Chapter Text
She blinked, breath rushing in sharply. A shiver passed through her frame as the memory of burning slowly retreated. She blew out a trembling breath, blinking at the intimately familiar green canvas. For another few long slow breaths she lay there, putting aside the life that had just ended.
It had been one of her longer lives, decades spent running and hiding from those who would exterminate her kind without remorse. Slowly she sat up on her cot, swinging her legs out and setting her feet to the floor. A wave of fatigue passed through her frame but it was honestly impossible to say if it was caused by being back in a malnourished 19-year old body or the weight of her many lives and memories that caused the sensation.
She had long since given up on trying to determine what exactly was happening, but if there was one thing she knew, it was that she truly lived each of these lives. No dream, not even the most gruesome nightmare could produce the feeling of skin crisping in the flames of a Fjerdan pyre, or put the scent of her own burning flesh in her nose.
Slowly she rubbed at her face, before bending to put on her boots. She laced them up slowly, took up her jacket and ducked out of the barrack. Once outside she noted the camp was, while not silent, at least still that early morning quiet.
For a long moment she stood, taking in the greying horizon and the sounds of the camp slowly stirring around her. Then she resolutely turned to the washbasins, she looked up at her reflection in the bent metal plate above the basin after she'd scrubbed at her face. The cold water had chased the sleep away and put a bit of color on her cheekbones, but otherwise the face looking back at her was unfamiliar.
Impossibly young, unfit for the weight of countless lives she felt weighing on her soul. As she watched what little color had been there drain away, leaving behind pale skin and dark shadows. Sometimes she found she couldn't quite remember being the girl that the face had belonged to. Having arrived in the camp only yesterday. She did know that girl would never have contemplated doing what she was a about to do.
“No point wasting time." She muttered, shrugged into her coat and buttoning it up to the collar before spending a moment pinning up her braid. When she was finished she walked to the document tent, at this time of morning no one was there and she spent a moment selecting a few the maps, rolling them and taking a map tube to put them in. Slinging it over her shoulder she strode over to the Grisha encampment.
The First Army soldiers that watched the comings and goings did nothing to stop her as she purposefully crossed the invisible line separating Second from First Army. The Oprichniki that stood at the perimeter of the General's tent stepped into her path, but ducking her chin and a hushed whisper that the general had requested to review the maps she was carrying got her to Fedyor.
The Heatrender looked impossibly young to her, even though he was physically older. He gave her a kind smile, even though he looked like he was only just awake himself. She tried the same excuse she'd given the Oprichniki but Fedyor only frowned.
"I'm not aware of any such request, besides we have our own maps, no need to borrow any from the First Army.”
At that she looked up letting the image of the girl she no longer was slide away as she straightened. Fedyor's frown deepened as he noted the change.
"Fedyor, I need to speak to the black General."
"How... ?" He started.
"Your name is Fedyor Kaminsky, you've been a Heartrender in the Second Army for 25 years. Your partner is Ivan, you met at the Little Palace as teenagers. And you fell in love with him when he helped you master sensing heartbeats by finding rabbits in the fields behind the Little Palace. Your bonding ceremony was on the eve of the Winter fête, held in a pavilion on the lakeshore as snow covered the grounds and ice crusted the lake shore. You thought you'd throw up when the time came to exchange vows but when you looked at Ivan and all you could think about is how much you would enjoy sharing a cup of black powder tea with him every morning."
Fedyor gaped at her as she finished. Something that might have even been fear flitted across his face as he took her by the shoulder, pulling her into the tent. A moment later she was faced with Ivan, while Fedyor relayed what had just happened. Ivan frowned at her.
"What are you, a spy?" He asked.
"No," She answered. "I need to speak with the general."
Ivan began to shake his head.
"You know I'm not lying," She told him, briefly stopping him short.
A Heartrenders ability to tell truth from lie, though a rare skill, was a closely guarded secret among the Heartrenders alone, not even most other Grisha were aware of the ability.
"I mean him no harm," she promised. "But it is imperative I speak with him."
Ivan frowned and Alina watched him calmly. Eventually Ivan took her arm, nodding to Fedyor to take the other.
“One wrong move and we stop your heart."
