The orphanage had not been intended for guests staying long-term as the Duke's household might have been expected to, but that didn't stop the occasional visitors from passing through. The Grisha who came every year to test the children in Keramzin, for example, would expect to be put up at the Duke's residence as the largest and most affluent part of the town. Alina had many a memory of Ana Kuya ushering the children out of the library or the dining hall to give deference to the visitors.

Alina was not used to being the one deferred to now. When she emerged for breakfast she felt compelled to apologize to the young man who was swatted on the side of the head and shunted back into one of the other rooms. "My brother's boy," the man said by explanation. "He shouldn't be a bother. I told him he could either help clear the table or make himself scarce and he managed to do neither."

Then Alina was offered the choice of freshly done up eggs or a bit of spice cake that was still cooling from the morning to go along with the tea that was getting poured for her. Or did she want both? Once she insisted that the spice cake was fine on its own, honestly, she was left to her own devices.

Whatever mental picture that she and Kirigan had painted was… alright, it was actually kind of nice. It was convenient, primarily, to be given this kind of deference and privacy, but it also had Alina waiting on tenterhooks for it to be pulled out from under her. She tried her best to relax. She slowly worked through her food and drink while watching the street out through the windows.

The only time that one of the innkeepers interrupted her was when the washer girl came by. Alina didn't even have to bring the clothes out to her; that was a task given to the now-bothered nephew. Beyond that, Alina was left alone.

Breakfast could only hold her attention for so long. Sitting in their rented room would be an absolute waste of a day. And Alina would be lying if she didn't admit that she was anxious for when Kirigan would get back. Being on her own once more, especially while trying to pull off a lie of omission about who she was, was stressful.

She ended up in the little stable behind the inn with her bag and brush, working her way through her nervous energy by giving Zarya a very detailed grooming. There wasn't a proper fenced-in paddock at the inn itself, so Alina was resigned to working within the stall that Zarya was in. The late morning sun coming in through the open doorway was warm enough where she didn't need her kefta underneath the black cloak. That didn't mean she didn't miss it however. Now that she was being forced to avoid it, Alina realized how much she cherished getting to wear the signature Girsha attire.

"You can't tell Kirigan that. He'll never let me live it down," Alina said to Zarya, giving the horse a pat on the flank to drive the point home. Then she looked over her shoulder just in case. People had a tendency to show up just when they shouldn't. He wasn't due back yet, but still. He could have surprised her.

She definitely wasn't looking for him. Not at all.

Even grooming and brushing as diligently as she could, Alina was still left with not enough to do. The rubles in her bag itched to be spent much in the way that her first full pay - properly full, after she had paid off the advances for her uniform and cartography tools - had burned a hole in her pocket. For all the comforts of living in the Little Palace of steady meals and fancy suite of rooms to sleep in, there wasn't any shopping to be done.

There was a method to her madness when she shouldered her bag and left the stables. During breakfast she had spent some of her time working up a mental checklist of fresh supplies that they could benefit from having. She didn't plan on the time that slipped away when she ogled the display of sweets at the first shop she passed. Would the soft, fluffy zefir last on the road? Maybe not quite. Alina still ended up with a bag of them nonetheless, won over by the overly cheerful shopkeeper and a buy-two-get-two agreement. Her other more practical purchases included neat strips of smoked meat, a tin of white tea leaves that would hopefully be less bitter than their current stash, and a restock of friction matches that had made starting the fire much easier than when she had been on her own.

Being out on the street also allowed Alina a better view of the western road into town. She was able to keep a weather eye out and flag down Kirigan when Harbinger trotted into view. "Miss Safin," Kirigan greeted her simply. Alina opened her mouth to reply when he dismounted and found herself struggling to figure out what to call him. She couldn't bring herself to use his fake name; it just didn't feel right. Instead she focused on Harbinger, patting the gelding on the nose.

"Welcome back. Did you have a nice ride?"

Kirigan leaned over her shoulder as he flipped the reins forward to lead the horse. "If I didn't know any better I would assume you were talking to Harbinger instead of me," he teased.

Alina rolled her eyes. "I was. Welcome back to you, too, I suppose. I think Zarya only misses him though," she replied in kind.

"As well she should. I'm only the one who saved her from the boredom of Vasily's stables and gave her the chance to run off with a chaotic little creature."

"I'm far from little!" Alina groused. "Just because we're not all walking oak trees doesn't mean that I'm small!"

"Yet you don't deny the chaotic comment." He passed her the reins. "Here. Since everyone misses him and not me," Kirigan explained.

