AS WINTER DREW to a close, talk turned to the King and Queen’s fete at the Grand Palace. The Grisha Summoners were expected to put on a demonstration of their powers to entertain the nobles, and much time was spent discussing who would perform and what would make the most impressive showing.
“Just don’t call it ‘performing,’” Genya warned. “The Darkling can’t stand it. He thinks the winter fete is a giant waste of Grisha time.”
I thought he might have a point. The Materialki workshops buzzed morning and night with orders from the palace for cloth and gems and fireworks. The Summoners spent hours at the stone pavilions honing their “demonstrations.” Given that Ravka was at war and had been for over a hundred years, it all seemed a little frivolous. Still, I hadn’t been to many parties, and it was hard not to get caught up in the talk of silks and dances and flowers.
Baghra had no patience with me. If I lost focus for even a moment, she’d smack me with her stick and say, “Dreaming of dancing with your dark prince?”
I ignored her but, too often, she was right. Despite my best efforts, I was thinking of the Darkling. He’d disappeared once again, and Genya told me that he’d left for the north. The other Grisha speculated that he would have to put in an appearance at the winter fete, but no one could be sure. Again and again, I found myself on the verge of telling Genya about the kiss, but I always stopped just as the words were on my lips.
You’re being ridiculous, I told myself sternly. It didn’t mean anything. He probably kisses a lot of Grisha girls. And why would the Darkling have any interest in you when there are people like Genya and Zoya around? But if all those things were true, I didn’t want to know. As long as I kept my mouth shut, the kiss was a secret that the Darkling and I shared, and I wanted it to stay that way. All the same, some days it took everything in me not to stand up in the middle of breakfast and shout, “The Darkling kissed me!”
If Baghra was disappointed in me, it was nothing compared to my disappointment in myself. As hard as I pushed, my limitations were becoming obvious. At the end of every lesson, I kept hearing the Darkling say, “It’s not enough,” and I knew he was right. He wanted to destroy the very fabric of the Fold, to turn back the black tide of the Unsea, and I simply wasn’t strong enough to manage that. I’d read enough to understand that this was the way of things. All Grisha had limits to their power, even the Darkling. But he’d said I was going to change the world, and it was hard to accept that I might not be
up to the task.
The Darkling had vanished, but the Apparat seemed to be everywhere. He lurked in hallways and by the path to the lake. I thought he might be trying to trap me alone again, but I didn’t want to listen to him rant about faith and suffering. I was careful never to let him catch me by myself.
On the day of the winter fete, I was excused from my classes, but I went to see Botkin anyway. I was too anxious about my part in the demonstration and the prospect of seeing the Darkling again to just sit in my room. Being around the other Grisha didn’t help. Marie and Nadia talked constantly about their new silk kefta and what jewels they intended to wear, and David and the other Fabrikators kept accosting me to talk over the details of the demonstration. So I avoided the domed hall and went out to the training rooms by the stables.
Botkin put me through my paces and made me drill using my mirrors. Without them, I was still pretty helpless against him. But with my gloves on, I could almost hold my own. Or so I thought. When the lesson was over, Botkin admitted that he’d been pulling his punches.
“Should not hit girl in face when she is going to party,” he said with a shrug. “Botkin will be fairer tomorrow.”
I groaned at the prospect.
I had a quick dinner in the domed hall and then, before anyone could corner me, I hurried up to my room, already thinking of my beautiful sunken tub. The banya was fun, but I’d had my share of communal bathing in the army, and privacy was still a novelty to me.
When I’d had a long, luxurious soak, I sat down by the windows to dry my hair and watch night fall over the lake. Soon, the lamps lining the long drive to the palace would be lit as nobles arrived in their lavish coaches, each more ornate than the last. I felt a little prickle of excitement. A few months ago, I would have dreaded a night like this: a performance, playing dress-up with hundreds of beautiful people in their beautiful clothes. I was still nervous, but I thought it all might actually be … fun.
I looked at the little clock on the mantel and frowned. A servant was supposed to be delivering my new silk kefta, but if she didn’t arrive soon, I was going to have to wear my old wool one or borrow something from Marie. Almost as soon as I’d had the thought, a knock sounded at the door. But it was Genya, her tall frame swathed in cream silk heavily embroidered in gold, her red hair piled high on her head to better display the massive diamonds
dangling from her ears and the graceful turn of her neck. “Well?” she said, turning this way and that.
“I loathe you,” I said with a smile.
“I do look remarkable,” she said, admiring herself in the mirror over the basin.
“You’d look even better with a little humility.”
“I doubt that. Why aren’t you dressed?” she asked, taking a break from marveling at her own reflection to notice I was still in my robe.
