Chapter Text
“...and the blessed Saint beheld the shadows, and sang… ‘Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that’.”
- Quote from the History of Ravka , penned fifty years after the fall of the Shadow Fold.
***
Right away, the Darkling insisted she move over to the Grisha encampment and ordered four of his finest oprichniki to guard her night and day. She might have resisted him making so many decisions on her behalf, had Mal not agreed it was for the best. By claiming her birthright she had inevitably stuck a large target to her back for would be Shu Han kidnappers and mercenaries from Fjerda (or any other opportunist inspired by greed or resentment). Soon word of her existence would leak out of Kribirsk and ripple to the far edges of the map.
The Darkling went so far as to offer her a room in his private tent but she declined this. Instead she was given lodgings close by and Olya and Mal moved in with her.
The Darkling wanted them to return to the safety of the Little Place immediately but Alina pointed out they were already close to the Fold - so why would they run away now? She had no wish to meet the fat weak king who sat idly by while his country fell to ruin. She remembered the devastation she saw on the roads to Kribirsk.
“You should guard your words carefully, Miss Starkov,” the Darkling remarked, though she caught the inklings of a smirk. “It just so happens that I share your sentiments but you’ll find plenty of bootlickers who don’t, and who will gladly turn in the Sun Summoner to curry favour. Despite his ineffectiveness the Lantsov king can be a spiteful enemy and make life very unpleasant for you. You’d do well to dance to his tune for now.”
Like you do, she reflected. Or do you conspire in the dark, in secret? You are stronger than the king, it must be shameful to bow low to such a man. Surely… you hunger for more?
She had no patience for politics but resigned herself to the fact it was a skill she would need to master, and quickly. Perhaps with guidance from the Darkling if everything went according to plan.
“Even so, I will not be going to the Little Palace with you. We have work to do here," she insisted stubbornly.
Alina studied the large map before her, glancing between Os Alta and Kribirsk, and then over to Keramzin where Ana Kuya and Sonechka were. Other unknown towns and settlements were scattered in between and she felt very ignorant. She should have left the orphanage earlier despite the Upyr’s frank verdict on her character: hopelessly inexperienced, naïve, undisciplined.
Her fingers drummed against the edge of the table and she huddled into the fur lining of her beautiful kefta. It was a cold evening and the winds were blowing up a gale outside. Mal’s warnings about would-be attackers made her reluctant to use her light again so soon, especially in the Darkling’s tent.
She’d come here to enquire about her lodgings and ask for her own sigil banners (for everything was irritatingly adorned with his own black crest - even the banner that hung above her tent). But that was a flimsy excuse, one he saw through immediately.
They’d been separated for mere hours since riding back into Kribirsk, but the ache in her chest demanded she seek him out again. She had questions, yes, but it was also hard to ignore the push and pull she felt flowing through her veins. Nor did she want to…not now she had been exposed to the salve that was his presence. His oprichniki let her pass without question.
The Darkling was standing on the other side of the map now, studying her movements like a huntsman. They were mercifully alone so she let her gaze wander. Without his heavy black cloak she noticed that he was leaner than he first appeared, yet he loomed above her in height. There was a gracefulness to his figure, though his movements were always precise and measured. Nothing like Mal’s clumsy bulk.
“Your blinding optimism is inspiring. Tell me, have you stepped foot in the Shadow Fold? Have you seen its horrors? Or is this the first time you’ve left your little orphanage?” he asked shrewdly.
She ignored the last part, it was too close to the truth. “No, sir, I’ve not been inside, but it’s plagued my nightmares for a very long time.”
And so have you, Alina thought.
“And yet you think you’re strong enough to tear it down?”
“I do.”
She heard the subtle draw of his breath. “You’re holding your cards admirably close to your chest, Miss Starkov. I will ask once again…who was your teacher? Were they Grisha?”
Alina couldn’t help but snigg*r softly at that. He wouldn’t coax it out of her.
“I wasn’t lying before. The creature who taught me how to control my gifts was a particularly nasty upyr with sharp teeth and eyes as black as smoke.”
She caught the way his lips twitched.