It coaxed another laugh out of Alina. Alina tugged for Harbinger to follow, and the gelding happily ambled along. She didn't even need to work to coax him along. Kirigan took the bag from her shoulder in exchange when she started to talk through her purchases.

"I thought you would find something more…" Kirigan remarked, his words dropping away. Then he started again. "You know that we can restock at the camp." Of course they'd had the vague agreement that they would pick up food and warm clothes from one of the two armies, but that hadn't mattered when it came to Alina's itch to be productive. She had been able to get more than half of what she had wanted, everything except the clothes essentially.

"I'm not the type to sit around and stare wistfully out the window," Alina said. Kirigan made a noise in agreement. "Speaking of not just sitting around, I take it that you found our dear farrier?"

He nodded. "Novikov will be returning from the dairy tonight and will be able to re-shoe Zarya in the morning."

"Why wait until tomorrow?" Alina pressed. Then she blanched. She hadn't intended to sound so whiny.

Kirigan's expression shifted to something indecipherable before he opened his mouth once more. "I am no more keen on the delay than you are, Alina, but it's only a few more hours. There's no sense in rushing and potentially missing another problem we haven't seen from Zarya," he replied.

He was right as usual which only served to further irritate. Even if the farrier re-shoed Zarya right this minute, they would have less than half a day's proper travelling time before they would need to make camp once more. But remaining here overnight meant staying at the inn another evening and reopening the question of sleeping arrangements. Alina kept her eyes ahead rather than turn to face him while she silently shoved her discomfort and skipping heartbeat back into order.

She hadn't been totally oblivious to what it was like to sleep next to the general. The few times that she had woken to turn over in her sleep she had noticed him next to her. It was hard to miss the feeling of someone just beside her. There might even have been a moment or two when she had used his shoulder to prop her head just right on the pillow. Might have been.

"Did you happen to find a suitable restoratsiya?" Kirigan asked, interrupting her thoughts. She was glad for the distraction.

Dinner had been the last item on Alina's checklist after she had found the matches. They had reached the stables, and Alina tried to pass the reins back to him. Kirigan shook his head and gestured for her to continue. "Since you missed him so much," Kirigan teased. She didn't mind being the one to finish stabling Harbinger, but Kirigan still ended up stepping into the stall to help lift off the saddle and tack.

"Jealousy over a horse doesn't suit you," Alina said.

He grinned ruefully even as he took the brush she handed him. "What does suit me, then?" Kirigan pressed. Alina didn't have an answer. She ducked down to check and clean Harbinger's hooves instead. Then she was able to bring the conversation back to his previous question.

"Why don't we just eat here?" Alina pointed over her shoulder to the inn they were staying at.

Kirigan's grin only widened. "You will learn to dream a little bigger one of these days, I promise you. You are not a junior cartographer here," he said.

Alina let out a huff. "I'm also not the Sun Summoner here," she replied, standing up to look at him over Harbinger and mouthing the words she didn't want to say aloud.

"No, you're not. We're a very nice, very affluent pair from Reyevost who would most certainly deign to try a meal at the nicest eatery that this little village has to offer rather than settle for homemade soup."

"What's wrong with soup?"

"Nothing is wrong with soup. But when you have other options, why not explore them?" Kirigan suggested. When Alina crossed her arms over her chest, he lifted an eyebrow and added, "It's just one day. It's just one meal, even."

"It's not me," Alina replied emphatically. She gestured with the hoof pick in hand still. "This is who I am - average and simple and perfectly okay with soup. That's what I'm used to. Even if I'm not a junior cartographer any longer." Disappointment seeped into her tone and she had to drop back down to Harbinger's next hoof before she let any more out. The outburst had come from nowhere. All she had wanted to say was that she didn't need anything over the top.

Going to a restoratsiya was something that actual high-born people did, not orphans - even if they were Grisha. She had finally gotten to the point of liking who she was now; why was she throwing a fit here? She certainly didn't want to be a junior cartographer anymore. She had moved on, yes. But that also didn't mean pretending to be better than she had become.

"You are a far cry from average, Alina." She shut her eyes and had to press the heel of her palm to them. The shuffling of footsteps and huffed complaint from Harbinger let her know that Kirigan was on the move. Alina leaned heavily against the stall wall, still crouching.

"I don't believe that. It's… it feels like a lie. Like this whole charade. I might be Grisha but that doesn't mean I'm any better than what I am," she muttered.

