chapter four.
The Fall of a Grisha
LESS THAN A WEEK LATER, I SPOTTED THE first ice floes. We were far north, where the sea darkened and ice bloomed from its depths in perilous spikes. Though it was early summer, the wind bit into our skins. In the morning, the ropes were hard with frost.
I spent hours pacing my cabin and staring out at the endless sea. Each morning, I was brought above deck, where I was given a chance to stretch my legs and see Alina and Mal from afar. They too were separated, but were much closer than I was.
Always, the Darkling stood by the railing, scanning the horizon, searching for something. Sturmhond and his crew kept their distance. On the seventh day, we passed between two slate stones islands that I recognized from mapmaker map drawings: Jelka and Vilki, the Fork and Knife.
We had entered the Bone Road, the long stretch of black water where countless ships had wrecked on the nameless islands that appeared and disappeared in its mists. On maps, it was marked by sailors' skulls, wide-mouthed monsters, mermaids with ice-white hair, and the deep black eyes of seals.
Only the most experienced Fjerdan hunters came here, seeking skins and furs, chancing death to claim rich prizes. But what prize did we seek? Sturmhond ordered the sails trimmed, and our pace slowed as we drifted through the mist. An uneasy silence blanketed the ship. I studied the whaler's longboats, the racks of harpoons tipped in Grisha steel.
It wasn't hard to guess what they were for. The Darkling was after some kind of amplifier. I surveyed the ranks of Grisha and wondered who might be singled out for another of the Darkling's "gifts." But a terrible suspicion had taken root inside me.
It's madness, I told myself. He wouldn't dare attempt it. The thought brought me little comfort. He always dared.
❂♕
The next day, the Darkling ordered me brought to him. "Who's it for?" I asked as Ivan deposited me by the starboard rail. The Darkling just stared out into the waves. I considered shoving him over the railing. Sure, he was hundreds of years old, but could he swim?
"Tell me you're not contemplating what I think you are," he said. "Tell me the amplifier is for some other stupid, gullible girl," I said. "Someone less stubborn than you and Alina are? Less selfish? Less hungry for the life of a mouse? Believe me," he said, "I wish I could."
I felt sick. "A Grisha can only have one amplifier," I said. "Morozova's amplifiers are different." I gaped at him. "You better not be suggesting what it is I think you are." The Darkling let out a scoff, "Once upon a time I told you I was going to get you the sea whip, Freya." The Darkling said, "Am I a liar now?"
My stomach twisted, "That was when I was still a Sun Summoner." I managed. The Darkling looked over his shoulder, "I couldn't use it now.." I said before shaking my head, "No," I said. "I don't want this."
"I don't want this." the Darkling mocked. "I want your tracker friend to die slowly with my knife in his heart. I want to let the sea swallow you and Alina whole. But our fates are intertwined now, Freya, and there's nothing either of us can do about it." The Darkling said.
"You're mad." I hissed. "I know it pleases you and Alina to think so," he said. "But the amplifiers must be brought together. If we have any hope of controlling the fold."
"You can't control the fold. And as I said I can't help do shit anymore because you have my power." My knuckles tightened at the sides.
"Careful, Freya," he said with a slight smile. "I've had the same thought about you." He gestured to Ivan, who was waiting a respectful distance away. "Bring me Alina and the boy."
My heart leaped in my throat. "Wait," I said. "You told me you wouldn't hurt them." He ignored me. Like a fool, I looked around. As if anyone on this saint-forsaken ship would hear my appeal. Sturmhond stood by the wheel, watching us, his face impassive.
I snatched at the Darkling's sleeve. "We had a deal. I haven't done anything. You said—" The Darkling looked at me with cool eyes, and the words died on my lips. A moment later, Ivan appeared with Alina and Mal in tow and steered them over to the rail.
The two stood before us, squinting in the sunlight, hands bound. It was the closest we'd been in weeks. Alina looked paler and she had bags under her eyes, it was obvious she hadn't been sleeping. And Mal was no better, but at least he looked like he could withstand.
I saw the questions in their wary expressions, but I had no answer. "Alright tracker," the Darkling said. "Track."
Mal glanced at me and then the Darkling, "Track what? We're in the middle of the ocean."
"Alina once told me you could make rabbits out of rocks. I questioned the crew of the Verrhader myself, and they claim that you're just as capable at sea. They seemed to think you could make some lucky captain very rich with your expertise." Mal frowned, "You want me to hunt whales?"
"No," said the Darkling, "I want you to hunt the sea whip." Alina stared up at the Darkling with panic written on her face. Mal laughed, "You're looking for a dragon?"
"The ice dragon," said the Darkling. "Rusalye."
"What for?" Mal asked warily. Alina and I exchanged glances from across one another, "are you okay?" I mouthed. Alina beamed silently and nodded, "are you okay?" she asked back.
"I once promised Freya I'd find her the sea whip," said the Darkling. Alina's eyes narrowed, she didn't believe he was getting it for me, but neither did I.
