Chapter Thirteen: The Gain of Slaughter
Alina Starkov was not steady on her feet. She swayed. The rocking of the ocean pushed her against walls, this way and that, stumbling up narrow, slippery stairs, bumping hips against edges of furniture. It fought against her while the rest of them – Aleksander included – carried on as if it were nothing at all.
Everywhere she went, someone had to catch her from falling.
She was the running joke of the ship. Crew members in the mess hall would grab her tray every time the room shifted because they knew it would be spilled across their floor if they didn't. A fact they learned firsthand, four times.
A man as firm footed and steady as Ivan adapted to the motion better than she did. It frustrated the already frayed nerves of the sun summoner. She'd scowl in his direction when he walked ahead through the corridors of the ship without struggle.
"I miss the way you were before." Alina said as she slapped away his extended hand – an anchor to some steadiness that she refused to take. "Before you were so attentive."
"My apologies, Miss Starkov. I'll try to restrain myself."
The journey was not all she dreamed it would be. All those years in the orphanage with Mal to dream of an endless horizon of water were wasted because it was nothing like what they pictured.
Ships were dirty and smelled dank. Everything was coated in some kind of slime. No matter how they scrubbed the wood boards that made the walls, deck, stairs and rails.
The only part of the ship that did not leave her as nauseous was the main deck. It was also the busiest part with the crew doing their assigned duties, not polite in their actions nor much mind paid to who they budged into on their way.
Alina gripped a secured rope that was knotted against the main mast. Her fingernails ached as the waves of the sea pulled her hand further from its secured hold, pulling the nails from their beds ever so slight but just enough to spring pain throughout her hand.
The True Sea was brutal. Its constant onslaught of waves against their keel and hull, the roar of the water as it breeched the sides and splashed on deck, the constant groan of winds around them. None of it was welcoming.
How the hell did Nikolai stand it? How could Tolya? His stomach was queasier than hers. Once she started to gag and it sent him running in the other direction for a pail.
"Thought nothing could catch you off-guard," Sturmhond – Prince Nikolai – joked.
Her boots, slipped out from beneath her a moment before, stomped back until her knees locked.
She growled in distaste as yet another spray of salty sea air blew in her face. "You might've warned how unstable this thing is."
"It's a ship, Sunshine, not a carriage. Thought a smarty kefta like yourself would know that."
Her nose wrinkled.
The view was breathtaking – when it wasn't coated in sea bird droppings or wet and cold. Water sloshed against the sides of the boat as it rocked in constant motion. Her stomach moved in a similar motion. It sent her vomiting.
Sturmhond complained of the ruining of his veneer on the wood. The twins snickered. Ivan offered her a napkin for her mouth and water to rinse out the taste.
The General was noticeably absent from the deck. He kept to the navigation charts with Privyet as they tried to locate the village Ostanki. It was right on the coast, if Nikolai's assumptions were correct. An old village. Along the Bone Road where the Sea Whip was cursed to swim for eternity.
It would be Alina's job to slay the beast amongst the mess of battle and the unsteady motion of the boat.
Her doubts in her ability grew. The sheer terror of open water and the thought of being dragged below its icy depths to be drowned and mourned by a mythical creature only added to her stomach tension. Sea sickness made an easy cover.
If they knew of her doubt, then they'd start to doubt her.
"Fancy another joust?" He lifted his brow in challenge. "Promise not to get you all wet."
She snorted derisively. "A promise you'd be happy to break, I'm sure."
He flashed a cheeky grin. It was all the swirling cheer in his eye could take. The sun, the sea, the smell of salt and damp in his nose. Prince Nikolai belonged out on the high seas on a ship. It suited him.
The sparkle in the corner of his eye or the belly laugh from deep inside himself emerged the moment they stepped on board. The palace prince was left far beyond him. Freedom to be, was all he needed.
"How about it?" His shoulder bumped hers playfully. A puppy eager for a ball to be thrown or a stick to be caught. "One round. Me and you."
"I'd be a fool to challenge you in a field of your own making," she stated. "You're accustomed to the ship. You'll be far steadier than I."
"Oh, aye. And you won't face a single challenger on their own soil, will you?"
Slaying a Sea Whip would take place at its advantage. The beast slithers amongst the icy waters as its home. She would still have to kill it, despite all that.
Alina swallowed thickly. "Take it easy on me, will you?"
It pleased him too much to swallow back his smile and agree to her terms. A bounce went to his step as he bounded the worn wooden stairs to the main deck. She followed, curious as to how they would navigate through all the ropes and rigging. However, Sturmhond's outline surpassed the main deck, instead climbed another set of stairs to the quarter deck where a man stood behind an intricate carved wooden wheel. Then after, another narrow stair upward to the back of the ship.
"This is the poop deck." Sturmhond gestured to the expanse around them on the stern of the ship.
She narrowed her eyes, certain he was teasing her.
"Seriously, that's what it called." He chuckled. "It's above the captain's quarters. My quarters, to be exact."
