Chapter Two
Alina struggled to make sense of the chaos in the examination room.
Someone was yelling. Another was cursing at Saints she'd never even heard of before. Ivo must've knocked his bowl of water over because Alina's feet were wet, and the ends of her trousers were damp. One of the Healers—Maxim, she thought—had let go of her hand at one point, and now the pain was searing through her chest.
She cried out, vocalising her distress. And the next thing she knew, the Darkling was looming over her, telling her something she couldn't hear.
Alina focused on the movement of his lips, trying to decipher what he was saying.
"Stay calm for me, Miss Starkov." The Darkling's voice was barely heard over the other Grisha shouting at each other. "I know it hurts, but you need to stay calm."
Alina swallowed—her throat ached like she'd been screaming—and took a shaky breath in. She could feel Healer Matvei's presence still in her chest, trying to soothe her angry core. Her gift.
She whimpered, tears stinging her eyes. It was never this painful in her dreams, this brutal. "It burns," she told him. She took another shaky breath in. "My gift... it's broken."
The Darkling shouted orders to someone outside the room.
Another voice desperately called out for another Heartrender.
The corners of Alina's vision blackened; her sight blurred.
The Darkling pressed his forehead against hers. "Please... please stay with me, Alina."
Darkness.
...
...
The heaviness was the first sensation that Alina noticed.
It was different, though, from the heaviness of her limbs that she'd gotten used to over these last few weeks. This heaviness was softer, gentle even.
This heaviness was safe.
Alina tried to lift her hand and found something warm had been draped over her, right up to her shoulders and tucked underneath her chin. A blanket. Inhaling deeply—and noting that her chest no longer ached—she opened her eyes and found herself in a darkened room, a black tent.
The Grisha tent in Kribirsk.
Alina winced as she struggled to push herself up to a seated position. The heavy blanket pooled in her lap.
"Uspokoit'sya," a man said from somewhere behind her. "Easy, Miss Starkov."
Blinking rapidly while her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Alina craned her neck around and spotted a man in a red kefta slowly rising to his feet.
"Healer Matvei," Alina rasped out. Her throat was utterly parched. "What happened?"
The Healer picked up the oil lantern at his feet and adjusted the height of its burner flame so that the room was bathed in a warm, orange glow.
Taking advantage of the stronger light, Alina peered around and found that she was still on the long table in the examination room. Her fingers brushed over something rough causing her to look down at what she had touched.
She couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath at what she saw.
It hadn't been a heavy blanket draped over her. It was the Darkling's kefta.
Alina frowned as she took a closer look at the garment. No, not his kefta, she mentally corrected, a cloak of some sort. With the same intricate embroidery as his kefta, but this had a thick fur collar.
"He was worried about you, Miss Starkov." Matvei nodded at the cloak covering her lower half. He came to a stop directly in front of her. "I daresay he feared that he might've killed you."
Alina could only blink dumbly at that information. Her brain was feeling a little sluggish, a little sleepy. "What happened?" she repeated her earlier question.
"We began healing you, the Darkling began to call your power–" Matvei placed his fingers on Alina's temple and began to check her over– "And your hands started to glow, which is quite common amongst core-damaged Inferni." He chuckled ruefully, shaking his head as he moved his fingers to her neck.
Alina felt a cool sensation soothe her sore throat.
"For Inferni," Matvei continued, "the best course of treatment is to call their flames forth while their core is being healed. It helps burn off any excess power that has built up over time with a damaged core, and it prevents potential nerve damage from occurring in the hands." He hummed thoughtfully as he healed a small scratch on Alina's cheek that she'd received a few days earlier. "Limb damage that happens to be caused by excess power can be treated by both Healers and Heartrenders, but it is incredibly fastidious and time-consuming to have to do."
The Healer continued his inspection of her shoulders, arms and hands. Checking for wounds and stiffness. "The Darkling believed—as did I—that he needed to strengthen his call to your powers, Miss Starkov."
Alina swallowed the lump in her throat. She had a pretty good idea where this was going. "But I'm... not an Inferni." She hesitated. "Am I?"
Matvei raised a brow as he took a step back from her. "No, Miss Starkov. You're not. And because of that, his call almost killed you because of the strain it put on your damaged core." He began inspecting her feet.
