Disclaimer: I don't own the Grisha Trilogy and its characters – it belongs to Leigh Bardugo. I do not own the Shadow & Bone TV series, which was developed by Eric Heisserer for Netflix and based on Leigh Bardugo's books. Any recognisable dialogue is from the books or TV show – some lines may be included verbatim, others in an amended form.
Learning
"I hear you performed the Cut."
Alina nodded. She didn't smile or feel proud – the Cut was certainly an achievement, but the circumstances under which she had acted were not ones she wanted to think of.
"Hmmph," Baghra said, "well, at least you're not gloating like the boy would. You may have managed once in a time of great need, as many Grisha children often perform above their usual skill level in moments of danger, but you have a long way to go before you will be able to repeat such a feat consistently under normal circumstances."
"I … I didn't like it," she admitted quietly.
Baghra's eyes widened ever so slightly. She seemed almost pleased at Alina's words, though.
"While I'm glad you aren't picking up on the boy's habit of using the Cut so cavalierly, it is something you should learn to wield properly."
The way Baghra talked about the Darkling was almost scandalous in its irreverence. She rarely called him anything except 'boy' and on the few occasions he had visited her hut while Alina had been having a lesson, Baghra had treated him almost as if he was one of her students rather than the General of the Second Army and the country's most powerful Grisha.
The odd thing was that the Darkling just accepted her behaviour with a roll of his eyes or an irritated frown, despite the fact that Baghra was the only Grisha that Alina ever saw treating the Darkling with anything less than respect.
Alina spent the next hour trying to form a blade of light similar to the one she had used against the Drüskelle.
She had minimal success.
Alright, she had no success at all.
Baghra didn't appear to be particularly surprised, thankfully not deeming it necessary to whack Alina on the shin with her cane to try and motivate her.
"We'll try again next time," the old woman told her, "and absolutely no attempting to practice on your own. The last thing we need is the Sun Summoner slicing herself in half by accident."
Alina left in quite a good mood. She did want to learn to use the Cut properly eventually, but she didn't really mind if it took time.
She still had nightmares occasionally about the way she had sliced her attacked in half the day the Drüskelle had infiltrated the Little Palace Grounds. She accepted that she had acted in self-defence, but what had happened still disturbed her.
She loved her light, but sometimes what she could do scared her a little. The Darkling and her other instructors had always taught her that Grisha power was a wonderful gift, but she still worried a little about the cost.
There would always be deaths in war, but she didn't want to reach a point where she killed without care.
One of the things she feared most was that she might eventually lose herself.
"I'm free! I'm free!"
"You haven't snuck a glass or five of kvas, have you?" Genya asked suspiciously, "because if that's the case then you should definitely have been sharing."
"No more Fjerdan," Alina crowed, "I'm finally free."
"Ah, I should have known that was what all the excitement was about. Are you continuing on with Shu?"
She nodded, "Botkin promised to help me with it. We've been working on my accent recently and I really think it's improving."
"What about the others?"
"Marie is carrying on with Fjerdan and starting to learn Kerch. Nadia is keeping Shu like me and also starting Kerch. Some of the students are learning Suli too, but Marie and Nadia insist it's a dead language and there's no use. I'll stick with just Shu – Saints knows it's more than enough for me."
"Has your schedule changed in any other ways?" Genya asked.
Alina nodded. At fourteen the students began to specialise even further, dropping certain classes and starting new ones.
"Baghra only wants to see me three times a week now, rather than five. I'm supposed to practice on my own the other two days, although Fedyor said he'd be training with me whenever he was at the Little Palace – he won't tell me what we're doing, though."
"Well, it's Fedyor, so it probably won't be too painful."
Alina snorted, "don't you remember when I had to learn to ride a horse? That man can be a serious taskmaster."
"I'm sure you'll survive," Genya said, "any other changes?"
"A huge pile of books to read on statecraft and the art of war," she sighed, "it's going to take me absolutely ages to get through."
She had noticed that no one else had been given that sort of reading list. It was clearly something to do with her being the Sun Summoner. Still, the texts were quite interesting, even if they were very long, so she didn't really mind having to read them.
"And you?" Alina asked Genya carefully, "how is the Grand Palace?"
Genya had spent nearly two months sleeping in the room next to Alina's, traipsing back and forth between the Little and Grand Palaces to attend to the Queen. Eventually, however, she had needed to return to her room in the Grand Palace.