She was fine, conceptually, with their cover story here. It was easy to pretend to be questionably rich and hopefully, ultimately forgettable. But Kirigan's attitude since last night and remarks now were blurring the lines in ways that challenged her already challenged self-confidence. There was no one to perform for here and now, yet Kirigan seemed to be pressing her to reach for stations much higher than she expected even as a Grisha.

Alina took a deep breath and let her hands drop to her knees. She was able to open her eyes, though she almost immediately regretted that because Kirigan was now crouching in front of her. "It's hard enough to accept that I'm-" Alina made a gesture with one hand to try and emulate her summoning "-and that you and I are finally on the same page. But then that means you're up here and I should be down here and that's- that's- Saints," she huffed.

He was looking at her in bewilderment. Alina tried again to wrangle her thoughts into something more coherent. "You're a general and I'm a soldier. I'm supposed to be one of your soldiers," she said quietly.

"And that means… you can't want to eat at a restoratsiya?" Kirigan asked.

"Yes, exactly. And I especially can't want to eat at a restoratsiya with you," Alina said. How did he not see it?

He sank back on the ground opposite her. Harbinger's shadow passed over his face. No, that was his expression falling. "Why would that be?" Kirigan asked, his tone sharp. "Is it because of what I've done to you or simply because of who I am? It's fine to travel together, but Saints forbid that you might actually enjoy the Shadow Summoner's company?"

Alina was shaking her head fervently. "That's not what I was saying. It's- You're the Black General. It's not appropriate. Not that I don't want to," she insisted. "I just can't put your reputation in any jeopardy any more than I already have."

They stared at one another for a long minute. Alina sat back and drew her knees to her chest. "I've already made you do so much for me. I don't want to mess anything else up for you. Especially when I'm just… me," she admitted. An orphan. A cartographer no longer. Not quite otkazat'sya but a Grisha who hadn't stepped up to fill the responsibilities she needed to.

"We should go back," Alina said.

"Excuse me?"

She kept her gaze on the straw around her feet. "We should go back, shouldn't we? That's what fate is telling us. Having you find me so quickly. Having Zarya toss a shoe. Having… having Mal be so far away to begin with," Alina maligned. "We should go back so that I can actually do what I'm supposed to do and stop dragging you along with this stupid trip."

Kirigan made a bewildered noise. "How did you get from turning down lunch plans because you think it's inappropriate to deciding fate wants you to call everything off?"

Alina opened her mouth to try and explain. She was cut off by another huff from Kirigan. "If this trip was pointless, we would not be here," he said.

He wasn't done yet, either. "If I thought you were anything other than the woman you are, we would not be here. And if I gave a damn about my reputation, I still would not let that keep me from being here."

It wasn't helping her mental battle, not even when he rose from the ground and tugged her to her feet with his hands in hers.

"Alina," Kirigan breathed, "we have as much time as we need to deal with the Fold. We have as much time as we need to ride across the whole breadth of the continent if that's what's going to earn me your trust. I have as much time as you need to realize how important you are. But you're going to need to at least try to believe me when I tell you that you are the first thing that's gone right for me in a very long time.

"If you were to stop worrying for just one moment about how you might, possibly, accidentally be dragging me down to where you think you are, you might just see that all I want is to put you up where you belong."

She had to keep her chin tipped up to meet his eyeline. Her instinct was to study his expression for some tell, some indication that this was exactly the sort of lie that she feared would return. All she saw in the dark depths of his eyes was fervor and open-faced honesty. Still, she had to ask, "Is that really true?"

His expression softened and for the briefest moment his hand left hers to trail in a now-familiar motion down the curve of her cheek. "I told you before: I would not dare to let you down, Alinochka," Kirigan murmured quietly. He used the same endearing name that he had last night when she had been half-asleep. She tipped her head to follow his hand when he tried to let it drop once more. "Not again. Not when there is so much at stake."

"You haven't yet," Alina admitted with a sigh. She allowed herself another long moment resting on his hand before pulling herself together. Setting her shoulders straight and fixing the cloak that had gone askew allowed both of them to break the physical connection between them. There was a warm feeling that lingered in Alina's stomach that she suspected was no longer due to just Kirigan's amplifier.

"Will you think that I'm flighty if I change my mind back? I don't want to stop our trip," Alina said.

She was rewarded with a warm smile. "I don't want to stop our trip, either," Kirigan agreed. "You've had an important goal in mind. You need to see it through."

A thought occurred to Alina and it was mostly because she had already thoroughly put her foot in her mouth enough today that she allowed herself to voice it now. "If I hadn't been heading north, would you have come as easily? Or would you have found it as important, I suppose, is the more accurate question."