She did not acknowledge the threat and moved with them as they took her into the interior.
The Darkling looked up as they entered. He wasn't wearing his Kefta, or even his leather undercoat, only a long sleeved red under shirt, hair still mussed.
"Ivan?” He asked, after giving her a brief once over.
"She insisted she needed to speak with you, she is also unusually well informed."
"Well informed?"
Fedyor spoke up, glancing at her, "She knew details of mine and Ivan's bonding day."
The Darkling frowned, giving her another, closer, look. She looked at him.
"A Shu spy?" He asked stepping closer.
"A shu spy?" He asked.
She shook her head, “No, Eryk,"
The Darkling blinked at her, then looked at her narrowly. "That's not my name." He stated.
"It was what Annika and Lev called you."
Now he stilled, Ivan kept a stoic look about him but Fedyor glanced from the Darkling to the girl with a confused frown.
"Leave us,"
The Darkling commanded. Ivan and Fedyor released her, and stepped back, they followed their commander's order, even if they were clearly reluctant to do so. She kept her gaze on him while she waited for the two Heartrenders to leave them.
She slowly raised her hands in front of her body shielding her palms from a casual view from outside. He frowned, but held himself still. She called the light into her palms, watching him as he watched her. In that moment she saw a brief glimpse of what was behind the mask as hope and elation shown in his eyes.
"What is your name?" He asked, his voice having gone soft.
"My name is Alina," She stated, holding the Light and with it his gaze. "And yours is Aleksander."
That broke his attention away from the Light, as he looked up. She let the Light fade, dropping her hands.
"How?" He finally asked.
"You told me," She answered. He frowned at her and she shook her head a little.
"It's a very long story."
They sat at the table, breakfast barely touched, as they spoke. She hadn't expected it to be quite so simple, as he called back lvan less than a few minutes in to cancel the skiff set to trace through the Fold. She held a certain wariness of him, knowing full well what he could and would do in service of his goals. But she had also spent decades, possibly centuries with him, working together to reach those same goals.
She would have to guard herself from rolling back into that old trust too easily, but knowing it was possible let her at least begin with hope that it would again be possible to have that trust between them.
"What do you plan to do?" He asked, she looked up, raising an eyebrow.
"You're asking me?"
He nodded. "You have knowledge and experience I do not, why wouldn't I use that?"
"Because you are a stubborn, overbearing asshole, who hates not being in control."
He raised on eyebrow at the stark comment, a gesture she returned. That earned her a twitched lip.
"True," He acknowledged. "Still, l've waited centuries for you, you are meant to be my other, my balance."
"You thought I would be a naïve, impressionable child, to be molded into your image of me."
"Not always," He countered, "I had considered alternatives, if you were born in another country. Found by another, possibly an enemy. I had not considered this possibility."
"I'm not sure anyone could have."
"Nevertheless, if I've learned anything in my life it's to exploit every advantage."
"My plan," She stated, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before looking up. "First, control the Fold."
That got his attention, and he raised on eyebrow. "Control?" He asked.
Alina, nodded holding his gaze. He did not say anything further, nor did she.
"And second?" He asked,
"That would depend on the first, and is perhaps a topic best discussed with a little more privacy."
Ivan ducked back into the tent as he was called, he found the General standing by the map table, the girl stood beside him. Ivan noted they were standing fairly close. Not intimately so, but people tended to keep their distance from the General, the Otkazat'sya even more so.
Not this girl though, she stood, looking at the troop movement with the general standing just half a step behind her, at her shoulder. And if the Otkazat’sy usually kept their distance from the general they never turned their back on him. Yet she stood calmly, her heartrate slow and at ease. The general looking over her shoulder as he seemed to be explaining Zhlatan's current troop positions. The girl nodded, asking the occasional question, and while they seemed odd they were at least to the point.
"Sir," Ivan interrupted. The general looked up. His expression, which had been keen and interested only a moment before blanking as he noted the Heartrender.
Ivan and Fedyor shared a look as they stood in the tent, watching the general with the girl. They moved and spoke as if they'd known one another years, though the Heartrenders were sure the general had never before met the girl, and occasionally that same realization seemed to catch the general up short.