"Are you telling me that I'll have to tell everyone that I beat you on the poop deck?"
"Precisely." He playfully wrinkled his brow. "So even a win for you will not be satisfactory."
Alina let out a laugh. It carried on the wind downward to the rest of the ship.
"Alright, fine." She waved in defeat. "Choose your weapon."
He pulled a cutlass from his side. There was a slight curve in the blade. It caught the late morning light and glinted it against the striking blue of the ocean waters.
His scarred fingers wrapped around the hilt. "May the best saint win."
She snorted. "Pray tell, what are you the saint of? Rum and never-ending stories?"
That retort earned a very large laugh from his large mouth. It spread through the air. The smell of salt did not reek so strong with his joy around them.
Alina took her stance. Hands started behind her back. Nikolai had instructed starting in different positions since not all fights were fair and prompted.
"You were keen to leave out handsome. I'd hate for your General to hear you fancy me."
It was not easy to joust to keep a straight face when she faced off with him, especially when his mouth ran at a million miles a minute in search of anything to prick her anger, encourage her forth in attack. The challenge was what excited him. The green of his eyes grew wide with excitement when she sent a single shimmering arrow of light at his thigh.
The fabric sliced, but the flesh below remained uncut.
Her lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Oops. You didn't fancy those pants, did you?"
The pirate – privateer by his correction – shook his head and brandished his sword. "I'll never complain when a lady touches my trousers."
Alina groaned and set more shards of light in his direction. He evaded each. His dance, silly and quick, was no less agile. It was the dance they both played as they warmed themselves up. Sturmhond swung his sword in a slow manner as the ship rocked them back toward his side of the ship.
She felt her legs side-step, setting off her attack. It went into the wide open of the sea waters.
He swung back again. It was close. A ball of light formed on her hand as she swung it toward the blade, deflecting the blade away from her body and sending Sturmhond back a few steps after the large weapon.
This time he lunged with the blade straight forward. It aimed for her center.
Her hands turned to orbs of glowing light. She reached out and forced the blade upward, only narrowly missing the soft flesh of her cheek in the process.
He stepped back to allow her a moment. Her breath was exaggerated. The rocking of the ship was strong, as was the churning of her stomach.
"Not used to a girl repelling your advances?" She flashed a grin through a long breath.
He chortled. His booming volume across the entire ship and answering rupture of waves.
Despite its quaking and noise and damp and sickness-inducing, the True Sea was beautiful.
"I'm starting to take it personally."
They moved back to their starting positions. The start of another round.
This time, he attacked quicker. His motions were precise in their action, where they aimed, what it would require of her. His blade swung back and forth. At times, he switched and thrusted it forward.
After a while, the cutlass was retired. It was the weapon she had the most practice with.
A set of throwing stars were pulled from a wooden coffer. It was carved with intricate designs of interlocking pattern, like chains, all around its warm wood body.
The throwing stars were sharp as daggers in each of its six edges. They caught the light.
"These are something I acquired years ago."
She raised a brow. "Acquired. Such a fancy way to say stole."
He thought to say something clever. His lips were already twisted in a delighted smile when his eyes ghosted over her shoulder to the side. Something retracted from the light of his eye.
Alina felt a change in the air. The poop deck stained with a strength that soured the light mood.
She spun on toe. The General stood on the last step. His black kefta and cloak a dense shadow compared to the light of the ship. He was neatly trimmed and washed. The shine in his hair was not of days of stress, but hair oil from a morning shower.
He did well to keep himself restrained. The grip on the wood railing spoke to the strength of his displeasure in Prince Nikolai.
"Taking in the view?" He asked.
The tone was commendable for the effort. It was left without too sharp of an edge.
Alina gave a small gesture toward the pirate prince. "Prin- uh, Sturmhond has offered to give me some lessons in combat."
His eyes shot to the throwing stars in his hands. A panic twisted the darkened pools of his calm.
"Combat training is dangerous," he stated. The implication of her pregnancy all but shouted for them all to hear. "You are too important to be haphazardly dueled."
Sturmhond stepped forward. His large boots vibrated the boards under their feet.
Aleksander took view of the prince with great displeasure. He did not like the man's overstepping in her training. It was unsafe. That was the reason all her physical training stopped at Little Palace.
"Sunshine has learned some tricks since we started," he stated. It was the least taunting in his words that she heard. The man loved to instigate the General whenever he had the chance. An ego battle, of sorts. Yet now, he was respectful when he regarded the man. "She's gotten quite good. That trick in the Fold. That was one of her techniques she learned a few days before we departed."
The General looked at Alina, perhaps surprised she hadn't told him she expanded her powers.
"She's not been hurt during your lessons?" He questioned.
Sturmhond shook his head. "She's pretty nimble. Rejects my advances every chance she gets."
Now that was meant to rustle up the General's noble feathers.
The General remained unflustered much to the prince's chagrin. He looked to her with quiet contemplation. Though, through their bond, his thoughts slithered their way into her mind.