The Tailor shrugged, "I haven't seen the King much. He suddenly seems to be very busy."
Alina reached out to squeeze Genya's hand reassuringly. Considering the King's usual laziness when it came to matters of state, she suspected the Darkling might have been manipulating things behind the scene to reduce the amount of time the King had free. She was grateful for that, but it still pained her to think that Genya was forced to endure any amount of unwanted attention from the lecherous man.
"You know if it ever becomes too much then you can tell me and I'll show him just what a Sun Summoner can do."
"You're sweet, Alina," Genya smiled sadly at her, "but I don't think all-out treason is in the Darkling's plans right now."
Alina harumphed, "I'll do it anyway. The King is a menace."
Genya looked around nervously, but they were in Alina's room and the only people who might be able to overhear them were Alina's oprichniki, who would never dream of reporting her words to anyone except the Darkling.
"I'm fine, really," Genya told her.
Alina didn't know whether to believe her best friend, but she promised herself to keep a close eye on the Tailor.
Genya was her best friend and Alina would protect her as much as she could.
Fedyor was back at the Little Palace following a trip to Kribirsk and had asked her to meet him that afternoon for a training session.
"This isn't more horse riding, is it?" she asked him warily.
He laughed, "don't worry, Alina, we've all agreed you're proficient enough at that. No, this is some training the Darkling has asked me help you with. He thinks it would be wise for you to practice using your light while distracted by other things."
It made sense, she supposed. While Baghra did like to get violent with her cane, such a distraction wasn't anything like what Grisha faced on the front lines. Although Alina was being trained to deal with the Fold, and might not ever go into battle the way other Grisha did, it was still sensible for her to be able to fight without having her concentration ruined by whatever else was going on around her.
"So, what, you're going to try and hit me with things while I attempt to summon?"
"Among other things," Fedyor had an uncharacteristic smirk on his face.
"Ivan's not hiding somewhere around here, is he?" she asked suspiciously, "we all know he'd love to get permission to throw things at me."
"Ivan is training some of the Heartrenders all afternoon, I promise."
They started easy, with Alina summoning and directing her light at targets as Fedyor caused various distractions.
He dumped water on her, poked her repeatedly and even produced a domra and began to play a folk tune.
It was actually the music that ruined her concentration the most. Fedyor was a talented musician with a lovely voice and she found herself wanting to sing along with him rather than keep focused on her light.
Next, he started tossing things at her, ordering her to dodge the projectiles while still hitting the targets he had set up with her beams of light.
Alina was thankful for Botkin's training. He had set up similar challenges for her class before, although she hadn't needed to try and use her powers at the same time.
"Good," Fedyor praised her cheerfully after twenty minutes, "ready for the next challenge?"
She nodded, "what is it?"
"Well, although it's rare, the Shu and Fjerdan forces do sometimes have Grisha working for them."
Alina's eyes widened, "what! Why would they help the people who want to execute or experiment on them?"
"They don't usually have a choice," Fedyor explained sadly, "some are brainwashed, others are threatened. They are often used to help capture or kill other Grisha."
"You want me to practice fighting other Grisha?"
He shook his head, "not exactly. This is about resisting distractions. I want you to try and continue hitting the targets with your light while I use my heartrending on you."
Her instinct was to refuse. The last time a Heartrender had used their gift on her had been when Ivan tried to knock her out following the snowball incident. She didn't particularly want a repeat of that experience.
"I'll be careful," Fedyor told her, clearly sensing her unease, "this is only the first session. I'll just try to make you a little light-headed."
She nodded, although she was still a little unsure. She trusted Fedyor, though, and she knew he wouldn't hurt her.
As promised, his heartrending was far gentler than Ivan's had been.
The first time threw her off guard and she missed her target as she swayed slightly.
She regained her focus, though, and her second blast of light hit the edge of the target.
By the time half an hour had passed, Alina was regularly hitting the centre of the target, although she did still have trouble whenever Fedyor added a little extra boost when he used his power.
"Good job," he told her as they walked towards the training grounds, "you've still got half an hour before Botkin's lesson, so you shouldn't be affected when you're training."
He passed her a folded napkin with a few biscuits inside, "make sure you eat these and drink some water before you start training."
Alina smiled, "when you and Ivan go on campaign, you're the one who always makes sure the both of you have snacks for the journey, aren't you?"
He shrugged and grinned, "Ivan gets grumpier than usual when he's hungry."
