Chapter Fourteen: Loss. Just Loss.
The howl of wind echoed around a creaking ship. Water rocked and roared. It was calm, for once, over in the inky black of the night waters.
"I was a boy when it happened."
Aleksander and Alina were curled up in their sheets together. They waited of exhaustion to remove them from the endless day spent repairing the ship from the Sea Whip's attack. Bodies bruised from effort. Tired and hungry. Neither showered. The stink of their daily perspirations filled the room without a fleeting worry from either of their minds.
Both of his hands cupped the curve of Alina's pregnant stomach. The life within kicked with fury.
Hot breath clouded her neck as Alek rested gently there, close to her body to feel the change in her pulse if he wanted to.
"Thirteen, I think. There was a Grisha camp. We gathered there to train up our powers. There being so few of us left, and our powers, the only thing that saved most of our lives," he lowly recalled.
The heat of his chest against her back battled the growing chill of the icy waters outside the walls of the cabin, out of the ship, that now slept soundly on the first night since they fought for their lives and won.
Aleksander pressed a gentle kiss against her jaw. "My name was Eryk then."
"Eryk?" She repeated with a wrinkled nose. "You don't seem an Eryk."
He chuckled gently. "No. I suppose I don't." The humor died from his voice. "Perhaps that was my fatal mistake. They sensed I was not what I seemed."
Alina felt a prickling of cold flesh ascend the backs of her arms. Tension coiled in her stomach.
"I had a friend at the camp. Another boy, about my age. He was Inferni." The man swallowed. She felt the muscles rippled down through the flesh where they were joined. "It is difficult to recite this story. I don't recall it often."
He looked down, as if ashamed.
A gentle slide of her hand slipped over top of his. Her comforting pressure against their hold on their growing child, the only hope they both had at a better future.
"Take your time," she said.
"No. No. I want to tell it." He stated firmly.
"I understand."
He took a ragged breath of confidence. "It was the first friend I ever had. He always played with me… And didn't look at me with suspicion like village kids would. I liked him. He was fun. But, um, one day, we got caught by a mountain lion. We'd been playing in the woods when it stumbled on us." He paused. The tension was thick throughout his body. It tensed all against her.
Alina allowed her comforting embrace to spread through their bond to calm the rising fear throughout his insides.
It relieved that taut growing panic. He released a sigh, and with it, went the tension.
"He used his power. It was still weak, from youth and inexperience. The mountain cat was not scared of it. It swatted at us. Once it came close to cutting through the stitching of our coats." Again, his voice turned tense, harsh, restrained of the emotion that lived inside the words he shared. "The next time he used his power, I offered my hand. I promised that we would make it out alive. My touch, as you can imagine, made his power larger than he would ever reach, even in his adult life. I amplified it strong enough to burn the entire forest down. We survived that day. The cat ran off with singed fur, black," he explained. "One day he invited me to go skating. There was a frozen lake near our camp. He said it'd be fun. I'd never done it before. Only, when I got to the lake, he wasn't alone. There was another boy there, like twice our size. They'd waited for me to walk out to them on the ice before they attacked."
The lump was at the back of his throat once more. She gave a squeeze to his hand as he fought through the emotions of his memory.
"I didn't understand what betrayal was. I thought this bigger kid was trying to hurt both of us. I tried to get my friend to run away. It wasn't until he grabbed me by my shoulders and pressed me into the ice-cold water that I realized he wanted to kill me."
Alina held tighter on to him, suddenly taken in the emotion conveyed through his tone. The first taste of betrayal. How frightening that sounded to have it so young.
She held her breath in wait for him to continue.
The hands on her bare flesh spread wider. The taut swell of her womb protected by the expanse of his hands; the might of his power fixed against their child without a shred of distrust in her mind.
He cradled his child and her together in his embrace. "That was the first time I used The Cut."
The Cut. A fatal show of force as a shadow summoner. It was devastating. Awful. There was no chance of recovery.
She released a ragged exhale. "Oh."
"I hadn't meant to kill him," his voice was soft and hollow, as if a mere shadow of himself as he recalled the memory behind his eyes. "I was too scared that I'd drown. It was an instinct. My powers overtook my thoughts before I knew what I was summoning."
Alina gripped his hand. The warmth of their connection grew, as she quieted those inky black shadows from his mind. Darkness lessened in his eyes, that stared down at her belly now, enthralled with the life that moved inside.
Their child. Crafted of their union, powers meddled and folded in a single living thing.
"You were just a boy…" Her mouth went dry.