You don't have to learn this. I can protect you.
Sturmhond didn't bother to wait; he turned back to face Alina. "Let's show him your trick with these throwing stars."
He walked to his side of the ship. The General climbed the last step onto the deck. His presence a strong pull to her side. It grew deeper and darker the longer she focused on his presence.
It would distract her if he kept it up.
There may be a time where I might have to protect you. She whispered through the bond. Let me show you how capable I am.
Aleksander's voice came back. I know how capable you are. It is not you that I doubt. But the risk to our child.
They will never be without risk. She was firm. Might as well learn now.
The bond was slammed closed.
Her power was great. She was someone important. A saint, the savior of Ravka.
The future of all Ravka, the Grisha, all hope for Aleksander's happiness rested with her. Her. It had to be her that wielded strength. If she was to deliver the crown for his taking and end the Fold once and for all, Alina had to be a hardened warrior with her power. The light, her only weapon.
The threats to Aleksander were stronger than hers. People loved her. She was the one who was foretold to save them from the merzost. The Black General scared them. He was strong and cloaked in shadow, and the mere knowledge of his ability had people ready to stake him for being a shadow summoner. It was not against natural thought to believe there would be people after him.
General Zlatan was poised to battle General Kirigan. There were people already sent to murder her, and no doubt him if given the chance.
Alina feared there would come a time when it would be her that had to protect him from the devils of the world, and she had – HAD – to be ready for them.
"I had you good and frustrated last time, didn't I?" Her opponent snickered. "Perhaps we should get a dialogue going to ensure you don't let these slice you open."
The General tensed at the comment. His breath inhaled sharp through his nostrils.
"Are you certain you don't just wish to hear yourself talk?" She retorted.
Strumhond's massive lips sloped in a drastic frown. "Hey. I'm the one who needs to have the witty comments. You just have to stand there and get angry at me."
"Already there," she called out. "It's quite easy when I remember all the stories of your exploits."
The man was known for his raunchy stories and endless self-gratification with hours of ego stroking and jokes about all his many prowess's.
"How about you share one of your exploits then?" Something animated to life in his eye. He'd found something to rile her. It rippled through his body in excitement. "Starting with that General. What'd you have to do to get under that kefta?"
Aleksander went rigid at the railing. His knuckles white.
Alina was equally shocked that he said what he said. It was not common knowledge. She knew that they suspected it, and she'd told Nikolai, but the implication that it was a secret thing was beyond him. He knew that it was not to be mentioned.
Which is why he used it at the right moment to aid him.
The throwing stars left his hands a moment later.
Alina had to blink to regain her concentration. She'd been concerned by Aleksander's reaction that her focus left the weapons.
The throwing stars neared her body. She felt Aleksander's tensions rise up the longer they traveled through air without her stopping them.
Her mind attuned to each spinning blade. Their circle, shimmer of golden day light throughout their edge, filled her mind. Their motions became one within her power.
She allowed herself swallowed by the focus. The blade, it became light. It was her light.
Each star was surrounded by her power. Their little bodies, total light, under her control.
The circle slowed. She filled her mind with direction. Opposite.
The blades caught against her power and launched back toward him. They clattered against the wooden deck before they could slice her opponent.
He smirked up at the General, all too pleased with himself for finding her button to illicit such power.
"Very good, Sunshine."
Aleksander blinked through the disbelief to find some semblance of serene. "Sunshine?"
Strumhond nodded. "Cause she's a little ray of sunshine, isn't she? Ah. Look at that face. Just makes you wanna smile when you see that scowl."
Her face fell to that very scowl he loved to admire like the glittering rays of morning sun.
"How?" The General eased himself off the railing. "How did you know to teach her that?"
"By throwing some hatchets at her."
Aleksander paled. His motions paused. The impression that they'd done some kind of secret Grisha training left his mind the moment he saw that it was not done under any attempt other than to protect herself. An instinct.
"She learned how to redirect a blade by being almost impaled by one," was the further explanation. "I find that under pressure is when your mind clears all the bullshit away so you can awaken that instinct. I imagined Grisha were under the same circumstance. Miss Starkov was under the threat of death before she revealed her power. It was under the same thinking."
"And if she'd been unable to deflect them?"
He shrugged. "We operate under the assumption of success. And she is stronger than she looks. I had no doubt in her, otherwise I wouldn't have thrown them." His shoulder nudged Alina playfully. "Did you show him your stinging arrows?"
Aleksander's brow fell in curiosity. "Stinging arrows?"
His eyes jumped to Alina. It felt rather a sad inquiry as if she'd kept it from him on purpose.
Strumhond exposed the upper portion of his shoulder. A thin, dark line of scar tissue right at the top of his muscle. "It stung like hell when she shot it at me. And it took hours for that damn sparkle to fade from the wound. Mighty hard to hide it from below my shirt when it was glowing like a lantern under there."
Alina frowned. "I really didn't mean to hurt you."