That, Alina thought as she began munching on the biscuits, she entirely believed.
One afternoon, Botkin had announced that he would be seeing all of them separately over the next few weeks for a private training session.
Although about half of their class had their sessions before her, Alina couldn't get any of them to tell her what had happened.
"It's different for everyone, I think," Nadia told her, "we're not supposed to talk about it."
Alina personally thought Nadia was being a bit dramatic. It was combat training, after all, not a secret mission to Fjerda or Shu Han.
Still, when it was her turn, she found herself feeling oddly nervous.
She was a little jumpy when she arrived at the training grounds, ready to get straight into combat practice, but Botkin shook his head.
"First, we meditate," he told her.
The combat instructor taught all his students the basics of meditation as a method to relax, regain their centre and calm down if they were angry or frustrated. Some of the students practiced it daily, but Alina generally only meditated about once a week, usually if she was very stressed.
Still, there was an advantage to meditating with Botkin. The man might be a fierce fighter, but watching him meditate was incredibly peaceful. As they sat there in identical poses, all her worries felt distant, no longer quite so daunting and frustrating.
After about half an hour of meditation they stood and warmed up in preparation for some sparring.
None of the students ever managed to beat Botkin in the sparring matches he engaged in with them every now and then, but they always learnt something from the experience – a new move, a better stance, or even just some useful piece of advice.
Now, he flipped her over his head once, twice, three times. Each time she got back up.
"Persistence is good," he told her, before flipping her again, "but eventually you will not be able to get back up. What do you do?"
"Err … walk away?" she suggested, "come back well rested another day. Or try something different."
He went to flip her again but she side-stepped him, not attacking but resisting his attempt to grab hold of her.
He smiled broadly at her, "you're learning."
And then he moved quickly, catching hold of her before she could even think to move and then flipping her again.
"Oww," she muttered, wincing slightly.
"Always more to learn," he reminded her, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.
They moved on to practicing moves. Botkin was sparse with praise, as always, but he corrected her form and her footwork gently and offered pointers on how she could improve.
That was one of the best things about the combat instructor. His criticism was always just, with advice on how to get better, and he was never cruel in the way that Baghra sometimes was.
The rumours said that the Darkling had sought the ex-mercenary out and recruited him personally. It wouldn't surprise Alina if that were true – she didn't think there was anyone quite like Botkin, so perfect for the role of teaching young Grisha how to fight without using their powers.
They worked until Alina's arms ached and she was trying hard to hide the fact that she was breathing heavily.
Botkin had a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, but otherwise appeared entirely unaffected. Considering his level of fitness, that didn't surprise her at all.
"Ah, xiăo gūniáng," he said as she wiped her brow with a towel, "not quite so little anymore, and much stronger now."
She smiled at him, remembering when she had first arrived at the Little Palace and he had promised he would help her get stronger. Now, she barely remembered those days when she had been sickly and weak – she might still be fairly short and slender, but she could certainly put some power behind her punches.
Botkin reached into his leather bag and offered a small object to Alina.
It was a knife, clearly Fabrikator-made. The handle was beautifully decorated with a pattern of golden sunbursts.
"Steel is earned," he told her, "and you have earned it now."
Alina had the sudden urge to start crying. It felt like a very emotional moment, after all. Still, she wasn't sure Botkin would appreciate it, so she simply bowed her head in respect.
"Thank you, Master Botkin."
He nodded his head towards her as she gathered her things, "good day, Sun Summoner."
Once, when Marie and Nadia were feeling bold, they asked her what the Darkling was really like.
It had been pure luck that Genya had wandered into the room at that point, dragging Alina away to be fitted for the new kefta that a recent unexpected growth spurt had made necessary.
She had no idea how she would have answered. For one, it didn't seem like a particularly good idea to gossip about the most powerful Grisha in the world in a palace where the walls had ears and those ears were attached to oprichniki who would inevitably report all such gossip to the Darkling. Second, she didn't know nearly as much as most people seemed to think.
Ivan, Fedyor and the other Grisha Lieutenants who went on campaign with the Darkling saw far more of him than she did. It was true that he took a deeper interest in her education than he did in any other specific Grisha student, and he spoke to her sometimes about the situation in Ravka and the Fold, but he didn't share military strategy and they rarely had a particularly deep conversation – why would he, after all, since she was only fourteen and he was … well, she hadn't exactly figured out his age yet.