“You’re lucky I find your nonsense charming. At any rate, I’ll need to assess your strength before I accept any offer of help. Come with me to Os Alta. We can explore your light there together, undisturbed. What is another year?”
“You’re mistaken, General. As the Sun Summoner it’s my destiny to balance the shadows and I do not take that duty lightly. I’ve been forced to wait on the sidelines of this war for too long…but I’m here now and I’m eager to begin. The Fold is a blight on the world and must be stopped, before it is used for further evil. We can’t let it be used as a weapon by powerful men with ambitious hearts. Do you not agree, sir?”
And there, Alina lay it out openly in the space before them (just like when Ana Kuya played chess). For she knew he had no intention of tearing down the Shadow Fold thanks to the Upyr’s inside information, and now he knew of her suspicions.
It was also a declaration that she would be no pawn. Perhaps were she untrained and naïve about her gifts, she might have fallen beneath the weight of his influence and let it crush her. She could easily picture how some frightened lonely girl might drown in the dark intensity of his eyes.
But she was none of those things. She was his equal and would not cower or submit, despite being far younger in years and experience.
She’d pondered a great many times whether the Shadow Summoner was to be her friend or foe. The question was always in the back of her mind, haunting her. She’d hoped that after meeting him face to face she would feel certain about which it was …but instead she was left more confused than ever about what role he was to play in her eternal life. Perhaps she would never know? Perhaps they would go through life being a great many things to one another.
But she still offered a hand to the man the Saints intended to be her partner and balance. If they were to dance this dance forever (as allies, enemies, friends even) then she would have to extend some level of trust, for trust could only grow from example, and she knew it was not in his dark nature to offer it first. Maybe this decision was a mistake, maybe it would lead to her undoing, but still she wanted to try.
For she found herself enjoying his company. She did not wish to fight him.
Alina eyed him cautiously as she waited for his reaction, yet felt no urge to run or hide. The Darkling could very well attack and seek to punish her for her words (her threat), and give her a reminder that this was no childish game. She could almost hear his warnings to tread carefully, that he would not take kindly to her meddling in his schemes.
But instead the Darkling took her hand in between his gloved ones and brushed his lips over the back of her knuckles. The skin that grazed his lips seemed to burn and blister, and her power flashed up screaming to be unleashed. She had a hard job of reigning it back. Another riddle to add to the long list.
When the Darkling broke the silence and laughed, Alina couldn’t help but join in. Their laughter filled the tent until she could no longer hear the stormy winds outside.
She even accepted the woven blanket he swung around her shoulders for warmth.
“You and I are going to change the world, Miss Starkov,” he murmured. She let him clasp her hand greedily. “We will win wars and topple empires. Stay by my side and together…”
“...together we will be formidable,” she finished gently. “We’re going to change the world for the better. For Ravka, and for the Grisha. And you may call me Alina.”
She asked him what she should call him, for she would utter no falsities.
“Aleksander. That is my true name.”
She took this quiet moment to tell him about her dreams for the Grisha and weaved together a world where they had the freedom to do as they pleased, with no masters (or kings) ordering them around, but that sort of vision was only possible without war or the conscription. The Darkling asked if she would fight for the Grisha or for Ravka if it came down to a choice and the answer came to her lips at once.
“Is this a trap? Do you ask me that as the Darkling or the loyal General of the Second Army? That’s like asking me to cut out my own heart...but I was born Grisha. I will move to protect our people, always.”
She could see that sparked his interest again, just as she planned it would.
***
They were interrupted that evening by his scowling Heartrender Ivan who brought the Darkling a stack of reports and papers to read. Alina took this as her cue to leave and retired to her own tent which was decorated far too luxuriously to be comfortable. She was used to the scant bleakness of the orphanage and Sonechka’s warm but humble cottage. As a result she felt uneasy around fine velvets and furs, and refused to handle the pretty trinkets lest she break them.
She handed Olya her kefta to wash overnight and tugged on her rubakha. Mal came to see her when she was settled in bed and warned her to be cautious.
