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.
This chapter is set three months after Alina claims her amplifier.
Three Months Later
"You need to practice, Alina."
It was a repetition of what the Darkling had been telling her for three months now, ever since she gained her amplifier, and she couldn't help but chafe against his restrictions.
She was sixteen, in control (mostly) of the extra power she had received through her amplifier and desperate to be something other than a mere symbol.
Alina wasn't blind or deaf. She'd heard enough stories about the Darkling (some true, others false, a few unconfirmed) to know that he wasn't someone to be trifled with, that he could be brutal in his quest to protect the Grisha and Ravka. She had no doubt that he had a hundred plans involving her and the Fold formulating in his mind right now as he tried to decide which would best suit his aims.
But she just wanted to do something.
Baghra continued to call her a foolish girl for trusting him.
"That boy's ambitions are limitless," she had said during their first session after Alina had gained her amplifier, "he'll swallow you whole if you let him."
Alina had no intention of allowing any such thing. The Darkling was far older than she was, and certainly more powerful at the moment, but she refused to let herself be cowed by that. She had a legendary amplifier. She might one day have another – if the Darkling's recent mutterings about Morozova were to be believed, his amplifiers could work in tandem where a Grisha could normally wear only one.
Alina yearned for action, wanted to put all her new power to use in a way that would really help the Grisha and Ravka.
The Darkling, however, was urging caution and practice.
Admittedly, it was true that she had caused four explosions and one small forest fire during her first week back after her encounter with Morozova's Stag, but she'd improved a lot since then and Fedyor had assured her both that Ivan's eyebrows would grow back quickly with Genya's assistance and that the surly Heartrender wasn't too mad at her.
"My control is fine now," she insisted, "and Baghra has stopped grumbling about me almost setting her hut on fire."
"Patience," he reminded her, "the Winer Fete is less than a week away and the King expects a performance from you. We don't want to irritate him, not right now."
Alina felt briefly guilty for pushing to leave the Little Palace. The King had been outwardly delighted by her amplifier, but in private he had been unhappy about being kept in the dark until Alina had actually claimed the amplifier. It seemed that the Darkling's concerns that the King might have attempted to take control of the situation were not entirely unfounded.
It had taken a significant portion of the Darkling's charm and diplomatic skill to persuade the King that he had taken the most sensible and safe route. In the end, the King couldn't complain much – after all, Alina needed an amplifier to face the Fold and now she had one.
Still, the King's ego was always fragile and he wouldn't be pleased if the Sun Summoner wasn't there to impress all his guests at the Winter Fete.
"Soon," the Darkling promised, "there are plans in motion. I am just waiting to hear from some of my informants to finalise things. You trust me, don't you, solntse."
He reached out to brush his hand across her cheek as he spoke, sending waves of calm through her.
She stifled a yawn, suddenly tired, "I trust you," she agreed.
Of course she did. He had protected her for years, had let her claim her amplifier, had been honest when Baghra had told her the truth about his identity, listened to her like he thought her opinion was worth something.
"It will all be fine, Alina," he reassured her, "it won't be long before everyone will see just what their Sankta Alina can do."
Both of his hands were cupping her face now and his touch made her skin tingle and her mind go fuzzy.
She was sure he was correct. Everything would be alright.
Alina looked in the mirror and watched as Genya, who stood behind her, considered the most recent style she'd tried out on Alina's hair.
"No," the Tailor shook her head, "too fussy. We can't have you looking as ridiculous as some of the court ladies do."
Genya pulled out the pins and twisted her hand, undoing the complicated hairstyle in just a moment. It was the eleventh style they had tried in the last hour and a half as Genya tried to decide what would work best for the Winter Fete.
"I liked the first one," Alina said.
It had been a fairly simple bun, ornamented by some beautiful golden pins decorated with little sunbursts that the Darkling had given her for her last birthday.
"Hmm," Genya began to recreate the style on Alina's hair, "you know, I think you might be right. Elegant, understated and pretty."
"Plus, I think these hairpins can be used as weapons," Alina added, poking one end experimentally and wincing when she drew blood, "you know, just in case."