"I vomited when I saw all the blood on the ice," he revealed, still lost in that cool darkness of memory. "I nearly froze before I made it back to my moth- Baghra." His correction was a startling difference in his voice. A reminder of who he was now. What time had passed. "I could barely think straight. I trembled. Even after I was dried, I couldn't stop."
"You were a child," she said again, firmer.
"I'm a born killer, Li. It came as natural to me as breathing, or walking. My powers reacted out of their necessity." His voice was cold. "Killer instinct."
"He would have killed you for power. That was a choice. A choice to kill, rather than done out of desperation."
Alina moved her body. She wiggled from his hold and rolled over to face him.
Though the beating in her heart faltered when she realized those eyes had seen thousands die, at their own hand, and hadn't faded in any brilliance. Death was within him. It laced through his very veins. The past filled with death and ruin and darkness and greed.
It wasn't Ravka who needed a savior more. It was Alek.
She ran her fingers down his clenched jaw, across the height of his cheekbones, down the bright of his nose, to his full lips. They were pursed together. Tense. Lost in himself.
"Our lives are not about what we do when we have to. Those are not choices. Those are requirements. Demands of the world on us," she murmured against his soft lips. "It is when we do not have to do anything that our actions define who we are."
Sharp breath from his nostrils as he panted, the warmth of his lungs against her face, upset by the emotions that welled within him now.
Light poured from her fingertips into the pale of his flesh. Their warmth grew throughout.
"Now is the time to show who you are, Aleksander. Truly. How you shall be remembered for all eternity, as a man, Grisha, our sovereign."
The lump in his throat bobbed gently as he leaned forward, his voice tortured with emotion. "I love you, Alina. So much my heart can barely stand it."
Her fingers dragged down the length of his cheek. The hot touch of skin against hers sent tingles up her legs into the molten core that always melted, for him.
"My heart is yours, forever," she murmured. "Sliced through the redness of my blood and bone is your shadow there. Your name written in darkness. Its very shadow buried within my body, my being, my soul."
His lips took hers in a gentle breath. The soft kiss through the heat and weary bodies, death and horror of what the day became, the fear they'd be parted on the mortal plane, all melted to nothing but that kiss.
Aleksander held Alina in his arms. His arms joined at the small of her back. His cheek rested against the top of her head. Her ears listened to the steady thrum of his heart within his bare chest.
The symphony of breath the only sound amongst the creaks of the old ship as it rocked through the calm night waters.
"Alek…" Her lips murmured later into the night.
She wasn't certain if he was still awake. It'd been a while since either said anything at all. Or moved.
"Hm?" He hummed.
"Did Luda know who you were?" She watched the visible throbbing pulse in his neck. Part of her was convinced he'd lie. "Did she know your true name?"
It was a long while. His breath held within his chest. The frantic beating of his heart clear through the tissues of his throat.
Alina's palm rested casually against his chest. The pounding of her his heart just below her fingers. She felt it below. The very essence of life as it pulsed through his body.
"My name was Danilo when Luda knew me," he revealed. "I did not trust anyone. Not even the one I loved…to keep it safe."
Her lips frowned. "Not even someone as kind as Luda?"
She looked up. His face above hers, stared off across the room, only a twitch of his brow in recognition that it was she that spoke and not a ghost in the corner of the room. "I'd been tricked before."
It made her sad to know that the man she loved was so twisted in emotion that he'd failed to reveal himself to someone he loved deeply. Even if it wasn't her.
They laid there a while longer until the excited kicking in her stomach reminded them of another privy to their party. It took their thoughts to happier things.
"Speaking of names." Aleksander ran his fingertips down the side of his child's quarters. "Have you any in mind?"
"Mykyta," Alina stated. "What do you think of it?"
"I was thinking something like Oleksiy," he mumbled, "if it is a boy."
Alina rubbed her cheek against his chest. "It is a boy."
"How do you know for sure?"
"I just feel it. It's a boy."
He gave a chaste kiss on her forehead as he pulled her tighter against him. "Ionna. If it a daughter you bare."
"Pretty," she answered.
"Do you offer no rebuttal because you are convinced of its gender?"
She hid a smile. "Perhaps."
He growled playfully into her ear. Her lips betrayed a smile.
"Let's sleep, Li. It is a long journey back," he hummed.
Their hearts finally quieted from the excitement of the day. Exhaustion hit them in a sudden, inescapable wave. It pulled them down to darkness where even dreams dare not rest.
Alina awoke sometime in the dead of night. It was pitch black. Her muscles ached woefully as she rose from the bedframe. Aleksander snored heavily, still wrapped in the warmth of the sheets.