“I care about you, Alina. You are like a little sister to me. I see this sainted woman you are meant to be, but do not forget about Keramzin or who you are inside. The Black General is a powerful man and I can see he impresses you. You must try not to lose your head.”
Alina wanted to scoff at that. If anything it was the other way, she reasoned, but she saw the earnestness in Mal’s brown eyes and knew he was only trying to protect her. She promised him she would tread carefully. After he left she realised her rubakha was unbuttoned and a sizeable amount of her chest could be seen. Once she might’ve been embarrassed for Mal to see her in such a state of undress but no longer.
The following day the Darkling suggested they take a sandskiff through the Fold to test out her abilities more thoroughly. He still wasn’t convinced of her strength, despite her boasts. She reminded herself that he was the Black Heretic, that the Shadow Fold was his snarling monster. He knew better than anyone what it would take to bring it to heel. She tried not to let his words scratch at her pride.
So she dressed in her kefta and accompanied him to the docks. They would be accompanied by several Grisha (the Squallers would keep the skiff moving) and some merchants who had business on the other side. She was surprised by the inclusion of the otkazat'sya until she noticed the Darkling’s close watch. He was using them to ensure she made no trouble, lest they be harmed in the crossfire. It was an astute gamble.
As they moved closer to the rippling edge of the Shadow Fold, Alina reached out for Mal’s hand but caught herself just in time. She thought about Sonechka’s scary tales of snarling volcra but she’d also called Alina her knight, her saviour. She believed in her. Alina would not cling to Mal for comfort like a child or crumble before the shadows.
(He and the Darkling stood at her shoulders, just a step behind, flanking her like oprichniki guards)
When it was time she pictured Sonechka’s bright blue eyes and the way she used to call her Kotik. She clapped her hands together and threw them wide, casting a giant net of bright light into the darkness. She pushed the edges of the net further and further until they framed the entire sandskiff like a blazing shield. She could hear monsters flapping their wings and screeching in the darkness, furious at being denied their prey.
Yet one bold volcra flew close to the shield and bared its fangs. Its wild snarl sent shivers down her back and she trembled before she could stop herself.
Enraged, Alina brought a hand down sharply and used The Cut to slice the beast in half. The shield didn’t even flicker. She’d perfected The Cut when she was just fourteen years old…it came to her as effortlessly as picking up her sketching pencils.
A great hush fell across the sandskiff as it creeped forwards.
When they reached the halfway marker, she dared a glance over her shoulder at the Darkling. She recognised the fire in his nearly blackened eyes because it was a twin flame to the one roaring in her chest.
***
She wanted to take a moment alone, but when they disembarked back in Kribirsk there came a great tidal wave of blessings and cheers. It looked like every person in the settlement had come forth to greet her.
Alina smiled and received it all with good cheer. The wellwishers swarmed around her and she accepted their praise with a gentle dignity that radiated her goodness within. They bowed over her hands and touched her hair in reverence. A young mother held up her newborn (named, she said, in her honour) and Alina carefully pressed a kiss to the baby girl’s forehead. It was peculiar for Alina to experience such a huge flood of attention, when she had grown up with very little, but she took it in her stride.
Their happiness resulted in festivities which lasted all day and well into the night. The patrons of the town left their homes to feast and drink elbow to elbow with the First and Second Army, eager to celebrate the Sun Summoner’s first triumph over the Fold.
General Raevsky of the First Army pushed his way forward and kissed her hand. He introduced her to a huddle of important looking people - a senior cartographer, a defense major, some nobles who looked very wealthy indeed. They asked if she would be their guest that evening in the officers tent but Alina declined.
She would much rather sit with the children and enjoy the sights.
They rarely celebrated anything in Keramzin. The only festivities they observed were religious ones which seemed very dull and tedious to a child. She much preferred this kind of celebration. It was merry, spontaneous, and honest. She watched the folk around her dance and feast, while violins played lively reels.
She had long ago surrendered her heavy kefta to Olya, preferring instead a modest burgundy shirt and breeches. A private from the First Army lent her his buttoned military coat when the day gave way to night. She looked like anyone else in her disguise, though her oprichniki remained at a safe distance.
