chapter twenty-three.
The Fall of a Grisha
ANOTHER PACK OF NICHEVO'YA DESCENDED FROM the widows, clawing their way towards Nikolai and his mother. I shared a glance with Alina and nodded, arms raising and then we struck out with Water and Sunlight, hurtling towards the Nichevo'ya in arcs, cutting through one monster after another, barely missing one of the generals who crouched cowering on the floor.
"To me!" Nikolai shouted, herding his mother and father towards the door.
We followed with the guards, backing our way into the hall, and ran. The Grand Palace had erupted into chaos. Panicked servants and footmen crowded the corridors, some scrambling for the entrance, others barricading themselves into rooms.
I heard wailing, the sound of breaking glass. A boom sounded from somewhere outside. Let it be the Fabrikators, I thought desperately.
Mal, Alina, and I burst from the palace and careened down the marble steps. A screech of twisting metal rent the air. I looked down the white gravel path in time to see the golden gates of the Grand Palace blown off their hinges by a wall of Etheralki wind. The Darkling's Grisha streamed onto the grounds in their brightly colored kefta.
We pelted down the path toward the Little Palace. Nikolai and the royal guards trailed behind us, slowed by his frail father. At the entrance to the wooded tunnel, the King bent double, wheezing badly as the Queen wept and held tight to his arm.
"I have to get them to the Kingfisher," said Nikolai.
"Take the long way around," Alina said. "The Darkling will be headed to the Little Palace first. He'll be coming for me and Freya."
"Alina, if he captures you two—"
"Go," I said. "Save them, save Baghra. We won't leave the Grisha."
"We'll get them out and come back. I promise."
"On your words as a cutthroat and a pirate."
Nikolai stepped forward and whispered. "It's Privateer."
Another explosion rocked the grounds.
"Let's go!" shouted Mal.
I looked back to Nikolai whose face had paled white, I stepped closer to him and whispered. "I'm not going anywhere, yet. Okay?"
Nikolai nodded stiffly.
I turned and sprinted into the tunnel, I glanced back and saw Nikolai's silhouette against the purple twilight. I'd lied to him, and he knew it, and I was never going to see him again.
❂♕
The coin in my hand burned and throbbed, driving me faster as we raced along the path. My mind was reeling— if they had a chance to seal themselves in the main hall, if they had time to man the guns on the roof, if Alina could just reach the dishes. All our plans, undone by Vasily's arrogance.
We burst into the open, and my slippered feet sent gravel flying as I skidded to a halt. I don't know if it was momentum or the sight before me that drove me to my knees.
The Little Palace was wreathed in seething shadows. They clicked and whirred as they skittered over the walls and swooped down on the roof. There were bodies lying on the steps, bodies crumpled on the ground. The front doors were wide open.
The path in front of the steps was littered with shards of broken hulk of one of David's dishes, a girl's body crushed beneath it, her goggles askew. Paja. Two Nichevo'ya crouched before the dishes, gazing at their broken reflections.
I released a howl of pure rage and sent a fiery swath of water that sliced through their bodies with a poof of glistening sunlight as they exploded. Fragments of my sun-summoning power sizzling in their bodies as they burst into the raw air.
I heard the rattle of gunfire from up on the roof. Someone was still alive. Someone was still fighting. And there was one dish left. It wasn't much, but it was all we had.
"This way," said Mal.
We tore across the lawn and in through the door that led to the Darkling's chambers. At the base of the stairs, a Nichevo'ya came shrieking at us from the doorway, knocking me off my feet. Mal slashed at it with his saber. It wavered, then re-formed.
"Get back!" Alina yelled.
Mal ducked, and Alina sent the Cut slicing through the shadow soldier. Alina came up to me and pulled me to my feet and started for the stairs, my heart was pounding, Mal close on our heels. The air was thick with the smell of blood and the bone-shaking clatter of gunfire.
As we emerged onto the roof, I heard someone shouting. "Away!"
We just had time to duck before the grenatki exploded high above us, searing our eyelids with light and leaving our ears ringing. Corporalki manned Nikolai's guns, sending torrents of bullets into the mass of shadows as Fabrikators fed them ammunition. The remaining dish was surrounded by armed Grisha, struggling to keep the Nichevo'ya at bay.
David was there, clinging awkwardly to a rifle and trying to hold his ground. Alina stepped forward and threw up her hands and in a blazing whip crack that split the sky overhead and brought us a few precious seconds.
"David!"