It was dense with heat, for once, in their room. Her thin linen shirt of Alek's trunk was soaked in sweat.
She slipped on a pair of lambskin lined boots and silently moved into the hall. Her attention stayed at the door a moment longer to ensure she hadn't woke him.
Aleksander needed rest. There was so much that weighed on him, including her. The least she could do is allow him every ounce of rest she was capable.
The deck was slick. The spray of the ocean and cold of night gave it an icy shine as she stepped from the innards of the ship. Clouds of white smoke came from her mouth. A cold refreshing taste to the smell of the damp of her room.
It was still on the deck. The ship laid dormant. A full day's fight gave a full night's rest.
She, the only one that stirred the silence, moved toward the railing. The water rocked them gentle. White light of the moon reflected off the water's surface. It ignited the entire port with light.
The shore was lined with the lights of businesses all up and down the coast. A busy mecca of ships and boards laid in rest for the night. Morning light would turn the entire port into a mad dash as it awoke.
Alina was dazzled by the town before her. It was a place she'd dreamed of coming.
The other side of the Fold: West Ravka.
Music carried on the air. It was some distance away. An establishment in full swing in the dead of the night. Their lights, still on. The many through the night like their own cover of stars. It was so vibrant with the collusion of so many in a small space.
She'd never seen a city so alive before. The smells of the many foods from street vendors and their spices all mixed together, intoxicating and savory. It brought that lovely water to the eyes. Her mouth, too.
"You shouldn't be up," a voice said through the darkness.
Alina jumped and clutched her heart. A figure emerged from the dark.
She dropped her hands to her sides. "Saints! Don't you know how to make an entrance that doesn't scare someone?"
His goofy smile emerged. "My apologies, Sunshine."
Her heart tried to quiet in her chest. She restrained her breath back to normal.
"What are you doing awake, creeping around on deck?" Her eyes turned back to the skyline in front of her.
It was difficult to look away from something so different than anything she knew.
"Someone has to guard the ale." Prince Nikolai snickered. "Last man asleep does night watch. I drew the unlucky position."
Alina smiled. A total lie.
"Would you know the truth if it hit you with an arrow?"
He chuckled. He leaned against the shroud. The ropes groaned under the weight.
"I know many truths," he revealed.
She shook her head with a smile. "Oh, really."
The many tall tales of the sailor were not drenched in reality, as he said. Many were woven like myths, not stories. Every word was powerful. It delivered the impact he wished it would, all without ever leaving a gap for boredom to creep through.
No true story was like that.
Life was boring. There were many times that it quieted to nothing at all as the days passed, all bled together, as one endless cycle of daily routines that were neither exciting nor noteworthy.
"Pray tell, what are these truths that you know."
"Oh, I know so many though."
"One," she countered. "Just one, then. Tell me one truth that you know, and I'll believe you."
He danced his brow. "You don't believe I know truths?"
"I don't believe you know what's true and what is fantasy." She chuckled gently.
"I take offense to that, Sunshine. Every word of my lips is nothing but the truth."
His feet found their footing as he eased off the shroud. The little cracking of ice underfoot as he stepped nearer.
Suddenly, his voice was just within the reach of her ear. It whispered through on a gust of warm air.
"The truth of a mighty sun summoner impregnated by a certain shadow summoner has not slipped my notice," he declared softly, in only her confidence. "Nor has the fact that it is being hidden."
Alina gasped and whirled around to face him.
"How?" She demanded. "How did you know?"
"It is quite obvious."
She glimpsed the swell of her stomach. It was not obvious pregnancy. Weight gain was possible. Her body was not above the plight of weight gain from being adorned with food and treats since her arrival at Little Palace.
She shook her head. "No. Someone must've told you."
"I may seem thick," Nikolai stated, "but I can assure you, my deductions are sound."
Alina allowed silence to whisper between them. Her mind reeled for explanation. What could have hinted at her condition? It was kept so secret.
Aleksander would never betray the truth to a soul, much less Prince Nikolai. He believed the information was not safe with any outside Little Palace. She hated to agree, but now that Nikolai knew, she knew vulnerable. Her powers were not changed. His thoughts, though, should he look for a weakness would find a very strong one.
She swallowed.
"Does he force you to keep it secret?"
Her brows furrowed. "Of course not."
"You can trust me," Nikolai said. "I can protect you from him. If he's hurting you…"
"It's secret for our safety, Nikolai," she breathed. "Don't you understand? I'll be hunted. I'm already hunted, but I'll be hunted harder if they knew. The General keeps it secret so that his child and I are not a larger target for the world. He just wants us alive. Protected. As much as we can be in this fucking country."