Alina tried not to react as the Healer soothed the blisters on her toes and heels that she'd got from her ill-fitting boots. It tickled.
"Why don't you tell me what kind of Grisha you think you are?" Matvei prompted her once he'd finished his inspection.
He stepped away from the table to poke his head out of the room and speak quietly to someone that Alina couldn't see. When he stepped back in he gestured for Alina to answer his question.
Frowning, Alina thought about what little she knew of the Grisha. They had, of course, been taught about them at the orphanage. But, it hadn't been much more than a basic breakdown of the different kinds. For the most part, they'd just been given warnings to avoid them. Her teachers had informed all the children that Heartrenders were the most dangerous, while the abomination that created the Shadow Fold centuries earlier—destroying a large swath of Ravka—had been a Darkling. Just like the current General of the Second Army.
A few months after they'd been tested, she and Mal had broken into the locked classroom to try to determine what kind of Grisha Alina might have been. But, all that they'd found was a children's story filled with fabled tales hidden away on one of the bookshelves. Of course, they'd got caught by the housekeeper and punished for their rule-breaking.
Mal had been forced to tag along with the older hunters—which he secretly loved. While Alina had been forced to help Ana preserve the fish that had been caught in preparation for the coming winter months.
Alina still gagged at the stench and texture of pickled herring.
She focused her attention on Healer Matvei, who was waiting patiently for her answer. "There's one kind—one that I'd heard people talk about in Keramzin sometimes. Especially during the winter months. The Saint of the Sun; a 'sun witch' was what they'd sometimes call them." She shook her head. "But I've never actually read anything about them outside of a children's fable."
A knowing smile broke out on Matvei's face. "Go on... what kind of Grisha was it? What did the children's fable call them?"
"A–A Sun Summoner?" Alina frowned. "But, that's just a fairy tale."
"You'll be taught more about small science—namely, how it works and why balance is so important—once we reach the Little Palace, Miss Starkov," the Healer quietly assured her. "But, that is correct, you are a Sun Summoner. You summon the light, just as our Shadow Summoners can summon the dark. The Darkling, of course, is one of those Shadow Summoners."
Alina frowned. "Where is the Darkling?" Not that she expected him to remain by her side as she recovered. But he had given her his cloak.
"His presence was required to oversee the maiden voyage of the sandskiff, Miss Starkov," a stern-looking Heartrender said as he stepped into the room.
Alina recognised him from the night before. He'd been one of the three Grisha who had surrounded her outside of the tent. He was the other Heartrender in the examination room before they had begun her core healing. The Darkling had called him Ivan.
She stared at the blue kefta—an Inferni's kefta judging by the distinctive red embroidery—that was clutched in Ivan's hands.
Ivan tossed the kefta at her, which Alina was somehow able to catch. "Get dressed. Healer Matvei can tell you all about the different Grisha in the carriage."
"What about my things?" Alina didn't have much, but she treasured her sketches and hated the thought of leaving them behind. She realised how silly it sounded to ask for her meagre belongings the moment the words left her mouth.
Ivan waved off her question as he strolled out of the room. "It's being taken care of."
...
...
"Have some figs, Miss Starkov," Healer Matvei suggested, pulling out a small basket of dried fruit from underneath the seat. He held it out for Alina to take as the Darkling's carriage sped through the streets of Kribirsk. "Even if you are not hungry, just munch on the fruit. The sugar will help with your low energy."
Alina hesitantly cradled the small basket in her hands. "But, it's not my fruit." Fruit—even dried fruit—had always been a luxury at the orphanage, and one that Alina rarely received. Besides, she'd gone a lot longer without eating and knew that she'd be alright until at least the end of the day. "Most things taste like ash anyway. I wouldn't want to–"
"Eat!" Ivan snapped from the other side of the carriage. He hadn't bothered to pull his gaze from the window to look at Alina. "Foolish child."
"I am not a child!" Alina argued childishly. "I'm old enough to serve in the First Army."
The stern Heartrender snorted. "You're old enough to be used as cannon fodder for the Tsar, perhaps. But you haven't even finished your training." He finally focused his attention on Alina, only to sneer at her. "So, yes. I would say you are a child." He gestured to the basket in her hands. "Now eat the damn food."