“My kefta hasn’t arrived.”
“Oh, well, the Fabrikators have been a bit overwhelmed with the Queen’s requests. I’m sure it will get here. Now, sit down in front of the mirror so I can do your hair.”
I practically squealed with excitement, but I managed to restrain myself. I’d been hoping Genya would offer to do my hair, but I hadn’t wanted to ask. “I thought you would be helping the Queen,” I said as Genya set her clever hands to work.
She rolled her amber eyes. “I can only do so much. Her highness has decided she doesn’t feel up to attending the ball tonight. She has a headache. Ha! I’m the one who spent an hour removing her crow’s feet.”
“So she’s not going?”
“Of course she’s going! She just wants her ladies to fuss over her so she can feel even more important. This is the biggest event of the season. She wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The biggest event of the season. I let out a shaky breath. “Nervous?” asked Genya.
“A little. I don’t know why.”
“Maybe because a few hundred nobles are waiting to get their first look at you.”
“Thanks. That really helps.”
“You’re very welcome,” she said, giving my hair a hard tug. “You should be used to being gawked at by now.”
“And yet I’m not.”
“Well, if it gets too bad, give me a signal, and I’ll get up on the banquet table, toss my skirt over my head, and do a little dance. That way no one will be looking at you.”
I laughed and felt myself relax a bit. After a moment, trying to keep my voice casual, I asked, “Has the Darkling arrived?”
“Oh yes. He arrived yesterday. I saw his coach.”
My heart sank a little. He had been in the palace for an entire day and he hadn’t come to see me or called for me.
“I imagine he’s very busy,” said Genya. “Of course.”
After a moment, she said softly, “We all feel it, you know.” “Feel what?”
“The pull. Toward the Darkling. But he’s not like us, Alina.”
I tensed. Genya kept her gaze studiously focused on the coils of my hair. “What do you mean?” I asked. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded
unnaturally high.
“His kind of power, the way he looks. You’d have to be mad or blind not to notice it.”
I didn’t want to ask, but I couldn’t help myself. “Has he ever … ? I mean, have you and he ever … ?”
“No! Never!” A mischievous smile twitched on her lips. “But I would.” “Really?”
“Who wouldn’t?” Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “But I’d never let my heart get involved.”
I gave what I hoped was an indifferent shrug. “Of course not.” Genya raised her flawless brows and tugged hard on my hair. “Ouch!” I yelped. “Will David be there tonight?”
Genya sighed. “No, he doesn’t like parties. But I did just happen to drop by the workrooms so he could get a peek at what he was missing. He barely looked at me.”
“I doubt that,” I said comfortingly.
Genya twisted a final piece of my hair into place and secured it with a golden hairpin.
“There!” she said triumphantly. She handed me my little mirror and turned me around so that I could see her handiwork. Genya had piled half of my hair into an elaborate knot. The rest cascaded around my shoulders in shining waves. I beamed and gave her a quick hug.
“Thank you!” I said. “You’re spectacular.” “A lot of good it does me,” she grumbled.
How was it that Genya had fallen so hard for someone so serious and so quiet and so seemingly oblivious to her gorgeousness? Or was that exactly why she had fallen for David?
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I practically ran to open it. I felt a rush of relief when I saw two servants standing in the doorway, each carrying several boxes. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized how worried I was about my kefta arriving. I laid the largest box on the bed and pulled off the lid.
Genya squeaked, and I just stood there gaping at the contents. When I didn’t move, she reached into the box and pulled out yards of rippling black silk. The sleeves and neckline were delicately embroidered in gold and glittered with tiny jet beads.
“Black,” Genya whispered. His color. What did it mean? “Look!” she gasped.
The neckline of the gown was laced with a black velvet ribbon, and from it hung a small golden charm: the sun in eclipse, the Darkling’s symbol.
I bit my lip. This time, the Darkling had chosen to set me apart, and there was nothing I could do about it. I felt a little jab of resentment, but it was
drowned by excitement. Had he chosen these colors for me before or after the night by the lake? Would he regret seeing me in them tonight?
I couldn’t think about that now. Unless I wanted to go to the ball naked, I didn’t have a lot of options. I stepped behind the screen and slipped into the new kefta. The silk felt cool on my skin as I fumbled with the tiny buttons. When I emerged, Genya broke into a huge grin.
“Ooh, I knew you’d look good in black.” She grabbed my arm. “Come on!” “I don’t even have my shoes on!”
“Just come on!”
She pulled me down the hall, then threw open a door without knocking.
Zoya shrieked. She was standing in the middle of her room in a kefta of midnight blue silk, a brush in her hand.
