.ೃ࿐Burning Souls.ೃ࿐ [1]

16 - Ryevost

RYEVOST

It was a crowded day. Too crowded even. The mass of people moved all at once. It was so chaotic, people were walking in all directions, bumping into each other, dropping things...

A great place to get robbed, truly.

But that wasn't Ekaterina's main concern. She learned to deal with big crowds and robbers in Ketterdam, with the West Stave and the annual carnival. The Inferni's main concern was what could be hidden in the crowd. Ever since her light feet touched the ground of the city, the bad feeling arose in her stomach.

The Grisha had decided to break up into duos. Ekaterina remained alone; the group being composed of an odd number of people. She didn't mind, she liked working alone.

She walked around the main square and towards the market, careful not to attract attention. She pretended to look at the multitude of fruits that the merchants presented in the morning market, even bought a few to ease her empty stomach.

There were too many people.

Too many threats, thought Ekaterina, too many possibilities of it going wrong.

And still, there was no sign of Alina or Lukas or Tolya and Tamar... not even Zoya. There was no one. And Ekaterina felt there would be no one.

And still, with a heavy heart, she stayed. She didn't want to go back. A part of her was afraid that the young Saint would miraculously show up and there would be no one to greet her. Another part of her was afraid of going back to the cathedral in the mountains, not wanting to endure the cold and lonely nights anymore.

Too much danger, thought the Inferni again as she scanned the crowd, yet too many reasons to stay.

It was only when her eyes caught the small thread of darkness floating in the sky that she realized the truly great danger she had put the rest of the Grisha and herself in. She turned to walk away. Not run. Walk away. Running would have only put unwanted attention on herself.

But it was too late. The people of Ryevost recognized the danger. And they all panicked.

"The Darkling!"

Ekaterina turned to look at the man that shouted. An old man, he was. His hand was pointing in the air at the growing threads of darkness. As the words left his mouth, chaos erupted. Real chaos.

The people started running around, trying to get to safety. They fell, tripped over each other, pushed each other around. It was madness.

Ekaterina pulled the hood of her coat lower and slid in a small and dark alley, almost invisible. Almost. She walked away, hoping that the other Grisha were already at the ship. Her footsteps were calculated yet rushed. She felt her hand tremble underneath her leather gloves and the chatter of her teeth grew louder and louder in her head.