Alina made a point of stubbornly tugging the lid off of the basket, selecting a plump-looking fig, and popping the piece of dried fruit in her mouth. She couldn't hide her surprise at the hint of sweetness that she could taste.
"It doesn't taste like ash any longer, does it?" Fedyor asked from his seat next to Ivan.
Alina frowned, shaking her head. "It still does. It's just–" she chewed some more– "there's a sweetness to it as well."
"How long has food tasted like ash for you, Miss Starkov?" Matvei asked from his spot next to her on the bench seat.
Swallowing her fruit, Alina tried to remember when it had started. She shrugged. "I think it happened right after I was tested."
"Yet you still thought it was a good idea to continue to hide your powers," Ivan muttered with a shake of his head. "Like I said: foolish child."
Alina glared at the Heartrender, wondering what she'd done to deserve his ire. "I never hid my powers, I only hung onto them. Tightly. I knew right away that something bad had happened, but the Grisha just left right after they'd finished testing me." She stubbornly lifted her chin. "The Healer was incompetent and didn't call my powers firmly enough. The Heartrender with her might've been a gad, but he did tell her that I was lying."
She didn't let Ivan get in a word before she continued. "It might've been stupid to want to stay with my friend at that place, but I was only eight years old and I was scared. He was the first friend that I ever had," she admitted with a shake of her head. "I was waiting for the Grisha to come to test the newer kids the following year, but that never happened. Mal and I were the last ones to be tested at the orphanage."
Finding that she was slightly hungry, Alina selected another dried fig from the basket in her hands and began munching on her food.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Fedyor asked after allowing her to eat for a few minutes without interruption. "The adults at the orphanage that were looking after the children. Why didn't you tell them that the Grisha needed to come back to test you again?"
Alina swallowed the food in her mouth before replying. "Those same adults referred to me as 'mutt', 'ugly Shu', or 'sticks' if they were feeling kind. Why would I ask them for help?" She shook her head in disbelief at his naïvety. "If I had they would've sold me off for some liquor, or hard cheese, or maybe some bread. That was something that they all liked to threaten us kids with when we got too annoying. If I was lucky, I might've ended up on a farm somewhere here in Ravka working for some rich family, or maybe I'd be over in Kerch and forced to be a whore. But, I'm half-Shu, so..." she drifted off and peered down at the basket of dried fruit in her lap. She didn't bother to go into detail about the threats she'd received about what Shu Han would've done if they'd somehow got a hold of her as a child.
When Alina forced herself to lift her gaze, she noted that Fedyor had a look of pity on his face. She scowled at him, deciding that she hated it. Pity never led to anything good, she knew that all too well.
"I think the important question that we should be asking, and hopefully one that we can find some answers to, is why the Grisha never returned to the Keramzin orphanage to test the other children?" Healer Matvei leaned back in his seat, stretched his legs out, and closed his eyes. "I trust that you, Ivan, will mention this to the Darkling?"
The Heartrender cleared his throat. "I will, sir."
"Good." Matvei sighed tiredly. "After we return to the Little Palace and heal Miss Starkov, I shall have a thorough look through our records as well."
Alina took a few moments of welcome silence to lean back in her seat and gaze out the carriage window. They were well outside of Kribirsk now, and on the Vy—the wide road that led to Os Alta. She spotted a few dozen peasants with their mule carts full of goods that had pulled to the side of the road and out of the way of the Darkling's distinctive black carriage and escort.
Sighing tiredly, she turned her attention to the Heartrenders seated across from her. Fedyor had his eyes closed and was trying to get a bit of shut-eye. Ivan, however, was wide awake and watching her with a look of intrigue on his face.
"Won't this draw more attention to me?" she asked him with a lazy gesture around the luxurious carriage. "I hardly believe that the Darkling would lone out his personal carriage to some new Inferni, or whatever it is I'm supposed to be." She frowned as she ran her hand over the kefta that she'd been told to wear. "And why tell everyone that I'm an Inferni if I'm not?"