Alina was amusing the children of Kribirsk with a tale or two when a Grisha asked her to dance. She was no dancer so she accepted hesitantly, but this man had kind eyes and took the lead. He smilingly introduced himself as Fedyor and said he hoped to see more of her at the Little Palace, where she truly belonged. He would request to be her personal Heartrender guard should she wish it. A brave lieutenant interrupted them then and compared her smile to the sun. Finally Mal grabbed hold of Alina’s waist and swung her around with steps just as clumsy as her own.
As they laughed and danced, she caught sight of the brooding Darkling by one of the bonfires with a select few Grisha. He’d emerged from his tent at last, clearly reluctant to join in but knowing his presence was expected. He stood away from the merriment and a pretty Squaller with a bold smile filled his cup.
I will make the people like me…and I will make them love us, she decided.
She looked back at Mal before the Darkling noticed her stare. “Mal, do you remember those boys from the orphanage? Boris and Mylo? Do you think they would have teased us still if they were beloved, instead of discarded and unloved?”
He said he didn’t think so, though they were orphans too and never sought to inflict their misery on others.
“But we had each other, didn’t we? The Upyr used to call me naïve and I find myself agreeing with her more and more with each passing day. I think I’m going to try something foolhardy tonight…but my heart tells me it is the right thing to do.”
"Follow your heart, Alina," Mal answered. "But be wary. I will watch your back, like always."
So later when General Raevsky arrived to made a toast to the blessed Sun Summoner, Alina rose quickly to her feet and smiled humbly.
“Thank you for the speech, General Raevsky, and for leaving the officers tent to celebrate with us...but surely you meant to give thanks to our brave Shadow Summoner too? General Kirigan has been fighting for Ravka for years, as well as leading and protecting his Second Army, while I've been notably absent. I will depend on his experience and cleverness to navigate the dark times ahead and bring down the Fold, for my light cannot shine without his shadows. By working together I believe we can help heal the wounds of our dear Ravka and secure a bright blazing future. So…please...let us instead raise a toast to the Shadow Summoner. To General Kirigan!” she exclaimed brightly, holding up her glass.
Mal took up the cheer first and then it echoed around the encampment, though not as enthusiastically as it had for Alina.
But give it time, she thought. The spark is lit.
All eyes turned to the Darkling who was far too clever to let his face reveal anything. He bowed his head to her in thanks but wore a mask of cool indifference.
She turned to General Raevsky who looked rather sour at her declaration. Alina positively beamed and sat back down. Though it was late the children begged to see more of her light and she humoured them by summoning a tiny ball of sunlight. She made it chase them around the tents until they were dizzy with laughter.
***
Alina wrote to Ana Kuya to let her know they’d arrived in Kribirsk safely. She was careful with her wording but it wouldn’t be long before a paper trail linking her to Keramzin and the orphanage was discovered, and then it would be public knowledge.
She told Ana Kuya about the Shadow Fold and how large and frightening it appeared, but she was not so afraid now. She wrote that Mal and Olya were perhaps falling in love (twice now she'd found them locked in some too-familiar embrace). She wrote that she dearly missed playing in the woods and the sound of the babbling brook. She promised she would come back one day.
And that’s all she could write for now.
She sent the letter off with an oprichniki (who she assumed would read it first) and collected her things. It was going to be another long tedious day of introductions.
***
Ever since she was a little girl Alina had always felt more at ease outdoors; scurrying about the woods, hiding in the fields, stretching out beneath the stars.
The stars were different here in Kribirsk. The sky was gloomy and grey this close to the Fold so it was hard to locate the constellations that Mal and Sonechka taught her. It made her feel very homesick, like she was in another world entirely.
She remained outside her tent for a long while before the Darkling found her. By that time the wind had tugged loose long strands of hair from her braid and the tip of her nose was pink.
Alina smiled in greeting and asked if he knew any ancient stories about the stars. Surely at his age he would know even more than Sonechka? After a small pause, he told her of the herdsman and his three daughters, Ana, Stana and Laptița. The Golden Stars. It was a tale of greed and jealousy and like most tales it ended in tragedy. She sighed when he finished.