David gave two hard blasts on the whistle around his neck. Nadia dropped her goggles, and the Durast manning the dish moved into position. Alina didn't wait— she lifted her hands and sent light streaming at the dish. The whistle blew. The dish tilted. A single pure beam of light blasted from the mirrored surface. Even without the second dish, it skewered the sky, slashing through the Nichevo'ya as they burned away to nothing.
The beam swept the air in a gleaming arc, dissolving black bodies before it, thinning the horde until we could see the deep Belyanoch twilight. A cheer went up from the Grisha at the first sight of stars, and a thin sliver of hope pierced my terror.
Then Nichevo'ya broke through. It dodged the beam and hurled itself at the dish, rocking it on its moorings. Mal was on the creature in an instant, slashing and cutting. A group of Grisha tried to seize its muscled legs, but the thing shifted and skittered away from them. Then the Nichevo'ya were descending from all sides. I saw one slip past the beam and dive straight into the back of the dish. The mirror rocked forward. The light faltered, then winked out.
"Nadia!" I screamed.
She and the Durast leapt from the dish just in time. It toppled on its side in a tremendous crash of breaking glass as the Nichevo'ya renewed their attack.
I threw out arcs of water, crashing into the Nichevo'ya and they dissolved into thin air.
"Get to the hall!" I cried. "Seal the doors!"
The Grisha ran, but they were not fast enough. I heard a shout and saw the brief flash of Fedyor's face as he was lifted from his feet and tossed from the roof. Alina laid down a bright shower of cover, but the Nichevo'ya just kept coming. If only we'd had both dishes. If only we'd had a little more time.
Mal was beside us again, rifle in hand. "It's no good," he said. "We have to get out of here."
I nodded, and we backed toward the stairs as the sky grew dense with writhing shapes. My foot connected with something soft behind me, and I stumbled.
Sergei was hurdled against the dome. He held Marie in his arms. She'd been torn open from neck to navel.
"There's no one left," he sobbed, tears running down his cheeks. "There's no one left."
He rocked back and forth, holding Marie tighter. I couldn't bear to look at her. Silly, giggling Marie with her lovely brown curls.
Another someone important to me, gone. Even if I hadn't known her that well.
The Nichevo'ya were skittered over the roof, rushing toward us in a black tide.
"Mal, get him up!" Alina shouted.
She slashed out at the throng of shadows rushing towards us.
Mal grabbed Sergei and pulled him away from Marie. He flailed and struggled, but we got him inside and banged the door shut behind us. We half-carried, half-shoved him down the stairs. On the second flight, we heard the roof door blow open above us. I threw a slicing cut of water high, hoping to hit something other than the staircase, and we tumbled down the final flight.
We threw ourselves into the main hall, and the doors crashed closed behind us as the Grisha rammed the lock into place. There was a loud thud and then another as the Nichevo'ya tried to break through the door.
"Alina! Freya!" Mal shouted.
We turned and saw that the other doors were sealed, but there were still Nichevo'ya inside. Zoya and Nadia's brothers were backed against a wall, using Squaller winds to heave tables and chairs and broken bits of furniture at an oncoming pack of shadow soldiers.
Alina raised and I raised our hands, and water and light swept the room in sizzling, churning, stark shapes of a sword. The cuts sliced the air, cutting through the Nichevo'ya. Zoya dropped her hands, and a samovar fell with a loud clang.
At every door, we heard thumping and scraping. The Nichevo'ya were clawing at the wood, trying to get in, searching for a crack or gap to seep through. The buzzing and clicking seemed to come from all sides. But the Fabrikators had done their work well. The seals would hold, at least for a little while. Then I looked around the room. The hall was bathed in blood. The walls were smeared with it, the stone floor was wet with it. There were bodies everywhere, little heaps of purple, red, and blue.
"Are there any others?" Alina asked. I could hear the tremor in her voice.
Zoya gave a single, dazed shake of her head. A spatter of blood covered one of her cheeks.
"We were at dinner," she said. "We heard the bells. We didn't have time to seal the doors. They were just... everywhere."
Sergei was sobbing quietly. David looked pale, but calm. Nadia had made it down to the hall. She had her arms around Adrik, and he still had that stubborn tilt to his chin, though he was shaking. There were three Inferni and two more Corporalki— one healer and one Heartrender. They were all that remained of the Second Army.
"Did anyone see Tolya and Tamar?" I asked.