“Excuse us!” announced Genya. “But we have need of this chamber.
Darkling’s orders!”
Zoya’s beautiful blue eyes slitted dangerously. “If you think—” she began and then she caught sight of me. Her jaw dropped, and the blood drained from her face.
“Out!” commanded Genya.
Zoya snapped her mouth shut, but to my amazement, she left the room without another word. Genya slammed the door behind her.
“What are you doing?” I asked dubiously.
“I thought it was important that you see yourself in a proper mirror, not that useless sliver of glass on your dressing table,” she said. “But mostly I wanted to see the look on that bitch’s face when she saw you in the Darkling’s color.”
I couldn’t restrain my grin. “That was pretty wonderful.” “Wasn’t it?” Genya said dreamily.
I turned to the mirror, but Genya grabbed me and sat me down at Zoya’s dressing table. She started rooting around in the drawers.
“Genya!”
“Just wait … aha! I knew she was darkening her lashes!” Genya pulled a little pot of black antimony from Zoya’s drawer. “Can you summon a little light for me to work with?”
I called a nice warm glow to help Genya see better and tried to be patient as she made me look up, down, left, right.
“Perfect!” she said when she was done. “Oh, Alina, you look like quite the temptress.”
“Right,” I said, and snatched the mirror from her. But then I had to smile. The sad, sickly girl with hollowed-out cheeks and bony shoulders was gone. In her place was a Grisha with sparkling eyes and shimmering waves of bronze hair. The black silk clung to my new form, shifting and sliding like sewn-together shadows. And Genya had done something marvelous to my eyes so that they looked dark and almost catlike.
“Jewelry!” shouted Genya, and we ran back to my room, passing Zoya seething in the hallway.
“Are you done?” she snapped.
“For the moment,” I said airily, and Genya gave a very unladylike snort.
In the other boxes on my bed, we found golden silk slippers, glittering jet and gold earrings, and a thick fur muff. When I was ready, I examined myself in the little mirror above the basin. I felt exotic and mysterious, like I was wearing some other, far more glamorous girl’s clothes.
I looked up to see Genya watching me with a troubled expression. “What’s wrong?” I said, suddenly self-conscious again.
“Nothing,” she said with a smile. “You look beautiful. Truly. But …” Her smile faltered. She reached out and lifted the little golden charm at my neckline.
“Alina, the Darkling doesn’t notice most of us. We’re moments he’ll forget in his long life. And I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing. Just … be careful.”
I stared at her, baffled. “Of what?” “Of powerful men.”
“Genya,” I asked before I could lose my nerve, “what happened between you and the King?”
She examined the toes of her satin slippers. “The King has his way with lots of servants,” she said. Then she shrugged. “At least I got a few jewels out if it.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No. I don’t.” She fiddled with one of her earrings. “The worst part is that everyone knows.”
I put my arm around her. “They don’t matter. You’re worth all of them put together.”
She gave a weak imitation of her confident smile. “Oh, I know that.”
“The Darkling should have done something,” I said. “He should have protected you.”
“He has, Alina. More than you know. Besides, he’s as much a slave to the whims of the King as the rest of us. At least for now.”
“For now?”
She gave me a quick squeeze. “Let’s not dwell on depressing things tonight. Come on,” she said, her gorgeous face breaking into a dazzling grin. “I’m in desperate need of champagne!”
And with that, she glided serenely from the room. I wanted to say more to her. I wanted to ask her what she meant about the Darkling. I wanted to take a hammer to the King’s head. But she was right. There would be plenty of time for trouble tomorrow. I took a last peek in the little mirror and hurried out into the hall, leaving my worries and Genya’s warnings behind me.
MY BLACK KEFTA caused quite a stir in the domed hall as Marie and Nadia and a group of other Etherealki dressed in blue velvets and silks swarmed around me and Genya. Genya made to slip away as she usually did, but I held fast to her arm. If I was wearing the Darkling’s color, then I intended to take full advantage of it and have my friend by my side.
“You know I can’t go into the ballroom with you. The Queen would have a fit,” she whispered in my ear.
“Okay, but you can still walk over with me.” Genya beamed.
As we walked down the gravel path and into the wooded tunnel, I noticed that Sergei and several other Heartrenders were keeping pace with us, and I realized with a start that they were guarding us—or probably me. I supposed it made sense with all of the strangers on the palace grounds for the fete, but it was still disconcerting, a reminder that there were a lot of people in the world who wanted me dead.
