Blood and Water - The Darkling

Chapter 11: Rogues

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𝕿𝖔 my surprise, Alina and Mal disappear only to return with Sturmhond and a Materialnik in tow. Her hair is in braids and she's yawning like a sleepy child but I know she's most likely the best Fabrikator on this vessel. Tolya and Tamar trail behind, carrying lanterns to help the Fabrikator at her work. If we survive whatever comes next, everyone aboard the Volkvolny will know about the second amplifier. Good, let them know that we are a force to be reckoned with.

"Evening, all," Sturmhond greets, slapping his hands together, seemingly oblivious to the somber mood. "Perfect night for tearing a hole in the universe, no?"

I chuckle, "Hasn't that already been done? The Shadow Fold..."

Alina scowls at both of us and slips the scales from her pocket. They gleam golden in the lamplight.

The captain reaches my side and hands me my finished amplifier, one shining cuff. I carefully grab it by the fabric it's wrapped in.

"Do you know what to do?" my twin asks the Fabrikator.

"Of course she does, Alina," I deadpan. "Have you not noticed what's in my hand? Albeit it has latches, but I prefer it that way."

The Fabrikator nods but has my sister turn to show her the back of her own collar. Its surface is near perfect, unlike mine, there is no seam or metal connecting the two sides.

Alina hands the scales to Mal, who holds one out to the Materialnik.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asks. She is gnawing on her lip so aggressively, that she may draw blood.

"Absolutely not, but it's exciting, no?" I say at the same time Sturmhond replies, "Of course not. Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea."

He and I share an amused look.

The Fabrikator plucking the scales from Mal's fingers distracts us. She rests them against Alina's wrist and bends to her work.

I watch in fascination as their edges begin to come apart and then re-form. One after another, they mold together, fusing into an overlapping row as the fetter grows around my sister's wrist. The Fabrikator works in silence, her hands moving infinitesimal degrees. Tolya and Tamar keep the lamps steady, their faces so still and solemn they might be icons themselves. Even the captain has gone quiet.

Finally, the two ends of the cuff are nearly touching and only one scale remains. Mal stares down at it, cupped in his palm.

"Mal?" Alina says.

He doesn't look at her but touches one finger to the bare skin of her wrist, the place where her pulse beats, where the fetter will close.

"The suspense is killing me," I mutter. "Just get on with it Mal."

Then he hands the last scale to the Fabrikator.

In moments, it's done.

Sturmhond peers at the glittering cuff of scales. "Huh," he murmurs. "I thought the end of the world would be more exciting."

Slowly, I unclasp my own and slip it onto my wrist. A rush of warm power floods me the moment I clip it into place.

My twin and I share a brief nod.

"Stand back," I say.

The group shuffles over to the rail.

"You too," Alina tells Mal. Reluctantly, he complies. I see Privyet peering at us from his place by the wheel. Above, the ropes creak as the men on watch crane their necks to get a better view.