But no one had. They might be dead. Or maybe they'd played some part in this disaster. Tamar had disappeared from the dining room. Fall all I knew, they'd been working with the Darkling all along.
"Nikolai might not have left yet," Mal said. "We could try to make it to the Kingfisher."
I shook my head. If Nikolai wasn't gone, then he and the rest of his family were dead, and possibly Baghra too. I had a sudden image of Nikolai's body floating face down in the lake beside the splintered pieces of the Kingfisher.
No. I would not think that way. I remembered what I'd thought of Nikolai the first time I'd met him. I had to believe the clever fox would escape this trap, too.
"The Darkling concentrated his forces here," I said. "We can make a run for the upper town and try to fight our way out from here."
"We'll never make it," said Sergei hopelessly. "There are too many of them."
It was true. We'd known it might come to this, but we'd assumed we'd have greater numbers, and the hope of reinforcements from Poliznaya. From somewhere in the distance, we heard a rolling crack of thunder.
"He's coming," moaned one of the Inferni. "Oh, Saints, he's coming."
"He'll kill us all," whispered Sergei.
"If we're lucky," replied Zoya.
It wasn't the most helpful thing to say, but she was right. I'd seen the truth of how the Darkling dealt with traitors in the shadowy depths of his own mother's eyes, and I suspected Zoya and the others would be treated far more harshly.
Zoya tried to wipe the blood from her face, but only succeeded in leaving a smear across her cheek. "I'd say we try to get the upper town. I'd rather take my chances with the monsters outside than sit here waiting for the Darkling."
"The odds aren't good," I warned, hating that I had no hope to offer. "And Alina and I aren't strong enough to fight them all off."
"At least with the Nichevo'ya it will be relatively quick," David said. "I say we go down fighting."
We all turned to look at him. He seemed a little surprised himself. Then he shrugged.
He met my eyes and said, "We can do what we can."
I looked around the circle. And then my eyes met Alina's, and she nodded.
"David, do you have any grenatki left?"
He pulled two iron cylinders from his kefta. "These are the last."
"Use one, keep the others in reserve. I'll give the signal. When I open the doors, run for the palace gates."
"I'm staying with you two."
Alina opened her mouth to argue, but one look told her there would be no point.
Another clap of thunder split the air.
The Grisha plucked rifles from the arms of the dead and gathered around Alina and me at the door.
"All right," Alina mumbled.
I turned and laid my hand on the carved handle. Through my palms, I felt the thump of Nichevo'ya bodies heaved themselves against the wood. The coin in my hand gave a searing throb.
I nodded to Zoya. The locks snicked back.
I threw the door open and shouted, "Now!"
David lobbed the flash bomb into the twilight as Zoya swooped her arms through the air, lofting the cylinder higher on a Squaller draft.
"Get down!" David yelled.
We turned toward the shelter of the hall, eyes squeezing shut, hands thrown over our heads, bracing for the explosion. The blast shook the stone floor beneath our feet, and the glare burned red across my closed lids.
We ran. The Nichevo'ya had scattered, startled by the burst of light and sound, but only seconds later, they were whirling back towards us.
"Run!" I shouted.
I raised my arms and brought the water down in a fiery scythe, cutting through the air like a shard of sharp glass, carving through one Nichevo'ya after the next as Alina shot out with blazing light, Mal next to her opened with fire. The Grisha ran towards the wooded tunnel.
I called on every bit of the sea whips power, every trick Baghra had ever taught me. I pulled the water towards me and honed it into arcs that cut through the shadow army.
But there were just too many of them. What had it cost the Darkling to raise such a multitude? They surged forward, bodies shifting and whirling like a glittering cloud of beetles, arms stretched forward, sharp talons bared. They pushed the Grisha back from the tunnel, black wings beating the air, the wide, twisted holes of their mouths already yawning open.
Then the air came alive with the rattle of gunfire. Soldiers were pouring out of the woods to my left, shooting as they ran. The war cry that issued from their lips raised the hair on my arms. Sankta Alina. Sankta Freya.
They hurtled towards the Nichevo'ya, drawing swords and sabers, slashing out at the monsters with terrifying ferocity. Some were dressed as farmers, and some wore ragged First Army uniforms, but each of them bore identical tattoos: sunbursts, wrought in ink over the sides of their faces.
Only two were unmarked. Tolya and Tamar led the charge, eyes wild, blades flashing, roaring Alina's and my name.