The grounds surrounding the Grand Palace had been lit up to showcase tableaus of actors and little troupes of acrobats performing for wandering guests. Masked musicians strolled the paths. A man with a monkey on his shoulder ambled past, and two men covered from head to toe in gold leaf rode by on zebras, throwing jeweled flowers to everyone they passed. Costumed choirs sang in the trees. A trio of redheaded dancers splashed around in the double-eagle fountain, wearing little more than seashells and coral and holding up platters full of oysters to guests.
We had just started to climb the marble steps when a servant appeared with a message for Genya. She read the note and sighed.
“The Queen’s headache has miraculously disappeared, and she has decided to attend the ball after all.” She gave me a hug, promised to find me before the demonstration, and then slipped away.
Spring had barely begun to show itself, but it was impossible to tell that in the Grand Palace. Music floated down the marble hallways. The air felt curiously warm and was perfumed with the scent of thousands of white flowers, grown in Grisha hothouses. They covered tables and trailed down balustrades in thick clusters.
Marie, Nadia, and I drifted through groups of nobles, who pretended to ignore us but whispered as we passed by with our Corporalki guard. I held my head high and even smiled at one of the young noblemen standing by the entrance to the ballroom. I was surpised to see him blush and look down at his shoes. I glanced at Marie and Nadia to see if they had noticed, but they were gabbling about some of the dishes served to the nobles at dinner—roasted lynx, salted peaches, burnt swan with saffron. I was glad that we’d eaten
earlier.
The ballroom was larger and grander than even the throne room had been, lit by row after row of sparkling chandeliers, and full of masses of people drinking and dancing to the sounds of a masked orchestra seated along the far wall. The gowns, the jewels, the crystals dripping from the chandeliers, even the floor beneath our feet seemed to sparkle, and I wondered how much of it was Fabrikator craft.
The Grisha themselves mingled and danced, but they were easy to pick out in their bold colors: purple, red, and midnight blue, glowing beneath the chandeliers like exotic flowers that had sprung up in some pale garden.
The next hour passed in a blur. I was introduced to countless noblemen and their wives, high-ranking military officers, courtiers, and even some Grisha from noble households who had come as guests to the ball. I quickly gave up trying to remember names and simply smiled and nodded and bowed. And tried to keep myself from scanning the crowd for the Darkling’s black-clad form. I also had my first taste of champagne, which I found I liked much better than kvas.
At one point, I discovered myself face-to-face with a tired-looking nobleman leaning on a cane.
“Duke Keramsov!” I exclaimed. He was wearing his old officer’s uniform, his many medals pinned to his broad chest.
The old man looked at me with a flicker of interest, clearly startled that I knew his name.
“It’s me,” I said. “Alina Starkov?”
“Yes … yes. Of course!” he said with a faint smile.
I looked into his eyes. He didn’t remember me at all.
And why should he? I was just another orphan, and a very forgettable one at that. Still, I was surprised at how much it hurt.
I made polite conversation for as long as I had to and then took the first opportunity to escape.
I leaned against a pillar and grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing servant. The room felt uncomfortably warm. As I looked around, I suddenly felt very alone. I thought of Mal, and for the first time in weeks, my heart gave that old familiar twist. I wished he could be here to see this place. I wished he could see me in my silk kefta with gold in my hair. Mostly I just wished that he was standing beside me. I pushed the thought away and took a big gulp of champagne. What difference did it make if some drunk old man didn’t know me? I was glad he didn’t recognize the scrawny, miserable little girl I’d been.
I saw Genya gliding through the crowd toward me. Counts and dukes and wealthy merchants turned to stare at her as she passed, but she ignored them all. Don’t waste your time, I wanted to tell them. Her heart belongs to a
gangly Fabrikator who doesn’t like parties.
“Time for the show—I mean, the demonstration,” she said when she reached me. “Why are you all by yourself?”
“I just needed to take a little break.” “Too much champagne?”
“Maybe.”
“Silly girl,” she said, looping her arm through mine. “There’s no such thing as too much champagne. Though your head will try to tell you otherwise tomorrow.”
She steered me through the crowd, gracefully dodging people who wanted to meet me or leer at her, until we’d made our way behind the stage that had been set up along the far wall of the ballroom. We stood by the orchestra and watched as a man dressed in an elaborate silver ensemble took to the stage to introduce the Grisha.
The orchestra struck a dramatic chord, and the guests were soon gasping and applauding as Inferni sent arcs of flame shooting over the crowd and Squallers sent spires of glitter whirling about the room. They were joined by a large group of Tidemakers who, with the Squallers’ help, brought a massive wave crashing over the balcony to hover inches above the audience’s heads. I saw hands reach up to touch the shining sheet of water. Then the Inferni raised their arms and, with a hiss, the wave exploded into a swirling mass of mist. Hidden by the side of the stage, I had a sudden inspiration and sent light cascading through the mist, creating a rainbow that shimmered briefly in the air.
