“You too,” I told Mal. Reluctantly, he complied. I saw Privyet peering at us from his place by the wheel. Above, the ropes creaked as the men on watch craned their necks to get a better view.
I took a deep breath. I had to be careful. No heat. Just light. I wiped my damp palms on my coat and spread my arms. Almost before I’d formed the call, the light was rushing toward me.
It came from every direction, from a million stars, from a sun still hidden below the horizon. It came with relentless speed and furious intent.
“Oh, Saints,” I had time to whisper. Then the light was blazing through me and the night came apart. The sky exploded into brilliant gold. The surface of the water glittered like a massive diamond, reflecting piercing white shards of sunlight. Despite my best intentions, the air shimmered with heat.
I closed my eyes against the brightness, trying to focus, to regain control. I heard Baghra’s harsh voice in my head, demanding that I trust my power: It isn’t an animal that shies away from you or chooses whether or not to come when you call it. But this was like nothing I’d felt before. It was an animal, a creature of infinite fire that breathed with the stag’s strength and the sea whip’s wrath. It coursed through me, stealing my breath, breaking me up, dissolving my edges, until all I knew was light.
Too much, I thought in desperation. And at the same time, all I could think was, More.
From somewhere far away, I heard voices shouting. I felt the heat billowing around me, lifting my coat, singeing the hair on my arms. I didn’t care.
“Alina!”
I felt the ship rocking as the sea began to crackle and hiss.
“Alina!” Suddenly Mal’s arms were around me, pulling me back. He held me in a crushing grip, his eyes shut tight against the blaze around us. I smelled sea salt and sweat and, beneath it, his familiar scent—Keramzin, meadow grass, the dark green heart of the woods.
I remembered my arms, my legs, the press of my ribs, as he held me tighter, piecing me back together. I recognized my lips, my teeth, my tongue, my heart, and these new things that were a part of me: collar and fetter. They were bone and breath, muscle and flesh. They were mine.
Does the bird feel the weight of its wings?
I inhaled, felt sense return. I didn’t have to take hold of the power. It clung to me, as if it were grateful to be home. In a single glorious burst, I released the light. The bright sky fractured, letting the night back in, and all around us, sparks fell like fading fireworks, a dream of shining petals blown loose from a thousand flowers.
The heat relented. The sea calmed. I drew the last scraps of light together and wove them into a soft sheen that pulsed over the deck of the ship.
Sturmhond and the others were crouched by the railing, their mouths open in what might have been awe or fear. Mal had me crushed to his chest, his faced pressed to my hair, his breath coming in harsh gasps.
“Mal,” I said quietly. He clutched me tighter. I squeaked. “Mal, I can’t breathe.”
Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked down at me. I dropped my hands, and the light disappeared entirely. Only then did he ease his grip.
Tolya lit a lamp, and the others got to their feet. Sturmhond dusted off the gaudy folds of his teal coat. The Fabrikator looked like she was going to be sick, but it was harder to read the twins’ faces. Their golden eyes were alight with something I couldn’t name.
“Well, Summoner,” said Sturmhond, a slight wobble to his voice, “you certainly know how to put on a show.”
Mal bracketed my face with his hands. He kissed my brow, my nose, my lips, my hair, then drew me tight against him once again.
“You’re all right?” he asked. His voice was rough.
“Yes,” I replied.
But that wasn’t quite true. I felt the collar at my throat, the pressure of the fetter at my wrist. My other arm felt naked. I was incomplete.
* * *
STURMHOND ROUSED HIS CREW, and we were well on our way as dawn broke. We couldn’t be sure how far the light I’d created might have stretched, but there was a good chance I’d given away our location. We needed to move fast.
Every crewman wanted a look at the second amplifier. Some were wary, others just curious, but Mal was the one I was worried about. He watched me constantly, as if he was afraid that at any moment, I might lose control. When dusk fell and we went belowdecks, I cornered him in one of the narrow passageways.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Really.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. I can feel it.”
“You didn’t see what I saw. It was—”
“It got away from me. I didn’t know what to expect.”
He shook his head. “You were like a stranger, Alina. Beautiful,” he said. “Terrible.”
“It won’t happen again. The fetter is a part of me now, like my lungs or my heart.”
“Your heart,” he said flatly.