Taking power

Part 2 - the skiff

When she awoke it was dark, the day passed on a skiff. She heard muffled voices to her left but they were echoes, distant. Alina stared up above her finding only wooden slats, splintering with age.  She was no longer lying on the dry sands of the fold.

The stench of bodies, of blood, hit her like a storm. Her breaths quickened, her eyes darting around the darkness. Panic took hold quickly as her snug position suddenly became crushing. But surely that was only mal lying next to her. She was not afraid of the darkness, it comforted her, resting its shadowy tendrils around her heart. The thing she feared was everything else. The smell clung to her nose. It was the smell of mal after he had fought bare knuckled, the smell of the stag's blood on her hands, the smell of the little palace after the darkling's attack. 

Her stomach dropped. It was the smell of pain, of death. The muffled voices became groans of pain and gurgling lungs and rattling chests. Alina looked across, shifting her neck to face mal. A pallid, bloated face greeted her. Short blonde hair clung to the face's sweaty skin. 'N-n-not mal, not mal, not mal.' she whispered to herself. But where was he if not here? Her thoughts turned dangerously dark. But no, she could not give in, not until she knew where mal was. The thought bloomed an aching flower in her chest and tears prickled in her eyes. With eyes shut tight she sucked in a breath and began shifting her body to escape.

 Now free, Alina saw where she was for the first time; a hull filled with bodies piled high. She saw a rainbow of keftas ,soiled and dirty, clinging to the bodies. Grisha bodies. The noises told her whoever was acquiring this morbid collection was not waiting for the people to die first. Indeed, she was not the only living soul fit enough to be upright in the pit. Through the darkness she saw the piercing brown eyes of a young girl suli girl. She couldn't be more than twelve. Her eyes were almost as dark as the blackness around them and yet, huddled in the corner, Alina felt only life and light coming from her. The familiar ache of power returned to Alina. Confused, she pushed it down deep underneath the pain and reached for the girl. Clasping her hand around the girl's warm brown skin, Alina pulled the her into herself. She felt the girl stiffen, then begin to shake, to tremble. Dirt and blood were caked in both their nails but neither cared. They only clung to the strangers embrace in a room full of death.

In silence the pair shifted their way over to a stairwell leading up on the far right of the hull. They took care to only step on the splayed edges of the keftas on the floor, avoiding what they clung to. Alina pushed the door, surprised to find it loose and peered out. It was the fold that peered back at her. Not destroyed in mals sacrifice or the darkling's death. Just pure darkness. Silence.

'Head east of the second. Right... now.' A gruff voice shouted.

Perhaps the silence wasn't so absolute after all. The huge man stomped over, half dragging his left leg with him towards the centre of the skiff. He was just feet away from where Alina crouched. He wore a dirty heavy overcoat, long black hair and had the unmistakable golden eyes of the Shu. He shouted to, as Alina now saw, squallers. Three of them stood, hands out, in blue keftas as the skiff veered violently to the right. 'How could they be helping these people transport grisha, their own kind?' Thought Alina. 'Not 'our' though' she thought, casting her mind back to the explosion of power she felt after mal had released morozova's power. A small hand slipped into hers, tugging Alina back into the hull. The girls eyes were wide, filled with fear.

'He looked, he saw – ' The girls voice fell silent when a pair of heavy steps came toward them. A thud followed by a dragging sound. Alina's chest tightened and she gripped the girl's hand tighter. The air felt too thick. Too hot. She felt utterly powerless. 'This is it then. I didn't die on the fold like i was supposed to do. It will be for nothing. And now i cant even protect myself. The saints have some sense of humour.' The realisation hit Alina like a rock. For the first time since waking up, she saw how she had failed, how vulnerable that failure had left her. It left her bare, alone with only fear. She felt like the girl that had been dumped at the orphanage again, helpless to the teasing and hits of the older children. And Mal wasn't here to save her this time.