Alina ducked down to pick up the hoof pick she had abandoned. Gathering the tools back into the saddlebag that Kirigan had slung over the stall door took only a moment but it was enough to give him time to come up with whatever response he needed to.

She eyed him from behind Harbinger. The gelding was thoroughly displeased that they had spent so long in his stall without deigning to either finish up his brushing or at least give him attention. Alina ran a hand down his neck, smiling when he didn't pull away this time. It gave her a second to collect herself.

"...Perhaps not," Kirigan answered with an apparent lightness and obvious delay. It was the final lynchpin in something that had been slowly coming together in her mind.

"How long, exactly, have you been trying to find Morozova's stag?"

Mal's wording had kept Alina on the wrong mental path for a long time. They both had spent plenty of time as children passing folk tales back and forth in the dim moonlight after they had been sent to bed. And of course when Alin would have her dreams of the massive white stag, she would share those as well. Even more so when she started to take her drawing more seriously. The stag was the subject that she had sketched the most, only followed by Ravka itself once she joined the cartographers.

Would you cross the permafrost with us, looking for that stag of yours? That's where we're going. Some fool's errand searching for Morozova's herd. Like the storybooks. Like those crazy drawings you would do, and Ana Kuya would scream about because you weren't practicing elevation or whatever. We got sent a sketch a few days ago, and I swear it looked just like yours.

She had focused on the first part, on his seemingly over-the-top ask. Of course Alina was willing to do almost anything for Mal. She was coming for him even now.

What she hadn't realized was the obvious part of Mal's letter. They were going to the permafrost to actually look for the herd and plainly the stag itself. It hadn't meant much to Alina at the time or even since then because she hadn't focused on its importance. Now, though, with the facts that she knew now and especially from the conversations with Kirigan she had finally pieced together some kind of picture.

She didn't know how she felt about the image that was left. She let Kirigan put a pin in their discussion until they had left the horse stalls to be between the four proper walls of their room once again. They did pause briefly to, of course, follow up with one of the locals on Kirigan's question as to what the nicest eatery in the village was. They were slated to go after he had the chance to freshen up and Alina got the answer to her question, much to Alina's chagrin.

Alina sat cross-legged on the bed while Kirigan meandered back and forth on the open floor space. She focused carefully on the page in front of her, especially when he changed into one of his last clean shirts; the others weren't back from the laundry. He didn't even try to turn his back to her when he pulled off the old one.

Not that she was even looking.

"So you wanted to talk about the stag," Kirigan asked. Alina ducked back to the page in front of her, her nose practically hitting the butt of the pen she had once again stolen. Sketching with pen wasn't her favorite medium, but she would make do. And it wasn't like she really needed pencil marks to guide her for this subject.

"It's an amplifier, isn't it?" Alina asked, cutting right to the heart of her thoughts. "Or you think it is. Like the white tigers."

"I was thinking more along the lines of it being like me," Kirigan remarked with a chuckle. "But yes. Like the tigers. A creature of great power. An amplifier not fit for just any Grisha."

"You don't even know if it exists."

He scoffed. "Ilya Morozova did not succeed in all of his goals, but I know for certain he succeeded in this," Kirigan insisted. "Besides, why wouldn't you believe in the stag? I would have thought you would be the first to trust in its existence."

Satisfied that he was properly dressed now, Alina looked up once more from her sketch. She just had the face and the antlers done. The rest of the body was tedious to capture even after years of practice. "Because I have weird dreams about it? I wonder how you know about those," Alina said, allowing her voice to have just a touch of venom to it. She knew that she had written about it again in at least one of her own letters.

He had the courtesy to wince at her remark. "That sketch the First Army got was one of mine, too, wasn't it?" Alina continued.

"Among others from previously reported sightings. But your sketch was considered to be more pertinent," Kirigan said slowly. He moved to the foot of the bed to tap two fingers on her page. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"It's just a drawing. You didn't have a favorite animal?" Alina countered. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

"Morozova's creations don't reveal themselves to just anyone, Alina," Kirigan said. He tipped his head in a conspiratorial fashion.

She wouldn't allow herself to be so easily convinced. Dreams were just that: dreams. Nonsense that the brain made up, especially for children.

"I've heard probably a half dozen different tales about Morozova's herd or the stag itself. Hunters like to claim they've seen him, mostly to sound more impressive than they really are because they never actually end up killing him. Old maids are said to be haunted by it if they had a child they gave away when they were young and foolish. And orphans have dreams about a pretty, magical stag in the faraway lands from their story books because it makes them feel better for a few hours," Alina retorted.