Mal looked back to me, "If you think getting this amplifier will get them to trust you again, you must be insane." The Darkling laughed, "I think they're feelings about me were established when they left the Little Palace."
Mal peered out at the waves. "I wouldn't know where to start." The Darkling looked at Alina, "For her sake, I hope that's not true." the Darkling pulled a slender knife from the folds of his kefta. "Because every day we don't find the sea whip, I'll peel away a piece of her skin. Slowly. Then Ivan will heal her, and the next day, we'll do it all over again."
I watched as Alina's face morphed into fear. I shook my head urgently and grabbed the Darkling's forearm, "You said you wouldn't hurt them!" I hissed.
The Darkling let out a sigh and yanked his arm away and ignored me completely. "You won't hurt her," Mal said, but I could hear the fear in his voice. "I don't want to hurt her," said the Darkling. "I want you to do as I ask."
"It took me months to find the stag," Mal said desperately. "I still don't know how we did it." Sturmhond stepped forward. I'd been so focused on Alina, Mal, and the Darkling, I'd nearly forgotten him. "I won't have a girl tortured on my ship," he said.
The Darkling turned his cold gaze on the privateer. "You work for me, Sturmhond. You'll do your job or getting paid will be the least of your worries." An ugly ripple of disquiet passed over the ship. Sturmhond's crew were sizing up the Grisha, and their expressions were not friendly.
Genya had a hand pressed over her mouth, but she did not say a word. "Give the tracker some time," Sturmhond said quietly. "A week. At least a few days."
The Darkling slid his fingers up Alina's arm, pushing back her sleeve to reveal bare flesh. "Shall I start with her arm?" he asked. He dropped the sleeve, then brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "Or with her face?" He nodded to Ivan. "Hold her."
Ivan appeared behind me, holding me back as the Darkling gripped Alina's face and put the blade on her cheek. She cringed, but the Darkling's grip was powerful.
I tried to break free of Ivan's hold, but the more I struggled the tighter he gripped me. "Please don't!" I said desperately, "We didn't do anything!"
I sucked in a breath when the Darkling ignored me but just as he was about to push the blade into her skin Mal shouted, "Stop!" The Darkling waited. "I can... I can do it."
"Mal, no," Alina said. Mal swallowed and said, "Tack southwest. Back the way we came." I stilled. Had he seen something? Or was he just trying to keep her from getting hurt? The Darkling cocked his head to one side and studied him. "I think you know better than to play games with me, tracker."
Mal gave a sharp nod. "I can do it. I can find it. Just.... just give me time." The Darkling sheathed his knife. I exhaled slowly and tried to suppress a shiver. "You have a week," he said, turning away and disappearing into the hatch.
"Bring her," he called to Ivan. "Alina—" I began as Ivan grasped my arm again. Alina lifted her bound hands, reaching for me. Her fingers grazed mine briefly, then Ivan was hauling me back towards the hatch.
My mind was racing as we descended into the dank belly of the ship. I stumbled along behind Ivan, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. The Darkling had said that he wouldn't harm Alina as long as Mal did what he was told. I'd assumed he just meant to use him to keep her and me in line, but now it was clear there was more to it than that.
Did Mal really think he could find the sea whip, or was he stalling for time? I wasn't sure what I wanted to be true. I didn't savor the idea of watching my friend being tortured, but what if we did find the ice dragon? What would that mean for me?
Ivan pulled me into a spacious cabin that looked like the captain's quarters. Sturmhond must have been squeezed in with the rest of his crew. A bed was pushed into one corner, and the deeply curved aft wall was studded with a row of thick-paned windows. They shed watery light on a desk behind which the Darkling seated himself.
Ivan bowed and darted from the room, closing the door behind him. "He can't wait to get away from you," I said, hovering by the door. "He's afraid of what you've become. They all are."
"Do you fear me, Freya?" He asked. "That's what you want, isn't it?" The Darkling shrugged. "Fear is a powerful ally," he said. "And loyal."
He was watching me in that cold, assessing way that always made me feel as if he were reading me like words on a page, his fingers moving over the text, gleaming some secret knowledge that I could only guess at. I tried not to fidget, but the irons at my wrist chafed.
"I'd like to free you," he said quietly. "Free me, flay me. So many options." I sighed.
"It was a threat, Freya. It accomplished what it needed to." the Darkling said. "So if I were in Alina's situation, would you cut me?"
"Would you have let me?" He asked. I furrowed my brows, "you really have lost your mind." I scowled. He smiled in the dim light, "How did you survive?" He raised his hand over the sharp line of his jaw. "It seems the Volcra did not care for the taste of my flesh," he said, almost idly.
"Have you ever noticed that they do not feed on each other?" I shuddered. They were his creations, just like the thing that had been buried, its claws into Alina's shoulder. "Like calls to Like."
"It's not an experience I'd care to repeat. I've had my fill of the Volcra's mercy. And yours." I crossed the room, coming to stand before the desk. "Then why give me an amplifier?" I asked desperately, grasping for an argument that would somehow make him see sense.
"In case you've forgotten, Alina tried to kill you." I hissed, "And she failed at that."
