Siege and Storm (Shadow and Bone #2)(101)

“You don’t know anything about her,” Mal said fiercely.

“Come with me now, and it all stops—the fear, the uncertainty, the bloodshed. Let him go, Alina. Let them all go.”

“No,” I said. But even as I shook my head, something in me cried out, Yes.

The Darkling sighed and glanced back over his shoulder. “Bring her,” he said.

A figure shuffled forward, draped in a heavy shawl, hunched and slow-moving, as if every step brought pain. Baghra.

My stomach twisted sickly. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she have gone with Nikolai? Unless Nikolai had never made it out.

The Darkling laid a hand on Baghra’s shoulder. She flinched.

“Leave her alone,” I said angrily.

“Show them,” he said.

She unwound her shawl. I drew in a sharp breath. I heard someone behind me moan.

It was not Baghra. I didn’t know what it was. The bites were everywhere, raised black ridges of flesh, twisting lumps of tissue that could never be healed, not by Grisha hand or by any other, the unmistakable marks of the nichevo’ya. Then I saw the faded flame of her hair, the lovely amber hue of her one remaining eye.

“Genya,” I gasped.

We stood in terrible silence. I took a step toward her. Then David pushed past me down the altar steps. Genya cringed away from him, pulling up her shawl, and turned to hide her face.

David slowed. He hesitated. Gently, he reached out to touch her shoulder. I saw the rise and fall of her back, and knew she was crying.

I covered my mouth as a sob tore free from my throat.

I’d seen a thousand horrors on this long day, but this was the one that broke me, Genya cringing away from David like a frightened animal. Luminous Genya, with her alabaster skin and graceful hands. Resilient Genya, who had endured countless indignities and insults, but who had always held her lovely chin high. Foolish Genya, who had tried to be my friend, who had dared to show me mercy.

David drew his arm around Genya’s shoulders and slowly led her back up the aisle. The Darkling didn’t stop them.

“I’ve waged the war you forced me to, Alina,” said the Darkling. “If you hadn’t run from me, the Second Army would still be intact. All those Grisha would still be alive. Your tracker would be safe and happy with his regiment. When will it be enough? When will you let me stop?”

You cannot be helped. Your only hope was to run. Baghra was right. I’d been a fool to think I could fight him. I’d tried, and countless people had lost their lives for it.

“You mourn the people killed in Novokribirsk,” the Darkling continued, “the people lost to the Fold. But what of the thousands that came before them, given over to endless wars? What of the others dying now on distant shores? Together, we can put an end to all of it.”

Reasonable. Logical. For once, I let the words in. An end to all of it.

It’s over.

I should have felt beaten down by the thought, defeated, but instead it filled me with a curious lightness. Hadn’t some part of me known it would end this way all along?

The moment the Darkling had slipped his hand over my arm in the Grisha pavilion so long ago, he’d taken possession of me. I just hadn’t realized it.

“All right,” I whispered.

“Alina, no!” Mal said furiously.

“You’ll let them go?” I asked. “All of them?”

“We need the tracker,” said the Darkling. “For the firebird.”

“He goes free. You can’t have both of us.”

The Darkling paused, then nodded once. I knew he thought he would find a way to claim Mal. Let him believe it. I would never let it happen.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mal said through clenched teeth.

I turned to Tolya and Tamar. “Take him from here. Even if you have to carry him.”

“Alina—”

“We won’t go,” said Tamar. “We are sworn.”

“You will.”

Tolya shook his huge head. “We pledged our lives to you. All of us.”

I turned to face them. “Then do as I command,” I said. “Tolya Yul-Baatar, Tamar Kir-Baatar, you will take these people from here to safety.” I summoned the light, letting it blaze in a glorious halo around me. A cheap trick, but a good one. Nikolai would have been proud. “Do not fail me.”

Tamar had tears in her eyes, but she and her brother bowed their heads.

Mal hooked my arm and turned me around roughly. “What are you doing?”

“I want this.” I need it. Sacrifice or selfishness, it didn’t matter anymore.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I can’t run from what I am, Mal, from what I’m becoming. I can’t bring the Alina you knew back, but I can set you free.”

“You can’t … you can’t choose him.”

“There isn’t any choice to make. This is what was meant to be.” It was true. I felt it in the collar, in the weight of the fetter. For the first time in weeks, I felt strong.

He shook his head. “This is all wrong.” The look on his face almost undid me. It was lost, startled, like a little boy standing alone in the ruin of a burning village. “Please, Alina,” he said softly. “Please. This can’t be how it ends.”