“Alina.”
I jumped. The light faltered and the rainbow disappeared. The Darkling was standing beside me. As usual, he wore a black kefta, though this one was made of raw silk and velvet. The candlelight gleamed off his dark hair. I swallowed and glanced around, but Genya had disappeared.
“Hello,” I managed. “Are you ready?”
I nodded, and he led me to the base of the steps leading to the platform. As the crowd applauded and the Grisha left the stage, Ivo punched my arm. “Nice touch, Alina! That rainbow was perfect.” I thanked him and then turned my attention to the crowd, feeling suddenly nervous. I saw eager faces, the Queen surrounded by her ladies, looking bored. Beside her, the King swayed on his throne, clearly well in his cups, the Apparat at his side. If the royal princes had bothered to show up, they were nowhere to be seen. With a start, I realized the Apparat was staring directly at me, and I looked quickly away.
We waited as the orchestra began to play an ominous, escalating thrum and the man in silver bounded onto the stage once again to introduce us.
Suddenly, Ivan was beside us saying something in the Darkling’s ear. I
heard the Darkling reply, “Take them to the war room. I’ll be there shortly.”
Ivan darted away, ignoring me completely. When the Darkling turned to me, he was smiling, his eyes alive with excitement. Whatever news he’d gotten had been good.
A burst of applause signaled that it was time for us to take the stage. He took my arm and said, “Let’s give the people what they want.”
I nodded, my throat dry as he led me up the steps and to the center of the stage. I heard eager buzzing from the crowd, looked out at their expectant faces. The Darkling gave me a short nod. With little preamble, he slammed his hands together and thunder boomed through the room as a wave of darkness fell over the party.
He waited, letting the crowd’s anticipation grow. The Darkling might not have liked the Grisha performing, but he certainly knew how to put on a show. Only when the room was practically vibrating with tension did he lean into me and whisper, so softly that only I could hear, “Now.”
Heart clattering, I extended my arm, palm up. I took a deep breath and called up that feeling of surety, the feeling of light rushing toward me and through me, and focused it in my hand. A bright column of light shot upward from my palm, gleaming in the darkness of the ballroom. The crowd gasped, and I heard someone shout, “It’s true!”
I turned my hand slightly, angling toward what I hoped was the right spot on the balcony that David had described to me earlier.
“Just make sure you aim high enough, and we’ll find you,” he’d said.
I knew I’d gotten it right when the beam from my palm shot out from the balcony, zigging and zagging across the room as the light bounced from one large Fabrikator-made mirror to the next until the dark ballroom was a pattern of crisscrossing streams of gleaming sunlight.
The crowd murmured in excitement.
I closed my palm, and the beam disappeared, then in a flash I let the light bloom around me and the Darkling, wrapping us in a glowing sphere that surrounded us like a flowing, golden halo.
He looked at me and held out his hand, sending black ribbons of darkness climbing through the sphere, twisting and turning. I grew the light wider and brighter, feeling the pleasure of the power move through me, letting it play through my fingertips as he sent inky tendrils of darkness shooting through the light, making them dance.
The crowd applauded and the Darkling murmured softly, “Now, show them.”
I grinned and did as I had been taught, throwing my arms wide and feeling my whole self open, then I slammed my hands together and a loud rumble shook the ballroom. Brilliant white light exploded through the crowd with a whoosh as the guests released a collective “Ahhhh!” and closed their eyes,
flinging up their hands against the brightness.
I held it for a few long seconds and then unclasped my hands, letting the light fade. The crowd burst into wild applause, clapping furiously and stomping their feet.
We took our bows as the orchestra began to play and the applause gave way to excited chatter. The Darkling pulled me to the side of the stage and whispered, “Do you hear them? See them dancing and embracing? They know now that the rumors are true, that everything is about to change.”
My elation ebbed slightly as I felt uncertainty creep in. “But aren’t we giving these people false hope?” I asked.
“No, Alina. I told you that you were my answer. And you are.”
“But after what happened by the lake …” I blushed furiously and hurried to clarify. “I mean, you said I wasn’t strong enough.”
The Darkling’s mouth quirked in the suggestion of a grin but his eyes were serious. “Did you really think I was done with you?”
A little tremor quaked through me. He watched me, his half smile fading. Then, abruptly, he took me by the arm and pulled me from the stage into the crowd. People offered their congratulations, reached their hands out to touch us, but he cast a rippling pool of darkness that snaked through the crowd and vanished as soon as we had passed. It was almost like being invisible. I could hear snatches of conversation as we slipped between groups of people.
