Chapter Text
They approached Novokribirsk, the skiff steadily gliding through the dark and desolate wasteland that surrounded them. With every heartbeat, with every second, they came closer to the border. Soon, they could finally leave the Fold. While they could surely claim that luck and the sun were on their side, Alina couldn’t deny that she felt a certain relief that she would leave the nightmare that had claimed so many souls. However, her stomach twisted into knots as she thought about the city and its notorious general.
During the journey, Alina had forgone the naïve illusion that they could somehow solve the issue peacefully. Maybe the darkness had influenced her thoughts, but Alina just knew that Zlatan wouldn’t relent, that his lust for power was bigger than any reason or compromise they could offer him. It didn’t make the matter easier, though.
Alina suppressed a sigh and rested her elbows on the balustrade. She stayed silent, although she heard footsteps, waiting for him. The dome of light, her sun shield as she liked to call it, continued shining.
“Only a few markers left,” Aleksander said quietly, standing next to her. Alina glanced at him and noticed a certain sadness in his eyes, but his voice hinted anticipation. Alina wondered if he was plagued by the same thoughts as she did, only to reject the thought immediately. Alexander must have plans for this, knowing better than to act rashly or unprepared. Alina wondered if he would share his plans with her.
“I wonder what will await us,” Alina started, offering an open question.
“Zlatan won’t expect a visit from the most infamous,” – his lips curled into a slight smirk, and Alina grinned, “Summoners. He’s too drunk on his power to even consider that he might not be as safe as he thinks he is.”
“But first we have to find him,” Alina reasoned. She doubted that they could just waltz in his house.
“Don’t worry. We won’t fail.” Aleksander’s certainty was as unwavering as the constant darkness surrounding them.
Alina was still surprised and startled how easy it had been to enter the city. Their skiff looked ordinary, truly unsuspicious and they had encountered no problems as they reached the docks. The Grisha working on this side of the Fold constantly forged documents granting safe passage to the city, and the bored guards didn’t spare the paper Magda had presented a second glance.
Aleksander and Alina had remained under deck, waiting for them to come to a definitive halt before exiting, clad in a cloak and hiding their faces. Soldiers wearing Zlatan’s crest were roaming the streets but weren’t interested in their small group. Either luck had been still on their side, or the soldiers just couldn’t be bothered to care. Alina thought that she caught a certain excitement of the soldiers. Given the recent news about Zlatan's alliance with Fjerda, maybe they thought themselves untouchable.
When they had finally arrived at another Grisha safehouse, a small and quaint farmers house, the sun had been painting the sky in hues of orange, red, and purple. It had felt so wonderful, feeling the rays on her face. Her powers were great, but they couldn’t compare to the real warmth.
Now Alina was sitting in a plush armchair, sipping sweet tea the kind Healer called Casimir had prepared for her. Most of their group had left, exploring the city and gathering information. Alina welcomed the break, feeling the exhaustion deep inside her bones. She could sleep for a day.
“I never thought that I would welcome such esteemed guests,” Casimir said reverently, casting a nervous look at Aleksander, who was bent over a desk, reading letters. Milana patted Casimir on the shoulder as she passed by, a slice of bread in her hand.
“Casimir and Mirko have been partners for years.” Milana closed her eyes for a second, and her thumb turned the ring on her finger. “He has served the Grisha well.”
“I have no doubt.” Aleksander looked up, giving Casimir a gracious nod. “Our combined effort will guarantee that the Grisha shall remain safe.” Alina swallowed the lump in her throat. There was only one thing left to do.
It was only fitting for them to mover under the cover of darkness. The shadows hiding them only seemed to grow as Alina and Aleksander crept to the luxurious two-store mansion Zlatan had taken up as a residence. It didn’t surprise Alina that he would flaunt his wealth that openly. The security guards had been distracted by a fire set by an Inferni Alina didn’t know. The flames licked at the small barn, which was close enough to Zlatan’s home to cause concern.
Goosebumps covered her flesh as Alina followed Aleksander’s lead, remaining hidden under blanket of shadows he had created for them. She marveled at his proficiency, using a lesser version of the cut to open the lock at the backdoor.
Before they entered, Aleksander turned around to face her, his hand reaching upward to cradle her jaw.