"And why shouldn't I just request you specifically?" He asked, the girl looked up from the map,
"And how exactly would you explain even having my name, much less why you'd be requesting me specifically? I'm not that good of a cartographer."
"So I’m to settle for a mediocre assistant cartographer?" The General asked, it took lvan a long moment to realize the General was poking fun. The girl's snort in response the only clue.
"Yes, just request a cartographer, I’II volunteer, no one else is going to." The girl scowled and added in a mutter, "Not that I wouldn't be assigned regardless if I didn't volunteer."
Ivan stepped into the cartographers tent, the small group of younglings looked up and startled at the sight of him. An abrupt silence fell as they stared at him. He noted the girl standing near the back. He looked away, to an older man that approached.
"Ah, oh…. sir," The man faltered clearly unsure how to address him. Ivan kept his stoic expression.
"Lieutenant, General Kirigan requires the services of a cartographer," The older man paled considerably.
"One of your assistants will do," Ivan added, clenching his jaw as obvious relief flooded the man's face.
“Of course, happy to be of service to the general..."
Ivan said nothing and the man ducked his gaze away, turning to the younglings, all of whom looked as pleased as their commander had at the prospect of being reassigned to the second Army.
"Sir, I’ll go." The girl stated, stepping forward and catching the senior cartographer’s eye. Her squad mates made no effort to hide their relief but the cartographer frowned, glancing back at Ivan briefly.
Ivan said nothing, giving no indication he had any problem with the volunteer. The cartographer looked back,
"Fetch your things," He ordered. She turned, collected a few other belongings and stood outside with Ivan less than a minute later. They walked back to the second Army camp in silence, a few soldiers frowning after them, but no one interfered. Ivan held the flap of the general’s tent for her and she gave him a brief nod before ducking inside.
...
"Shouldn't you be working?" She glanced over at him, with her attention split the ball of light she'd been holding aloft wobbled.
"Yes," He answered, but continued to watch her rather than pay any attention to the stacks of paper work. She narrowed her eyes at him but as her Light flickered she turned her attention back and steadied the Light. Her frown was fierce.
"Relax," He commented, "Breath,"
She glared at him, her Light flickering and blinking out.
She blew out a frustrated breath. "I know." She sighed, then dropped her hands into her lap and sighed. "It's just frustrating, I could do so much more, what was only a few days ago for me."
"You'll get it back." He stated, "It will only take time and practice."
She signed.
"No," Ivan looked up, pulled up short at the abrupt interruption of the girl countermanding the general.
Over the past few days he had been given glimpses of the two, and while he couldn't begin to understand what the general saw in the girl, he would keep his thoughts to himself. He had never been given an explanation for how the girl had known what she'd disclosed to Fedyor the day she walked into their camp.
It possibly had something to do with why the General was so taken with the girl. But it was not his place to ask. Whenever there were others about the girl kept out of the way, head down and tucked away in a corner, if she was even in the same space at all. Ivan had noted that often as not the shadows clung to the girl, hiding her from view and notice. She seemed to have no problem with that, were most, even Grisha were not entirely comfortable with obvious displays of the General's powers as a shadow summoner.
She never spoke up either when there were others, it was only when it was just him and Fedyor she did not hold back. Speaking more freely with the general than anyone else ever had. Case in point.
"No?" The general asked, looking back at her
"An assistant cartographer cannot travel to Os Alta under the protection of the Black General's personal guard."
The general looked at her for a long moment, a look that spoke of his displeasure at her retort. Abruptly he opened his mouth only to be interrupted before he could start.
"And she certainly can't go there under the personal protection of the Black general himself."
"You expect me to let you go unprotected?" The general asked, his tone enough to have lvan straighten.
"Yes," She stated, "Anonymity is my best protection."
The shadows shivered as the general glared at the girl. The girl looked at the general and softens.
"I'll be fine," She offered, "No one has any reason to wish to do me harm, and even if they did. I'm not that easy to kill."
The general seemed to slump slightly. "I do not want you to go alone."
"Okay," The girl stated. "I'll compromise, take Fedyor, without a Kefta."
Fedyor looked up in surprise, particular when the general ground out 'fine.'
