Grisha 02 - Siege and Storm

“Grisha are born, not made,” growled Tolya.

Of course, I thought with an internal sigh. He would choose now to come out of his shell.

“And who are you?” asked Sergei, his natural arrogance showing through.

Tolya’s hand went to his curved sword. “I am Tolya Yul-Baatar. I was raised far from this corpse of a palace, and I’d be happy to prove that I can stop your heart.”

“You’re Grisha?” Sergei asked incredulously.

“As much as you are,” replied Tamar, her gold eyes flashing.

“And what about you?” Sergei asked Mal.

“I’m just a soldier,” Mal replied, moving to stand beside me. “Her soldier.”

“As are we all,” added Fedyor. “We returned to Os Alta to serve the Sun Summoner, not some posturing boy.”

Another Corporalnik got to his feet. “You’re just one more coward who fled when the Darkling fell. You have no right to come here and insult us.”

“And what about her?” cried another Squaller. “How do we know she isn’t working with the Darkling? She helped him destroy Novokribirsk.”

“And she shared his bed!” shouted another.

Never deign to deny, said Nikolai’s voice in my head.

“Just what is your relationship with Nikolai Lantsov?” demanded a Fabrikator.

“What was your relationship with the Darkling?” came a shrill voice.

“Does it matter?” I asked coolly, but I could feel my control slipping.

“Of course it does,” said Sergei. “How can we be sure of your loyalty?”

“You have no right to question her!” shouted one of the Summoners.

“Why?” retorted a Healer. “Because she’s a living Saint?”

“Put her in a chapel where she belongs!” someone yelled. “Get her and her rabble out of the Little Palace.”

Tolya reached for his sword. Tamar and Sergei both raised their hands. I saw Marie draw her flint and felt the swirl of Summoner winds lift the edges of my kefta. I thought I’d been ready to face them, but I wasn’t prepared for the flood of rage that coursed through me. The wound in my shoulder throbbed, and something inside me broke free.

I looked at Sergei’s sneering face, and my power rose up with clear and vicious purpose. I raised my arm. If they needed a lesson, I would give it to them. They could argue over the pieces of Sergei’s body. My hand arced through the air, slicing toward him. The light was a blade honed sharp by my fury.

At the last second, some sliver of sanity pierced the buzzing haze of my anger. No, I thought in terror as I realized what I was about to do. My panicked mind reeled. I swerved and threw the Cut high.

A resounding crack shook the room. The Grisha screamed and backed away, crowding against the walls.

Daylight poured in through a jagged fissure above us. I’d split the golden dome open like a giant egg.

A deep silence followed as every Grisha turned to me in terrified disbelief. I swallowed, astonished by what I’d done, horrified by what I’d almost done. I thought of Nikolai’s advice and hardened my heart. They mustn’t see my fear.

“You think the Darkling is powerful?” I asked, startled by the icy clarity of my voice. “You have no idea what he is capable of. Only I have seen what he can do. Only I have faced him and lived to tell about it.”

I sounded like a stranger to my own ears, but I felt the echo of my power vibrating through me, and I pushed on. I turned slowly, meeting each stunned gaze.

“I don’t care if you think I’m a Saint or a fool or the Darkling’s whore. If you want to remain at the Little Palace, you will follow me. And if you don’t like it, you will be gone by tonight, or I will have you in chains. I am a soldier. I am the Sun Summoner. And I’m the only chance you have.”

I strode across the room and threw open the doors to the Darkling’s chambers, giving silent thanks that they weren’t locked.

I walked blindly down the hall, unsure of where I was going, but eager to get far from the domed hall before anyone saw that I was shaking.

By luck, I found my way to the war room. Mal entered behind me, and before he shut the door, I saw Tolya and Tamar taking up their posts. Fedyor and the others must have remained behind. Hopefully, they’d make their own peace with the rest of the Grisha. Or maybe they’d all just kill each other.

I paced back and forth in front of the ancient map of Ravka that ran the length of the far wall.

Mal cleared his throat. “I thought that went well.”

A hysterical hiccup of laughter escaped my lips.

“Unless you intended to bring the whole ceiling down on our heads,” he said. “Then I guess it was just a partial success.”

I nibbled my thumb and continued pacing. “I had to get their attention.”

“So you meant to do that?”

I almost killed someone. I wanted to kill someone. It was the dome or Sergei, and Sergei would have been a lot tougher to patch up.

“Not exactly,” I admitted.

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