"Here's to second chances. Why make me stronger when I don't have the ability to summon light anymore?" Again, he shrugged. "Without Morozova's amplifiers. Ravka is lost. You were meant to have the sea whip, just as I was meant to rule. It can be no other way."
"How convenient of you," I said grimly. He leaned back and folded his arms. "You have been anything but convenient, Freya."
"You can't combine amplifiers if that's what you are trying to do— all books say the same thing—" the Darkling cut me off, "Not all the books."
I wanted to scream in frustration. "Baghra warned us. She said you were arrogant, blinded by ambition." I spat. "Did she now?" His voice was ice. "And what other treason did she whisper in your ear?"
"That she loved you," I said angrily. "That she believed you could be redeemed." He looked away then, but not before I saw the flash of pain on his face. What had he done to her? And what had it cost him?
"Redemption," he murmured. "Salvation. Penance. My mother's quaint ideas. Perhaps I should have paid closer attention." He reached into the desk and drew out a slender red volume. As he held it up, light glinted off the gold lettering on its cover: Istorii Sankt'ya.
"Do you know what this is?" I frowned. The Lives of the Saints. A dim memory came back to me. The Apparat had given me a copy months ago at the Little Palace. I'd thrown it into the drawer of my dressing table and never spared it another thought.
"It's a children's book," I said. "Have you read it?" I shook my head, "No," I admitted, suddenly wishing I had. The Darkling was watching me too closely. What could be so important about an old collection of religious drawings?
"Superstition," he said glancing down at the cover. "Peasant Propaganda. Or so I thought. Morozova was a strange man. He was a bit like you and Alina, drawn to the ordinary and the weak."
"Genya isn't weak," I said. "Your right, she isn't weak, I grant you, and Grisha. But she can never be your equal."
"She's my equal and more," I spat. The Darkling shook his head. If I hadn't known better, I might have mistaken the look on his face for pity. "You think you've found a family with her. You think you've found a future. But you will grow more powerful than any Tidemaker, and she will grow old. She will live her short life, and you will watch her die."
"Shut up," I spat. He smiled. "Go on, stamp your foot, fight your true nature. All the while, your country suffers."
"Because of you!" I shouted. "Because I put my trust into two girls who cannot stand the thoughts of their own potential." He rose and rounded the desk. Despite my anger, I took a step back, banging into the chair behind me.
"I know what you feel when you are with her," he said. "I doubt that." He gave a dismissive wave. "No, not the absurd pining you've yet to outgrow. I know the truth in your heart. The loneliness. The growing knowledge of your own differences." He leaned in closer. "The ache of it."
I tried to hide the shock of recognition that went through me. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, but the words sounded false to my ears. "It will never fade, Freya. It will only grow worse, no matter how many bandages you cover over your hand, or what lies you tell, no matter how far or fast you run."
I tried to turn away, but he reached out and took hold of my chin, forcing me to look at him. He was so close I could feel his breath. "There is no one like the three of us, Freya," he whispered. "And there never will be."
I lurched away from him, knocking the chair over, nearly losing my balance. I pounded on the door with my iron-bound fists, calling out to Ivan as the Darkling looked on. He didn't come until the Darkling gave the order.
Dimly, I registered Ivan's hand on my back, the stench of the corridor, a sailor letting us pass, then the quiet of my narrow cabin, the door locked behind me, the bunk, the scratch of rough fabric as I pressed my face into the covers, trembling, trying to drive the Darkling's words from my head. The pain of otherness that would never ease. Each fear sank into me, barbed talons burrowing deep into my heart.
I knew he was a practiced liar. He could fake any emotion, and play on any human falling. But I couldn't deny that I'd felt it in Novyi Zem or the truth of what the Darkling had shown me: my own sadness, my own longing, reflected back in his bleak eyes.
❂♕
The mood had changed aboard the whaler. The crew had grown restless and watchful, the slight to their captain still fresh in their mind. The Grisha muttered amongst themselves, their nerves worn thin by our slow progress through the waters of the Bone Road.
Each day, the Darkling had me brought above deck to stand beside him and Alina at the pow. Mal was kept guarded at the other end of the ship and the guards too had to keep a watchful eye on Genya.
Sometimes I'd see her glance at me, before looking away. At dusk, when another day came and gone, the Darkling would parade me across the deck and down through the hatch directly in front of her. We weren't permitted to speak to each other out in the open, I tried to hold her gaze, to tell her through my eyes that I was alright, but I could see her fury and desperation growing when the Darkling touched me, and I was powerless to reassure her.
Once, when I stumbled by the hatch, the Darkling caught me up against himself. He might have let me go, but he lingered, and before I could pull away, he let his hand graze the small of my back.
Genya's fists clenched at her sides, but she did everything in herself to keep composed. I yanked away from him and whispered to Genya softly, "I'm fine."
Her gaze held mine as the Darkling shoved me belowdecks, but not before I heard his parting words to Genya— "I'll be certain you hear it when I make her scream."
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『Authors note』
I hope you enjoy! No chapter tomorrow I'll be busy! ;(