"Miss?" Fedyor asked, looking over as the girl shifted again.
"I'm fine," She grumbled "Just not very used to riding,"
Fedyor frowned. "Would you like to stop for a rest?"
She glanced at him. "Thank you, but no, we'd best get to the Little Palace as quickly as possible."
"Yes, ma'am."
She looked at him. "Call me, Alina,"
Fedyor offered her a slight smile. "Yes, ma'am,”
"So, not happening, then?"
"No, ma'am,"
"You're my elder, Fedyor, as well as my superior."
Fedyor looked at her with a slight frown, "Am I, ma'am?"
She looked back. "Yes," She answered, and he could tell she wasn't lying by the steady pace of her heart. But he had seen enough of how the general treated her, and perhaps even more importantly how she treated the general to wonder.
Genya glanced sideways at the young woman the general had wanted her to watch over. She looked like nothing special, dusty and sweaty from days of hard travel and signs of poor diet and sleep deprivation etched on her face. Underneath that all though there was something. Though she was puzzled why the general was personally involved with the young woman.
"So, tell me it's not the Vezda suite."
Genya blinked.
Genya continues her work with the Tsar and Tsarina, but when she could she sought out the young women. She was usually easy to find, spending what time she wasn't with Botkin or Baghra in her small room, reading, writing or sketching. Genya shared the occasional meal with the young woman, in her room. The General had asked her to keep an eye out, but let him know how she was doing. A fact she seemed perfectly aware of, even once referencing something she should include in her report to him. Regardless she didn't let it stop her from forming a friendship. Genya however was aware that she was not really learning very much about the young woman herself. She wasn't even sure if she was Grisha.
She would have to be, the General would never involve himself with a Otkazat’sya this closely. And as time progressed the deep shadows and shallow skin melted away and a glow common among the grisha replaced it.
And why after all would an Otkazat’sya have any use for Baghra? But she was at an entire loss as to what type of Grisha she was. And even aside from that there was something else about her. The general had explicitly indicated that the young woman was free to use his own private library and was to be given access to any intel or report that would be for his eyes only. She was also using that privilege, and while she didn't discuss her thoughts with Genya she did with the general, writing him regularly and he returned her correspondence.
And when the Winter Fête began to loom closer Genya got a very unusual request from the general, one that had her reading and re-reading the request. When she met Alina for lunch later that day the young woman picked up on her confusion and frowned at her for a moment before she seemed to hit upon the problem.
"Let me guess," She sighed shaking her head, "He wants me fit for a Kefta."
Genya nodded. Though that hadn't been the surprise. She had figured the young woman had to be a Grisha, though she had never considered the possibilities that the General's order had opened up.
Alina looked at her sideways. "Black?"
Genya shook her head, which caused Alina to look around, raising an eyebrow.
"Gold," Genya answered, voice soft.
“Well, that's something at least." Alina answered, turning to face her more fully. "Do you have any questions?"
Genya, swallowed, looking again at the young woman who sat across from her.
"Are you...?" She stated, then faltered. Alina smiled, turning up her palm and calling a small light into it. Genya gasped, raising her hand to her mouth as she watched the small light split and reform, dancing across Alina's fingers. She closed her hand, the light winking out. Genya dew in a deep breath before she looked up at her newest friend.
"You're the sun summoner."
"Yes," Alina answered calmly.
Genya found herself standing on the stairs in the dead of night for a second time, waiting for a traveller. This time the wind was bitingly cold and she was glad for the fur lining of her cloak. She was even more glad to have the letter that rested within her inside breast pocket. She took it out as she heard the horses.
The general emerged out of the darkness, seated on his black stallion, dressed in a black Kefta and cloak it was only his pale face that broke the darkness. He found her waiting but it didn't escape her notice that his gaze flicked behind her. She stepped forward, holding out the letter, the general looked down at her, his expression closing as he took the letter.
"When did she leave?” He asked as he opened the letter.
“Two nights ago,"
The general's gaze stayed on the letter, but Genya noted that his other hand clenched on the reins. The stallion responded to its master by sidestepping. For a moment Genya thought he might actually turn the animal around and race after her. Winter fête be damned.