For the second time The Darkling asked her to accompany him back to the Little Palace, and this time she told him…“Not yet, but one day I will go with you. I want to learn what it means to be Grisha…and I yearn for a family too. I want to be a part of it all.”
She felt the weight of his stare as he searched her face for something, but didn’t seem to find what he was looking for this time.
“You should go inside, Alina. You’re trembling.”
Something gave a twist in her chest when he uttered her given name for the very first time, but still she shook her head. It was stifling inside the tent, she wanted to stay outside some more.
So the Darkling took Alina’s cold hands and led her towards the stables. Moments later they were riding through the gates of Kribirsk side by side, she astride her beloved Solovey and he atop a black horse called Vasska - and the stallion looked just as kingly as his namesake suggested. As soon as they left the encampment, Alina felt her shoulders relax as the stress of the last few days fell away from her in waves. She shouted as much to the Darkling who told her to stay close and follow him.
They rode across the field where they very first met and kept on going. The sky was brighter here and Alina could feel starlight in her hair. She threw her head back and smiled.
***
She didn't know where the Darkling was leading them but after an hour - maybe two - he slowed his horse. They were nearing the edge of a forest. It was not as wild or magical as the woods back home but seeing the winding paths helped her feel less homesick. Alina wondered for the tenth time if the Darkling could read her thoughts and knew that this was the exact right place to bring her.
The Darkling dismounted with practised ease and she tried to mimic his movements but her foot caught in the strap. She would have tumbled to the ground had he not caught her waist in time and she murmured her thanks. He muttered something to their oprichniki guards who dutifully stayed back to allow them some privacy.
“You told me you used to hide in the woods,” he said, glancing through the trees. “But I fear it’s too dark to explore them tonight. I know you can light our way but I’d rather you not use your gifts out in the open just now. Everyone within a mile radius will spot us.”
“Are you admitting the menacing Shadow Summoner is afraid of an attack? Surely no one would dare."
“It’s not my safety I fear for, Alina. I won’t have you kidnapped or taken away from me. Not now, when I’ve finally found you.”
Alina felt her face soften.
“Let’s just walk together then,” she suggested and took hold of Solovey’s reins.
He asked her about her childhood in the forest but she would not answer. Instead she told him about the herbs and plants that preferred the protection of the trees and how they could be used to treat all manner of complaints. The moon was bright and she had no trouble finding her footing. The fields around them seemed to stretch out for miles, but still the Shadow Fold loomed in the distance. The Darkling cleared his throat. He spoke quietly but the world around them was so peaceful she had no trouble hearing him.
“I wanted to offer my gratitude for what you said to General Raevsky yesterday. He’s a weak willed otkazat'sya boar, but a boar nonetheless, and a thorn in my side. Yet you chose to shame him and acknowledge me. I admit...it left me startled. I am unused to being spoken of in such regard, and so publicly. You show a level of daring and courage that is unexpected at your age. It's impressive."
“You do not need to thank me, and I didn’t do it to impress anyone. It’s only right that you’re honoured too. You’ve fought hard for Ravka and for the Second Army…and where was I?” she scoffed. “A child stuck in the middle of nowhere. Hidden for far too long...”
“You can hardly blame yourself for being born too late. If anyone deserves your condemnation let it be our accursed Saints.”
Alina saw the curl of his lip, his slight frown. She wondered exactly how long he’d waited for her. She asked him and felt a strange fluttering in her chest as she waited for his reply. She hoped he would be honest at last. It felt important that he be the one to admit who he really was.
“Centuries. I’ve been alive for a very long time, Alina. I’ve lived countless lives and answered to many names. Some I am proud of but others…” the Darkling eyed her very closely and sighed. “Tell me something...what would the Sun Summoner say if she were to learn I was the villian who summoned the Shadow Fold? That I created it with the best intentions, but didn’t stop to consider what it would become? Would she turn away from me…would she name me monster?”
Alina caught hold of his wrist to stop him walking ahead.
“I think it matters what you do next. If you own your mistakes, or sink further into your ambition. But…I cannot stand by your side if you choose the latter, or if you unleash the Shadow Fold upon the world. I will not help you.”