"You'd be surprised how much of myth is grounded in a kernel of truth," Kirigan murmured. He had sat down next to her, his focus for once on something other than her. She let him take the sketch from her lap.

"So then we should also be wary of water and forest spirits on our journey?"

"Don't let the Tidemakers hear you. It'll get back to Sofiya, and she pranks those who scoff at the sprites. On their behalf, apparently," Kirigan said with a laugh.

Alina shook her head and snorted as well. "Either way, none of this guarantees that the stag is out there. Maybe it died a long time ago."

"I have heard rumors of it for many, many years. You've seen it, and yes I count the dreams as good enough," Kirigan replied. "It's not a question of whether or not Ilya Morozova succeeded in creating it as it is a question of whether we can find it now or later. I have a good feeling about it this time. I really do."

"If you've been looking for it for a hundred years, doesn't that make it even less likely to be suddenly found now?"

He turned finally to look back at Alina. "I have also been waiting for a Sun Summoner for just as long. And now here you are. Why not also one of Morozova's amplifiers?"

"I take it you're not looking for it just for an academic interest, either," Alina pressed.

"Of course not. I didn't have a need for the stag before now. But a one of a kind amplifier of mythic origin? That would be an amplifier you are worthy of," Kirigan said. He passed her back the sketch, leaving Alina to once again stare at the oh-so-familiar swoops and arches of its crown of bone.

Alina could think about the amplifier only as an abstract concept, not as something where she would be involved. She had thought about the stag just as a creature, a curiosity, that cropped up in dreams and stories. Rectifying that history with the idea of it now also being a Grisha amplifier - an amplifier for her - it didn't seem right, did it?

She wanted to throw herself back onto the mattress and hide behind a pillow or something. Instead, Alina sighed. Another question wormed its way to the forefront of her mind as a result of their conversation. "Have you really been looking for me for a hundred whole years?" she asked quietly.

Kirigan grew quiet. Alina held her bottom lip between her teeth, not quite biting but perched ready to go.

"Do you want the easy answer?" She heard him finally ask. "I leave the decision to you. We can have the nice, simple status quo; get up, go and have a nice meal, and leave it be. Or you can have the truth, and you might end up changing your mind once and for all and sending us back to the Little Palace."

There was no laugh, no wry smile, no indication from Kirigan that this was just another joke between the two of them. He was earnestly offering her this chance to take the easy route back to comfortable and, dare she admit, fond conversation for tonight and the rest of their trip. But more importantly she was being given the option for the very trust that she had previously demanded at knifepoint.

She wasn't going to run away from it. Not this time.

Alina nudged her shoulder against his. "We've gotten along fine after all we've been through. I think we can handle a bit more truth without running back to Os Alta with nothing to show for ourselves," she said.

"If you really want to tell me whatever it is, I'll listen, Kirigan," For good measure, Alina wormed her fingers between his to tie their hands together. This time, she wasn't the one to visibly relax from the contact. The ghost of a smile grazed over Kirigan's face as the tension in his shoulders eased.

"Before we talk about this, I have one simpler truth for you," he said. "It doesn't seem fair that I still haven't shared with you my given name."

Alina lifted an eyebrow, feigning incredulity. "You mean it's not Pyotr? I'm aghast," she teased. She was glad that he wasn't launching right into whatever potentially upsetting answer to her question. Bringing back their comfortable banter would help both of them. Still, her stomach flipped at the thought of being one of perhaps very few who had the pleasure of knowing the Black General by his first name.

"Thank the Saints, no. It isn't Pyotr," Kirigan chuckled.

"Well?" Alina prompted when he paused once more.

"I haven't told anyone my name in a very long time. Give me a moment."

"Absolutely not. I'm running dangerously low on patience. Some Shadow Summoner used it all up on this extremely tedious trip that I dragged him on," Alina teased.

She was glad that she had one of his hands trapped so that he would have to struggle somewhat before calling his summoning to kill her. Kirigan tipped his head as he looked fondly at her. "I thought about telling you before. I'm not sure why I didn't or why I decided to wait in the end. I think I'm glad, though, to get to tell you now," he murmured.

His hand squeezed hers just once before relaxing enough to allow his thumb to start tracing patterns on her skin. They stopped as quickly as they started, and his expression turned pensive.

"My name is Aleksander," he said quietly. Alina's lips started to quirk in a grin as she thought back to the note he'd left this morning and the unknown initial. That was one question resolved.

He wasn't done talking yet though. Kirigan continued after a quick inhale.

"And I am the Black Heretic."