In the moment Fedyor and Ivan halted at his side, Ivan took one look at the general and held a hand out to Fedyor, keeping him from dismounting, after another long moment the general sighed, folded the letter and tucked into an inside pocket before dismounting. Ivan and Feydor followed his example and the stable hands rushed forward to take the horses.
"Did she at least not go alone?" The general asked as he walked up the stairs.
Genya nodded. "She took David,"
The general glanced sideways with a frown. "Kostyk? The durast?"
Genya nodded. The news didn’t seem to reassure the general much.
He stood alone in his rooms, silent and dark. He had pushed their travel hard, perhaps harder than he should have, with the itch in his chest pulling him forward. The thought that rather than a letter he would see her again, speak with her in person, driving him.
Instead he stood with a letter in hand, alone again. And most excruciatingly of all he could see the signs of another’s presence in his rooms, books that had been moved about, sketches littering his desk and Genya had told him the Kefta he had made for her, was in his own wardrobe.
The Winter Fête passed in a daze, and he was back on the road even before the Fête itself had ended. Ivan and Fedyor right behind without a single complaint
"Fedyor," The Heatrender looked up at the call of his name, frowning when he didn't see anything. There was a brief shimmer in the air and between one blink and the next the girl was standing before him.
She was wearing a simple grey cloak, pulled up to hide her face. Fedyor let out a soft breath, then smiled and inclined his head.
"Welcome back, ma'am."
She gave him a brief smile, then glanced at the tent.
"He's awake still." Feydor confirmed, gesturing for her to go ahead.
"Aleksander." He looked up sharply, breath rushing out of him as she walked into the space.
She glanced at him, seemingly caught off guard by this response. He rose, holding out a hand, she didn't hesitate in taking the offer though she seemed surprised to have it offered in the first place. As soon as her hand slipped into his something inside his chest uncurled. She glanced at him, frowning slightly.
"I'd been worried," He offered
She observed him for a moment, then gently squeezed his hand.
"There wasn't any opportunity to write."
He nodded, accepting that she was offering him an excuse that was likely only part of why she hadn’t let him know where she was going or when she’d be back.
"Can you tell me, what you were doing?"
She looked at him, then reached up with her free hand, unclasping her grey cloak. The thick wool fabric slipped down and his eye drew down to her throat, were a circlet of antlers now rested.
He caught his breath raising his free hand, then hovering without touching. "Is that..."
"Morozova's stag.” She confirmed. Raising her own hand and taking his, bringing it to the circlet.
"You found it." He whispered, gently running a finger along the velvet antler. She gave him a slight smile.
"It helps if you know where to look.”
She sat with him, indulging him when he found he was unable to keep from touching her. He updated her on the state of affairs, as she explained what the amplifier would allow her to do. The rest of the night was spent planning their next step. Eventually, after she'd spent two minutes suppressing a yawn he indicated the cot in the corner.
"Rest, we'll continue tomorrow."
She looked at him, then raised their clasped hands.
"You need to rest too,"
He settled on his side, all but tethering on the edge of the cot.
"Don't be ridiculous," She muttered, pulling at his hand and tucking their clasped hands in front of her, tucking her back against his chest. He was glad to give in, tightened his hold, holding her to his chest.
Genya arrived four days later in the carriage, with her came the news of the Tsar felled by illness and the Apparat having assumed control. That got him on unimpressed look from Alina but no further comment. Genya curtsied as she saw Alina in his tent, Alina stepped forward and took her elbow.
"You will never have to do that," Genya looked at her for a moment then nodded.
He stepped back into the tent, having overlooked the final preparation to the skiff, as well as their intended audience. There was a tension in the air, while no one knew what the significance of his presence on the skiff was, the fact that he'd never before crossed the Fold by skiff had not gone unnoticed. The Grisha at least realized something big was going to happen, but were disciplined enough not to speculate, and either the First Army was catching onto the tension among the Grisha or they worked out for themselves that having the Black General on a skiff was unusual.
