Blood and Water - The Darkling

Chapter 4: Pretender

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ✷ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ✷ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ☽ ☪ ☾ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ✷ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ✷ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

𝕴𝖛𝖆𝖓 leads us through the crowd towards the black coach that will whisk us away from our mundane lives. Alina struggles the whole trek, attempting to convince the menacing Grisha that this is a huge mistake. The pounding of my heart makes me feel as though I am underwater, only really going along with what is happening around us like seaweed caught in a current.

I'm jarred back into reality by the screams of my twin. We're in the coach, driving away. She's yelling through the back window to who I assume to be Mal. Eventually, I grab her and pull her into my arms.

"It's going to be ok Lina, I'm here. I'll always be by your side," I say with a gentle squeeze.

"No, everything is not ok Lana!" she hisses back at me before swinging towards Ivan. "So we're the Darkling's prisoners now?"

The Heartrender barely spares us a glare when he answers, "You're under his protection."

"What's the difference?" Alina responds.

Ivan's expression is unreadable, "Pray you never find out."

My twin scowls and slumps back into me, then hisses in pain. I release my hold on her and quickly begin fussing over her wounds. How could I forget that the volcra had its claws in her?

"See to her," Ivan says to the female Corporalnik. Her cuffs are embroidered in Healer's gray.

The woman switches places with the oprichniki to Alina's right so she can sit beside her. I watch in awe as she heals my sister's wounds. An unwanted thought swirls around my head: maybe learning to use my abilities won't be such a horrible idea.

Once she is done, the coach stops at the edge of the camp. The Grisha woman shifts, signaling she's about to get out.

"Wait, give her your kefta and have another Grisha provide a second one," Ivan says to the Healer before she can fully exit through the door.

The woman frowns but hesitates only a moment before she shrugs out of her red kefta and hands it to Alina. I can see a flash of sadness cross her face before she finally leaves. A short moment later another Grisha leans in and hands me a blue kefta.

Knowing the rumors that Materialki can craft bulletproof fabric, I waste no time in slipping into it. My sister does not follow suit.

"Put on the kefta," Ivan orders.

"Why?" is my twin's response.

"Alina!" I hiss and elbow her lightly in the ribs. "Just do it."

"Listen to your sister. It's made with Materialki corecloth. It can withstand rifle fire."

"So the rumors are true then. Do you all wear this stuff?" I ask as Alina pulls on the kefta.

"When we're in the field. Just don't get shot in the head," Ivan replies with a condescending grin.

"We'll have less trouble with that than you, I would imagine. Seems like you have quite the large target," I say with a sly smirk. It takes him a moment to comprehend the veiled insult but surprisingly I notice amusement sparkle in his eyes.

A comfortable silence forms between us. I use this opportunity to actually observe my surroundings. The kefta feels too large. It's soft but unfamiliar, the fur lining warm against my skin. I would be lying to myself if I said that it didn't feel right. Perhaps I am accepting this too fast. Saints know that Alina definitely isn't.

The coach picks up speed. A glance outside indicates that dusk has fallen and Kribirsk is long behind us. I shift my focus onto my twin. She seems to be holding back tears. Once again I grab her hand in mine, giving her as much comfort as our current situation will allow.