Although Prince Nikolai was hidden underneath the guise of Sturmhond, Alina saw only that blonde prince she knew back at the Palace. She did not see the man laid over top. Nor did she grimace at the sound of his voice, or the very noted ugliness of his scars.
He was still the man she knew him to be outside of his persona.
"Why not tell the King? Why not tell the crown to protect you? Your Darkling must know that the crown is stronger than his Second Army."
It was never said. The distrust of the Palace within Little Palace, but Nikolai had to realize it.
"Because," she answered.
"Because why?" He demanded. "If he is so concerned for your safety, why not have all the forces on your side?"
"Oh Nikolai. Open your eyes! Look at the crown your parents' wear. They're awful, deceitful, gluttonous people."
The prince blinked back his surprise.
"They don't care for their subjects or the suffering of the people of Ravka. What happens at the result of their gluttony. The General cannot even trust them not to kill me to ensure they aren't overthrown rather than keep the woman who would save their own country." Alina's chest heaved. "Cannot you not see why we have so few to trust in our mission? We cannot even trust the ones who employ us not to kill us. The only protection a Grisha has is each other. In the end, they're the only ones who've proven not to be our enemy."
The large captain moved his foot forward, but before his weight shifted, his eyes glanced over her shoulder and instantly reacted. His arms shot out to grab her shoulders. Her eyes widened. Hairs rose on the back of her neck, down the back of her arms. Warmth of fear shot to her palms ready to light.
Too late.
A large thud hit the back of her neck. She was cloaked in darkness before she felt the pain.
The next moment she opened her eyes, a pair of muddy green eyes looked into hers. One eyelid was limp as it hanged down across his eyeball. Both were deeply bruised. One side, more swollen than the other.
Blood dripped off the end of his nose, clearly broken through the center. Lips swelled, almost shut, and raw from a savage beating.
"Nikolai," she murmured.
The back of her skull ached. She reached back to probe the source of the pain but was met with the clatter of shackles around her wrists.
Both her wrists were restrained apart. A specialty pair of shackles meant for Grisha.
Her eyes widened.
"You've been out for hours," he breathed in blessed relief. His eyes glanced over her face. "How do you feel?"
She swallowed and blinked hard. "My head hurts." Her eyes caught the glimpse of her restraints. "As do my wrists."
"We've been taken prisoner," he said. "General Zlatan has us."
General Zlatan. The man behind the attack during the Winter Fete. Marie's murderer.
She tried to recall what happened. It came back in dark spots. The Rusaleye, she remembered. Parts of removing its golden scales from a piece of its severed tail, a warm bowl of soup, hot sticky sheets.
Sheets with a man inside.
"The General?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. They overpowered me once you were taken hostage. I don't know about anyone else."
It was silent. Not another soul was kept restrained beside them, a hopeful sign.
Alina took a moment to forget the pain of her mind that toyed with the edges of her eyes as she scanned their prison with was inconspicuous, almost impossible to believe a place for prisoners. It was a study. Each of them were chained to the radiator at the back wall sat upon a single wooden stool. Nikolai's hands hanged high above his head, so his shoulders were wretched in a sharp angle. Her own hands were kept in front of her. Perhaps, to keep them in full sight of General Zlatan.
She wore a thin linen shirt. Thank Saints it was dark enough to hide the bareness beneath its cover. Only a simple pair of underpants were below, sheer as well as pale. It did not do well to hide the swell of her abdomen that reached outward from her slender frame.
There was a fireplace lightly cackling with embers. A large pine desk sat across the room. A massive window sat at the back of the desk. It overlooked into the city of Novokribirsk.
They'd been brought back to the sight of the Fold. Its power rippled through the air in palpable waves. The darkness called out to her. It rode on the air, challenging her into its depths, swallowing the light of the atmosphere around it.
"Have you been here before?"
He nodded. "Before it was his post, yes. It is the given house of the General of the West Ravkan army."
"How do we escape?"
"Should be easy enough," he answered. "There are windows all over. We can just jump out one of those if we break free."
Her voice waivered. "How far is the fall?"
Her thoughts went to the growing star inside her body. She dragged her fingers down the center of her grown womb. It fluttered below her fingers in greeting, and hunger, dissatisfied with the position they were in.
"Don't worry, Sunshine. I'll get you out of here."
She frowned. "General Zlatan is not interested in taking me as prisoner, Nikolai. He sent assassins to murder me."