He swung back his cloak, depositing it on the table before ducking back to his private quarters, only to stop short abruptly. Alina looked up, and he looked at her for a long moment, struck utterly speechless. She was wearing the golden Kefta Genya had brought with her from the Little Palace. The light catching and reflecting of the fine fabric and the subtle silver and gold stitching, creating a sunburst on her back and over her shoulders. The collar of the kefta was folded down on her shoulders, showing off the circlet of antler sitting at her throat.
Genya had also worked her magic and pinned up Alina's raven locks in an elaborate array of braids, pinned together with a hairpiece studded with black and white pearls, interspersed with diamonds and onyx stones. She looked absolutely stunning and stole his breath for a long moment. When he didn't immediately speak and continued to stare a slight smile curled around her mouth.
"Why General, one would think you've never seen a pretty girl before?"
That broke him from his stupor as he strode forward, taking the hand she reached out to him and breathing a kiss across her knuckles.
"None as beautiful as you." He stated, feeling the connection between them snap taunt at their touch.
Her smile deepened, becoming less of a smirk and more genuine.
"Sweet talker." She murmured, but held his hand even as she glanced back to Genya, who was watching them from a few paces away.
"Did we need anything else?"
"No," Genya confirmed, taking up the black, fur lined cloak that perfectly matched his own. "You're ready."
"Let's hope so," Alina murmured as Genya settled the cloak around her shoulders, fastening the clasp and making sure the high collar hid the circlet from view.
Genya gave Alina a final check over, nodding with satisfaction. Then looked to him, the Darkling raised an eyebrow as Genya gave him a once over. Alina chortled.
He stepped outside, lvan and Feydor taking up position as he turned back, holding out his hand. Alina ducked outside stepping up to his side.
"Well," She whispered, taking his hand, "Here goes,"
He smiled and walked to the docks. Ivan and Feydor falling in behind while the Oprichniki took the lead. The Grisha in the camp looked up at their passage, staring and frowning at the unfamiliar young woman at his side.
They were the last to board the skiff. The First Army riffle men already setting up at the railing or in the crow's nests with the Inferni. Zoya, one of his best squallers frowned at him, eyes searching Alina’s features. It wasn't until Ivan gave her a pointed look that she returned to her task and climbed into the wind seat.
The dignitaries kept clustered to the aft of the vessel, sheltering under the overhang, it left the prow of the vessel deserted. He took up position there, ignoring the looks that the crew and First Army rifle men were giving him and his companion. He glanced up at the wall of rolling shadow, wrestling down the uncharacteristic swell of emotion at the sight. Would today be the day he would finally turn this blight into something useful? Hope wared with caution as he scanned the dark expanse, only to be distracted as Alina squeezed his arm.
"Don't worry," She stated, her own gaze on the Fold, determination and a calm certainty the only emotion visible. He twitched a small smile and nodded.
“As you say,"
She glanced at him at that, catching his eye. "I do."
He stilled for a moment, letting her certainly wash away his doubt. Eventually he nodded, turned back and gave the sign. The plank was raised and the skiff secured, Zoya raised her hands and filled the sails, the skiff pulling away from the dock smoothly. As they entered the shadow before the Fold itself, silence fell over the occupants, all gazing up at the wall of roiling shadow.
Breaking the spell, he turned away from the Fold, unclasping Alina's cloak, handing it off to Fedyor with his own. The gold Kefta caught the last light, drawing the attention of the crew and Grisha.
Alina ignored the sudden attention, raised her hand and called forth the Light just as the prow broke the edge of the Fold. Gasps filled the skiff as her Light blossomed outward, pushing away the Dark surrounding the skiff.
The Fold closed around them, pressing up against her light, as whispers of 'sun summoner' raced among the crew. It took a screech from a nearby Volcra to draw the attention away, and the Inferni commander was quick to redirect her squad's attention back to the Fold.
The First army officer followed suit, though the Lieutenant kept sneaking wide-eyed looks at Alina, as did his men. The Grisha were more disciplined, knowing that in the Fold your only real chance at survival was keeping your wits about you and seeing to your task.
The Volcra were drawn out by the Light and circled the skiff, their large leathery wings occasionally silhouetted against the Dark. But they did not touch upon the dome of Light and the skiff travelled unmolested along the markers. As they passed the 18th marker Alina looked at him, he nodded in turn, turning to face her. He could see the dignitaries, still huddled at the back deck, gaze transfixed on Alina. He focused back on her.