❂♕
The Sun Soldiers plunged into the shadow horde, cutting and thrusting, pushing the Nichevo'ya back as the riflemen fired again and again. But despite their ferocity, they were only human, flesh and steel pitted against living shadow. One by one, the Nichevo'ya began to pick them off.
"Make for the chapel!" Tamar shouted.
The chapel? Did she plan to throw hymnals at the Darkling?
"We'll be trapped!" cried Sergei, running towards me and Alina.
"We're already trapped," Mal replied, slinging his rifle onto his back and grabbing Alina's arm. "Let's go!"
I didn't know what to think, but we were out of options.
"David!" I yelled. "The second bomb!"
He flung it toward the Nichevo'ya. His aim was wild, but Zoya was there to help it along.
We dove into the woods, the sun soldiers bringing up the rear. The blast tore through the trees in a gust of white lights. Lamps had been lit in the chapel and the door stood open. We burst inside, the echo from the footfalls bouncing up over the pews and off the glazed blue dome.
"Where do we go?" Sergei cried in panic.
Already we could hear the whirring, clicking hun from outside. Tolya slammed the chapel door shut, dropping a heavy wooden bolt into place. The sun soldiers took up positions by the windows, rifles in hand.
Tamar hurled over a pew and shot past me up the aisle.
"Come on!"
I watched her in confusion. Just where were we supposed to go?
She tore past the altar and grasped one gilded wood corner of the triptych. I gasped as the water-damaged panel swung open, revealing the dark mouth of a passageway. This was how the sun soldiers had gotten onto the grounds. And how the Apparat had escaped from the Grand Palace.
"Where does it go?" asked David.
"Does it matter?" Zoya shot back.
The building shook as a loud crack of thunder split the air. The chapel door blew to pieces. Tolya was thrown backward, and darkness flooded through.
The Darkling came borne on a tide of shadow, held aloft by monsters who set his feet upon the chapel floor with infinite care.
"Fire!" Tamar shouted.
Shots rang out. The Nichevo'ya writhed and whirled around the Darkling, shifting and re-forming as the bullets struck their bodies, one taking the place of another in a seamless tide of shadow. He didn't even break stride.
Nichevo'ya were streaming through the chapel door. Tolya was already on his feet and rushing to Alina's and my side with pistols drawn. Tamar and Mal flanked us, the Grisha arrayed behind us. I raised my hands, summoning water, bracing for the onslaught.
"Stand down, Freya, Alina." said the Darkling. His cool voice echoed through the chapel, cutting through the noise and chaos. "Stand down, and I will spare them."
In answer, Tamar scraped one axe blade over the other, raising in a horrible shriek of metal. The sun soldiers lifted their rifles, and I heard the sound of Inferni flint being struck.
"Look around," the Darkling said. "You two cannot win. You can only watch them die. Come to me now, and I will do them no harm— not you zealot soldiers, not even the Grisha traitors."
I took in the nightmare of the chapel. The Nichevo'ya swarmed above us, crowding up against the inside of the dome. They clustered around the Darkling in a dense cloud of bodies and wings. Through the windows I could see more, hovering in the twilight sky.
The sun soldiers' faces were determined, but their ranks had been badly thinned. One of them had pimples on his chin. Beneath his tattoo, he didn't look much older than twelve. They needed a miracle from their Saints, one I couldn't perform.
Tolya cocked the trigger on his pistol.
"Hold," I said.
"Freya," Tamar whispered. "we can still get you out."
"Hold," I repeated.
The sun soldiers lowered their rifles. Tamar brought her axes to her hips but kept her grip tight.
"What are your terms?" I asked as I shared a look with Alina.
Her face paled. Mal frowned. Tolya shook his head. I didn't care. I knew it might be a ploy, but if there was even a chance of saving their lives, I had to take it.
"Give yourself up," said the Darkling. "And they all go free. They can climb down the rabbit hole and disappear forever."
"Free?" Sergei whispered.
"He's lying," said Mal. "It's what he does."
"I don't need to lie," said the Darkling. "Freya wants to come with me."
"She doesn't want any part of you." Mal spat.
"No?" the Darkling asked. His dark hair gleamed in the lamplight of the chapel. Summoning his shadow army had taken its toll. He was thinner, paler, but somehow the sharp angles of his face had only become more beautiful. "I warned your oktazat'sya could never understand you, Alina, Freya. I told you they would only come to fear you and resent your powers. Tell me I was wrong."
"You were wrong." My voice was steady, but doubt rustled in my heart.
