Chapter 5

The burning in Nikolai's blood eventually reduced to a simmer, but he was utterly spent and in too much pain to move. He vaguely came back to himself and realized he'd lost time, because he was somehow back in front of the campfire, his coat draped over him, now dry. There was a warm pressure on one shoulder and another beneath him. His brow furrowed as he registered the fact that his head was in Zoya's lap. She was fully dressed now, her kefta rumpled but also mostly dry. Her piercing eyes were gazing down at him in concern.

"Are you all right?" he rasped, remembering how he'd inadvertently hurt her the last time he'd had an…episode.

She scoffed. "I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

Nikolai swallowed a few times to coat his parched throat so he could speak, but he was distracted as he lay there, looking up at her against the backdrop of sun-dappled leaves. It gave her a soft halo that captivated him.

"Moi tsar," she said firmly, fingers wrapping around one wrist to press against the pulse point there.

Nikolai blinked. "I feel like I've been flayed alive," he said, then shifted to try to look at himself, but the coat was covering him. "Are they still…?" he asked tremulously.

Zoya frowned, not understanding.

"The Shadow," he croaked. "It was spreading…"

She carefully schooled her expression as she said, "Yes. But it retreated after…whatever that was."

Nikolai sagged in relief but also sickening dread. Each time one of these episodes happened, he felt weaker afterward.

"You killed it," Zoya went on. "The khergud soldier."

It took him a moment to remember. It hadn't really felt like him doing it, but like he'd been momentarily taken over by…something else.

"Took a monster to kill a monster," he murmured.

She frowned down at him. "You are not a monster, moi tsar."

"Not yet."

When she didn't respond to that, Nikolai found himself compelled to keep going.

"I see the Shadow Monster in my reflection," he confessed quietly. "It's inside me, becoming me. And if we can't get it out, I'm afraid that…" He didn't finish, unable to even give voice to the horror of what he feared awaited him.

"I don't know what this is," Zoya finally said. "Or how to fix it. But I've seen that you are stronger than it. You just have to keep fighting."

He wanted to believe that, but it didn't feel true.

They fell silent and stayed like that for what felt like a while before Zoya cleared her throat.

"Can you move?"

Nikolai jolted as he realized she was still pillowing him in her lap, and he tried to sit up, only to find none of his limbs would respond. He could barely lift his head without his vision swimming. "Sorry," he gasped. "I can't. And I appreciate the cushion, but you can get up now."

Her mouth turned down in concern, but she carefully slid out from under him. She did bundle his shirt up and gently tucked it beneath his head. Then she stoked the fire and looked around, obviously trying to think of what to do. They had no supplies, no means of travel as long as Nikolai was incapacitated. And even if he told her to go for help, he knew she would not leave her king unprotected.

The crack of a twig had Zoya whirling with arms up, ready to fight, but to their surprise, it was Mal that came hurrying into view, followed by Alina, Tolya, and Tamar.

"Thank the Saints, you're alive!" Alina exclaimed.

The twins immediately rushed over to Nikolai and crouched down next to him. He wished he had the strength to reach out and embrace them, overjoyed to see they'd survived the attack.

"Where are you hurt?" Tamar asked.

"He's not injured," Zoya explained. "The Shadow wound flared and he's been in terrible pain since. It- it spread briefly before receding back to its current state."

"Like in Ketterdam?" Mal asked him.

"Yes," Nikolai answered. "But worse." He let out a shuddering breath. "Each time is worse."

Tolya and Tamar began to move their hands over him, but Nikolai bit back a cry as the merzost in his shoulder burned.

"Not there," he gasped out. "Grisha touch makes it worse now."

The twins shared alarmed looks at that but quickly refocused their efforts on other parts of his body. They were able to ease the worst of the pain so Nikolai could at least sit up on his own power. Mal knelt down next to him with a hand on his back as he held out a canteen. Nikolai gulped down the water but then had to stop himself. It was running low, so he took one last small sip and then held it out to Zoya to take some next.