"Ready?" He asked softly, she gave him the briefest hint of a smile and nodded. He stepped forward, sliding his hands onto her shoulders, fingers slipping in between the spots were the circlet rested on her skin. As they touched their connection flared to life and he could feel the power thumbing under her skin. He drew in a deep breath as he caught her gaze and let her surety settle his own doubts. She raised her hands, Light filling her palms and he pulled, adding his power to her own. The Light grew to blinding intensity, and exploded outward. Alina moved, directing the Light forward and back and he looked on as it washed over and through him.
Together they puled forth the Light needed to pierce the Dark and creating a wide tunnel that ran from Kribirsk to Novokribirsk. Through Alina he felt the tunnel breach either end of the Fold, sunlight anchoring the two ends. Alina let her hold on her power slip, light diming as the last sparks tripped off her fingers. He blinked, only now realizing the blaze of light had brought tears to his eyes. Alina gave him a soft smile, raising her own hands and gently wiping the moisture from his cheek.
Drawing a deep breath he slowly dropped his hands, only to rest them on the golden fabric on her hips, unable to let go entirely. Her hands were warm against his face as she looked up at him.
“Give it a try," She offered and he nodded, glancing sideways at the rolling dark that pressed against the wall of Light, he tugged.
The shadow responded eagerly to his call, no one noticed as the Dark would only look like more Dark to anyone else but he could feel it answer his call eagerly, echoing through the Fold, expanding his reach well beyond his usual. The Volca screamed in defiance but their cries were muffled. He looked back to find Alina giving him a gentle satisfied smile. He returned it, and as he glanced up found that half the crew was staring all but open mouthed at the tunnel, craning to try and see through to either end or were looking reverently at Alina. Even the Grisha looked at her with undisguised hope and elation.
As the last marker slid by he raised a hand, it took a moment before Zoya responded, no doubt confused as to why he was calling a halt on the lip of the Fold. Novokribisk rose up before them bathed in the late afternoon sun light. The docks were crowded with First Army men, enough that the dock crew itself had been pushed back into the square behind the docks. That square was filled with people staring at them, most seemed to be various dock and warehouse workers but town folk had come to the square as well, possibly drawn by the spectacle that had halted all movement on the docks themselves.
Standing on the forward dock, surrounded by officers was general Zhlatan. Given the distance they couldn't make out his expression, but it was unlikely he would be happy with this development. Something that become blatantly clear when Zhlatan made a sharp gesture, followed by a wave of gun retorts. Alina's arm shot up, a dome of blue light slamming into place over the skiff, the Darkling reached out, sliding a hand along the back of her neck to offer additional power should she need it.
At the same time he raised his hand, keeping the Grisha and Oprichniki from answering the assault. After a few moments the gunfire petered out as the soldiers dropped their weapons in confusion.
"Let's put on a show," Alina murmured, drawing deep on her power and bursting abruptly with Light. For a moment the ball of Light seemed formless, till it struck out it's wings. He abruptly grinned, watching a Firebird made of Light cross the sands to the dock. The soldiers startled, some raising their riffles, and firing with no result, others dropped their weapon and running or even dropping to their knees. Alina ignored them, directing the Firebird down on Zhlatan's head. The general turned, and tried to push his way through his officers.
Zhlatan gets swallowed by the fold and (obviously, ceremoniously) working together they widen the tunnel into a broad rift. With Aleksander parting the shadows of the Fold and Alina sliding light through to keep it from flaring back.
The general's second in command (colonel) welcomes the Darkling and the sun summoner to Novokribirsk. Do they send a message of unity? With the very clear display of power that was just given and Zhlatan out of the way the threat of civil war retreats but does not entirely disappear. This is also Alina's introduction to the world as a whole. Aleksander stays close to her, in part because he's worried for her, but as she takes on living saint status being at her side does rub off on his reputation as well.