The Darkling shook his head. "You cannot lie to me. Do you think I could have come to you again and again, if you had been less alone? You called to me, and I answered."
I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. "You... you were really there?"
"On the Fold. In the palace. Last night. When you came rushing into my arms."
I flushed as I remembered his body on top of mine. But with it came fear. A part of me held too much hope to it being illusions, but then I'd seen Genya.
"That isn't possible," Mal bit out.
"You have no idea what I can make possible, tracker."
I shut my eyes.
"Freya—"
"I've seen what you truly are," said the Darkling, "and I've never turned away. I never will."
"You don't know a damn thing about, Freya." hissed Alina.
"Come to me now, and it all stops— the fear, the uncertainty, the bloodshed. Let them go, Freya. Let them all go."
"No," I said. But even as I shook my head, something in me cried out, Yes.
The Darkling sighed and glanced back over his shoulder. "I warned you dear, Freya. Time and time again."
"Bring her," he said.
A figure shuffled forward, draped in a heavy shawl, hunched and slow-moving, as if every step brought pain. Genya.
The Darkling laid a hand on Genya's shoulder. She flinched.
"Leave her alone," I said angrily.
"Show them," he said.
She unwound her shawl. I drew in a sharp breath. I heard someone behind me moan.
"Genya!" I gasped.
We stood in terrible silence. The scars were exactly how I'd remembered them last night, raised black ridges of flesh, twisting lumps of tissue that could never be healed.
I rushed towards her, down to the altar steps. Genya cringed away from me, pulling up her shawl, and turned to hide her face.
I slowed. I reached out to touch her shoulder. I saw the rise and fall of her back, and knew she was crying. Tears pooled my own eyes, but what broke my heart most of all was when, Genya cringed away from me like a frightened animal.
I drew my arm around her slowly, and she immediately relaxed after a moment of tensing. The Darkling didn't stop me.
"I've waged the war you forced me to, Freya, Alina." said the Darkling. "If you hadn't run from me, the Second Army would still be intact. All those Grisha would be alive. Alina, your tracker would be safe and happy with his regiment. When will it be enough? When will you two let me stop?"
You cannot be helped. Your only hope was to run. Baghra was right. We'd been fooled to think we could fight him. We'd tried, and countless people had lost their lives for it.
"You mourn the people killed in Novokribirsk," the Darkling continued, "the people lost to the Fold. But what of the thousands that came before them, giving over to endless wars? What the others dying now on distant shores? Together, we can put an end to all of it."
Reasonable. Logical. For once, I let the words in. An end to all of it.
It's over.
Genya's head rested against my shoulder, her hand coming to my wrist. I should have felt beaten down by the thought, defeated, but instead, it filled me with a curious lightness.
I glanced down at the coin in my hand and then back to the Darkling.
"All right," I whispered.
Genya's grip tightened.
"Freya, no!" Alina cried.
"You'll let them go? Let Alina live in peace?"
The Darkling paused, then nodded once.
"I'm not letting you go!" Alina said angrily through tears.
I ignored her and turned to Tolya and Tamar, Genya still holding tight to me. "Take her. And take Alina even if you have to carry her."
"Freya—"
"We won't go," said Tamar. "We are sworn."
"You will."
Tolya shook his huge head. "We pledged our lives to you. All of us."
I turned to face them. "Then do as I command," I said. "Tolya Yul-Baatar, Tamar Kir-Baatar, you will take these people and the Sun Summoner to safety."
Tamar had tears in her eyes, but she and her brother bowed their heads. Alina took hold of my arm roughly. "You are insane, Freya! I will not have you give up your life."
"I need to do this," I said. Sacrifice or selfishness.
"Please don't," Alina begged.
"I can't run anymore, Alina. I have to keep everybody alive."
"Please..."
I felt the pain in my hand grow. I felt it in the weight of the fetter.
I rested my head against hers and whispered, "I'll always be with you."
I stepped back, Genya still clinging to me until I turned to Tamar and nodded. She stepped forward, gently taking hold of Genya's arm, and pulling her. But Genya held fast to me. Her breath was on my neck, shaking.
I ran my hand over hers and whispered, "You have to go, Genya."
She shook her head against me, not allowing Tamar to pull her away from me. I closed my eyes tight as more tears welled up.
"Please," I whispered.
She shook her head more vigorously this time against me, even though the shawl was still covering her face.