"No, no. It was brilliant." He turned back to the General. "She creates it all on the spot. She'd never made those arrows before. Just happened when she got angry and shot them at me. It was incredible."
The General was increasingly interested in the story. He absorbed every ounce of information he was given.
Finally, he looked back at her. A curious expression throughout him. More so, their bond was overcome with curiosity and excitement. She felt him leeching that, without control. It was an unprompted flow into her.
"I imagine this the explanation for your disappearances in Little Palace," he stated. "You were training."
Alina nodded.
The last days in Little Palace before their departure were tense. They had been locked in a battle of silence. It'd been lonely without Grisha training or Aleksander to talk to. She'd needed to burn through the intense feelings from her ongoing tension with the General, and Nikolai had an outlet that worked well.
Aleksander stood in quiet contemplation. HIs brow lifted as he considered a thought. His head tilted as he imagined it – whatever was on his mind – and it was a great one with the haze that formed through his eyes.
Sturmhond shifted his weight. "I need some new weapons if I'm going to keep dueling you, Sunshine."
"Perhaps if you were Grisha, you'd stand a chance."
The idea clicked inside Aleksander's face. It lifted him from his thoughts.
"It seems you are in need of a new dueling partner," the General lifted his chin. He gestured toward her spot on the deck.
Her lips pursed together and twisted as she considered what he meant.
"Take your stance," he instructed.
"Against who?"
A line of steps clicked across the deck. A dark cloak tossed from his shoulders down to the railing.
Aleksander took the position opposite her. "Let's see how that light fares against my shadow, lapushka."
Surges of thrill laced through her palms. Flickers of light flooded her body as she restrained visibly bursting with joy to have been given a true opportunity to fight another set of abilities that outshined a blade. Thought of his age, his training, and the honed edge of his shadows failed to break through.
Ever since her return to Little Palace, Aleksander treated her as a porcelain doll too precious to play with.
Alina was more than a doll. Not so easily broken and lost. Her body was that of bone and flesh. It held the very spirit of her soul inside every molecule, unyielding and withstanding. No one would conquer her without fight. It would be done with bloody torture, a fight to the end with the last ounce of life in her fingers would it reign through her.
She took her stance. Palms raised.
An opponent like Aleksander was only done with readiness. He was not one to attempt unfocused.
He stood with his hands clasped at his back. The burning fire inside his eye challenged her to attack.
It was different to find that fire under the adoring gaze of the man she cuddled with at night. Though that emotion found strength inside her, from that well inside her, and all at once, her palms glowed with her power.
Her fingers straightened and nestled close to each other as she thrust her right hand forward. Shards of light turned to arrows as they cut through the air.
A noticeable whistling split the air as they centered upon Aleksander's chest.
Darkness, like smoke, leapt from his feet to cover his entire length in the flowy protection of the black. The arrows sliced through the shadow; their whistling stopped the moment they breeched.
Alina stood wide-eyed as only black smoke stood in an sphere at the other end of the deck. She looked at the captain with concern. Even he peered with uncertainty.
Suddenly the black smoke dropped to the ground. Aleksander stood, unharmed.
"Those are stronger than I expected." His brows were high on his face. There was smug satisfaction in his tone.
Breath rushed back to Alina's lungs. Her heart, still, trembled in place at the thought of hurting him.
"Show me again?"
They spent the day at the deck. Over and over, Aleksander had her attack him with every muscle in her body until she was so tired, she could barely summon light. His total amazement when those brilliant rays of light sped toward him gave her discomfort to witness.
The thought that he'd gladly be speared with the sun rather than live in the dark vexed the pure comfort they'd created while on their journey.
That night Alina laid in bed next to his slumbering heat, sweat beaded on her brow, questioning whether there was cause for concern in his love of something opposite himself. She considered what it took to be afraid of what powers surged at his beckon call, how frightening it was to know the strength of emotion could bring others to harm and the fear that laced through people when they discovered the truth within him.
He feared the shadows. He feared the darkness of himself.
Something made that fear. A scar on him, permanent and unyielding to the healing of time.
Baghra was a likely suspect. Considering she was the only one with a similar skill that had power over him.
It was true that there was no love lost between the pair. Their relationship sounded rocky and filled with strife at their centuries of persecution, their powers being hunted the most.
Though, he did not fear Baghra now. He was stronger than any other Grisha before him. If the fear was of his mother, he'd no longer be concerned with his darkness when he knew that he was the strongest there was, and no one could suffocate what he controlled.
She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but that thing inside of him, scared her.
If there came a time where she became so blinded by her own power, she'd expect Aleksander to end it. That was true love. To prevent her from turning into something she despised, it would be him that would be the last defense against the world.
How could she rely on him when he, too, was so dazzled by the light?
The next day she was trapped below deck under the threat of hail that rained down from the skies, along with the scraping winds and rocking ocean waves. The storm that surrounded them violently assaulted the ship.
