Blood and Water - The Darkling

Chapter 22: What Could Have Been

*Unedited

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𝖂𝖊 arrive before the Soldat Sol i Zvezda, so we land and make camp for the night. The air is still warm enough that we don't need tents, and we lay our bedrolls next to the foot of the statue near a patchy field studded with red boulders. Mal takes Harshaw with him to try to find game for dinner. It's scarce down here as if the animals are just as wary of the Unsea as we are. They most likely are.

I wrap a shawl around my shoulders and walk down the hill to the edge of the black shore. Two days, I think as I look into the seething black mists. I know better than to think I understand what lays ahead of me. Every time I try to predict my fate, my life upends. Though I think it is a defense mechanism. Maybe some part of me already knows what will happen but is too afraid to face it.

I hear a soft scraping sound behind me. I turn and freeze. Nikolai is perched atop a high rock. He's cleaner than he had been, but he wears the same ragged trousers. His taloned feet grip the ridge of the rock, and his shadow wings beat gently at the air, his gaze black and unreadable.

I was hoping he would show himself again, but now I'm not sure what to do. I know that he's been watching us but what has he seen? How much has he understood?

Carefully, I reach into my pocket, afraid any sudden movement might make him bolt.

I hold out my hand, the Lantsov emerald resting on my palm. He frowns, a line appearing between his brows, then folds his wings and leaps soundlessly from the rock. I don't flinch, don't back away. I don't want to be afraid, but the way he moves is so inhuman. Remember that this is still Nikolai, my best friend.

He stalks toward me slowly, eyes focused on the ring. When he is less than a foot away, he cocks his head to one side.

Despite the black eyes and the inky lines that course up his neck, he still has an elegant face—his mother's fine cheekbones, the strong jaw that must have come from his ambassador father. His frown deepens. Then he reaches out and plucks the emerald up in his claws.

"It's—" The words die on my lips. Nikolai turns my palm over and slides the ring onto my finger.

My breath catches between a laugh and a sob. He recognizes me and maybe, it's not just the piece of the Darkling within him. I can't stop the tears that well in my eyes.

He points to my hand and makes a sweeping gesture. It takes me a second to grasp his meaning. He's imitating the way I move when I summon.

"You want me to call the light?"

His face stays blank. I let light pool in my palm, glowing blue swirling around gold to form white. "This?"

The glow seems to galvanize him. He seizes my hand and slaps it against his chest. I try to draw away, but he holds my hand in place. His grip is viselike, made stronger by whatever monstrous thing the Darkling placed inside him.

I shake my head. "No."

Again, he slaps my hand against his chest, the movement almost frantic.

"I don't know what my power will do to you," I protest.

The corner of his mouth curls, the faintest suggestion of Nikolai's wry smile. I can almost hear him say, Really, lovely, what could be worse? Beneath my hand, his heart beats—steady and human.

I release a long breath. "All right," I said. "I'll try."

I summon the barest bit of light, letting it flow through my palm. He winces but holds my hand firmly in place. I push a little harder, trying to direct the light into him, thinking of the spaces between, letting it seep through his skin.