I looked at Tamar and nodded again, and this time Tamar had to forcefully grab her and pull her away from me. I could hear from behind her shawl, the tiny sobs erecting her body.
The Darkling stood waiting, his shadow guard hovering and shifting around him. I was afraid, but beneath the fear, I was eager.
"We are alike," he said. "as no one else is, as no one else will ever be."
He held out his hand, and I stepped into his arms. I cupped the back of his neck, feeling the silken brush of his hair on my fingertips. I knew Genya was watching. I needed her to turn away. I tilted my face up to the Darkling's.
"My life is yours," I whispered.
I saw the elation and triumph in his eyes as he lowered his mouth to mine. Our lips met, and the connection between us opened. This was not the way he'd touched me in my visions, when he'd come to me as shadow. This was real, and I could drown in it.
Power flowed through me— the power of the sea whip, its strong heart beating in both our bodies, the life he'd taken, the life I tried to save. But I also felt the Darkling's power, the power of the Black Heretic, the power of the Fold, my Sun Summoning Power.
Like calls to Like.
I'd sensed it when the Hummingbird entered the Unsea, but I'd been too afraid to embrace it. This time, I didn't fight it. I let go of my fear, my guilt, my shame. There was darkness inside me. He had put it there, and I would no longer deny it. The volcra, the Nichevo'ya, they were my monsters, all of them. And he was my monster, too.
"My life is yours," I repeated. His arms tightened around me. "And yours is mine," I whispered. Against his lips.
Mine. The words reverberated through me, through both of us. The shadow soldiers shifted and whirred.
I remembered the way it had felt in the snowy glade, when the Darkling had put the coin into my hand, and had seized every inch of my Sun Summoning powers. I reached across the connection between us.
He reared back. "What are you doing?"
I knew why he had intended to get the sea whip, to pawn me in the way he'd done it to Alina. But he never did and now... now he was afraid.
Mine.
I forced my way across the bond forged by Morozova's stag and grabbed hold of the Darkling's power and mine. Darkness spilled from him, black ink from his palms, and blood pouring from his mouth.
My eyes watered with pain— it was difficult not to scream. Billowing shapes of Nichevo'ya skittering and blooming into their shapes, hands, claws, heads, and wings. The first of my abominations.
The Darkling tried to pull away from me, but I clutched him tighter, calling his and my power, calling the darkness as he had once used the Stag on Alina's neck.
My life is yours and your life is mine.
The Darkling moaned, and so did I. We fell against each other, but still I did not relent.
"You'll kill both of us!" he cried.
"Yes," I said. "But that was your own fault when you had David put the coin into my hand."
The Darkling's legs buckled, and we collapsed to our knees.
This was no Small Science. This was magic, something ancient, the making at the heart of the world. It was terrifying, limitless. No wonder the Darkling had hungered for more. The Darkness buzzed and clattered, a thousand locusts, beetles, hungry flies, clicking their legs, beating their wings. The Nichevo'ya wavered and re-formed, whirring in a frenzy, driven on by his rage and my exultation.
Another monster. Another. Blood was pouring from the Darkling's nose. The room seemed to rock, and I realized I was convulsing. I was dying, bit by bit, with every monster that wrenched itself free.
Just a little longer, I thought. Just a few more. Just enough so I know that I've sent him to the next world before I follow.
"Freya!" Alina cried.
"No," I shouted. "Let me end this."
Someone seized my wrist, and a shock passed through me. Through the haze of blood and shadow, I glimpsed something beautiful, as if through a golden door. Alina wrenched me away from the Darkling, but not before I called out to my children in one final exhortation: Bring it down.
The Darkling slumped to the ground. The monsters rose in a whirling black column around him, then crashed against the walls of the chapel, shaking the little building to its very foundation.
Alina grabbed my arm and was running up the aisle. The Nichevo'ya were hurling themselves against the chapel walls. Slabs of plaster crashed to the floor. The blue dome swayed as its support began to give way.
Alina leaped past the altar and plunged into the passage. The smell of wet earth and mold filled my nostrils, mingling with the sweet incense scent of the chapel. She ran, racing against the disaster I unleashed.
A boom sounded from somewhere far behind us as the chapel collapsed. The impact roared through the passageway. A cloud of dirt mad debris struck us with the force of an oncoming wave. Alina flew forward. I fumbled from her, and the world came down on us.
