men ripped apart and put back together with metal. More mechanical than human, with no soul left in their augmented bodies.

Makhi continued to loom over Nikolai, no doubt enjoying this position of power and domination over him. "You know," she began, "we are not that dissimilar. I know of your aptitude for inventing."

"There's a difference between inventing and experimenting on real people," he snarled. "Which I have never done."

"Pity. Who knows how much more powerful Ravka would be if you had. I'm sure with that mind of yours, you could have come up with some truly inspired works."

Nikolai felt sick at the insinuation that he would ever do anything like that.

"Unfortunately," Makhi went on, "with your…affliction, you are now more valuable as a subject than a scientist."

With that, she finally turned away, leaving Nikolai nothing more than an ignored specimen strapped to the table.

Zoya made her way to Nikolai's workshop. She hadn't seen him in over a day now, and she'd vowed not to let the burdens of being queen put distance between them. But when she entered his workshop, he barely acknowledged her. Thinking he was perhaps engrossed in what he was working on, Zoya went around the table to take a look, but he was just musing over some old drawings and diagrams, which he immediately slid away from her.

She quirked her brow in confusion at him. "Is something wrong?"

He sat there for an extra beat, then exhaled. "I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

He stood and gestured between them, not quite meeting her eye. "This."

Zoya bristled. "And what exactly is 'this'? We haven't talked about it in-depth. You love me and I love you, but things are 'complicated' right now and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about that."

"Nothing," he said coldly. "There's nothing you can do. I was a king, and I can't be your conquest."

She sputtered incredulously. "I would make you my king!"

Nikolai shook his head. "No. This whole thing was a mistake. It's not what I want."

Zoya reeled as though she'd been slapped by the unspoken, "You're not what I want." She stood there, confused and hurt. "Why are you saying this?" she demanded.

"Because I can't pretend anymore."

With that, he strode around the other end of the table and out the door. Zoya remained where she was, stunned. She felt blindsided and part of her wanted to lash out in anger, yet another part didn't believe him. Nikolai did love her; she knew that. And he only ever cared about being king to help Ravka, not for glory or prestige.

Her anger bloomed hotter as she realized he was being a martyr for some Saints-forsaken reason he'd concocted in his head. She didn't know what had changed since their picnic in the garden, since he'd taken the time and effort to put in the watering system to tend her flowers when she couldn't. But she wasn't going to let him unilaterally decide they were over, not after everything they had been through.

So she turned and stormed after him. Of course, he was long gone by now. Zoya looked at Tolya, who had been standing guard outside. "Where did he go?" she asked sharply.

Tolya pointed down the hall. "Everything okay?" he tentatively asked. "Nikolai was…brusque."

"He's being an idiot," she snapped. "And needs some sense knocked into him."

Tolya just made a grimace and fell into step behind her as she made her way down the hall. She at least tried to rein in her temper as they passed servants and she asked if they had seen Nikolai. She was directed all the way to his rooms where she pulled up and pounded on the door. When he opened it, she didn't ask permission and simply pushed her way inside. He shut it behind her without a word.

"If you're doing this because you think it's what I and Ravka need, I'm going to punch you," Zoya railed.

Nikolai just regarded her for a long moment, and there was a strange detachment in his eyes that unsettled her.

"Did something happen?" she asked earnestly. "Did someone threaten you?"

He continued to stare at her, then said, "You think you are untouchable."

Zoya furrowed her brow. "What? Is that what this is about? Someone threatened me? I am not a damsel that needs saving." She was a dragon.

He stepped closer to her, and she shifted uncertainly as she searched his eyes and was inexplicably struck by something being…off.

"Nikolai, talk to me," she beseeched.

He placed one hand on her shoulder, looking right at her intently, and she gazed back, waiting, silently begging for him to put down whatever wall this was. She didn't see his other hand move. The blade that plunged right into the center of her sternum stole her breath in a startled gasp. She looked down blankly at the knife embedded to the hilt, then back up in shock at the man she loved.

He's not Nikolai was the fleeting thought before her body jerked as he gave the blade a vicious twist before yanking it out. Then he pulled his arm back to stab her again.

Her arms were numb and she couldn't have summoned if she'd wanted to, but her dragon instincts flared, blasting him with a sudden gust that threw him across the room and into the wall. Tolya burst through the door at the noisy crash just as Zoya sank to her knees, blood gushing from the stab wound.

"Zoya!" he exclaimed and bolted toward her, hands moving urgently as he attempted to stop the bleeding.

But then Nikolai—or not Nikolai—was getting up, and he was still holding the knife. Tolya twisted around, only to freeze at the mind-boggling sight of Nikolai posing a threat.

"Put him down!" Zoya gritted out.

Tolya snapped out of his stupor and used his heartrending to render Nikolai unconscious. He then turned back to Zoya and her grievous wound. "What happened?" he asked frantically.

"I d-don't know," she said, her whole body trembling from blood loss and shock.