“I didn’t believe it …” “ … a miracle!”
“ … never trusted him but …” “It’s over! It’s over!”
I heard people laughing and crying. That feeling of disquiet twisted through me again. These people believed that I could save them. What would they think when they learned I was good for nothing but parlor tricks? But these thoughts were only dim flickers. It was hard to think of anything but the fact that, after weeks of ignoring me, the Darkling had hold of my hand and was pulling me through a narrow door and down an empty corridor.
A giddy laugh escaped me as we slipped inside an empty room lit only by the moonlight pouring in through the windows. I barely had time to register that it was the sitting room where I had once been brought to meet the Queen, because as soon as the door closed, he was kissing me and I could think of nothing else.
I’d been kissed before, drunken mistakes, awkward fumblings. This was nothing like that. It was sure and powerful and like my whole body had just come awake. I could feel my pounding heart, the press of silk against my skin, the strength of his arms around me, one hand buried deep in my hair, the other at my back, pulling me closer. The moment his lips met mine, the connection between us opened and I felt his power flood through me. I could
feel how much he wanted me—but behind that desire, I could feel something else, something that felt like anger.
I drew back, startled. “You don’t want to be doing this.”
“This is the only thing I want to be doing,” he growled, and I could hear the bitterness and desire all tangled up in his voice.
“And you hate that,” I said with a sudden flash of comprehension.
He sighed and leaned against me, brushing my hair back from my neck. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, his lips grazing my ear, my throat, my collarbone.
I shivered, letting my head fall back, but I had to ask. “Why?”
“Why?” he repeated, his lips still brushing over my skin, his fingers sliding over the ribbons at my neckline. “Alina, do you know what Ivan told me before we took the stage? Tonight, we received word that my men have spotted Morozova’s herd. The key to the Shadow Fold is finally within our grasp, and right now, I should be in the war room, hearing their report. I should be planning our trip north. But I’m not, am I?”
My mind had shut down, given itself over to the pleasure coursing through me and the anticipation of where his next kiss would land.
“Am I?” he repeated and he nipped at my neck. I gasped and shook my head, unable to think. He had me pushed up against the door now, his hips hard against mine. “The problem with wanting,” he whispered, his mouth trailing along my jaw until it hovered over my lips, “is that it makes us weak.” And then, at last, when I thought I couldn’t bear it any longer, he brought his mouth down on mine.
His kiss was harder this time, laced with the anger I could feel lingering inside him. I didn’t care. I didn’t care that he’d ignored me or that he confused me or about any of Genya’s vague warnings. He’d found the stag. He’d been right about me. He’d been right about everything.
His hand slid down to my hip. I felt a little trill of panic as my skirt slid higher and his fingers closed on my bare thigh, but instead of pulling away, I pushed closer to him.
I don’t know what might have happened next—at that moment we heard a loud clamor of voices from the hallway. A group of very noisy, very drunk people were careening down the corridor, and someone bumped heavily into the door, rattling the handle. We froze. The Darkling shoved his shoulder against the door so that it wouldn’t open, and the group moved on, shouting and laughing.
In the silence that followed, we stared at each other. Then he sighed and dropped his hand, letting the silk of my skirts fall back into place.
“I should go,” he murmured. “Ivan and the others are waiting for me.” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
He stepped away from me. I moved aside, and he opened the door a crack,
glancing down the hallway to make sure it was empty.
“I won’t return to the party,” he said. “But you should, at least for a while.” I nodded again. I was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that I was standing in a dark room with a near stranger and that only a few moments before I’d nearly had my skirts around my waist. Ana Kuya’s stern face appeared in my mind, lecturing me about the foolish mistakes of peasant girls, and I flushed
with embarrassment.
The Darkling slipped through the doorway, but then he turned back to me. “Alina,” he said, and I could see that he was fighting with himself, “can I come to you tonight?”
I hesitated. I knew that if I said yes, there would be no turning back. My skin still burned where he’d touched me, but the excitement of the moment was melting away, and a bit of sense was returning. I wasn’t sure of what I wanted. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
I waited too long. We heard more voices coming down the hall. The Darkling pulled the door shut, striding out into the hallway as I stepped back into the darkness. I waited nervously, trying to think of an excuse for why I might be hiding in an empty room.
The voices passed and I let out a long, shuddering breath. I hadn’t had a chance to say yes or no to the Darkling. Would he come anyway? Did I want him to? My mind was whirring. I had to set myself to rights and get back to the party. The Darkling could just disappear, but I didn’t have that luxury.