❂♕
The first thing I heard was the low rumble of Tolya's voice. I couldn't speak, couldn't scream. All I knew was pain and the relentless weight of the earth. Later I would find out that they'd labored over me for hours, breathing air back into my lungs, stanching the flow of blood, trying to mend the worst breaks in my bones.
I drifted in and out of consciousness. My mouth felt dry and swollen shut. I was pretty sure I'd bitten my tongue. I heard Tamar giving orders.
"Bring the rest of the tunnel down. We need to get as far from here as we possibly can."
Alina. Mal?
"Alina," I forced my lips to form her name.
"She's hurting. Should we put her under?" Tamar asked.
"I don't want to risk her heart-stopping again," replied Tolya.
"Alina," I repeated.
"Leave the passage to the convent open," Tamar said to someone. "Hopefully, he'll think we went out there."
The convent. Sankta Lizabeta. The garden next to the Gritzki mansion. I couldn't order my thoughts. I tried to speak Alina's name again, but I couldn't make my mouth work. The pain was crowding in on me. I tried, with everything in me, but fear was coursing through me. I was supposed to die, I wanted to scream. I would have railed. Instead, I sank into darkness.
❂♕
When I came to, the world was swaying beneath me. I remembered waking aboard the whaler, and for a terrifying moment, I thought I might be on a ship. I opened my eyes and saw earth and rock high above me. We were moving through a massive cavern. I was on my back on some kind of litter, borne between the shoulders of two men.
It was a struggle to stay conscious. I'd spent most of my life feeling weak, but I'd never felt fragile like this. I was a husk, hollowed out, scraped clean. If any breeze could have reached us so far below the earth, I would have blown away into nothing.
Though every bone and muscle in my body shrieked in protest, I managed to turn my head. Alina was there, lying on another litter, carried along just a few feet beside me. She was watching me, as if she'd been waiting for me to wake. She reached out.
I found some reservoir of strength and stretched my hand over the litter's edge. When our fingers met, I heard a sob and realized I was crying. I wept with relief that I would not have to live with the burden of her death. But lodged in my gratitude, I felt a bright thorn of resentment. I wept that I wouldn't have to live at all with the loss of my best friend.
❂♕
We traveled for miles, through passages so tight that they had to lower my litter to the ground and slide me along the rock, through tunnels so high and wide enough for ten hay carts. There were no nights and Days underground.
Alina recovered before I did and limped along beside the litter. She'd been injured when the tunnel collapsed, but the Grisha had restored her. What I had endured, what I had embraced, they had no power to heal.
At some point, we stopped at a cave dripping with rows of stalactites. I'd heard one of my carriers call it the Worm's mouth. When they set me down, Alina and Mal were there, and with their help, I managed to get into a sitting position, propped against the cave wall. Even that effort left me dizzy, and when Alina dabbed her sleeve to my nose, I saw that I was bleeding.
"How bad is it?" I asked.
"You've looked better," Mal admitted. "The pilgrims mentioned something called the White Cathedral. I think that's where we're headed."
"They're taking us to the Apparat."
Mal glanced around the cavern. "This is how he escaped the Grand Palace after the coup. How he managed to evade capture for so long."
"It's how he appeared and disappeared at the fortunetelling party. The mansion was next to the Convent of Sankta Lizabeta, remember? Tamar led us straight to him, and then she let him get away." I heard the bitterness in my weak voice.
Slowly, my addled mind pieced it all together. Only Tolya and Tamar had known about the party, and they'd arranged for the Apparat to meet with me and Alina.
"How are the others?"
Alina looked over to where the ragged group of Grisha huddled in the shadows.
"They know about the fetter," she said. "They're frightened."
"And the Firebird?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so."
"You have to tell them soon," I said.
Alina nodded, "I will."
"Sergei isn't doing well," Mal said. "I think he's still in shock. The rest seem to be holding up."
"And Genya?"
"She's been staying close to the litter. She's concerned about you." Alina paused. "The pilgrims call her Razrusha'ya."
The ruined.
"I need to see Tolya and Tamar."
"You need to rest."
"Now," I said. "Please."
Alina stood but hesitated. When she spoke again, her voice was raw. "You should have told us what you intended to do."
I looked away. "You should have let me finish. You knew I was going to die, it was supposed to happen."
When I heard her footsteps fade, I let my chin drop. I could hear my breath coming in shallow pants. When I worked up the strength to lift my eyes, Tolya and Tamar were kneeling before me, their heads bowed.
"Look at me," I said.
They obeyed. Tolya's sleeves were rolled up, and I saw that his massive forearms were emblazoned with suns.
