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Chapter 1
Author's note: My sincere apologies for the choppiness of the first chapter-it's a necessary evil to get everyone on the same page with the changes I made to the two episodes we start in…
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THE FORESTS OF NORTHERN RAVKA, CLOSE TO THE FJERDAN BORDER
Mal had volunteered to track Morozova's stag. He knew the drawing was hers the moment he saw it, and he knew-he knew, deep in his soul-that he could find it. That he was supposed to find it. For her.
After days of careful tracking, he had heard the high tone-Alina's tone-in the far reaches of the forest. In the midst of his grief, and shame, and panic, crouching over his fallen friends, the stag had appeared. The moment when all hope seemed lost was the exact moment it chose to reveal itself. The moment when he needed it the most, he was granted a connection to Alina. A calm wrapped itself around his grief, allowing him to feel the loss of his comrades but not be consumed by it.
In the hush of the snow, the stag approached, its footfalls making far less noise than Mal thought possible for an animal so massive. It came to a stop several paces away, as if waiting for something.
"Are you here to help me get back to her?" Mal asked quietly, not expecting an answer.
He was surprised when he was granted one.
The stag's instructions and the accompanying warning seemed to float up from Mal's memories, as if the information had been there all along. He knew the stag had just given him an order, as sure as if it had spoken it aloud.
And while it broke his heart to think about following it, he also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it needed to be done. The stag would not deceive him, and if Alina was to be safe, sacrifices would have to be made.
And he was willing to sacrifice just about everything for her.
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GENERAL KIRIGAN'S QUARTERS, THE PALACE
The slick air of superiority the general gave off as he walked into the room at the palace caused Mal to instantly despise him. Obviously this discussion was not going to be easy or straightforward. And when the Grisha that led him away attacked and tried to kill him, he was hardly surprised. Mal's opinion of Kirigan had already been cemented.
Once free of his captors, Mal stole quietly through the hallways he had been led down, retracing his steps back toward Kirigan's war room. He had no intention of challenging the general physically, but knowledge was always useful, and he wanted to be better armed with information when he eventually found Alina. Did she know what Kirigan was capable of?
Finding the doors locked was irritating, but not unexpected, and definitely not an immovable obstacle for Mal. In less than a minute he'd found a nearby window that slid open enough to allow him to slip out onto the narrow ledge that fed along the building to the war room's windows.
Gripping the stone wall with his fingertips, Mal slowly tilted his head to one side, peering into the room. As more of the room was visible, a couple came into view, tangled around each other-
His heart sank and a cold nausea swept over Mal as he recognized the woman in Kirigan's arms. Alina—her dark hair shining in the soft light—tilted her head, kissing him even deeper. In one swift move, Kirigan lifted her to sit on the table behind her as her hands tangled in the hair at the back of his neck. He pulled the collar of her kefta away from her neck and kissed down along her collar bone. She smiled and sighed, tossing her head back to grant him better access. Mal balked at the sight but nevertheless found himself unable to tear his eyes away. The skin on his arms prickled, and he felt a hollow anguish push all coherent thought from his mind-
Mal turned his face away, pressing his cheek to the cold stone wall in front of him. He pressed his body into the harsh edifice, concentrating on the strength and impassivity of the building. He stayed frozen, unmoving, as his brain began to race.
He had his instructions from the stag.
This changed nothing.
This may even… Mal swallowed against the tightness in his throat. This may even make it easier.
After warring with himself, he opened his eyes and peered again into the room, dreading what he might-
It was empty.
Mal hauled himself sideways, gripping the decorative ironwork of the window with his fingertips. No one was in the room. In a panic, his eyes searched the corners, the floor, but found no hint of movement.
"Shit-" he breathed, shoving himself backward along the precarious ledge. Rather than re-enter the palace through the window, Mal found a fairly sturdy pipe he hoped could hold his weight, and began to ease himself down the side of the building.
He had to find her.
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