I peeked out into the corridor and then hurried back to the ballroom, stopping to check my appearance in one of the gilt mirrors. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. My cheeks were flushed, my lips a bit bruised looking, but there was nothing I could do about that. I smoothed my hair and straightened my kefta. As I was about to enter the ballroom, I heard a door open at the other end of the hallway. The Apparat was hurrying toward me, his brown robes flapping behind him. Oh please not now.
“Alina!” he called.
“I have to get back to the ball,” I said cheerily and turned away from him. “I must speak with you! Things are moving far more quickly than—”
I slipped back into the party with what I hoped was a serene expression. Almost instantly, I was surrounded by nobles hoping to meet me and congratulate me on the demonstration. Sergei hurried over to me with my other Heartrender guards, murmuring apologies for losing me in the crowd. Glancing over my shoulder, I was relieved to see the Apparat’s ragged form swallowed by a tide of partygoers.
I did my best to make polite conversation and to answer the questions that the guests asked. One woman had tears in her eyes and asked me to bless her. I had no idea what to do, so I patted her hand in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. All I wanted was to be alone to think, to sort through the
confused mess of emotions in my head. The champagne wasn’t helping.
As one group of guests moved off to be replaced by another, I recognized the long, melancholy face of the Corporalnik who had ridden with me and Ivan in the Darkling’s coach and helped to fight off the Fjerdan assassins. I scrambled to remember his name.
He came to my rescue, bowing deeply and saying, “Fedyor Kaminsky.” “Forgive me,” I said. “It’s been a long night.”
“I can only imagine.”
I hope not, I thought with a twinge of embarrassment.
“It seems the Darkling was right after all,” he said with a smile. “Pardon?” I squeaked.
“You were so certain that you couldn’t possibly be Grisha.”
I returned his grin. “I try to make a habit of getting things hopelessly wrong.”
Fedyor barely had time to mention his new assignment near the southern border before he was whisked away by another crowd of eager guests, all waiting for their turn with the Sun Summoner. I hadn’t even had a chance to thank him for saving my life that day in the glen.
I managed to keep up the small talk and forced smiles for about an hour, but the moment I found a break, I told my guards I wanted to leave and made a quick exit toward the doors.
The moment I stepped outside, I felt a wave of relief. The night air was wonderfully cold, and the stars sparkled brightly above. I took a deep breath, feeling both dizzy and tired, my thoughts ricocheting between excitement and nerves. If the Darkling came to my room tonight, what would it mean? The idea of being his sent a shiver through me. I didn’t believe he was in love with me, and I wasn’t sure what I felt for him, but he desired me, and maybe that was enough.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. The Darkling’s men had found the stag. That should be my focus—my destiny, the reality that I’d have to kill an ancient creature, the power it would grant me, and the weight of that responsibility. But all I could think about were his hands on my hips, his lips on my neck, the feel of his body against mine in the darkness. I inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp night air. The sensible thing would be to lock my door and go to sleep, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be sensible.
When we arrived back at the Little Palace, Sergei and the others left to return to the ball. The domed hall was quiet, the fires in the tile ovens low, the lamps casting a warm, golden glow. Just as I was about to slip through the doorway to the main staircase, the carved doors behind the Darkling’s table opened. I quickly stepped into the shadows. I didn’t want the Darkling to know I’d left the party early, and I wasn’t quite ready to face him yet. But it was only a group of soldiers crossing through the entry hall on their way out of the Little Palace. I wondered if they were the ones who had come to report the location of the stag. As the light from one of the lamps fell on the last soldier, my heart nearly stopped.
“Mal!”
When he turned around, I thought I might dissolve from happiness at the sight of his familiar face. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered his grim expression, but it was lost in the sheer joy I felt. I sprinted across the hall and threw my arms around him, nearly knocking him off his feet. He steadied himself and then pulled my arms from around his neck as he glanced at the other soldiers who had stopped to watch us. I knew I’d probably embarrassed him, but I just didn’t care. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, practically dancing with happiness.
“Go on,” he said to them. “I’ll catch up to you.”
A few eyebrows were raised, but the soldiers disappeared through the main entrance, leaving us alone.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I wasn’t sure where to begin, so I settled for the first thing that came to mind. “What are you doing here?”
“Hell if I know,” Mal said with a weariness that surprised me. “I had a report to make to your master.”
“My … what?” Then it hit me, and I broke into a huge grin. “You’re the one who found Morozova’s herd! I should have known.”
He didn’t return my smile. He didn’t even meet my eyes. He just looked away and said, “I should go.”