Ivan crossed his arms across his chest. "Because as far as any of the Grisha out there are concerned, you are an Inferni. The examination room was able to contain most of your light, thanks to our Durasts, but it wasn't able to contain your screams." He pointed with his chin out the carriage window. "They believe that you are an Inferni with a deeply damaged core who's in desperate need of healing at the Little Palace." He frowned. "The quickest way to get there is in the Darkling's carriage. Believe me, Miss Starkov, you are not the first sick Grisha to travel this way."
"I was one of those sick Grisha long ago, Miss Starkov," Fedyor said without opening his eyes. "I snuck onto a sandskiff in Novokribirsk when I was thirteen years old. I'd overheard my parents discussing selling me to cover the costs of their failing business. I almost made it through the Fold before anyone noticed that I was on the skiff."
"I'm sorry."
Fedyor offered Alina a bitter smile as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Like you, I have no interest in your pity, Miss Starkov."
Chastised, Alina self-consciously wrapped her arms around herself and snuggled a bit further into her borrowed kefta. "My parents were killed during one of Shu Han's attempts to gain control over the Sikurzoi mountain range. The entire village was destroyed in the battle." She sniffed. "I remember being told by some First Army medic, on the way to Keramzin, that me and Mal were the only survivors they could find."
"Who's Mal?" Ivan asked her. "You've mentioned him twice now."
Alina sighed, shaking her head. "The friend I stayed at the orphanage for." She offered the Heartrender a self-deprecating smile. "One of the dumbest things I've ever done, I know." She hesitated, unsure if she should explain the ugliness between her and Mal to a bunch of strangers. "Mal is a year older than me, but we used to do everything together at the orphanage when we were kids." She smiled sadly as she remembered the times they used to hide away from everyone, and just talk about whatever was on their minds. "And then about a month after he was drafted, he sent me a letter telling me to leave him alone. He wrote that it was difficult enough for him to fit in as an orphan, but the fact that I had the 'face of the enemy' was something he could no longer ignore. He wrote that it was a 'line he could no longer cross'."
"Dodged a bullet with that one, Miss Starkov," Healer Matvei commented. He didn't bother to open his eyes.
"I only ever saw him as a friend," Alina insisted, quietly chuckling. "There was never anything more between us, I swear."
"My statement still stands," Matvei argued with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"What's Mal's full name? What's he do in the First Army?" Ivan asked after a moment.
"It's Malyen Oretsev. He's a tracker in the Thirty-Second Regiment," Alina told him.
Ivan raised a brow. "Is he any good?"
"Yeah." Alina nodded. "If everything I heard once I arrived in Poliznaya is true, he's the best tracker they've got."
...
...
"We will be stopping here for the night, Miss Starkov," Healer Matvei muttered in Alina's ear as the carriage began to slow down.
With a soft snort of surprise, Alina forced herself to sit up straighter. She'd been nodding off since the downpour started a little while ago. She tried to peer outside, but could barely see a thing through the heavy rain. "Where are we?"
"Just west of Balakirev," Fedyor informed her. "There's an abandoned barn we often shelter in for the night when the weather's this bad."
The carriage slowed down even more as it pulled off of the main road, and continued on what must've been the bumpiest mud path that Alina'd ever been on.
Fedyor chuckled humourlessly as they travelled over a particularly rough stretch. "This is going to be such a pain in the ass in the morning."
Ivan snorted, clasping the other Heartrender on the shoulder as the carriage came to a stop. "Good thing we have you here to push us out again, yeah?"
Fedyor groaned. "That was ten years ago. Surely I've moved up in the ranks since then."
With the slightest of grins on his face and a firm shake of his head in denial, Ivan reached out to push the door open and stepped out of the carriage. He held up his hand before Alina could follow him out. "Stay."
Alina did as she was told for once, and slumped back in her seat to wait. With the heavy deluge of rain outside, she could barely see or hear what the Heartrender was saying to the oprichnik standing only a few feet away.
After a few minutes, Ivan poked his head back inside the carriage. "Fedyor, take Matvei and Miss Starkov into the barn. Sergei and a few others already have a fire going. Food should be caught soon."
"Of course." Fedyor exited the carriage and held out a hand to help Matvei and Alina down the steps.
Once Alina had both her feet on the saturated ground, Fedyor led the group towards the old barn. As they reached the large sliding door he turned to face the other Heartrender. "Will you be joining me by the fire, Vanya? Or will I be left all alone?"