The Darkling threaded his fingers through hers. She saw that his stormy eyes were shining with emotion.
Alina gazed up at him sadly, tears springing to her own eyes. She suddenly felt a lot older than her nineteen years. “It's true then. The both of us have eternal life?”
"I believe so. You are my natural balance, so it makes sense you share this with me...unless you choose not to use your summoning, of course." He saw her uncertainty and explained, "...If you refuse to summon then you will age like everyone else. That's the sacrifice for us Grisha."
"But my power is mine,” she said heatedly. “It sustains me. Never…I could never give it up, not even if it means…the chance to fall in love. To find a husband, a family, children...”
To age with dignity and one day rest forever more. She was a woman grown now and understood the weight of what eternity meant.
She flushed when she felt hot tears roll down her cheeks but the Darkling brushed them away with his thumb. He knew what she was thinking, had struggled with the same grief a long time ago. She wondered when he'd made peace with with it…if he ever had. They stared at one another in silence and she at last noticed how close they were. It would be all too easy to lean forwards and rest her hands against the softness of his kefta. The Darkling parted his lips to tell her something (to swear she would never be alone like he was, that he would do anything in his power to ensure her happiness) but at the very last second turned his head away.
Alina suddenly felt cold all over. She stroked Solovey’s coarse hair and pressed her face against his neck. She was about to suggest they ride back to Kribirsk…
…when she caught a flash of steel over his shoulder.
“Drüskelle!” she shouted and pushed the Darkling aside with all her might. Solovey and Vasska reeled back at her cry.
There were four huge Fjerdan warriors running towards them, with more emerging from the woods as an ambush. They were wearing thick leather armour and were as tall as frost giants. They were armed to the teeth with heavy clubs and axes. Alina saw one holding a large woven net, clearly hoping to capture one of them alive to take back to Fjerda. It didn’t take a scholar to guess who their intended target was.
Alina and the Darkling had been careless to let their guard down, distracted by one another’s suffering, but these Drüskelle were just as foolish. They were betting that the Darkling was the only threat and the Sun Summoner would come easy. Or perhaps they were simply desperate, worried that the two summoners were aligned at last.
A large man came hurdling towards her, brandishing his fearsome axe.
She used The Cut to slice his arm clear off.
She heard them shout something in Fjerdan. She was about to summon The Cut again when the pommel of a club slammed into the back of her head. She cursed at the ringing pain, and was reminded of the Upyr when she'd pulled a similar stunt. She was too distracted to summon her shield and the Drüskelle kicked her to the ground before straddling her back. He was trying to tie her wrists to her ankles to prevent her summoning. Alina snarled and tried to wriggle free. Tried to free her hands so she could scratch his eyes out, or rip out his tongue. She would Cut him into pieces before letting him drag her over the border to burn alive.
He spat at her and the spittle ran down her cheek... "witch."
But then shadows rose up all around them and she knew the Darkling and the oprichniki guards had entered the fray. She heard the moans and screams of the Fjerdan, but to his credit the fighter holding her down didn't flee. Out of the corner of her eye Alina saw one of the Darkling's shadows claw its way down a man's throat and choke him. His shadows worked like a whip, lashing out at Drüskelle's limbs and snapping them.
Alina finally managed to slip a hand loose from her binds. Her fingers closed round the sword hilt tucked carefully against her belt and she nearly laughed in relief.
She summoned a blazing white blade and struck up as hard as she could into the Drüskelle's ribs. At once his grip loosened and she rolled over, slamming the blade into his chest again and again. His screams of pain were like music to her ears and her power sang back, yearning for more. Finally she pressed a ball of pure sunlight against his brow, blinding him instantly.
Alina kicked his lifeless body aside and hurried to her feet. They’d brought along monstrous wolves too and one snapped its teeth at her hem. She swung her golden sword and sliced the wolf to ribbons. A Drüskelle witnessed her fiery rage and tried to run but she sent The Cut chasing after him. Its razor-sharp blade caught him right around the middle and he fell to the ground with a thud (or thuds).