Alina knew he had a sweet tooth he kept carefully hidden, that he had a deep interest in old Ravkan folktales and he could read texts that were centuries old without any need for translation aids.
Beyond little things like that, though, the Darkling was very much a mystery.
She remembered his weary shrug, his "you get used to it" after the Drüskelle had tried to kill her, as if assassination attempts were an irritation akin to what she felt at being faced with herring rather than pastries.
It wouldn't surprise her to find out that the Darkling was as ancient as some of the old books on his shelves. There was something about him that seemed almost removed from the world around him, as if he was one constant in an ever-changing world.
Plots within plots. Hidden motivations. Cards kept close to his chest. The Darkling was not someone you could just know.
Alina got the feeling that the mystery of who exactly the Darkling truly was could wait a few more years to be answered.
She thought that when she finally got the answer, it was likely that everything would change.
When the Darkling left to go on campaign once more, he took Zoya with him.
In public, Alina wore a smile that she hoped did not seem too insincere. Inside, though, she both seethed and worried.
She and Zoya had been rivals almost since the day of Alina's arrival at the Little Palace. The Squaller had so many advantages – she was two years older, her Grisha abilities had been discovered when she was very young and she seemed to excel at her lessons with little effort – and Alina's link to the Darkling, unique among the Grisha, had been the one thing Zoya had always been jealous of.
Now, the older girl was getting the chance to go off on campaign and, if the rumours were true, to possibly find an amplifier for herself. She would be travelling with the Darkling, probably for months, while Alina remained (as she always did) at the Little Palace.
The Darkling had never spoken to Alina about an amplifier.
Not once.
She knew that few Grisha had them, most of them usually travelling with the army. Ivan had worn the claws of a Sherborn bear around his neck for as long as she had known him, but none of the other Grisha she knew well had one, not even capable Fedyor (although that, she thought, might have been more because of his lack of ambition than anything else).
Alina wondered, sometimes, why no one ever mentioned an amplifier for her. She knew she was powerful, but the Shadow Fold was a vast, terrifying thing and she had her limits. Surely, she would need an amplifier if she was going to face the Fold any time in the next ten or twenty years?
Was she not strong enough yet? Had she not shown enough commitment? She trained and she trained, she took steps to master the Cut (she had managed it three times now under Baghra's close supervision), she honed her control and she slowly but surely built up her power levels.
It haunted her, the idea that she might never be good enough to do the one thing everyone wanted from her.
The Darkling had told her once, when she was new to the palace, that he would not let the people turn on her if she failed to destroy the Fold, but she was still fearful.
The people called her a saint right now, however much she disliked it. What would they call her, and what might they do to her, if she failed to live up to their expectations?
She just had to practice. She could be strong enough.
She had to be.
"You're moping, Alina."
"I am not," she attempted to deny Genya's words, but her effort was half-hearted at best.
"You haven't done any drawing for at least a week and half."
Alina shrugged, "I haven't felt like it."
It was true. She'd been severely lacking in motivation recently, even for her favourite hobby.
Zoya had sent a letter to Marie, telling her she now had her own amplifier, probably knowing the Inferni would share the news with everyone. The Squaller hadn't even returned yet and Alina already knew that the amplifier was a white tiger's tooth and all the details of how Zoya had obtained it.
Zoya had an amplifier. Zoya travelled with the Second Army. Zoya was actually useful, rather than being stuck in the Little Palace making progress that might never be enough.
"Don't worry about Zoya's letter," Genya told her, "the Darkling won't let you face the Fold unprepared."
"I don't know if I can do it," Alina whispered, "using my powers strengthens me, but there is still only so much light inside me. I see the blot the Fold is on the maps in the War Room – I'm only one person, how can I ever hope to make a difference?"
"Breathe, darling," Genya murmured, as Alina realised she'd started to hyperventilate, "just breathe, please."
"Genya," she felt tears drip down her cheeks, "Genya, I'm scared."
She had no amplifier. Her power had limits. She was getting older now and she knew the King and the whole of Ravka would expect some kind of miracle from her soon enough.
"You don't have to be scared," her best friend insisted, wrapping her arms around her, "I promise, Alina, the Darkling will have a plan … he always has a plan."
"You need a break," Genya continued, "you need something new to focus on. Not just your drawing, some new goal for your power. It always helps to accomplish something, even just a little thing."
"I … I don't know … there's so much about my powers that I don't understand."