With the pain and weakness lower, Nikolai's mind was clearer, and he was able to fully look over his friends. They were a bit battered but seemed all right, though Tolya and Tamar could have mended signs of injury already.

"The ship?" Nikolai asked.

"Crashed several miles from here," Mal said regretfully. "We're lucky to have survived."

"How did you find us?" Zoya asked.

"I could track the frequency of merzost," Mal replied, flicking a look at Nikolai.

He supposed that was one good thing about all this.

But now they were faced with the problem of having lost their transportation. Nikolai didn't want to turn back; he was getting worse and something needed to be done, and that something might be in the Fold. So he managed to get onto his feet with some effort, grabbing hold of his coat before it slid off onto the ground.

"It looks like we'll have to keep going on foot," he said.

No one disagreed. Zoya put out the campfire, and Tolya retrieved the rest of Nikolai's clothes from where Zoya had hung them. Once he was properly dressed again, they set off. He was still plagued with dragging exhaustion, but he could at least keep his feet. Tolya and Tamar braced him on either side as they went, in any case, which he didn't shrug off. He treasured their friendship and support and had missed their presence dearly since returning to Ravka to take the throne.

To their good fortune, they came upon a military outpost where Nikolai was able to get them horses and make sure word got back to Os Alta that they were all fine and reports of the Kingfisher's demise didn't lead to the mistaken death of the king. From there, they rode straight to the edge of the Fold, which was now a barren wasteland of sand. Unfortunately, the horses immediately became skittish and unruly, not wanting to cross the threshold, even with the Shadow Fold gone. Maybe they could sense the taint of evil that lingered in the air. Maybe that meant there was, in fact, something out there for Nikolai to find.

"Hope no one steals the horses while we're gone," Mal muttered as they tied the reins to some shrubbery.

"The thieves would have to be pretty brave to take horses branded with the First Army's mark," Nikolai replied.

"Brave like Sturmhond?" Mal quipped.

Nikolai sighed. "Sturmhond is not a thieving pirate."

"He'd call it liberation."

Nikolai shook his head, a touch of amusement finally lifting the corners of his mouth. But it was short-lived, as they set off into the Fold.

There were no landmarks to navigate by, but now that they were here, Nikolai could feel a susurration along the edges of his mind. It felt like that same voice from his dreams, calling to him. So he followed it, and the others followed him unquestioningly.

As soon as the untouched land behind them was out of sight, a sandstorm kicked up. Zoya summoned the wind to bend to her power, trying to keep the path ahead of them clear, but the storm quickly became too strong for her, and visibility was completely blotted out. Nikolai held an arm over his face, trying to shield his eyes and mouth from the swirling sand, but it was difficult. He could barely see his feet as he kept his head down, and he couldn't open his mouth to call out to the others. They needed to stop and wait it out, but the battering gales kept pushing against him, and he kept staggering to and fro trying to maintain his feet and not get knocked down. He was completely disoriented, and when he finally bumped into someone, they clung to each other frantically without even being able to recognize who it was.

Finally, the sandstorm moved off, freeing them from its grasp. They both coughed and tried to brush the grit from their faces. Nikolai could finally see he was with Alina, though her dark hair was pale from the thick coating of sand.

She abruptly stiffened, gaze going past his shoulder. Nikolai turned and gaped in astonishment at the massive palace they suddenly found themselves before. It looked made completely of sand and bone, and Nikolai was fairly certain it had never been there before…

"Mal!" Alina called, twisting to look around.

But there was no sign of the others. The strange palace stood in front and the raging sandstorm continued to blot out the horizon behind them. Nikolai turned back to the structure, only to tense again as a woman appeared from within. A swarm of bees buzzed around her, but she seem unbothered by them.

"Welcome," she spoke. "I am Sankta Lizabeta, but you may call me Elizaveta."

Nikolai and Alina shared incredulous looks. They were supposed to believe this woman was a Saint of old?

"How?" Alina asked. "Aren't you…dead?"

