Siege and Storm (Shadow and Bone #2)(58)

Matching grins broke out on Tolya’s and Tamar’s faces. “Can’t we leave it that way for just a few days?”

“No,” I laughed. “I don’t want the whole thing caving in on us. Talk to the Fabrikators. They should know what to do.” I ran my thumb over the raised ridge of flesh that ran the length of my palm. “But don’t let them make it too perfect,” I added. Scars made good reminders.

I returned to the main common room and addressed the servant hovering in the doorway. “We’ll eat here tonight,” I said. “Will you see about trays?”

The servant raised her brows, then bowed and scurried off. I winced. I was supposed to issue commands, not ask questions.

I left Mal and the twins discussing a schedule for the watch, and crossed to the ebony doors. The handles were two thin slivers of crescent moon made of what looked like bone. When I took hold of them and pulled, there was no creak or scrape of hinges. The doors slid open without a sound.

A servant had lit the lamps in the Darkling’s chamber. I surveyed the room and let out a long breath. What had I been expecting? A dungeon? A pit? That the Darkling slept suspended from the branches of a tree?

The chamber was hexagonal, its dark wood walls carved into the illusion of a forest crowded with slender trees. Above the huge canopied bed, the domed ceiling was wrought in smooth black obsidian and spangled with chips of mother-of-pearl laid out in constellations. It was an unusual room and certainly luxurious, but it was still just a bedroom.

The shelves were empty of books. The desk and dressing table were bare. All his possessions must have been taken away, probably burned or smashed to bits. I supposed I should have been glad the King hadn’t torn the entire Little Palace down.

I walked to the side of the bed and smoothed my hand over the cool fabric of the pillow. It was good to know that some part of him was still human, that he laid his head down to rest at night like everyone else. But could I really sleep in his bed, beneath his roof?

With a start, I realized that the room smelled like him. I had never even noticed that he had a scent. I shut my eyes and breathed deeply. What was it? The crisp edge of a winter wind. Bare branches. The smell of absence, the smell of night.

The wound at my shoulder prickled, and I opened my eyes. The doors to the chamber were shut. I hadn’t heard them close.

“Alina.”

I whirled. The Darkling was standing on the other side of the bed.

I clapped my hands over my mouth to stop my scream.

This isn’t real, I told myself. It’s just another hallucination. Just like on the Fold.

“My Alina,” he said softly. His face was beautiful, unscarred. Perfect.

I will not scream, because this isn’t real, and when they come running, there will be nothing to see.

He walked slowly around the bed. His footsteps made no sound.

I closed my eyes, pressed my palms against them, counted to three. But when I opened them again, he was standing right before me. I will not scream.

I took a step backward, felt the press of the wall behind me. A choked sound squeaked free of my throat.

I will not scream.

He reached out. He can’t touch me, I told myself. His hand will just pass through me like a ghost. It’s not real.

“You cannot run from me,” he whispered.

His fingers brushed my cheek. Solid. Real. I felt them.

Terror shot through me. I threw up my hands, and light blazed over the room in a brilliant wave that shimmered with heat. The Darkling vanished.

Footsteps clattered in the room outside. The doors were thrown open. Mal and the twins charged in, weapons in hand.

“What happened?” Tamar asked, scanning the empty room.

“Nothing,” I said, forcing the word past my lips, hoping my voice sounded normal. I buried my hands in the folds of my kefta to hide their trembling. “Why?”

“We saw the light and—”

“Just a bit gloomy in here,” I said. “All the black.”

They stared at me for a long moment. Then Tamar looked around. “It is pretty grim. You may want to think about redecorating.”

“Definitely on my list.”

The twins took another glance around the room and then headed out the door, Tolya already grumbling to his sister about dinner. Mal stood in the doorway, waiting.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

I knew he wouldn’t ask me to explain this time. He shouldn’t have had to. I should have offered him the truth without having to be asked. But what could I say? That I was seeing things? That I was mad? That we would never be safe, no matter how far we ran? That I was as broken as the Golden Dome, but something far worse than daylight had crept inside of me?

I stayed silent.

Mal gave a single shake of his head, then simply walked away.

I stood alone in the center of the Darkling’s empty rooms.

Call to him, I thought desperately. Tell him something. Tell him everything.

Mal was just a few feet away, on the other side of that wall. I could say his name, bring him back, and tell it all—what had happened on the Fold, what I’d almost done to Sergei, what I’d seen just moments before. I opened my mouth, but the same words came to me again and again.

I will not scream. I will not scream. I will not scream.





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