"If he wanted you dead, he'd have killed you on the ship." He shifted his wrists in the shackles. A grimace swallowed his face. A line of bright red flesh showed slight from below the iron cuffs. "There is a reason we're here. Keep your wits about you."
The last thing she wanted to know was the reason why she was spared whilst Marie was slaughtered without question.
"Why are you here?" She asked.
He casted a disappointed look. The blood that dripped off his face spoke of his bravery and loyalty to his friends to fight for them. She understood that he was beaten because he tried to rescue her.
"I meant, why are you here in this room. Why take you? You're just a sailor to him."
"A privateer is not a normal sailor. I may be here for the same reason you are. An enemy to his reign. It is in our best interest to get as much information from him as possible."
Alina nodded. It seemed an impossible task. There was an insurmountable amount of hatred for General Zlatan in her heart with the grief of her friend still burned into her chest. The thought of her blood on the floor of that room. An awful memory that sometimes awoke her to the arms of Aleksander around her.
He was always there for her when she needed him. Always.
A sharp tug in her mind reminded her of the depths of their connection. She released an exhale. Her mind centered in the base of the bond that shot through her soul straight into Alek's. She called out for him through the inky black. Light creeped through his darkness, in search of a fragment of him.
General Zlatan had reason to fear her, as she stood in his way to power over West Ravka. The entire world feared the Darkling. There was a chance she was given life while it was stolen from him.
Saints save him if Aleksander was hurt. No shred of shade would shield Zlatan from her power.
Alek. Are you there? Alek!
The moment her light split his shadow, cool darkness spread through her center.
Alina! Are you hurt? His voice ruptured through the still of her mind. I've been calling out for you for hours. You shut me out.
I'm unharmed. She answered. Nikolai is in worse shape.
Where are you?
She focused on the outside of the window. Through the study window behind Zlatan's desk. A select image of buildings and houses in the distance. Her eyes stared so hard that it burned into her mind.
It was only a small hope that it might find its way through the bond to Alek's eyes.
I'm coming for you, Li.
She sighed. He knew where she was. It was a relief to know he was safe.
I know. Her eyes flashed to the man at her side. Forlorn, busted and bruised. A tension in his face that she read as anxiety. The crew. What of the crew, the ship?
Aleksander did not let slip suspicion in his reply which was either growth or powerful restraint on his part. Undisturbed. Blood on the deck was our only signal that anything happened.
Nikolai's. I was disabled before I even knew they were there.
Bubbling anger leeched through the bond. I will make them pay for that.
The puddle of blood atop the wood plank floor grew in size. It touched the sides of her boots.
Hurry, Alek.
They were left to rot in the study for what felt like hours. Noise of the city outside filled her ears. Such noise. It was from everywhere. Animals, murmuring of conversation, the calls of howlers at the mouth of their business's luring people inside their doors. It was alive. Loud.
Nikolai drifted off. His eyes grew heavy, eventually closing on their own. She counted the moments between his breaths.
All the blood, the beating. Her breath was quick as she waited for that breath of his rough chest. The actual pain seeped through to the air. It smelled coppery. Her nostrils stung, tastebuds unable to sense anything other than the pain of the man at her side.
It was some time later that a thudding in the distance hit her ears. It grew in strength. Closer, it approached. The marching of boots against the floors shook the house as they ascended the stairs. One steady staircase before boots were right outside the door.
The door was opened. Two guards in charcoal grey uniforms entered. Their stern faces stared down at the pair of them, chained to the walls.
Neither said a word. Their approach, in marched unison, silent as they neared Alina. Her fingers tensed against the cold metal of shackles, legs primed for what defense she could put out, eyes locked at each of them.
One guard swung a hand at Nikoali's already bruised face.
"Don't you touch him!" Alina shrieked.
A weak groan huffed from Nikolai's chest. His arms still limp against the hold of the chains.
The guard slapped Nikolai again. "No. Please, don't," Alina whimpered as pain spread through his already broken face. He struggled to open his eyes. They'd swollen twice their size. An ugly swollen mess of flesh and blood and cuts where a lively face once resided. It broke Alina's heart to watch his chin been jerked upward for the guard's inspection.
"Ah," the one guard said – the first either had spoken. "He'll live."
"He better. Volkov wants to repay him for the broken ribs."
Just how long had it taken for them to subdue him?
The massive man was dropped from the guard's hold. His head cascaded down to the utter lowest reach, unable to hold itself up.
Alina pulled at her shackles. The loud clanging of their metal tensed the two guards like the sudden slap of a whip. Their hands went down to their sides. Firearms rested in holsters at their hips.