"A trip to the library then," Genya suggested, "I know you've read almost everything they have on light, but we're constantly getting new books in. Or you could talk to David, he might have some ideas."
"Saints, Genya, what would I do without you?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'd be fine, darling."
Alina thought otherwise. She'd probably be hiding under the covers of her bed having a nervous breakdown.
It's ok, she told herself, just follow Genya's advice. Research, find a goal, accomplish that goal and feel like you have some control in your life.
"I can do this," she murmured to herself.
Genya held Alina closer in a warm hug, "you can do this," she confirmed.
"You know, you're spending so much time with David that I'm starting to get a little concerned."
Genya's tone was light, but Alina could sense a hint of insecurity. It was mad, really – Genya seemed to her to become more beautiful every day, and though he rarely managed to speak more than a few sentences to her, Alina knew he watched her best friend with a soft smile whenever she wasn't looking – but David was the one thing that made the usually confident Genya unsure of herself.
"He's helping me with a project," she told Genya vaguely, not wanting to share the details, even with her best friend, until she'd succeeded in her goal.
She had just returned from an afternoon spent at the Fabrikator Workshop, picking David's brains in the moments he wasn't distracted by his own work.
The idea had come to her after her conversation with Genya. She had visited the library and found a few books about light that she hadn't read yet. A few late nights (sitting up reading until she fell asleep on top of her books) later a question had occurred to her – what if she could use her powers to bend the light around her and make things disappear?
She'd have to start small, with a pencil, then a book. Maybe, though, she would eventually be able to make herself (and perhaps even other people too) invisible.
Surely that would be a useful skill to have? Not particularly helpful against the Fold, but it would certainly be a boon if she faced any more assassins.
In any case, Alina knew that she desperately needed a distraction and this would do nicely.
Alina's beam of light veered off in the wrong direction, missing the target completely.
Fedyor frowned, dropping his hands and letting her heartbeat return to normal, "what's wrong Alina? You were doing so well the last session we had, but you haven't hit a single target so far today."
"Sorry," she apologised, "really, Fedyor, I didn't mean to be so dopey today. I stayed up a bit too late practicing something and I'm tired."
"Ivan hasn't been nagging you about training, has he?"
"No, it's just a project I'm working on myself. I got a little overenthusiastic and stayed up until three this morning."
"You need your sleep, Alina," he reminded her gently.
"I know, I know. I'll go to bed early tonight."
"We'll finish for now," he said, "there's no use practicing while you're this exhausted. How did you manage your morning classes."
"Coffee," she admitted, "a lot of coffee."
"I think you should go and rest. I'll find Botkin and explain that you need to miss class today."
"Oh, I shouldn't," she protested, "I don't want him to think I'm not taking my training seriously."
"Relax, Alina. Everyone misses training once in a while. We might not get sick but we can certainly get tired and worn down."
"Well, in that case," she said, fatigued enough that she couldn't be bothered to argue, "a nap really does sound quite nice."
"I'll talk to Botkin," he promised, "Tomek, Viktor and Igor will make sure you get back to your room without walking into a wall."
"Thanks, guys," she murmured, as Tomek took hold of her shoulders gently and began to guide her towards the building.
Alina barely remembered the journey back to her room, only jolting back to a proper level of awareness when Viktor opened her door and Tomek nudged her inside.
She moved towards her bed on auto-pilot, took off her kefta and collapsed on top of the covers.
Sleep claimed her immediately.
The pen in front of Alina shimmered slightly and then disappeared entirely.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" she screamed.
A knock on her door sounded immediately.
She opened the door to grin at Leonid, "sorry, I'm fine. Managed to figure something out and got a bit overexcited."
He nodded and went back to watching the corridor vigilantly.
Alina beamed as she closed her door.
She'd done it. She had finally managed to make something vanish.
It was only a small object, but the mechanics behind the trick had clicked and she hoped it wouldn't be as steep a learning curve to move to bigger items and then eventually to herself.
Progress had been made and it felt absolutely wonderful.
"You have to relax a bit," Alina told Marie, "you're too stiff. It doesn't look natural."
"Sorry," the Inferni grimaced slightly, "I just really want it to turn out well."
Marie was one of the few Grisha at the Little Palace who stayed in contact with her otkazat'sya family. She wrote to them regularly, but since she hadn't been able to see them in person for three years, she wanted to send a drawing of herself with her next letter so they could get some idea of what she looked like now she was a teenager.