The trip back was unlike any other trip between Novokribirsk and Kribirsk Zoya had ever experienced. It wasn't going to be at trip through the Fold for one. She'd gone to the docks early that morning, needing to see it again to believe it. She'd clearly not been the only one, even before sunrise the square was crowded with people. Overnight small shrines had sprung up and the hackers were already selling likeness of the Sun Summoner. But as she looked at the wide rift that split the Fold in half she could hardly find fault.
She clambered up onto the dock, finding that the Oprichniki were standing guard by the Ultra light. Normally that wouldn't have been warranted, people weren't usually eager to get on any sand skiff. Now however flowers, candles, small trinkets and baskets of sweets had been set out at their feet, and Zoya was sure the skiff itself would have been littered if not for the guard.
She glanced back to the Fold and found there were even a few brave souls that had walked across the sand to the newly formed rip as there were small piles of offerings scattered across the sand. There were even a few truely brave souls kneeling on the sand, in front of the rift, apparently praying or maybe simply waiting for the sunrise. She'd turned back and walked over to the skiff, after a brief word the Oprichniki had let her pass and she spent the rest of the early morning readying the sniff for the return journey, checking and rechecking the sails and rigging.
As the sun rose activity increased as the other skiffs were manned and readied. No doubt the shrewder merchants had realized that the safest crossing would be on the coattails of the Darkling's and Sun summoner's return journey. But it wasn't long before there were people too, clamoring for a spot on the skiffs, either desperate to see their friends and family in Kribirsk or wanting to see the sun Summoner's miracle up close.
By the time a Oprichniki came by to inform them the Darkling and Sun Summoner were on their way the square was packed, as was anything halfway capable of crossing the sands. A hush fell as the coach pulled into the square. The Oprichniki jumped down even before it came to a full halt, pushing at the crowds to create room.
Ivan, Fedyor and a number of other Grisha followed, pushing for more room before Ivan opened the door to the carriage. The Black General appeared on the step, to a hushed whisper from the crowd. He looked around briefly before stepping down and holding out a hand to the other occupant of the couch. A moment later the sun Summoner appeared on the step, she wore the same black cloak she'd worn the day before. But as it hung open her golden Kefta was clearly visible, the morning light catching on the gold embroidery. A louder rush whispered through the crowd, several spectators giving the sign of the Sun Saint and even a few of them kneeling down in the street.
She said nothing and if she was in any way uncomfortable with the display she did not show it, only turning to the General and stepping down to the street. The Oprickniki pushed out, backed by a ring of Grisha. The whispers rose to outcries of "Sankta" and it wasn’t long before the square was a well of noise. Ignoring the shouts and screaming the Darkling and Sun Summoner boarded the Ultra light followed by the Grisha and Oprichniki.
The signal to raise the plank followed and Zoya raised her hand as the sail unfurled before her. From the corner of her eye she could see the other skiffs doing the same. The general gave the sign and Zoya pulled the skiff away from the dock, the lightweight materials combined with the large sail meant she could gain speed easily, a lot easier that the fully loaded skiffs. They crossed the former threshold in minutes, entering the wide rift between the two halves of the fold.
Zoya glanced down to the deck, the Grisha and Oprickniki both stood relaxed, while they occasionally glanced at the black shadows flowing past them, the distance afforded an unusual ease for a trip across the Sands. That and likely the fact that the Darkling and sun Summoner both sat on the prow of the vessel. The fact that a game of chess had been set out along with a tea set spoke of their utter unconcern.
Zoya watched the pair with a frown. They'd both taken off the black cloaks, and formed a contrasting pair, the general straight backed and tall, dressed in a midnight black Kefta. And the girl, who looked barely a year over eighteen in a golden Kefta. She lent forward, chin in hand as she studied the board. Zoya studied the girl intently. Her face rang a bell but she couldn't quite place it, certainly the Sun Summoner had not grown up at the Little Palace. But then if she had she would have never remained hidden. The Tsar would not have allowed it.
...
The docks in Kribirsk were not as crowded, probably because they couldn't have been sure when a skiff would return. But by the time the Ultra light was being tied off at the docks the crowds were massing. There was a bit more disciplined given that the Kribirsk dock was an extension of the army camp rather than the town itself. Still, First Army massed and drew near to catch a glimpse of what they now knew was the Sun Summoner.