By this point her glorious white kefa was splattered crimson.
It was quiet now. She turned back and saw there was only one Drüskelle left. He lay twitching on the ground with the Darkling’s boot hard against his neck.
He was questioning him in Fjerdan, but the fighter just glared back. He was young...too young to die so far away from his home and family. Alina moved to vouch for him, to ask the Darkling to show leniency, when she beheld the bodies and limbs that decorated the grass. Most were Fjerdan fighters... but five belonged to their brave oprichniki guards. Alina's ears began to ring and she wanted to breathe fire.
She stood at the Darkling's side and pressed the edge of her burning sword to the man’s cheek like a brand. He howled and she demanded, “...answer him svolach, or I'll burn every last inch of you and boil your blood like a furnace."
The Darkling translated her threat with a smirk and the man began to chatter away, his voice becoming higher and higher as he revealed precious Fjerdan secrets.
A remaining guard went to gather the horses. Alina turned away and again observed the horror around them. She’d killed three men and a wolf, but the Darkling appeared to have slaughtered at least three times that number in the exact same time. Her hands were shaking while he looked to be carved from stone. She looked at all the fallen warriors and her heart twisted painfully in her chest. She felt a damning sense of dread enveloping her - was this to be her life now? Was she to peer around corners expecting an ambush? Was she so feared and hated that people wanted her death? She didn't regret killing those Drüskelle to defend herself...but it was the first time she'd used her gifts to harm…to kill...to murder. Behind her, she heard the last Drüskelle choke and at last fall silent.
She flinched when the Darkling clasped her shoulder. “Alina?”
She held his stare and something dark and wicked twisted between them. She'd heard tales of bloodlust and the aftershocks of a fight. She could feel every drop of blood in her body swell to the surface, yearning for...something. The Darkling's eyes turned almost black as he shifted his gaze to the buckles of her soaked kefta, to the dip of her waist, to her swollen trembling lips. She saw a shiver ripple down his back. The world around them seemed to balance on a pin and in this moment they were alone. His grip on her shoulder tightened painfully and he looked like he wanted to throw her to the ground and…
The oprichniki came over with Solovey and Vasska and interrupted her thoughts. The spell between them was broken.
"Come, we should hurry back. You need a healer..." the Darkling muttered instead. Alina gently touched the back of her head and felt blood, but it was just a surface wound. "That was far too close for comfort. It was reckless of me to bring you out so far."
Alina heard him give orders to the guards but was still reeling from what happened. She wanted to summon her light and let the warmth soothe the screaming in her head, but knew it was too dangerous. The Darkling pulled himself up onto Vasska's back and yelled at her to get in the saddle. It suddenly vexed her, that he felt he could order her around too, or maybe she was simply exhausted and scared and overwhelmed. She wished she could master her emotions as skillfully as him.
"Don't shout at me," Alina snapped, but let a guard boost her onto Solovey’s back all the same. She wound his reins around her fist tightly. “I can take care of myself. I don't need protection like a babe...like..." Like someone inexperienced, someone naïve. The wound on her head served as a reminder that she still had a lot to learn and it infuriated her.
But before she could urge her horse forwards, the Darkling blocked her path.
"Pretty piece of summoning, the blade. The monks wrote about such a technique in the old scrolls but I never thought to witness it with my own two eyes. How could you know how to summon something so ancient? I thought it was a myth, lost to time."
"Just one of my many talents," Alina replied sharply. "Tread carefully...or I will give you a closer look."
The Darkling’s eyes flashed. There was that wicked (tremendous) fire again. "Did you understand what they said? The Drüskelle called you a víla, a herald of light and death. A compliment, to be sure."
"I’m glad, for I want them to think twice about challenging me again. They may have caught me unaware tonight, but I will crush the Ice Court before I let them tie me…us… to a stake to burn. Let news of this reach the far corners of the map. Let them fear me."
The Darkling reached out and she let him trace his fingertips along the curve of her jaw. She wanted very much to lean into his touch. He wasn’t looking at her like she was some weak naïve whelp, and instead…
“My blessed víla. My Alina. You would suit a crown of gold.”
***
