𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖞 || 𝕲𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊 || 𝕽𝕿𝕭 || 𝕹. 𝕷𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖘𝖔𝖛

𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖊 - 1.3

Face Claim for Malia Betshnovi: McKenna Grace

𝕴𝖓 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍:
"Dramatic piece of moronic stupidity."
-𝖆 𝕲𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖆 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖙𝖊𝖗

I woke with a start. I could feel the rush of skin on my skin, and I opened my eyes to see what looked like dark clouds of smoke. I was on my back, on the deck of the skiff. It took me a moment to realize that the clouds were getting thinner, giving way to dark wisps and, between them, a bright autumn sun.

“You got out of the Fold,” Van Eck breathed. “Wha– But– How?”

“Did you not hear the last chapter, or are you just stupid?” Kaz asked, bluntly.

Van Eck glared at the boy. ‘How could a seventeen year old street rat think that he is better than me?’ he thought.

“Maybe because he is,” Adalinah mumbled.

I closed my eyes again, feeling relief wash over me.

“That doesn’t last long,” Adalinah commented, getting looks from everyone in the room. “What? I’m just telling the truth!” she cried indignantly.

We’re on our way out of the Fold, I thought. Somehow, we made it through. Or had we? Memories of the volcra attack flooded back to me in a frightening rush. Where was Mal?

Mal paused reading, and looked up. “Actually, yeah. Where am I?” he asked, almost fearfully. Inside, Mal felt like if he had died then he couldn’t be there to protect Alina, or to find out his weird connection to the redhead sitting a few seats away from him.

I tried to sit up when a bolt of pain shot through my shoulders. I ignored it and pushed myself up. I found myself looking down a rifle barrel.

“Why the hell would someone be pointing a barrel of a rifle at me?” Alina cried.

“Get that thing away from me,” I snapped, batting it aside.

The soldier swung the rifle back around, jabbing it threateningly at me.

“Stay where you are,” he commanded.

“What exactly is going on?” Alina asked, confusion written clearly on her face.

“The Sun Summoner was on the skiff,” the Darkling realized, awe in his voice.

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner,” Adalinah cheered, sarcastically.

I stared at him, stunned. “What’s wrong with you?”

“She’s awake,” he shouted over his shoulder. He was joined by two more armed soldiers, the captain of the skiff, and a Corporalnik. With a thrum of panic, I saw that the kuffs of her red kefta were embroidered in black. What did a Heartrender want with me?