Sun Queen

♛ Twenty-Nine ♛

I daze at the stars passing by through a hole in the tarp, taking in the wine dark sky. The wafting smell of sea sticks inside my nose, which means we must be staying by the coast. I try to enjoy my last night sky. It's oddly cold to imagine my own death. I was honestly hoping to die on the way there, but I'll only be a few hours now. The thought has no meaning to me, just bouncing around my husk of a mind. I couldn't keep a thought for long, not with the fever sucking away most of my energy.

A hollow slapping sound echoes through the fabric and I curl my hands around my ears, breathing in and out slowly to calm myself. My chest burns with each breath and my throat is so dry it feels like it's made of sand. I can't talk, just whimper when ever the road grew bumpier.

There's a growl, but another slap doesn't follow. Mal was struggling to keep up and every once in a while I would hear a slap or the soft thud of a boot connecting with body.

Just breathe in and out, I think. I have to use all my energy to stay awake.

We must have rode through most of the night because the sky was a sickly pale shade of paisley when the wagon finally stopped. I pull myself up from my curled ball position and try to focus my blurry eyes in preparation. The Grisha man from before loops around the wagon and grabs me by the chain between my shackles, dragging me out.

I almost smash to the dirt road, but the Grisha man yanks me back. I totter around before settling upright, hands on fire from where the chains ripped further into my skin.

Mal's being unhooked from the horse. Bright handprints are scattered around his face, bruises lining his jaw and eyes. Given the way he looks at me, I take it I'm not much better.

My back cracks slowly as I stretch and I take a second to look around. I was right about being near the sea. The wagon is stopped on the edge of a beach, a gray sea lapping at the grainy sand. Not a forest in sight, just these flat hills and hills of dead grass. It's a depressing sight.

The beach is mostly deserted except for a single boardwalk. My eyes trace up it's barnacle covered wood and I suck in a short breaths.

A ginormous boat rocks gently in the small waves. The Darkling's symbol flaps in the harsh winds, slapping against the ship's three masts. My head starts to spin at the sight.

The wagon ride had taken so long and I was distracted by my fever, I had never had to accept the fact that I was back.

Mal and I had been gone barely three weeks and now we were right back where we started. The thought presses down on my chest like a weight and I have to take a few breaths to stop the continuous head spinning.

Mal must share the same sentiments because he gives me a look as the other men push him past me. The Grisha man holding my shackles tightens his grip as Mal walks away, but I know it's useless to run after him.

I keep Mal's look burned in my mind, the last look I'll ever get. It wasn't a smile, but it fills me with the same joy. His eyes were steady and comforting. He knew I was panicking and he had to be the one to hold it together.

I watch as the men pull him into the lower levels of the boat, it's shadows and dark wood swallowing him up. A shiver tingles at the small of my back and I swallow it down.

Once Mal is out of sight, the tall Grisha man starts to pull me towards the main dock, away from the lower levels. He's much more careful now that he is under the eye of the crew. Should the Darkling hear I was being mistreated......

I hate to think what would happen to that person.

I walk numbly behind him, trying to hold Mal's image in my head. I hold to tight to the image of his bruised face tightly. It's not how I would like to imagine the last look he gives me, but I couldn't ask for more.

My feet trip weakly up the dock stairs. The fever makes it hard to walk, let alone walk up stairs. The Heartrender man has to drag me most of the way. Once my feet are solidly on the deck, I sway for a moment.

My eyes soak in the sheer size and my body rocks back and forth from another swell of the fever. But my gaping mouth is shut down by the Heartrender man, pulling me down the deck.

Wide eyed Grisha watch as I pass by, mouths open and always watching. The whole deck must have pauses to watch me walk. Whispers gather like swarms of bees, following me. The kefta hides my fever well from them, my pale, sweaty skin and pained expression hidden under the grayed purple folds of fabric.

The Grisha man leads me towards the back of the boat, where a a huge captain's quarters sits, hanging off of the bait. The building is strange, devoid of windows. It's giving it a trapping, boxed look. The Heartrender stops before the set of double doors and even pauses before knocking. I can see the sweat gathering in his thick grey speckled beard. We stare at the dark wooden doors, little eclipses engraved in it's center. I try not to think too hard what the eclipse means.

My stomach churns when I think of who is behind those doors. I fear I may end up hurling onto the deck if I have to wait much longer. Will the Darkling see the fever oozing out of me? I have no doubt I look like hell. I sure feel like it.

The engraved doors suddenly swing open with such vigor, they slam against the outside wall. I force myself to look up slowly, feeling like I did in the throne room not long ago. It's like the same nightmare all over. The Darkling stands in the doorframe, grinning widely down at us.

The Heartrender stiffness, "The-"

The Darkling raises his hand to stop the man and the Grisha man looks like he's just had his throat cut. "I'll take her from here, thank you."

Before I can speak, my chain is passed to the Darkling and I'm stumbling over the door frame. The Darkling moves to close the doors behind me and I take a few steps into the quarters. My weak legs wobble and a little and I have to remind myself to breath.

Suddenly I find silence.

The Darkling doesn't say a word but I'm aware of his presence behind me. I don't say anything either, just shaking slightly as I face the wall opposite of the doors. My chest is aching from keeping the cries in. Saints, I feel so useless. A mouse in a trap. My vision goes a little fuzzy with frustration for a second, then I'm snapped back.

"Alina, a lovely surprise." He still doesn't move and I flinch at his tone. Wolves run from that voice.

The air thickens and I starting to silently gulp in it. I can't keep my mind on the Darkling and my fever, so I'm just left scattered and confused. It doesn't help that my headache pounds on, determined to make me scream with the pain.

No, hold it together, you can't let him know you're sick. You have to die. The words echo dully in my mind and it's as if I'm hearing them for the first time now. My breath quickens and I can't help thinking, I don't want to die.

I start to pray to any Saint willing to listen.

I'll miss you Mal, but I'm so grateful for the time we had. Please watch over him and make sure he doesn't mourn me.

"I must admit, I was quite angry when you left."

He deserved better.

"And after all we've been through."

And protect Ravka, from the threats within and outside.

"Answer m-"

Thank you.

I crash to the floor. My body stiffens and freezes before it hits the ground. I gasp for breath and my chest capsizes, my throat constricting in pain. I can't see, hear, smell, or feel anything. I'm like a husk of a body.

Thank you, I echo again, crying into my mind.

Swift as the grim reaper, the dark swoops in and I'm gone.