Aleksander was trapped in the wheelhouse with the captain Sturmhond. A spread of charts and maps all in their concentration.
She would have been present if she hadn't been running for a pail every other moment to retch up her breakfast.
Ivan kept her company. He watched her vomit her guts into a bucket, offered a cloth to wipe her mouth, and tossed the contents over the rail. The red kefta was twice its weight under the soaking retention of rainwater and a deep burgundy now.
The last time he returned in from the storm with an empty bucket, she felt so guilty that she used her light to dry his kefta until it no longer weeped onto the floor.
"I'm sorry." She groaned from the mess of blankets wrapped around her body.
The ship was drafty. It felt so cold below the deck. When the storm picked up, it forced sprays of frigid sea water to lower the temperatures to unbearable degrees.
Visible clouds of her breath escaped her lips every other minute. A spare shudder or two trembled against her spine.
Aleksander had slipped two pairs of wool socks on her feet the night prior just to give some sensations back to their little muscles.
The Heartrender dropped the pail back in the corner. "No need to apologize, Miss Starkov. It is not your fault."
Another tilting of the entire cabin had a strong wave of nausea hit her head. She fell back against her pillows to quiet the raging urge to vomit once again.
"No. It is his," she hissed in total bitterness.
Ivan settled back into his seat. "I suppose it is."
She groaned aloud. Saying it did not lessen her discomfort.
The sea swayed the ship in its hold. One way, the another. Side to side. It was not so bad when she laid flat on the bed. The sensations felt nice, actually. But the moment she raised to her elbows, she was hit with the strongest urge to vomit all over herself.
Her black kefta hanged against the far wall. It was too taut to stand. The more it pressed against her belly, the easier it was to spew all her meals back into creation.
"We will be there soon," Ivan said, in hopes it would reassure her. The dwindling time of having to endure the sea sickness. "The General believes within the next couple days we will find the village."
Hope, gone.
"That could still mean a week of searching after we find the village." She ground the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. "It could be weeks still at sea. By the way it is going, I might give birth on this ship."
The Heartrender did not find her attempt at amusement, amusing.
"It will end soon enough. We just have to endure, as we've done all this time."
The lack of his empathy underwhelmed her sympathy for his puke clearing duties. In fact, it infuriated her.
"I can't be like the General. I cannot endure in silence."
Her stomach sloshed and churned. The room moved and moved her organs inside. The poor child that grew inside probably was sick from all the swirling it was doing within its womb. It kicked more and more often. The strength, astounding.
Although, not surprising when its father was considered.
"Silence is a weapon," the man explained, "one wielded by the mightiest."
Her eyes opened to the lazy dim of the candle lantern. "Are you saying I am not mighty because I speak?"
He leaned against the back of his chair. It creaked, the old wood. "Only a mere suggestion of a skill to learn." His eyes glanced down at his fingernails. He picked and pulled at the flesh around them. "You have an expressive face. What you do not say, you reveal anyway. Your vulnerabilities, exposed with each. It gives your enemies an advantage they shouldn't have. The General is silent to protect all those who depend on him. The risk is too great to speak haphazardly."
Alina fought that illness in her mind to face the man bold enough to command her a thing.
"People fear him. They do not allow him close," Ivan explained before she was forced to ask. "You. You are trusted. You are sun and light and goodness and hope. The savior of Ravka. People want to be in your company. It amplifies your vulnerabilities. And also, your opportunities."
Her forehead wrinkled in thought. "My opportunities for what?"
"To learn theirs."
"After the Fold…" Her voice was hesitant. Something in his expression read that he knew what she planned to do. Somehow, he felt it. "You mean."
"The Fold will not be the end of it all."
A sudden rumbling split through the ship. Their bodies were tossed. The boat moved as if it'd run aground. Ivan flew from his chair onto the floor. The blankets cushioned Alina's sudden collision with the wall before she toppled over onto the floor.
Her head hit against the bed's frame as she landed. She sucked in a breath through her teeth in a hiss.
The Heartrender lifted his head. A trickle of blood dripped from his nose. "Miss Starkov. Are you injured?"
She raised up, hairs fallen, and her vision blurred. She shuttered a heavy blink to rectify the watercolors of her gaze back to sharpness. "No," she breathed.
"Your pulse is fast," he commented.
She ignored his question. Her forehead lowered back to the wood of the frame.
"What do you think that was?"
For some reason, her bones recognized that sinking feeling in her stomach. It was not the bottom of the sea nor an iceberg that scraped down their side.
Something else groaned against their ship. Inhuman and old. Very old.
The hairs down the length of her arms raised. Beating of her heart throbbed in fear.
Alina still wore one of Aleksander's shirts overtop of one of her thin undershirts. It billowed against her thin frame as she slipped her feet into a pair of boots.
Ivan rose to his feet, scrambling after her as she fled through the door.
"Miss Starkov. Miss – stop! Alina!"
His shouts drowned behind her.
The wind rushed to greet her as she stepped out into the dense cover of icy rain. The clouds were dark, thick and black, with their bellies filled with an unstoppable pouring.