Ivan hummed. A small smile grew on his face, and Alina could've sworn his cheeks reddened. "I will later, Fedya, I promise. Save some food and drink for me."
Ivan squeezed Fedyor's shoulder before he stepped away from the small group. He made his way over towards two Oprichniki keeping guard outside the barn.
Fedyor sighed, shaking his head at something. He smiled at Alina and gestured for her to follow him and Matvei into the barn. "Let me do the introductions, Matvei," Fedyor muttered quietly. "The Darkling insisted."
"Of course." Matvei held out his elbow for Alina to grasp onto. As she slipped her hand through his offered arm, he muttered, "They believe you to be an Inferni, Miss Starkov. The Darkling will likely tell everyone the truth once he arrives."
"Why not tell everyone the truth now?" Alina muttered back as Fedyor led them towards the middle of the barn where a small group of Grisha were gathered around a crackling fire.
"Protection, Miss Starkov," Matvei quietly informed her. "You are one of a kind. He will not risk you coming to harm... even from your own people."
Alina frowned at his choice of words, but couldn't ask what he meant as they had reached the group of Grisha and the chatter died off.
"Well you certainly look better than you did last night," a Suli woman in a purple kefta said once Alina and Matvei came to a stop next to Fedyor.
"Darya," Fedyor warned. "Be nice."
Darya scoffed, waving off the Heartrender's warning. "I am being nice. Our newest Grisha here looked like the walking dead when the Darkling brought her into the tent." She smiled wryly at Alina. "You feeling any better though? You still look like a light breeze will blow you away. I might have to set you up with some weights to put in your boots."
Alina grinned at the woman. Her words might've been blunt, but she knew that her concern was genuine. "I am," she said with a slight nod of her head. "Still tired, but…"
"No longer dying?" Darya finished dryly.
"Miss Starkov will need extensive core healing once we return to the Little Palace," Healer Matvei informed the group as he sat down on the ground. "The healing I was able to accomplish last night was minimal at best."
"Why do I feel so much better then?" Alina asked.
Matvei raised a brow at her question. "Because you were hours away from death, Miss Starkov." He gestured to her to take a seat by the fire next to him. "Anything would feel better than that."
Once Alina had plopped down on the ground, Fedyor began the introductions. "Everyone, this is Alina Starkov. As you all know from last night, she's a new summoner with a severely damaged core." He peered down at Alina. "You used to be a Junior Cartographer, correct?"
Alina shook her head. "Assistant to the Junior Cartographer," she corrected. "I wasn't even on the first rung of the ladder in terms of seniority."
The small group of Grisha chuckled at her comment.
Fedyor gestured to the Inferni stoking the fire. "Alina, that there is Sergei," he informed her.
Sergei offered Alina a wave of hello, which Alina returned in kind.
Fedyor pointed to a pale, blonde woman next to Sergei. Alina noted that she was a similar age to both of the Heartrenders that she'd been travelling with. "Seated next to Sergei is one of our Tidemakers, Lena. And, of course, our charming Durast is Darya." The Heartrender frowned as he peered at the small group. "I'll assume that means that Nils has been tasked with finding our late meal?"
Sergei nodded as he added another log to the fire. "He has. Took a couple of Oprichniki with him. They'll show him how to prepare whatever it is he catches."
Fedyor nodded, then leaned over closer to Alina to tell her, "Nils is another Inferni. It's his first time out of the palace."
Alina nodded in understanding. Nils must've been quite young if he was still learning about basic survival.
Although the more she thought about it, she realised that she didn't know much either. She was taught basic survival skills—all recruits in the First Army were, regardless of their unit. But she honestly couldn't remember much of what she was taught.
Alina wondered if that was a side effect of her Wasting Sickness—not being able to remember survival skills. She wondered what else she'd forgotten over the years, as her days passed by in a sluggish haze.
Overcome with a sudden wave of grief, Alina pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around the back of her thighs. She closed her eyes and heaved a heavy sigh as she rested her forehead against her knees.
The sound of chatter amongst the group of Grisha washed over her. She found it surprisingly comforting, soothing even. Both Fedyor and Matvei checked in with her to make sure she was alright, but everyone else let her sit in silence as they socialised with each other.