Genya laughed, "I thought I was the only one who tended to consider accessories as weapons, but I suppose the Darkling thought it would be a good idea to give you as many ways to protect yourself as possible, as a precaution. I don't expect a brawl at the Winter Fete, but you never know – the presence of a living saint might rile people up a bit."
"I wish they'd stop calling me that," Alina sighed, "it just makes me think they're going to try and carve me into pieces in some insane sacrificial ritual – Marie was telling me some of the stories that are circulating and they're terrifying."
Genya frowned, "Marie shouldn't be scaring you like that. You're safe here with us."
Alina shrugged, "Marie means well. She just thought I might want to know what people were saying."
"Don't worry about it," Genya reiterated, "you're very capable of protecting yourself and we both know the Darkling would cut anyone who tried to kidnap you into tiny pieces."
Such words probably shouldn't have been a comfort to Alina, but they really were.
Genya finished working on Alina's hair, recreating the first style they had tried, and looked at it with satisfaction, "yes, I think this is the one."
Alina moved her head from side to side, smiling as the hairpins shimmered in the light. A very appropriate look for the Sun Summoner.
She looked over at the kefta hanging by the door. It was made of heavy black silk and beautifully embroidered in gold, a more ornate version of her everyday kefta.
"Do you think the Darkling would let me have a gold kefta?" she asked Genya.
Her friend's eyes widened, "but you've worn black for as long as you've been here. It's such an honour for you to share the Darkling's colour."
"Oh, I know," Alina said, "and I'm so glad he thinks I'm worthy of it, but I just thought it might be nice to have a colour of my own. Not all the time, but maybe just occasionally."
She didn't want to offend the Darkling, of course. It was something she'd been thinking about for a while, though. He had said she could be his equal and she thought it might help if she had a colour of her own to show it, to demonstrate that they were two sides of a coin, rather than Alina being simply an extension of the Darkling.
"I'm sure you can ask," Genya said, though she still looked a little concerned, "maybe after the Winter Fete, when things aren't quite as hectic."
Alina nodded. It was something to think about at least.
"What do mean, you're leaving? The Winter Fete is three days away."
"I'll be sorry to miss your debut, Alina," he told her apologetically, "but the Darkling has asked me to go on an urgent mission to Novokribirsk. Nina has been investigating rumours of Grisha being sold into indentures but she's missed her last two check-ins."
Alina's eyes widened. She didn't know Nina very well, but it was common knowledge that the other Grisha was one of the Second Army's most powerful Heartrenders and she had received a great deal of specialised training to assist in her undercover work.
"You don't think it's Drüskelle, do you?"
Fedyor looked troubled, "there were rumours of a group of Drüskelle who left the port with some captive Grisha. They never should have been able to get away with it, but we all know that General Zlatan looks the other way in exchange for a purse of gold or some political favour."
"I'm so sorry, Fedyor," she told him, "I know Nina is your friend."
"Thank you," he said with a small, tight smile, "I'm still hopeful I'll be able to get to her before they reach the Ice Court. Knowing Nina, she'll be making the entire trip as difficult as possible for her captors, even if she isn't able to use her power."
"Is Ivan going with you?" Alina asked, knowing the two of them rarely worked apart if they could help it.
Fedyor shook his head, "he's needed here for the Fete. I'm hoping my mission won't take longer than a few weeks, but the Darkling can't spare him even for that time, not at the moment."
"Well, be safe," she leant up to wrap her arms around him, "don't do anything dangerous or get yourself killed by Drüskelle. Ivan, Genya and I will find a way to bring you back just so we can kill you ourselves."
Fedyor laughed and ruffled her hair with a smile, "I'll be back safe and sound in a few weeks, hopefully with Nina. In the meantime, try not to drive Ivan insane."
She gave him her most innocent look, "I don't know what you mean. I told Ivan a dozen times, I really didn't mean to burn his eyebrows off."
"And the pepper you kept putting in his tea?"
"Well … he was just being so grumpy about the eyebrow thing. I thought if he was going to be irritated then it might as well be for something I'd done on purpose."