Her trousers were too thin for the reaching chill in the air. She was only grateful for the second layer of the fabric over her top half. It kept a shred of warmth throughout her torso against the dripping cold.
The deck was silent. Those who worked at their stations on the ship were deathly still. Eyes, widened, as the sounds on the wind filled their ears.
A deep rumbling of a growl as it slipped around the ship, every direction filled with its noise, a reminder that it held the upper hand against them.
The large silhouette at the wooden wheel differed from the usual man at the helm.
The wily red hairs were blown back at the force of the gusts as he gripped the steering wheel with all his might.
Strands of her long ebony locks fluttered at the edges of her vision. It teased and taunted. She tied them into a taut knot no matter how much it pained her scalp.
It was time.
The quaking of her palms struggled at the final cinch of tightness to her hair. The strands tensed and pulled.
Her eyes caught with the captain's gaze from across the massive deck. She was nearer the bow. The source of their impact.
"Sunshine!" Sturmhond pointed ahead in confirmation, as if to say, "Go get it."
The booming voice filled in the air despite the constant patter of raindrops.
Aleksander emerged through the darkness of a nearby doorway and stepped into the rain nearer the man at the helm. Eyes torn in confusion as he looked down to find her in the shadow of the reckoning storm.
A thunder of a guttural sound echoed around them. Animistic and ancient. The calling of something from inside her, inside him, too, like the whispering of power laced within its sound.
She casted a glance at the bow. The creature was near. The resolution of her duty surged up within her.
Aleksander shook his head. His feet sent him forward, after her. The shape of his mouth slacked to a large 'O'.
"Alina!" The wind carried the calling of her name like a whisper against the might of the sea.
She surpassed the shrouds to the very tip of the ship. At the beak, she watched over the dark waters. A rippling through the surface.
Her hands gripped the figurehead as the waters changed to icy white below the ship.
Until she realized.
It was a beast. It moved through the water as a snake did grass, the white underbelly below the ship like a sheet of ice.
Through the quaking tops of waves, she saw a face. It was able to illicit a gasp from her lips.
A pair of eyes stared up through the waters. Unbroken in their gaze up at her. It remained below the surface of the cold waters, staring straight into her soul.
Orbs of pure red.
Pressure gripped her shoulders. They pulled her back from the edge.
Alina fell back against Aleksander's body in the thin beak. An answering shrill growl shook the ship from the bottom, up.
"What were you thinking?" His arms held tight to her body.
Two of his hands found her ribs. Flat palms lifted and raised her upward, to another strong grasp. It was Ivan. He yanked her back over the thin railing to the safety of the deck. Aleksander hopped over as Ivan ensured Alina was not falling overboard. He gave her a secured rope to hold.
A wall of icy white scales scraped against the hull. The curved divots of the spine tops with golden spines with thin, slippery flesh between.
Alina watched in total loss at the enormity of the beast.
Cannons in the gun ports slammed against their restraints as the Sea Whip ran along the side.
"Take her back below," Aleksander instructed Ivan.
The Heartrender gripped her arm.
She glared up at the Darkling, now in her way. "No. I have to fight."
"We'll handle it until it is exhausted." He planted a kiss against her cheek. "Please. I won't be able to focus with you out here."
The wind carried the orders of the captain. The pirates all assembled with their weapons. A long-hooked spear rested in Tamar's hands. She gripped the wooden spear, teeth gritted in a fearsome scowl.
"I should be out here," she reasoned. "It is my job to slay the beast. I have to do it myself."
The assault started. Weapons were tossed at the impenetrable scales. Cannons loosed their balls with the hopes they might damage the beast that withstood centuries of pirate attacks.
None of them would make a difference.
"Please. You need my help," she cried louder against the growing growls of the beast.
Aleksander shook his head. The inability to release control, for even a minute, spread throughout his face. A wave of stoic determination set through. Darkness melded to strong stone. "Forgive me, lapushka."
Ivan pulled her down to the deck door. It led back down to the depths of the ship to keep them out of harm's way.
Alina fought against his hold. "I have to go help him. Let me go! Did you see it? They don't stand a chance."
"The General gave his orders."
"The General is conflicted! He doesn't know what he's doing."
Another rumbling shook the ship. The wood groaned and creaked at the effort to remain.
Cries of those over their heads were all Alina heard. The battling of a creature that was not for their benefit. It was hers, and hers alone, to conquer.
"Think of the General," he said as he dragged her back to her room. "You and his child out against that beast. He needs you stowed safe."
Heartrender's had incredible power. They were able to stop hearts at a distance. The full grip against her arm only gave him easier access to her pulse, and the ability to slow it to the point of unconsciousness. Any attack would have to be instant.
And there would be an attack.
Alina refused to isolate herself in safety while others died in her place.
They ducked below a pair of thick metal pipes through a small corridor. Alina dipped lower than Ivan. She quickly lifted her back into him and drove his body – namely his neck – against the pipe.
