The True Saint

Violence Begets Violence

"What did you just say?" Tamar asks in disbelief.

I sigh. "I think Mal was the third amplifier," I repeat in a calmer disposition.

Toyla says, "Alina, I don't know much about this stuff, but you have said before that all of Morozova's journals describe the Firebird as being the last amplifier. Are you saying that he was wrong?"

"I think Ilya Morozova intended for the Firebird to be the final amplifier, however, somehow he did not complete the circle in the way he hoped to. I am not sure how or why Mal ended up as an amplifier, but there is no denying it any longer. He was a good tracker. Too good. I realize now that he was connected to all living things. Like calls to like, as the Darkling always says. Back at the Little Palace, he grabbed my hands. There was a jolt of something unknown, although we ignored it. But... I felt his power. My collar and sea whip buzzed with energy and I had seen a door open. An opportunity of never-ending power."

"And you feared it," Tamar says, starting to understand. "Because you would have had to kill Mal if you wanted to gain his power."

I nod sadly. I think about the sickening greed that I felt in that moment. For a second, just a fragment of a notion, I thought of what it would be like to claim that power, but it was enough to make me hate myself; enough to make me fear myself. I do not share this with my friends, however. They might think that I am just as much of a monster as the Darkling and truthfully, I might be.

        "But wait," Zoya interrupts. "I was told that the Darkling killed Mal. I am assuming that he did not get the power of another one of Morozova's amplifiers or we would all be dead right now."

        "Your right. He didn't get Mal's power. I believe that Morozova's amplifiers have the ability to choose who their power belongs to. The Stag chose me. I had dreams of it from the moment that I was able to dream. Just like the dreams that I have had about Mal." I look at my friends confidently and say, "I am sure of this."

        "You better be, Starkov," Zoya replies. "Or we will all be as good as Volcra food."

***

        The waves are relentless as they crash into the sides of the boat, causing a constant swaying motion on deck. Genya is leaning over the side. Her face is visibly green and her mouth is hanging open.

        I approach her and rub her back. "Is there anything I can get you?"

        "Land," Genya replies hoarsely. "You can get me land."

        "Unfortunately, we are as far from land as we can get," I respond. And with that, Genya starts to vomit over the side. I run to get her a washcloth. When I open the door to my room, it takes everything I have to hold back a scream. The Darkling is leaning against the wall with his arms folded against his chest. I slowly close the door behind me.

        We stare at each other until the Darkling breaks the silence. "What are you doing, Alina."

        "Go away," I say as I turn and go to kneel by the wash bucket to wet a cloth for Genya.

        "You called me."

        "No, I didn't," I refute.

        "You might not have pulled on the tether, but you let me through, nevertheless." Did I subconsciously let him through the connection, or is this another one of his twisted mind games?

        I ring out the towel, gripping it with white knuckles. "What do you want?"

        He leans off of the wall and strolls closer to me. "What do I want?" the Darkling repeats. "I want you to come back to the palace. You belong here. You belong with me."