I stared at him in disbelief, my elation withering. So I’d been right. Mal was done with me. All the anger and embarrassment I’d felt over the last few months crashed in on me. “Sorry,” I said coldly. “I didn’t realize I was wasting your time.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, no. I understand. You can’t be bothered to answer my letters. Why would you want to stand here talking to me while your real friends are waiting?”
He frowned. “I didn’t get any letters.” “Right,” I said angrily.
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “We have to move constantly to track the herd. My unit is barely in contact with the regiment anymore.”
There was such weariness in his voice. For the first time, I looked at him, really looked at him, and I saw how much he had changed. There were shadows beneath his blue eyes. A jagged scar ran along the line of his unshaven jaw. He was still Mal, but there was something harder about him, something cold and unfamiliar.
“You didn’t get any of my letters?”
He shook his head, still wearing that same distant expression.
I didn’t know what to think. Mal had never lied to me before, and for all my anger, I didn’t think he was lying to me now. I hesitated.
“Mal, I … Can’t you stay a little while longer?” I heard the pleading in my voice. I hated it, but I hated the thought of him leaving even more. “You can’t imagine what it’s been like here.”
He gave a rough bark of laughter. “I don’t need to imagine. I saw your little demonstration in the ballroom. Very impressive.”
“You saw me?”
“That’s right,” he said harshly. “Do you know how worried I’ve been about you? No one knew what had happened to you, what they’d done to you. There was no way to reach you. There were even rumors you were being tortured. When the captain needed men to report back to the Darkling, like an idiot I made the trek down here just on the chance that I would find you.”
“Really?” That was hard for me to believe. I’d gotten so used to the idea of Mal’s indifference.
“Yes,” he hissed. “And here you are, safe and sound, dancing and flirting like some cosseted little princess.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” I snapped. “I’m sure the Darkling can arrange for a rack or some hot coals if that would make you feel better.”
Mal scowled and stepped away from me.
Tears of frustration pricked my eyes. Why were we fighting? Desperately, I reached out to lay a hand on his arm. His muscles tensed, but he didn’t pull away. “Mal, I can’t help the way things are here. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
He looked at me and then looked away. I felt some of the tension go out of him. Finally, he said, “I know you didn’t.”
Again, I heard that terrible weariness in his voice. “What happened to you, Mal?” I whispered.
He said nothing, just stared into the darkness of the hall.
I raised my hand and rested it on his stubbly cheek, gently turning his face to mine. “Tell me.”
He closed his eyes. “I can’t.”
I let my fingertips trail over the raised skin of the scar on his jaw. “Genya could fix this. She can—”
Instantly, I knew I’d said the wrong thing. His eyes flew open. “I don’t need fixing,” he snapped.
“I didn’t mean—”
He snatched my hand from his face, holding it tightly, his blue eyes searching mine. “Are you happy here, Alina?”
The question took me by surprise. “I … I don’t know. Sometimes.” “Are you happy here with him?”
I didn’t have to ask who Mal meant. I opened my mouth to answer, but I
had no idea what to say.
“You’re wearing his symbol,” he observed, his glance flicking to the little gold charm hanging at my neckline. “His symbol and his color.”
“They’re just clothes.”
Mal’s lips twisted in a cynical smile, a smile so different from the one I knew and loved that I almost flinched. “You don’t really believe that.”
“What difference does it make what I wear?”
“The clothes, the jewels, even the way you look. He’s all over you.”
The words hit me like a slap. In the dark of the hall, I felt an ugly flush creeping up my cheeks. I snatched my hand from his, crossing my arms over my chest.
“It’s not like that,” I whispered, but I didn’t meet his gaze. It was as if Mal could see right through me, as if he could pluck every fevered thought I’d ever had of the Darkling right out of my head. But on the heels of that shame came anger. So what if he did know? What right did he have to judge me? How many girls had Mal held in the dark?
“I saw how he looked at you,” he said.
“I like how he looks at me!” I practically shouted.
He shook his head, that bitter smile still playing on his lips. I wanted to smack it right off his face.
“Just admit it,” he sneered. “He owns you.”
“He owns you, too, Mal,” I lashed back. “He owns us all.” That wiped away his smile.
“No he doesn’t,” Mal said fiercely. “Not me. Not ever.”
“Oh really? Don’t you have someplace to be, Mal? Don’t you have orders to follow?”
Mal stood up straight, his face cold. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do.” He turned sharply and walked out the door.
For a moment, I stood there, quivering with anger, and then I ran to the doorway. I got all the way down the steps before I stopped myself. The tears that had been threatening to overflow finally did, coursing down my cheeks. I wanted to run after him, to take back what I’d said, to beg him to stay, but I’d spent my life running after Mal. Instead, I stood in silence and let him go.