The full weight of his body fell against her as he went out cold.
Alina dragged him to a safe cabin where nothing would fall and crush him in his unconscious state and ran back to the deck. A leather coat hanged on a nail near the ascending stairs. She placed it overtop her shoulders, the ship quaking at another attack of the Sea Whip.
Salt. It burned against her eyes as she stepped back into the chaos.
Sturmhond was at the wheel. His cutlass held in his arm. The tail would often swing in his direction and left him fighting away its powerful extremity to keep control of the ship. One slip would send them all to an icy death.
Scales scratched against him. One flick pushed him against the wheel. A line of red was left on the porcelain scales as they dragged along his back, sending a booming yell from his lips. His shirt and coat removed of his back, all smeared from the blood leeching from his skin.
The moving bodies. They filled every space on the deck as they fought for their lives.
She searched for Aleksander through the whipping cover of the dense rain. Her eyelashes filled with droplets, making it harder and harder to see through the darkness of the storm. However, she knew to find something darker. Darker than anything around her.
It was at the front of the attack. His shadows lashed out against the sides as others attempted to pry up the white scales before the Sea Whip moved and sent them flying over the railing.
The Cut. A staggering attack at Aleksander's disposal, by far the most powerful of Grisha ability, made no injury against the scaled body.
One swipe of the deck sent Alina reeling for cover against the side as others were lost to it and dragged back into the sea waters to drown. Their lungs filled with salt water, through the rising panic, the frozen nature of their bodies as they were forced to live through it until death released them from its icy claws.
The beast lurked over the main deck in a great shadow. It's head above the clouds, seemingly looking down at them as if they were nothing but ants to it.
Red eyes examined every motion. Every body was noticed. It used such focus to attack them with precision. It was only by Aleksander's shadow blocking that prevented a more devastating loss throughout the crew. The creature did not break through the black flickering smoke. All those within the General's cover were protected from the beast's onslaught.
It did little to aid its death. Only to prevent their own.
Along the tail went those long spines connected with thin translucent flesh. The mighty pirate body that Prince Nikolai resided in released the wheel as the whip of the Sea Whip's tail traveled closer. Both hands placed at the hilt of his cutlass.
In an action of pure precision, he leapt forward and stabbed his weapon through the flesh that bound the golden fin spines to the creature.
It screeched a hollow cry of pain as the blade sliced through.
Alina saw the fury appear through the beast's red eyes. A burning need to kill them all. Its long neck lowered, intent for the captain who finally punctured its body, with the need to swallow him whole.
Nikolai stayed held in position. As long as the creature was anchored to the deck, it could not use its tail to swipe them into the raging sea.
The Sea Whip bared its teeth. It readied to eat.
There was only weakness of the Sea Whip that was ever documented: beautiful women. It spent its life searching for one who withstand the icy depths to live in happiness with it.
Breath left her lungs. The frantic kicking of the child in her abdomen only amplified the fear.
She knew what she had to do. Her heart pounded as she ran to the foremast. She climbed up through the ropes to the fighting top halfway up the mast as the wind pushed her back and forth without a care who it aided.
The fighting top was a small platform with a thigh level railing, just strong enough to prevent a strong wind from pushing a person overboard, but not much else. She stood tall over the ship, the watery waves that grew in number every minute, the slippery length of the Sea Whip. It all pushed her harder. The edge to cascade to a frigid death in the arms of a sea creature.
Her eyes closed. A long breath taken.
An orb of brightness rivaled the strength of the sun as she reached it out toward the beast. It ignited the entire deck of the ship in a golden glimmer.
It caught the beast's attention. The gold overtook its eyes. The redness became entranced by her light. And her face.
"That's right," she murmured. "Come closer."
Her powers lifted the heavy cloud cover from their minds. Light, and fight now alive. The crew on deck were lost in the dazzle of her powers. It filled all their eyes with the sun she held in her hands. All except Aleksander were blinded to the surge of her powers.
His face twisted in horror. Her, above their heads, luring the beast. It was every fear he knew, right before him. He was forced, though, to defend against the beast's body as it tried to climb further on board, closer to her.
A thick shadow leapt up against half of its body. Only, it was not thick enough to break its armor.
The Sea Whip met Alina's gaze. It came closer, forgetting its incapacitated tail and the steady assault against its body.
All care of everything was lost to the enchantment of her stare. The blinding warmth of her power to its eyes as she held it in grand display, like a gift, for it to behold.
"I'm yours," her lips murmured. "Come claim me."
The mighty head of the beast leveled with the small platform she stood on. The mighty terror it reaped on her inside was instantaneous. It knew horror. It knew pain. All of which it caused.
Alina forced her breath calm. She forced herself steady as it came nearer.
She planned on using its closeness to transform her ball of light into an arrow through its eye. Whether it would kill it or not was not something she considered. Only hoped it would render it weaker.