“I truly appreciate your presence.” In the quiet but short span after their arrival, Alina had retreated, asking Casimir for a spare room. He had shown her a small guest room, with a narrow bed that creaked as she had sat down. It had reminded Alina of the orphanage, and Alina had felt her heart twitch. How far she had come.
Alina didn’t know if she had slept for twenty minutes or two hours, but when she had awoken, Aleksander had been at her side, sitting on the old wooden chair close to the window.
“I am going to confront Zlatan today. It can’t and it won’t wait any longer.” He had given her time to ponder, more importantly, he had given her a choice, and Alina had accepted his invitation.
“Let me be at your side.” She wanted to be at his side, no longer at the sidelines or a piece of the board to be pushed around. He had given her a sincere smile, reaching out to link their hands. Alina had felt the thrum of his power.
It was that same power that guaranteed them safe passage through Zlatan’s mansion, which put even Lieutenant Berikov’s domicile to shame. Their footsteps were muffled by a think crimson carpet and as they took the huge marble staircase, Alina admired the countless pieces of art on the walls.
Such a big home shouldn’t be so quiet and lifeless, Alina pondered as Aleksander put his head against a heavy wooden door. Alina could discern one voice, but they needed to be sure. Alina wondered why Zlatan didn’t have any guards inside his home. Did he have this much trust in his people outside? Did he consider himself the ruler of this city? It certainly played into their hands.
Aleksander opened the door and Alina glimpsed at the back of a dark-haired man, throwing some documents into a roaring open fire. He turned around, certainly not expecting visitors, and squinted his eyes when he saw nothing. He looked so ordinary, Alina thought, with his brown hair and blue eyes. He could have been stationed anywhere in Ravka.
Aleksander let his shadows vanish, revealing themselves to the General.
“So the demon general and his sun pet are foolish enough to come for me. This will make things easier,” Zlatan snarled, diving for his pistol lying on a drawer next to the fireplace.
He never made it.
Alina flinched when his head rolled off his shoulders and evaded her gaze when his dead eyes were forever locked on her.
Aleksander showed no such reaction and knelt, putting the head in a bag he took out of his pocket. It seemed to be bigger than it looked; maybe a trinket of the Materialki?
Nobody spoke, and Alina waited for Aleksander to put the documents on Zlatan’s mahogany desk into his own pockets.
They wasted no time, leaving the house the same way they had come, sneaking past the exhausted and ash-covered guards who didn’t even know that their patron had been killed.
As they walked at a brisk pace through Novokribirsk, the sky had barely changed, and it didn’t feel right. They just removed a large threat and yet the repercussions would probably be noticed tomorrow. She didn’t feel the emotions she ought to feel: joy, relief, maybe even spite. All she felt was fatigue.
“I want you to rest, lapushka,” Aleksander asked quietly as they hovered in front of Casimir’s house. “We can’t stay here. We must leave tomorrow at dawn.” Alina nodded. She didn’t feel safe here, and longed to leave this place, before the consequences of their action could grow teeth and claws and hurt them. However, she didn’t look forward to crossing the Fold.
Alina went to bed, falling into a dreamless sleep, thankfully not haunted by a headless corpse, while Grisha all around the city celebrated in secret.
A lone tear rolled down Alina’s cheek as they finally emerged from the Fold, the familiar docks of Kribirsk a sight for sore eyes. The Grisha on the skiff cheered for her, and Alina let herself smile. The sun shield vanished, no longer necessary.
She was leaning against Aleksander, rubbing her neck. In the end, she had to use her necklace and him to draw enough power. She would never let them know, but more than once, the sun shield had come dangerously close to collapsing, her power trickling away. It didn’t matter. They made it.
“Well done, Miss Starkov”, Aleksander whispered, his breath fanning over her neck. His praise warmed her more than the sun on her face. A gentle breeze tugged at her hair, reminding her of the breeze that had stolen her scarf not so long ago. Her destiny had started in Kribirsk.
“What do we do now?” Alina asked, removing his hands from her waist to turn around and face him. There was a genuine glee to his features, and his expression was open and unguarded. Alina hoped that she would see him more often like that.
“The future is in our hands. You and I, Alina. We can create a marvelous world.”
“For Grisha and Non-Grisha,” Alina stated. She would not relent. “We will remain Grisha.” She knew that he would understand her request. They would not become monarchs, or worse, tyrants. While the Lantsov dynasty was far from perfect, they would not overthrow them. They would not throw the country into another war.
“As you wish.”