“Come with me, Alina Starkov. There are secrets buried deep.”
Could he possibly be telling the truth? Or would he just hand me over to the Darkling?
“Alina!” Mal’s voice sounded from somewhere on the other side of the hedge.
“I’m here!” I called.
Mal burst into the courtyard, pistol drawn. Tamar was right behind him. She’d lost one of her axes, and there was blood smeared over the front of her cloak.
The Apparat turned in a musty whirl of cloth and slipped between the bushes.
“Wait!” I cried, already moving to follow. Tamar bolted past me with a furious roar, diving into the hedges to give chase.
“I need him alive!” I shouted at her disappearing back.
“Are you all right?” Mal panted as he came level with me.
I took hold of his sleeve. “Mal, I think he has Morozova’s journals.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“I can handle an old priest,” I said impatiently. “Did you hear what I said?”
He drew back. “Yes, I heard you. I thought you were in danger.”
“I wasn’t. I—”
But Tamar was already striding back to us, her face a mask of frustration. “I don’t understand it,” she said, shaking her head. “He was there and then he was just gone.”
“Saints,” I swore.
She hung her head. “Forgive me.”
I’d never seen her look so downcast. “It’s all right,” I said, my mind still churning. Part of me wanted to go back down that alley and shout for the Apparat, demand that he show himself, hunt him through the city streets until I found him and pried the truth from his lying mouth. I peered down the row of hedges. I could still hear shouting from the party far behind me, and somewhere in the dark, the bells of the convent began to ring. I sighed. “Let’s get out of here.”
We found our driver waiting on the narrow sidestreet where we’d left him. The ride back to the palace was tense.
“That brawl was no coincidence,” said Mal.
“No,” agreed Tamar, dabbing at the ugly cut on her chin. “He knew we would be there.”
“How?” Mal demanded. “No one else knew we were going. Did you tell Nikolai?”
“Nikolai had nothing to do with this,” I said.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because he has nothing to gain.” I pressed my fingers to my temples. “Maybe someone saw us leaving the palace.”
“How did the Apparat get into Os Alta without being seen? How did he even know we would be at that party?”
“I don’t know,” I replied wearily. “He said the faithful are everywhere. Maybe one of the servants overheard.”
“We got lucky tonight,” said Tamar. “This could have been much worse.”
“I was never in any real danger,” I insisted. “He just wanted to talk.”
“What did he say?”
I gave her the barest description, but I didn’t mention Morozova’s journals. I hadn’t talked to anyone except Mal about them, and Tamar knew too much about the amplifiers already.
“He’s raising some kind of army,” I finished. “People who believe that I’ve risen from the dead, who think I have some kind of holy power.”
“How many?” Mal asked.
“I don’t know. And I don’t know what he intends to do with them. March them against the King? Send them to fight the Darkling’s horde? I’m already responsible for the Grisha. I don’t want the burden of an army of helpless otkazat’sya.”
“We’re not all quite so feeble,” said Mal, an edge to his voice.
“I didn’t … I just meant he’s using these people. He’s exploiting their hope.”
“Is it any different than Nikolai parading you from village to village?”
“Nikolai isn’t telling people that I’m immortal or can perform miracles.”
“No,” Mal said. “He’s just letting them believe it.”
“Why are you so ready to attack him?”
“Why are you so quick to defend him?”
I turned away, tired, exasperated, unable to think past the whir of thoughts in my head. The lamplit streets of the upper town slid by the coach’s window. We passed the rest of the ride in silence.
* * *
BACK AT THE LITTLE PALACE, I changed clothes while Mal and Tamar filled Tolya in on what had happened.
I was sitting on the bed when Mal knocked. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, looking around.
“This room is so depressing. I thought you were going to redecorate.”
I shrugged. I had too many other things to worry about, and I’d almost gotten used to the room’s quiet gloom.
“Do you believe he has the journals?” Mal asked.
“I was surprised he even knew they existed.”
He crossed to the bed, and I bent my knees to make room for him.
“Tamar’s right,” he said, settling by my feet. “That could have been much worse.”
I sighed. “So much for seeing the sights.”
“I shouldn’t have suggested it.”
“I shouldn’t have gone along with it.”
He nodded, scuffed the toe of his boot along the floor. “I miss you,” he said quietly.