The moment she blinked, it was close. Close enough. She saw the blood vessels in the whites of it eyes. A ripe foul smell from within its mouth gusted against her face. They became watery. She staggered, side stepping in disgust.
"Alina!"
She heard it ripple through the wind, but it was so far away. So far away from her. As was everything else.
The beast. It was right there. If she were to reach out her arm a little farther and she'd run across its snout.
A soft cooing noise came from its nose. It exhaled, a gentle welcome, a lure to it.
Come live with me. Under the sea. Away from all the fighting and the pain. Come away and forget it all.
Alina paused. Her strength waivered as the animal turned to a sorrowful soul trapped in the confines of a monster, not an unfamiliar emotion. The orb lowered its glare. Warmth, not so dense in the air.
Suddenly she was draped in a cloak of shadow.
The Sea Whip's eyes grew wide. A growl roared through its mouth.
Aleksander stood at her side, blocking them both from its path. A smokey cloud of shadow all around their bodies.
"No!" She shouted. "We have to kill it."
She used her light to battle out Aleksander's shadow. It splintered through the cracks of his black.
"Don't, Li." Aleksander was under the strain. He forced his powers thicker around them. "It will take you."
Her light broke through the denser shadows. He groaned as his powers fought against hers.
"Trust me," she pleaded. "I can kill it."
The wind whipped by them. The whip had used its head to hit against Aleksander's shadows.
The mast shuddered. A hit harder might split it in two.
"It's going to tear the ship apart!" Alina screamed. "Let me do this."
His powers rendered powerless to the growing of her light. Shadows banished from around them. They were sent out to die in the water around them. Her orb, brighter still.
The Sea Whip fumed as it stared at Aleksander. It growled. The look of pure loathing through the red.
Aleksander's palms raised, ready to attack it with all he had.
The creature opened its mouth to show its teeth. The pink pearl sheen to its mouth caught Alina's notice. She saw the tender flesh inside its mouth like a blaring target mark for her to use.
Aleksander answered back a frightening noise, a rivaling call of dominance.
The Sea Whip tensed. The cracking of the railing on the side of the ship brought fear to the back of their throats. Too much weight of its body, as it came closer, could send the wooden boards to splinters, all of them lost.
It riled higher. The growing need to show its might.
The mouth parted again; a terrifying sound formed at the back of its throat to rival Aleksander's claim over what the beast believed its mate.
The idea filled Alina before she thought it through. She reached over and grasped Aleksander's hand as she transformed the light to an oversized arrow aimed straight at the back of the Sea Whip's mouth.
It flew through the air before the animal knew to react. The slunk of flesh as it sliced open from her power, the glittering remnants of light deposited into the soft tissues, until it reached a hard crunch. The eyes of the creatures went wide. It swayed in the wind, now weak to the growing wishes of the sea.
A final darkness went through its eyes. Its long neck fell back to the sea.
The ship rocked suddenly at the leaving of its weight on deck. Only one piece of it remained.
Sturmhond's cutlass remained buried in the deck boards. The flesh of the tail stuck within its grasp. The overall weight of the creature as it fell to the deep-sea floor pulled against the entire ship, tilting them. Alina and Aleksander grasped the mast behind them, fearing a plunge over the top's railing.
Finally, the dead limb of the beast released. Muscles of the tail severed, a bloody spray the result of the split through the corpse.
The ship rocked back the other way. Waves splashing loudly against the hull. The entire crew thrown off their feet onto their backs, tangled in ropes, or, like Alina and Aleksander, into a mess of limbs of another person.
The large pirate captain was coated in the thick red with the bottom edge of the Sea Whip's tail laid at his feet.
He spat out a stream of red from his mouth. "Not the worst thing that's burst into my mouth."
Alina grimaced. Her head lowered back to Aleksander's shoulder.
"Gross," she murmured.
The man below her remained still and silent. His eyes looked high above his head. The parting of the clouds to a dreary grey sky.
Her fingers ran down the sharp edge of his cheekbone. It brought his dark gaze to hers.
Their closeness to defeat lived at the forefront of their thoughts. The shudder of survival over such intense fear.
His hands gripped onto her arms, unwilling to release her from his hold. The probing need of him pounded at their locked bond, prying and clawing, until it broke through to wrap around her soul, the bond of her to him. Shadows ceased to spread around them. The anchor of their souls together, the image of their split only from imagination.
The faraway glaze in his darkened pools ruptured the serene of that survival.
She raised herself above him. Eyes leveled with his own. The question now throughout her mind.
What is it, Alek?
There was only silence that answered back.
Alina grabbed ahold of his shoulder and again asked, only this time it was aloud. "Hey. Talk to me. What is wrong?"
"You protected me," he blurted.
The shock in his voice cut her deeply. It wounded all that adored him with all her soul.
"Of course, I did," she retorted angrily.
"You used my powers to protect me."
"It was my only choice," she answered, hurt.
She loved Aleksander with all that she was. The loyalty to him, what she would do for him…
If he did not understand it by now, there was no hope.