"I'll only be a few more minutes," Alina promised, "I just want to make sure I get the flames right."
Marie moved slightly so Alina could get a better view of the flames she was controlling, twisted into the shape of a dragon breathing fire.
Alina worked for a few more minutes until she had had a full sketch done.
There was no colour yet, but she had made notes on another sheet of what colours she'd need to use and she was familiar enough with Marie's kefta to be able to recreate the full pattern.
"All done," she told the Inferni brightly, "I'll colour it later and you can have it tomorrow."
"Oh, can I see?" Marie asked curiously.
"Not yet," Alina laughed, "wait until it's finished."
"I can't wait! My family will love it."
"Maybe you should see the finished product first before you say that."
"Don't be silly, Alina. Your work is lovely. The pencil sketch you did of Nadia and I was wonderful. We've got it hung up in our room."
She blushed slightly and mumbled her thanks. She really enjoyed drawing, but it always baffled her a little when others were so pleased to receive her sketches.
"Anyway," Marie continued, "I have to go. I promised I'd meet Sergei in the library."
Alina raised an eyebrow. The last she knew, both Marie and Nadia thought Sergei an arrogant idiot rather than a possible study partner.
"Don't say anything," Marie warned her, "Nadia's making enough jokes as it is."
So, a potential romance. Huh, she hadn't seen that one coming, although Marie and Segei did share a few interests, like a love of Ravkan poetry and an enjoyment of horse-riding.
"We're just studying," Marie insisted.
"Ok," Alina shrugged, knowing Nadia had probably teased poor Marie more than enough already.
"See you later," Marie waved as she headed towards the library.
Alina packed away her sketchbook and pencils and started to walk towards the lake, where she knew Nadia was practicing.
She would have plenty of time later to colour in her sketch of Marie.
For now, she wanted to hear all about Marie's new crush from Nadia.
The pen had been, not easy, exactly, but relatively simple once she got the hang of it.
Making the table invisible had been harder, but she had managed it within a day or two.
Her bed had taken another few days.
Herself, however … she was having difficulties there.
She tried very hard to avoid further late nights. Fedyor kept an annoyingly close eye on her when he was in residence at the Little Palace, and she suspected he'd said something to her oprichniki too, because they had taken to knocking on her door and giving her disapproving stares if she didn't go to bed at a reasonable hour.
A living, breathing, moving human was definitely more difficult to render invisible than an inanimate object.
Still, she managed it in the end. She couldn't hold it for very long, and it flickered if she lost concentration, but Alina Starkov was proud to say she could now render herself entirely invisible for three to five minutes, as long as nothing broke her focus.
Goal achieved.
"Saints, I'm exhausted," Alina said to Genya, "how do they keep moving for so long."
They stood in a corner of the large Little Palace conservatory, watching as thirty or so Grisha laughed and danced together, while half a dozen played varying instruments on a small stage.
She had danced the troika and barynya herself and was now taking a break to talk to the Tailor, who had arrived only a few minutes ago.
"A lot of them are older than us," Genya said, "they're used to the rigours of the battlefield and a lot of travelling – this is basically a holiday for them."
"Maybe I need to get Botkin to add a few extra laps during combat training. I'm feeling shown up."
"Saints, don't make that suggestion. He'll probably add on an extra twenty laps and the entire class will hate you."
Alina laughed, but then found herself distracted when she spotted David Kostyk on the opposite side of the room, looking as if he wasn't entirely sure how he'd ended up there rather than his usual table in the Fabrikator Workshop.
She nudged Genya and pointed at David, "look who's here."
Genya looked and promptly turned pink, "… what … you know … I think I need to get back to the Grand Palace … the Queen has recently gotten into the habit of asking for an evening touch up for her face."
"Oh no you don't," Alina grabbed the Tailor's arm, "the Queen has been doing nothing of the sort. You are going to talk to David. Look, he's all on his own – he'll enjoy seeing a friendly face."
It really was both adorable and amusing to see Genya so shy and unsure. Alina gave her another nudge and, although Genya glared at her, she did move towards David.
Alina crossed her fingers as Genya reached David and tapped him on the shoulder.
He spun around, eyes wide with surprise (he really did have terrible spatial awareness) but his smile when he saw who was next to him was clear even from across the room.
"My work here is clearly done," she said to herself.
With a grin, she set off in search of Fedyor. He'd be very interested in this new development in the ongoing Genya and David saga that they were both so invested in.