"Behave," Fedyor told her, trying to be stern but failing to entirely hide his smile.
"Fine," she pouted, "but only because the Winter Fete is coming up and Ivan and I can be united in our disgust with the Lantsov Family."
Fedyor looked like he was considering whether to scold her for the way she was speaking of their rulers, but since no Grisha actually liked the Lantsovs he just shook his head, gave her a hug and wished her good luck for the Fete.
Alina watched him go and hoped his mission was a quick and successful one.
She also made a mental note to stay out of Ivan's way as much as possible. He was always an absolute nightmare on the rare occasions he and Fedyor were separated for more than a few days.
The last thing she wanted, after all, was to get knocked unconscious when she was supposed to be practicing for her performance at the Fete.
"How are you feeling about the Winter Fete," the Darkling asked her the next afternoon when he found her reading in his personal library.
Alina shrugged, "I'm sure I'll be able to give them the show they want. It just seems like a waste of resources."
"It is a pointless spectacle to allow the King to show off to his court and the ambassadors," he agreed with her, "but it is in our best interests to play along for the moment."
She wondered when they might finally cease to 'play along'. She knew a coup was a dangerous thing, but the older she got the more inadequate she found the Lantsov Family.
"I've heard rumours," she said, "people talking about a trip through the Shadow Fold."
He nodded, "the King has ordered that we should take a group through the Fold to Novokribirsk so that General Zlatan can be dealt with. He has become such a danger that our lazy king has finally agreed that we should take decisive action."
"You want to use the Fold?" she guessed.
"It is the most efficient way," the Darkling told her, "and it will send a message to the ambassadors at the same time."
It would certainly send a message, but Alina worried about the collateral damage.
"We can't kill our own people!" she protested, "innocent Ravkans whose only crime is to live in the same city as General Zlatan."
"There is always a cost to war," he reminded her coldly.
Alina shook her head, "it's too much. There are a dozen Grisha with family in Novokribirsk and I don't think they're going to be very understanding if their relatives are killed simply for being in General Zlatan's vicinity."
"They will see that the sacrifice was for a good cause."
She almost rolled her eyes. The Darkling might have learned to suppress his emotions to some extent over the last centuries, but his Grisha had not. Surely, he realised that.
"Some of them might at least try to understand. Others will never forgive you, though, and the last thing we want is division among the Grisha."
"What do you suggest then, Alina?"
She was pleased that his question was asked with what appeared to be genuine interest, not just as an attempt to humour her.
"The dry docks," she said after a minute or two of consideration, "there isn't really a civilian presence there, so it would be considered a legitimate military target."
"Hmm," he nodded his head, "an interesting idea. It bears thinking about."
Alina breathed a sigh of relief. Using the Shadow Fold against their own people wasn't ideal, but at least this way there would be minimal civilian casualties.
"We can discuss this more after the Winter Fete," the Darkling told her, "for now, focus on your performance."
She nodded but, as she turned to leave, she saw his mouth quirk into a brief, self-satisfied smile, almost as if everything that had happened during their discussion had gone exactly as he planned.
He could easily have guessed how I would react to the idea of engulfing all of Novokribirsk in the Fold, she thought to herself, and could he also have predicted what less drastic course of action I would suggest instead?
Perhaps that had been the Darkling's plan all along, to propose something more radical to make his real intention seem reasonable in comparison.
What must it be like in his head? Always plotting and planning and moving pieces around on his mental chessboard. Surely it was an exhausting sort of existence.
Alina briefly considered challenging him, demanding he explain. However, she did realise that something had to be done about General Zlatan and West Ravka. Diplomacy had clearly failed and force was needed. Wiping out the dry docks seemed to be the most sensible way forward, even if she wished they could do something less drastic.
Alina would remember, though, would keep reminding herself that the Darkling operated on an entirely different level to her or any of the other Grisha. If she thought he was going too far, she'd do her best to stop him, or at least to lessen the damage.
He had said he wanted an equal. Alina was going to try her hardest to be one.
Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it.
The next chapter should hopefully be out next Friday.