She was vaguely aware of the other Inferni, Nils, returning at some point. The group congratulated him on his first successful hunt—a large hare that would provide more than enough meat for everyone. A bottle or two of kvas, and a small flask of vodka, were passed around as the hare cooked over the fire.
"The General's just arrived," Sergei muttered to the group as he reached out to turn the hare over. He was peering over Alina's shoulder at the open barn door at her back. "He must've been riding hard if he stayed for the return trip of the skiff."
"Assuming the skiff made it through," Lena murmured darkly. She took a long swig from the flask before tucking it back into her kefta.
"The skiff would've made it just fine, thanks," Darya commented with a roll of her eyes. "The only unknown factor was all the people on board and whether or not they'd keep their heads if it started going to shit."
Healer Matvei stood up and handed Fedyor his bag before making his way outside. Alina assumed that it was to speak with the Darkling away from the group.
"What's he doing?" Lena asked Sergei—ignoring Darya's comment. She tried to peer around the roaring fire to see out the open barn door. "Why hasn't the Darkling come in yet?"
"He's speaking with Ivan and Matvei." Sergei's eyes widened. "And he's now pissed about something he's just been told." He peered worriedly over at Fedyor. "D'you know what that's all about?"
Alina rested her cheek on her knees and peered at the Heartrender sitting next to her.
"I do," Fedyor quietly confirmed with a nod of his head. "It has nothing to do with any of you."
Alina frowned. They must be telling the Darkling what she said in the carriage. About how the Grisha testers had never returned after they'd tested her and Mal that one time.
Fedyor leaned over, closer to Alina. "Are you sure that you're feeling alright, Miss Starkov?"
Alina nodded. "I'm just really tired, that's all." She certainly didn't want to talk to him about the grief she felt from missing out on this when she was younger. Her regrets. And she was tired.
The Heartrender frowned. "Like you were last night? Or, is it something different?"
Alina yawned. "Different, I think. My arms and legs don't feel heavy or anything, which is a nice change."
A low hum sounded from behind her. "And your chest, Miss Starkov. How does that feel?"
Alina sat up straighter at the familiar voice. She twisted around and spotted the Darkling removing his heavy black cloak from his shoulders. "Moi Soverenyi," she blurted out.
The Darkling held up a hand to stop everyone else from greeting him in the same manner. "At ease," he murmured. His eyes remained locked on Alina. "Your chest, Miss Starkov," he reminded her when she hadn't said anything more.
Alina remembered what Healer Matvei had told her this morning when he'd checked her over. The Darkling had been worried that he had severely harmed her. "It's alright," she quietly reassured him. "I promise."
"Your Healer tells me that you are tired," the Darkling gently argued.
"I'm tired because I marched from Poliznaya to Kribirsk over a two-week period without much food or sleep, moi soverenyi," Alina stubbornly argued right back. "My chest is alright. I swear." She tucked her hands into the sleeves of her borrowed kefta. "I'll be just fine until we reach Os Alta, sir. I promise you that."
The Darkling's lips twitched slightly like he was attempting to hide his smile. "I'll hold you to that, Miss Starkov."
"I'd prefer if you called me by my given name, sir." Alina peered around the silent group of Grisha and frowned at the shocked expressions on their faces. "That goes for all of you. 'Alina' is more than fine." She returned her attention to the Darkling, who had a strange look in his eyes. "If that's alright with you, of course, moi soverenyi."
"Alina," the Darkling murmured with a subtle incline of his head.
He bent over and placed his heavy black cloak over Alina's shoulders before sitting down on the ground right next to her.
Alina couldn't prevent the wide smile from materialising on her face. Not even Darya's colourfully rude expression of shock could dampen it.
"How are we doing, Fedyor?" the Darkling asked. He tugged his leather gloves off and held his hands up to the fire to warm.
"We're good, moi soverenyi," Fedyor assured him.
The Darkling hummed thoughtfully, silently peering at all of the faces staring back at him. "Then I suppose I should officially introduce our newest Grisha." He turned slightly to peer at Alina. "Miss Alina Starkov," a look of pride shone in his eyes. "Sun Summoner."