It'd taken much more than that to go through her. "Let me go or I'll raze this city."
A loud scoff sounded from the doorway. Tension went through the pair of guards as they raised their chins to be level with the floor, hand raised to the brim of their hats in a sudden salute.
General Zlatan. He was nothing noteworthy. A man in a uniform that read the rank of general in the stripes.
Old First Army habits came to mind. A similar instinct to salute was drowned by the loyalty of the only General whom she would salute to. No average man would earn such respect from her.
"You will not be bothered by the shackles for too much longer," General Zlatan said.
He did not bother to glance in her direction. His nod freed the guards from their rigidity. Their eyes returned glares of utter distaste down at the young woman chained in their presence. How much they must have hated to be so frightened by a small, slender, starved thing like her. Oh, how it ate up their manly hearts to chain her like a wild animal. The cowardice of their actions said as much.
It brought some joy to know they hated to fear her. Their fear, a shocking pleasure.
Alina adjusted herself on the stool. "You'll remove them?"
"The executor will." The man set down stacks of paper on his desk. It was too clean compared to the chaotic shambles Aleksander's got into in his phases. The study was a front for what one would expect of a general. Clean, neat, trimmed, a bit distant. A military room. "Before he removes your head."
Threats of death lost their appeal. Her anger reigned stronger. The urge to protect those she cared for at the center of her will.
"Decapitation won't stop the end of the Fold," she answered. "It certainly won't stop me."
He pushed his lips together. "Saints do little work without their heads."
"Not me." Alina snarled.
General Zlatan removed his beige kefta like jacket. It was folded and placed atop the desktop. He grabbed hold of blank sheet of paper. "This page that I hold." The bare face showed to the light of day. Nothing imperfected the blank slate of paper fixed between his fingers. "It will hold the warrant of execution of one, Alina Starkov, on crimes of treason against West Ravka."
Navy blue ink scratched across the surface. The sound of the words filled the silence of the study room.
"By end of day," he said as his eyes stayed fixed at the calligraphy beneath his hand, "you shall be freed of your earthly bonds."
It was the first day she'd ever met the man. Decidedly, she believed she wouldn't have liked him no matter the circumstances.
"What have I ever done to you? I've never seen you before a day in my life. I must haunt your dreams to have you send assassins into a palace to kill me."
The dull of pale eyes raised away from the warrant. "A friend of yours, were they?"
Through gritted teeth, she hissed, "Yes."
"I am grieved to hear it."
"Not too grieved to make amends," she countered. "You could stop this if you wanted."
General Zlatan was a very curious man. Unlike General Kirigan, who kept his emotions very close to his chest, Zlatan appeared to display his. Only, there were no such regrets or sorrows. It was clear he was impacted little by her death.
He shook his head. "No one else was supposed to die, but that is the cost of war. I am sorry that another young girl died in your place. Her soul will rest peacefully beyond the eternal gates of light."
Marie did not deserve such sentiment. The only place that she deserved to rest was in a bed, in life, alive.
His pity did little to soothe her loss. It instigated the foulness of hurt that grew around Marie's memory. That bitter taste of being stolen from, betrayal, hatred.
Alina allowed that devious voice fill her mind with those slippery, vengeful wants of his head on her grave. Blood soaked through the soil of her grave to release the limp coldness of death. If it came to his death for her revival, she'd do it without thought. In a heartbeat.
Nikolai moaned. He blinked awake.
Alina gasped and looked at him. His name almost left her lips before she remembered the secrecy she was bound to. His true name.
"Sturmhond," she said stiffly. "Are you alright?"
He nodded slowly.
"Ah. The King of True Sea, they say. Sturmhond himself. In the flesh." General Zlatan spoke from behind his desk. The pen only momentarily paused in his fingers. Nikolai eyed the man with much disgust. "The stories paint you a myth. I expected much more of a fight to overwhelm the slayer of the seas. What a disappointment."
It was a great blow. Nikolai held much pride in himself, smug or not, he was gifted in all that he attempted.
"No matter." The general's peppy dismissal was disarming. Alina and Nikolai shared a look. "I hear that you are both in great confidence of General Kirigan."
"Are we under arrest?" Nikolai – in Sturmhond's deepest voice – demanded.
Her lips parted to sneer that they were under a warrant of execution, but General Zlatan beat her to it. "Oh no. No. Arrest is for criminals. You two are not criminals. There is hope for them. No, you are much worse." He leaned back against his office chair. "Do you know what is worse than a criminal, Sun Saint?"
