EIGHT.FIVE

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before

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before

Katya extended her arms towards the water, willing it to move as she rotated her hands in a familiar movement. Anything would have done, a ripple, a tiny wave – she would've even been happy if all the water exploded out of the fountain and soaked her.

    But the water didn't move, and so Katya shut her eyes in frustration, sighed, and tried again.

    She turned her attention to the blooming trees around her, brows fixed in concentration, and – she failed again. She had been at it so long that she'd missed lunch, and no doubt Zoya was somewhere around the castle grounds, looking for her.

Sometimes, Katya hated Zoya, because Zoya had kept her alive for the past six months. It wasn't that she thought the Darkling would've let her die, but she ate because of Zoya, she slept because of Zoya, she kept trying because of Zoya. Where the Darkling had kept her alive, Zoya didn't want her to stop living.

    She tried again to move the water. Failed. Cried out her frustration. Tried to call an angry wind. Failed.

    It was futile; everyone who could help, she'd already seen. Baghra, the other Grisha teachers, the oldest living amplifiers, even the Darkling himself, all had tried to find a solution, and all had come up with nothing. They told her she was the only one with the power to help herself and patted her shoulders.

    Despite her determination to see her for sessions every morning, Katya could tell even ancient Baghra was starting to lose hope. They sat in the hut for hours on end, sometimes until a servant was sent to fetch Katya for dinner, and still, Katya couldn't summon as much as a drop of water, or the kindest breeze.

    And everytime, when evening came around, she had to watch the disappointed tick in the Darkling's face as she let him know about her lack of progress. He said he didn't care, that it would come back to her with time, but Katya knew the truth. What good was a Grisha with no power?

    Her train of thought abruptly ended as the ruffling of leaves caught her attention. No one was ever on this side of the grounds, and that was why she'd chosen to spend her time there, but now – She followed the sounds, and dropped to the floor at once as a boy emerged from the woods.

    Forcing herself to master her panic, Katya took out her knife. It was a blade of Grisha steel, a gift from Botkin, the combat teacher, and she'd started wearing it strapped to her thigh six months ago.

    In complete silence, she listened for his steps, one, two, three, then he stopped. She hoped he hadn't seen her, that he'd turn and go back to where he'd come from.

    "If you're hiding from me, don't worry, I've already seen you."

    In the clearing, only the soft swish of the water could be heard as the boy dipped his hand in. Katya stood down, quiet as a mouse, certain that he was baiting her. It was like that for a long while, the silence loud between them.

    Then, "I'm going to come around to your side, okay? Please don't attack me. I saw you're wearing a kefta."

    She was, though there was no reason for it now. Now she was as plain as any otkazat'sya, if not more.

The boy came around the fountain slowly, hesitantly. His shoes were old and beaten, mended time and again, and Katya found herself looking up at him. The rest of his clothes were only slightly better, but he didn't look like he belonged at the palace, and if he did, he couldn't have been more than a stablehand, or some other kind of servant.

She was especially suspicious of his face, because he was smiling at her even as his eyes slid to the knife Katya was still gripping in her hand. He didn't look too old, and definitely not much older than her.

He smiled again, "Hello there. I didn't mean to scare you."

Katya bared her teeth, "You didn't scare me."

"Then why are you holding a knife?"

Reluctantly, she put the knife away. The boy's smile became more infuriating by the second. "What do you want?"

Why wasn't he going away?

"Honestly, I was looking for a place to hide, but –"

More rustling, and then another set of steps stopped him. "Dominik, have you been hiding here this whole time?"

The boy, Dominik, shrugged, and Katya breathed in relief when his eyes didn't turn back to her. "You're not very good at hide and seek, I was starting to think you got lost."

So, whoever was on the other side, was his friend. She found herself afraid to move, lest Dominik remember she was there.

"It's a good place," said the other boy. "We could have a picnic here."

But Dominik shook his head, "Maybe some other day. My mother's waiting for us, remember." He looked down, shooting Katya a conspirative smile. "Let's go."

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