Tolya caught her as she listed sideways and eased her to the floor, then jumped to his feet and ran to the door to yell for help.

Zoya stared across the room at Nikolai's unconscious form, her whole world shattering around her.

Tolya stood outside the holding cell he'd dragged an unconscious Nikolai to. He'd clamped the former king's hands in restraints before reviving him, but Nikolai had refused to speak, and so Tolya had stepped out of the cell and locked it, but he couldn't bring himself to leave, not even to check on Zoya. She had been very badly wounded, but she was in the hands of skilled Healers, and the dragon powers she possessed made her a little more resilient than most Grisha.

Tolya stared at his silent friend, all twisted up inside. He couldn't deny what he'd seen upstairs: Zoya having been stabbed and Nikolai holding the weapon, not to mention coming at her again. This was all so wrong.

Tamar came rushing into the room, frantically glancing between Tolya and Nikolai. "What is going on?"

Tolya shook his head, at a loss. "He won't speak."

Tamar went up to the bars. "Nikolai? What happened?"

He didn't respond to her either.

"What could it be?" Tolya asked, desperate for answers. "Jurda parem is immediately lethal to otkazat'sya, unless the demon alters the effect? But this?"

"No, it doesn't seem like parem," Tamar agreed. "Perhaps another drug was used to alter his mind. Nikolai, please talk to us. Why did you do this?"

He continued to hold his silence. Also very uncharacteristic of him. It was unnerving, seeing him sit so still and silent, like a lifelike sculpture instead of a real person.

Harried footsteps in the hall preceded Nadia and Adrik hurrying in, looking tense.

"Word is spreading quickly and the court is calling for Nikolai's immediate execution," Nadia told them.

Tolya stiffened. "He didn't do this on his own; something was done to him."

"I believe you," she replied. "But soldiers are coming for him."

Sure enough, hot on their heels came the echoing march of many boots, and General Makarovich of the First Army arrived, flanked by several armed men.

"We're here for the traitor," the general declared.

The Grisha wordlessly and unanimously formed a line between the First Army and the prisoner.

"An investigation must be conducted," Tamar rejoined.

"There's nothing to investigate," Makarovich said. "There were witnesses. Nikolai Lantsov attempted to assassinate the Queen." He shot a demanding look at Tolya. "Do you deny this?"

Tolya's jaw ticked. "There's more to it," he insisted. "Nikolai wouldn't do this of his own accord. Something isn't right, and we need to find out what it is."

The general sneered at them derisively. "You are holding old loyalties above your oaths as Grisha and servants of Ravka. Perhaps an investigation should be launched into whether you were complicit in this barbarous attack."

"Stand down," Zoya's sharp voice sounded from the back, and the soldiers parted as she pushed her way into the room. Genya was with her, looking anxious.

"Moya tsaritsa," Makarovich said with a small bow.

Zoya held herself upright with shoulders back and straight. "Seeing as I have not been assassinated, I will deal with this matter personally. Dismissed."

"Your Majesty," Makarovich started.

"Stand down, General," Zoya repeated in a stern tone that conveyed she would not ask again.

The general gave a grudging bow and left with his men. Once they were all gone, Zoya's posture instantly folded, and Genya quickly caught one arm to hold her steady. Nadia ducked in to support her as well.

"Should you be up and around?" she asked in concern.

"I'm fine," Zoya grunted.

"You should be resting," Genya said to the contrary. "I didn't finish closing the wound."

"Time was of the essence," Zoya replied stubbornly. "Let me see him."

Tolya, Tamar, and Adrik stepped back, and Zoya staggered up to the bars.

"Nikolai," she said, her voice wavering with desperation.

He still refused to answer or even look at her.

"We think maybe he was drugged with something," Tamar put in. "Some kind of brainwashing."

Zoya's expression pinched at that, and Tolya knew they were all feeling sickened by that possibility. Because if it was true, how were they going to fix it?

"Has anyone noticed a change in his behavior before today?" Adrik asked.

Zoya sagged. "I haven't seen him in almost two days."

The two of them looked around at the rest of them, and Tolya felt a pang of guilt that was mirrored on his sister's face, and also Genya's. None of them had spent much time with him lately, always too busy with responsibilities.

"So we have no way of knowing who he could have come into contact with or when," Nadia surmised.

Genya turned to look through the bars, then stiffened. "Open the door."

Tolya automatically withdrew the key to unlock the cell, and Genya pushed her way inside to stand over Nikolai.

"What?" Tamar asked urgently.

The rest of them crowded around to see what had caught Genya's attention.

"One eye is the wrong color," she said.

Tolya's brows furrowed in confusion for a long moment before realization sank in. As they stood there watching, Nikolai's face began to…change. Warp. Just small things—the one eye color being different than the other, one nostril sinking slightly. There were wisps of dark hair appearing at the roots.

Tolya and Tamar were both quite familiar with the effects of tailoring from Sturmhond's days. And the revelation of what was before them was even more horrifying than what they'd thought.

"This isn't Nikolai."