"In a way," the woman replied. "I have been trapped in the Fold since its creation, more of a living death, in that regard. But only after every last piece of the Darkling's power is destroyed can I finally be free to live out the remainder of a mortal life." She turned her sharp gaze to Nikolai, which felt like being speared. "You carry that last piece."

He swallowed hard. "Are you the one who's been calling me?"

Elizaveta nodded.

"Do you know how to remove the Shadow from him?" Alina asked.

"I do." She beckoned to them. "Come."

They hesitated for a brief moment, but they had come all this way and Nikolai was eager to finally be rid of this curse, so he took the first step to follow Elizaveta into the palace.


Zoya clenched her fists in frustration as she trudged over the sand dunes with Mal. The storm had ended, but their group had been separated and now there was nothing as far as the eye could see.

"Can't you send up a sand funnel or something as a flare?" the tracker asked.

Zoya huffed at the suggestion, but only because she hadn't thought of it first. Coming to a stop, she started to spin up her own miniature sand twister. But as the gust picked up sand from the surface, it brushed against an obsidian rock, or what had looked like a rock. A monstrous creature leaped up out of the blue and spun to attack them, black wings snapping taut. A Saurian head spewed a geyser of fire at them. Zoya dove out of the way and flipped onto her back in shock. The dragon reared up with a roar, fulvous fire glowing within its throat in preparation to strike again.

Zoya torqued her wrists and sent the cyclone of sand into its mouth. The beast jerked back with guttural coughs. She summoned up another wave of wind, but the dragon gave a mighty thwack of its wings and sent it back at her. The force of power was unlike anything she'd ever felt, more than just the force of nature. It somehow hit the amplifier bracelet she wore on her wrist and instantly shattered it, scattering the tiger teeth into bits. She staggered back in shock.

Mal fired his pistol, but the dragon suddenly morphed into a man, the bullets sailing over his head. The abrupt transformation left them both stunned where they stood.

The man looked them over with slitted eyes that belatedly changed to human. "Who are you and why have you come to this forsaken place?" he demanded.

"Who are you?" Mal rejoined, regarding him warily.

"I am Juris."

Zoya's jaw went slack. "Saint Juris of the Sword?"

He snorted. "Yes, you Grisha remember your Saints, but not where you came from."

She frowned in confusion at the odd response. "My name is Zoya Nazyalensky, and this is Mal Oretsev," she said. "We were separated from our comrades. We came here hoping to find a way to help one of them who's been infected by a Shadow Monster, a nichevo'ya."

Juris looked thoughtful. "So that is why we remain imprisoned here even though the Shadow Fold was destroyed."

Zoya and Mal shared piqued looks.

"Imprisoned?" she repeated. "Who is imprisoned here?"

"Three Saints of old," Juris replied, then seemed to come to a decision. "I will help you find your comrades."

He set off without another word or waiting for them to follow.

"Can we trust him?" Mal whispered to Zoya.

"Well, he is a Saint." Which meant she should be on her knees in front of him, except he was already getting too far ahead, so they both hurried to keep up, hoping he really could help them find their friends.


Alina and Nikolai followed Elizaveta through the passages of the strange palace into a large, empty hall, save for a stone altar in the very center.

"We got separated from our friends in the sandstorm," Alina brought up. "They're still out there somewhere."

"They are fine," Elizaveta replied coolly. "And they would be a distraction. If we want to succeed here, we must act quickly, before the Shadow has taken root too deeply in your king."

Nikolai paled at that. "How do we remove it?"

Elizaveta turned to Alina. "You can use your shadow summoning to extract the shadow from him."

Alina's brows rose at that, but then she frowned. "How do you know I can summon shadow?"

"I may have been trapped here for centuries, but I have not been unaware of the world. I know a great deal about you, Sankta Alina."

Alina shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure I can be called a Saint anymore."

"Power is power," Elizaveta said dismissively. "And yours is needed."

Encouraged by someone finally believing her shadow summoning wasn't bad, Alina drew her shoulders back and asked, "How do I do it?"

Elizaveta turned to Nikolai. "Remove your shirt and lie down." She gestured to the stone altar.