"A ranked official?"
It did not dismantle his path. Nor did it earn even a glance of disapproval.
"A zealot," he revealed. "They are the worst kind. They leech in a type of belief that order is an option."
Neither gave argument that they were not the zealot he described. Sturmhond was a privateer who led an alternative lifestyle in a tax-exempt pursuit of riches and looting of other ships that demanded daily violence not fit for city life. Alina was a Grisha, already too distinct. Her powers rivaled the life that General Zlatan fed to his people.
Alina wrinkled her nose. "You're going to execute him, too?"
Nikolai kept his lips pressed together. His lids lazily half hid his pupils. The swollen red and purple flesh of his face, jagged nose, and split lip were painful to look at, much less have to see brought to a chopping block.
"You don't take hostages to execute." His chains clanked against the wall.
"You would know," the general retorted. "Not many hostages on the Hummingbird, are there?"
There were sounds outside the house now. A growing hum, like sounds of crowds. Barking authoritative voices echoed through the streets. They beckoned people into the main square of the city.
The faint sound of 'execution' on the air.
Frantic beating of her heart repeated in her belly. The faint reminder of her little star within her womb.
"I hear you both are under the employ of General Kirigan. Is that correct?"
"You really don't know the first thing about hostage taking if you want information from two people you just declared to kill," Nikolai said smugly. It was his only chance to dangle his taunting, teasing soreness at being insulted. "We have nothing to gain, so we have nothing to say."
The pair of guards brought attention to themselves. Their bodies on the edge of vision. Both caught Alina's notice.
"There are ways. I didn't think we'd have to use them, but perhaps they are necessary for the likes of a sun saint and pirate."
Alina's eyes bulged as the guards came nearer and nearer. The decision of what they were to do already set through their faces.
"Oh," Nikolai declared. "They'll be necessary. Ineffective, too, if you're interested."
Fear laced through her limbs. She tensed her arms across her belly. It would do little to protect the baby for their blows, but it would be enough to hopefully die without the shame of being murdered along with her child.
The steady march of boots ended at their corner.
General Zlatan remained seated. The scratches of his pen against paper as he wrote her death certificate consumed the void in the threatening absence of their stomps. Death on either sound. She clenched her fists as tight as they would go. Should she get the chance, she'd knock one of them with the hard metal of a shackle.
It would not incapacitate them, but it would be her one shred of justice for what abomination they were about to do.
To her surprise, the blows did not land to her. They brutally met against Nikolai in dull thuds.
His head lulled back. The blows against his body were a steady rhythmic thud. Red hair blew back with each exaggerated swing of their arms.
Alina sat in terror as she was forced to witness the literal life being beaten away from his body.
"No. No! Please. Stop. You're killing him!"
Prince Nikolai – and Sturmhond – was a dear, dear friend. She trusted the man with her life. Never had she deserved the endless patience he offered. Nor the support to her wants. He questioned Aleksander out of concern for her safety, yet never acted on his suspicion.
There were few men as respectable as him. He was the sole royal heir that gave her a second thought about the crown.
If he were the future of the country, Alina knew it in her heart that it would be a healthy and happy reign where people were looked after, wealth was distributed fairly, Grisha were protected by law, and a strong front would face their enemies. Prince Nikolai was the only royal that showed hope at being a king worthy of their position.
Asking him to give up his spot on the sea would be a stab to his soul. He belonged on the water. The sea reflected a similar untamed depth that was in his eyes as he gazed out over the endless miles of water. But he would do it. The ocean would be abandoned if his country needed him more. She knew that resolutely. He'd give himself up for the good of Ravka.
Tears drenched her cheeks. "I'll tell you what you want," she breathed, "just stop hurting him."
Guards looked to their general for confirmation. Information clearly the driving factor behind their actions. They needed something. Desperately.
She watched them lower their arms, relax their fists, retreat to their places at the door with the simple wave of General Zlatan's hand.
The man behind the desk centered to her vision.
"Tell me about your General." He was everything that was worthy of the title. "What is the man like?"
"Like the stories tell you." She stated firmly. Her brow cocked coyly. "He's smart, quick, and strong. The strongest of Grisha."
"Smart, you say."
"Yes. He is a master at strategy." It was undue confidence that had her give him a lengthy examination, appraising what she could see of the man before her. "He'd make quick work of you."
General Zlatan leaned against his elbows. "You misunderstand me, Alina."
"It's Miss Starkov to you," she barked.
"I am not interested in your Black General as an enemy."
