“What are your terms?” I asked.
Mal frowned. Tolya shook his head. I didn’t care. I knew it might be a ploy, but if there was even a chance of saving their lives, I had to take it.
“Give yourself up,” said the Darkling. “And they all go free. They can climb down that rabbit hole and disappear forever.”
“Free?” Sergei whispered.
“He’s lying,” said Mal. “It’s what he does.”
“I don’t need to lie,” said the Darkling. “Alina wants to come with me.”
“She doesn’t want any part of you,” Mal spat.
“No?” the Darkling asked. His dark hair gleamed in the lamplight of the chapel. Summoning his shadow army had taken its toll. He was thinner, paler, but somehow the sharp angles of his face had only become more beautiful. “I warned you that your otkazat’sya could never understand you, Alina. I told you that he would only come to fear you and resent your power. Tell me I was wrong.”
“You were wrong.” My voice was steady, but doubt rustled in my heart.
The Darkling shook his head. “You cannot lie to me. Do you think I could have come to you again and again, if you had been less alone? You called to me, and I answered.”
I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing. “You … you were there?”
“On the Fold. In the palace. Last night.”
I flushed as I remembered his body on top of mine. Shame washed through me, but with it came overwhelming relief. I hadn’t imagined it all.
“That isn’t possible,” Mal bit out.
“You have no idea what I can make possible, tracker.”
I shut my eyes.
“Alina—”
“I’ve seen what you truly are,” said the Darkling, “and I’ve never turned away. I never will. Can he say the same?”
“You don’t know anything about her,” Mal said fiercely.
“Come with me now, and it all stops—the fear, the uncertainty, the bloodshed. Let him go, Alina. Let them all go.”
“No,” I said. But even as I shook my head, something in me cried out, Yes.
The Darkling sighed and glanced back over his shoulder. “Bring her,” he said.
A figure shuffled forward, draped in a heavy shawl, hunched and slow-moving, as if every step brought pain. Baghra.
My stomach twisted sickly. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she have gone with Nikolai? Unless Nikolai had never made it out.
The Darkling laid a hand on Baghra’s shoulder. She flinched.
“Leave her alone,” I said angrily.
“Show them,” he said.
She unwound her shawl. I drew in a sharp breath. I heard someone behind me moan.
It was not Baghra. I didn’t know what it was. The bites were everywhere, raised black ridges of flesh, twisting lumps of tissue that could never be healed, not by Grisha hand or by any other, the unmistakable marks of the nichevo’ya. Then I saw the faded flame of her hair, the lovely amber hue of her one remaining eye.
“Genya,” I gasped.
We stood in terrible silence. I took a step toward her. Then David pushed past me down the altar steps. Genya cringed away from him, pulling up her shawl, and turned to hide her face.
David slowed. He hesitated. Gently, he reached out to touch her shoulder. I saw the rise and fall of her back, and knew she was crying.
I covered my mouth as a sob tore free from my throat.
I’d seen a thousand horrors on this long day, but this was the one that broke me, Genya cringing away from David like a frightened animal. Luminous Genya, with her alabaster skin and graceful hands. Resilient Genya, who had endured countless indignities and insults, but who had always held her lovely chin high. Foolish Genya, who had tried to be my friend, who had dared to show me mercy.
David drew his arm around Genya’s shoulders and slowly led her back up the aisle. The Darkling didn’t stop them.
“I’ve waged the war you forced me to, Alina,” said the Darkling. “If you hadn’t run from me, the Second Army would still be intact. All those Grisha would still be alive. Your tracker would be safe and happy with his regiment. When will it be enough? When will you let me stop?”
You cannot be helped. Your only hope was to run. Baghra was right. I’d been a fool to think I could fight him. I’d tried, and countless people had lost their lives for it.
“You mourn the people killed in Novokribirsk,” the Darkling continued, “the people lost to the Fold. But what of the thousands that came before them, given over to endless wars? What of the others dying now on distant shores? Together, we can put an end to all of it.”
Reasonable. Logical. For once, I let the words in. An end to all of it.
It’s over.
I should have felt beaten down by the thought, defeated, but instead it filled me with a curious lightness. Hadn’t some part of me known it would end this way all along?
The moment the Darkling had slipped his hand over my arm in the Grisha pavilion so long ago, he’d taken possession of me. I just hadn’t realized it.
“All right,” I whispered.