When the Darkling returned from his latest campaign, he invited her for dinner to discuss her progress.
He clearly knew she had been up to something. Throughout dinner (a Beef Stroganoff so delicious that she wondered if Fedyor's sway with the kitchen staff extended far enough that he could persuade them to make it for her every now and then as a break from herring) he watched her closely, as if waiting for her to explain herself to him.
Finally, once she'd finished her Stroganoff, as well as three honey cakes, she stood up from her seat, lifted her hands and focused on bending the light.
She knew she had become invisible when she saw his eyes widen very slightly and his mouth twitch upwards into a small smile.
"I had heard you were spending a lot of time in the Fabrikator labs," the Darkling said as she dropped her hands and became visible once more.
"David helped me figure it out. He had a lot of complicated explanations about refraction and bending of light that were hard to understand, but I got it eventually."
"Show me again," he ordered.
It took a few seconds of concentration and then Alina disappeared from his view. His expression was impassive for the most part, but she thought she could detect a faint hint of approval that made her grin.
Unfortunately, her good mood didn't last.
The Darkling clapped his hands together and let tendrils of darkness fill the room. They swirled around her, easily giving away her position.
He picked up a book from the table next to him and tossed it at her. In her shock she lost focus and reappeared just as she managed to catch the book.
Saints, she thought her lessons with Fedyor had made her better at avoiding distractions, although she had always been more prepared during their sessions, while she hadn't been expecting the Darkling to throw a book at her.
He let out a brief bark of laughter at her mulish expression, "impressive work, Alina, but there is always room for improvement."
"I know that," she muttered as she sat back down grumpily.
"No need to pout," he told her, "you are a remarkable girl. I only want you to be the best you can be."
"I just … I'm worried I'm not powerful enough to face the Shadow Fold," she admitted.
"You are young still, Alina. You have time."
"I have limits. At the rate I'm going it could be decades before I'm able to enter the Fold safely."
"If you want to talk about an amplifier, Alina, you need only ask."
She blushed slightly at how easily he could see through her, "you've never mentioned it. I know I'm only fourteen, but Ivan had his when he was my age. And Zoya is only two years older."
"Have you ever heard of Morozova's amplifiers, Alina?"
"I've read a little bit about them in a few of the books in the library. They're legendary – Morozova's Stag, the sea whip Rusalye, and there are rumours of a third, although no one knows for sure. They're just stories, though … aren't they?"
"Perhaps not," the Darkling told her, "I have had some trackers searching for the stag since that day the Drüskelle attacked. There are signs of it, although none of them have managed to get close enough to capture it yet."
"You want me to have Morozova's Stag!"
"There is no amplifier more suitable for the Sun Summoner. Its power combined with yours would certainly be something to see."
"I …"
He seemed amused by her speechlessness, "some things must be kept quiet, Alina, but that does not mean I am being inactive. If you have questions in future then, of course, you must ask me. I will do my best to answer, even if there I things I cannot tell you yet."
She was a little ashamed of herself for never having the courage to simply bring up the topic of amplifiers with the Darkling. After all, he had always been willing to answer her questions before, even if he couldn't always give her the whole truth.
"Thank you," she said, quietly but sincerely.
"Run along, Alina," he dismissed her, "next time we'll see if you can hold your invisibility when confronted by … distractions."
She resisted the urge to make a face at his teasing, waving briefly to him as she left.
Alina was a little put out by how easily the Darkling had broken her concentration, but at least he had seemed impressed by her accomplishment, even if it was a newly acquired skill that she would need to practice.
Happily, she happened to notice Zoya walking by herself as she was heading back to her room.
She turned to look at the three of her oprichniki who were shadowing her and they all watched her with suspicion as they took in her mischievous expression.
"So, if I asked you to just stay hidden for five minutes maximum, what would you say?"
Leonid looked like he expected trouble. Pavel had an almost imperceptible smile on his face. Dimitri sighed deeply before he nodded, "five minutes only."
Alina grinned.
She never would admit to it but, from that day forward, Zoya Nazyalensky was almost entirely convinced that one particular section of the Little Palace was haunted by a ghost whose maniacal laughter echoed throughout the corridors and whose phantom hands poked and prodded her as she walked (she wouldn't run, she absolutely was not at all scared) towards the dining hall.
Sometimes Alina just needed to have a little fun.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.
The next chapter, an interlude from Ivan's POV, should hopefully be out next Tuesday.