Everyone looked at him as an enemy. They feared his power. They felt his shadow and imagined its darkness. The stories only carried a fragment of the fear that came when his dark carriage paraded in front of them.
General Zlatan was the exact man against General Kirigan. One for country, the other for his own selfish interests of domination.
Of course, only a year prior, they would have made excellent colleagues. Domination. A similar story to the pair of them, the interest to serve those who they felt went overlooked by current rule.
"We are not so different, him and I. We both want the same things."
Alina scoffed. "Any hope of alliance you have should be abandoned before he makes you regret it."
It was not the answer General Zlatan expected. His brows raised; lips upturned in the center as if in doubt.
He had no idea of whom he dealt with if he thought Aleksander would be ally to him.
She allowed herself a glance over at Nikolai. His head was still lax at his shoulders. It doubled over toward the floor. A soft drip of blood again flowed from his face.
Heat flooded her veins.
"Barring the mention that you've allowed Fjerda to kidnap and murder hundreds of Grisha," she said with such raw spite that it practically burned her throat on its way out, "you've made the gravest of mistakes in gaining his favor. That paper you write. It is not my death certificate. It is yours. He'll slaughter your entire army for touching me. He'll laugh at the ignorance of a small, impotent man thinking they were equals. He's a general, a Grisha, a shadow summoner. He'll rip the darkness right out of your soul and leave you a bleeding, soulless little creature to die."
General Zlatan blinked. The hold of the pen tightened in his hand.
" I see." He barked lowly. "Well we'll just have to see about that."
The door opened. More guards appeared in the doorway. They formed a half circle moon around the back half of the study. Faces, devoid of emotion. Eyes deadened to what was in front of them. None made a motion past the formation. Their boots all in perfect row around the pair of hostages chained to the wall.
The vibrations of their march stirred Nikolai awake. He perked at the sight of all the soldiers around them.
He caught the panic in Alina's eye.
"I only have time for one execution," General Zlatan declared. "Dispose of the other."
Her breast heaved. "I'm sorry for this."
Certain death. It was there at the end of a pistol in her face. The choice in one of the guards to whom would be sentenced to a bullet, the other to an ax.
Nikolai leaned forward. "Don't," he begged. "Don't hurt her."
The pistol did not waiver from the height of her cheek. The cold round barrel pressed into the side of the flesh, pushing her face to the side, where all there was to see was the disheartening bloodied view of her friend, still chained and near death himself.
"You bastards! You go to hell for this. The saints will condemn the souls of those who kill women in cold blood. Cowards in uniforms. That's what you are. The whole lot of you." Nikolai was unruly. He pulled at the chains with what little energy he had left.
The gun stayed at her face. There was no escape. Not this time.
Her hands fought against the shackle though she knew there was no hope. Just the promise, the want to use her powers filled her body with terrible need. She kept her hands low as she fought and pulled and tried her best to reach the other hand with her fingers. One touch would be enough to spark some light. Just enough to save them.
"Hey, shoot me. Hey! Shoot me. At least be a man and shoot a man who looks you in the eyes."
His cries were to no avail. The muddy green of his iris pulled to hers. There was nothing to say in the moment. No apology or promise.
The mutual defeat haunted their eyes. They knew the end had come.
Alina allowed herself to stall in that moment. Her soul apart from the body, away from the probing end of death. A beam of light. It became all that she was. She swam in the heat of it, closer and closer to a woodened blockage. The surge of sunlight as it reached the door, overcame the fabric of dimension and entered into a deep realm of darkness. It was cut only with absent diamonds above like a makeshift night sky.
Calm washed through her light. Her strength of red hot dissipated with the cool of shadow to become a gentle warmth. It slipped overtop her being. Swallowed whole in bliss and contentment, she felt another presence join her there.
It was total black. A being of shadow. It reached out its hand toward her as she reached out to greet it.
Apart of her knew that it was the other half of herself she was missing.
The completion of one soul.
I love you, Alek.
The ripple of emotion sent through the abyss. It answered back with a growl of urgency.
Hold on, Alina. Just hold on. I am coming for you.
There was no time. The doorway was closing fast. Their separation soon to be permanent.
Don't forget the warmth of light. It will always have a home for you.
The light pulled from the darkness. Heat rose. Warmth slipped away, as boiling hot light expanded at her back.
No! Alina. Hold on. I can save you!
The heartbreak only grew. Our time has run out.
No!
Goodbye, Alek.
A gunshot rang. It shredded through her ear drums.
A pair of green eyes went dark, lifeless in their sockets as their body slumped.
Alina blinked, once, twice, three times.
Nikolai was dead!