Nikolai hesitated at that but nevertheless removed his coat and shirt and awkwardly hopped up onto the stone slab, then lay back.

"Summon the Shadow," Elizaveta instructed Alina. "And reach out to weave it in with the piece inside him. Once they are joined, you will be able to draw it out."

Alina looked down at Nikolai, who gazed back at her nervously. The wound on his shoulder stood out against his pale skin, the black cracks festering just beneath the surface. Alina took a breath and summoned up tendrils of shadow, then extended them out and into the wound. Nikolai jerked with a harsh gasp.

"Hold still," Elizaveta said curtly.

Alina faltered for a second before continuing. If this was the way to do it, then it had to be done. She concentrated on feeling out the simmering presence inside Nikolai, on weaving her own shadows into it. She could sense it working, the two sides fusing together. She could do this. Her shadow summoning could be used for good.

A brown, thorny vine suddenly shot up from the sand at her feet and lashed around Alina's arms, binding them together. She jolted and tried to recoil, but it held fast.

"What is this?" she exclaimed.

Elizaveta was looking at her with a gleam of excitement that made Alina's blood run cold. "The Darkling is the true king of Ravka," the living saint declared.

Alina gaped at her in horror, then snapped her gaze back to Nikolai and tried to pull the shadows back. But they weren't responding to her summoning.

Elizaveta spread her arms, and the shadows surged and began to pour into Nikolai's shoulder with relentless force. He cried out but was swiftly cut off as the noxious miasma forced its way into his mouth and nose as well.

"Stop it!" Alina screamed as Nikolai writhed on the stone altar. But the more she fought to rein her power in, the more Shadow poured out and flooded Nikolai's body. Darkness filled the entire chamber, and there was no sun summoning to break it up, to make it stop.

Alina cried tears of frustration as the Shadow ravaged Nikolai. And then it all cut off with a jolt and he fell utterly still, his eyes closed. Alina strained against the vines still binding her despite the thorns gouging her skin. Blood streamed down her arms in crimson tear tracks.

Nikolai's eyes flew open, and they were solid black for a split moment before turning back to blue. He swung upright.

"Nikolai?" Alina breathed.

He turned his gaze toward her, and there was a chilling steeliness in it that made her heart stutter.

"My Alina," he said, and it was not at all Nikolai.

She squirmed against the thorny vine, wanting to throw up. "No, no, no."

He swung his legs over the side of the altar and stood.

Elizaveta bowed before him. "Moi soverenyi."

He ran his hands down his bare chest, then examined his fingernails, expression puckering in distaste. "Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. I do rather like the poetry of it, though. The Ravkan throne has stood against me for so long, persecuted me and my people, and now I am one of them."

Letting out a scream of frustration, Alina tried to summon shadow. She managed to move her hands just enough to form a blade of power that cut her free from the thorns. But before she could muster a larger force, Kirigan grabbed her wrist and wrenched it back until her elbow almost popped. She couldn't help the cry of pain as he seized her other arm, immobilizing her.

His eyes blazed with intensity as he loomed over her. "What happened to your sun summoning?" he demanded.

Alina found herself so taken aback by his reaction that she didn't think to answer. "Get out of Nikolai!" she raged instead.

Kirigan merely smirked, and despite him wearing Nikolai's face, there was no trace of the charming, boyish features. Now his visage was dark and spiteful, and it brought tears to her eyes once again. What had she done?

"I did warn you to destroy every last piece of me," he said, then tightened his grip around her wrists until she felt the bruising down to bone. "Now, what happened to your sun summoning?" he repeated with deadly intent.

Alina's cheeks puffed with exertion as she strained against him. "I used merzost," she ground out.

Kirigan blinked in surprise. Then for a split moment, he looked impressed, before his expression morphed into disgust. "And this is the cost," he said derisively and flung her to the ground away from him. "Another treasure, ruined."

Alina rolled over and struggled to get up as he took Elizaveta's hand, and the two began to walk out. Alina staggered after them, but a swarm of shadows and bees descended on her, driving her back. By the time they dispersed, Kirigan was gone.

And so was Nikolai.