"Why not tell us?"
"You never would have let us stay close," replied Tamar.
That was true. Even now I wasn't sure what to make of them.
"If you believe me and Alina are Saints, why not let me die in the chapel? It was meant to be my Martyrdom, you both knew that."
"We couldn't let that happen," said Tolya without hesitation.
"You let your other Saint come back for me. After you gave me your vow."
"She broke away," said Tamar.
I lifted a brow. The day Alina could break Tolya's hold was indeed a day of miracles.
Tolya hung his head and heaved his huge shoulders. "Forgive me," he said. "I couldn't be the one to keep her from you."
I sighed. Some holy soldier.
"Do you serve us?"
"Yes," they said in unison.
"Not the priest?"
"We serve you and Alina," said Tolya, his voice a fierce rumble.
"We'll see," I murmured, and waved them away. They rose to go, but I called them back. "Some of the pilgrims have taken to calling Genya Razrusha'ya. Warn them once. If they speak that word again, cut off their tongue."
They didn't blink, didn't flinch. They made their bows and were gone.
❂♕
The White Cathedral was a cavern of alabaster quartz, so vast it might have held a city in its glowing ivory depths. Its walls were damp and bloomed with mushrooms, salt lilies, and toadstools shaped like stars. It was buried deep beneath Ravka, somewhere north of the capital.
I wanted to meet the priest standing, so I held tight Alina's arm as we were brought before him, trying to hide the efforts it took to stay upright and the way my body shook.
"Sankta Alina." the Apparat said. "Sankta Freya. You are come to us at last."
Then he fell to his knees in his tattered brown robes. He kissed my hand, Alina's hand, my hem, Alina's hem. He called out to the faithful, thousands of them gathered in the belly of the cavern. When he spoke, the very air seemed to tremble. "We will rise to make a new Ravka!" he roared. "A country free from tyrants and kings! We will spill from the earth and drive the shadows back in a tide of righteousness!"
Bellow us, the pilgrims chanted. Sankta Alina. Sankta Freya.
There were rooms carved into the rocks, chambers that glowed ivory and glittered with thin veins of silver. Alina and Genya helped me to my quarters.
But by the time we arrived, Alina said quietly, "I'll leave you two to talk."
I was surprised. I hadn't talked to Genya since she had clung to me at the Chapel. I was almost afraid she wouldn't speak. The shawl still covered her face, but she'd allowed her eyes to be seen.
"You need to eat," Genya said quietly for the first time, her voice raspy.
I was brought sweat porridge, but even then, I didn't eat much of it. And a pitcher of fresh water to fill the basin. A mirror had been set directly into the stone, and when I glimpsed myself, I let out a little cry. My skin was pale, stretched tight over jutting bones. My eyes were bruised hollows. My hair had somehow gotten even whiter, now a fall of brittle snow.
I touched my fingertips to the glass. Genya's gaze met mine in the reflection.
"I should have warned you," she said.
"I look like a monster."
"More like a khitka."
"Wood-sprites eat children."
"Only when they're hungry," she said.
I tried to smile, to hold tight to this glimmer of warmth between us. But I noticed how far from me she stood, arms around herself, like she was cowering. She mistook the sheen of tears in my eyes.
"It will get better," she said. "Once you use your power."
"Of course," I replied, turning away from the mirror, feeling exhausted and pain settle into my bones.
I hesitated, then cast a meaningful glance at the men the Apparat had stationed at the door to the chambers. Genya stepped closer. I wanted to press my cheek to her chest, feel her arms around me, and listen to the steady, human beat of her heart. I didn't.
Instead, I spoke low, barely moving my mouth. "I've tried," I whispered. "Somethings wrong."
I could tell she was frowning even if the shawl covered her face, her brows scrunching up gave it away.
"You can't summon?" she asked quietly.
Was there fear in her voice? Hope? Concern? I couldn't tell. All I could sense was caution.
"I'm too weak. We're too far below ground. I don't know."
A hopeless feeling crowded in on me, dense and black, heavy like the press of soil. I didn't want to say the words, didn't want to voice to the fear I'd carried with me through the long, dark miles beneath the earth, but I forced myself to speak it.
"The water won't come, Genya. My power is gone."
END OF ACT TWO
SEASON TWO
OF
TANGLED
『Author's note』
I feel like I need a round of applause, that's literally 7,117 words and I did all this in 6 hours.
Words written:
7,117