Alina woke in the earliest hours of the morning to a flurry of activity outside the tent; panic, chaos, action. Her first thought was good. She would not have to think about anything other than dealing with whatever this was. She was on her feet in an instant, pulling on her discarded clothes; her borrowed travelling dress was the only thing available. The Darkling was already awake and dressed, striding towards the door.

"Moi soverenyi," An oprichnik burst through the tent flaps without asking for permission - almost unheard of - thankfully after her dress was already covering everything that needed to be covered, albeit barely. "Fjerdan forces have been sighted on the horizon. As many as last time, if not more. There's no doubt it's meant as an invasion,"

Alina swore loudly, but the Darkling said nothing, brushing past the man. She hurried to keep up by his side, lacing her dress as she went. "The King was too pigheaded to send reinforcements to Ulensk after last time," She said. "Even though the council was practically begging. Please tell me you have more of the First Army than just the ones remaining from the last battle," The whole Second Army wasn't here, either; half, if they were lucky.

"We have more," He said, through gritted teeth. "But not enough,"

Shit. "Even for us..." She began, not needing to finish the sentence. "Aleksander, what - " She broke off. Even she wasn't reckless enough to be glad for the chance of a thrill like this, or perhaps the events in Os Alta had tempered her somewhat.

Having reached the edge of the camp, they both stared at the dark shadow on the northern horizon, in stark contrast to the sun just beginning to rise in the east. The dreadful roar of the Fjerdan war machines was growing. Alina was used to fighting on the Shu front, where enough Grisha could turn the tide; Fjerda had far more advanced technology. Without a miracle, they were dead.

But to the west lay a much greater shadow than the one to the north. Not a miracle. Far from it.

The Darkling was looking at it, eyes dark. "The town of Halmhend lies almost directly north of here. It's a large town. Home to ten thousand people, and a dozen prosperous mines that help fuel Fjerda's war efforts,"

Saints, you've not changed a bit. Alina glanced at him in horror, then back to the Fold, the enormity of what he was suggesting washing over her like a wave. "I'm not slaughtering a town. Even a town of Fjerdans,"

"Then everyone in this camp is dead," His voice was cold. "Your friends included. You might as well hand over the throne of Ravka to the Grimjers. I will not let that happen,"

"I didn't say I wouldn't help you," She said sharply, waving her hand without thinking to subdue his rising shadows with a slash of light. "Don't fucking threaten me, you won't win without destroying the entire camp. I'll help you move your wretched Fold. But I won't kill ten thousand civilians in their homes,"

He stared her down for a long moment, then eventually gave one curt nod, realising that was the best he would get for now. "Their army is travelling fast. We need to get there faster," He turned to the oprichnik. "Send word to Vorontsov - he now has command of both the First and Second Army here. Have him send a messenger to the Fjerdan General,"

"What would you like the messenger to say, moi soverenyi?"

The Darkling smiled in the way that always made her skin crawl. "Retreat, if he wants his country to survive the day,"

Horrible though it was, Alina couldn't help but smirk, imagining the reaction of the Fjerdan Generals to the Fold cascading towards them, having been expecting an easy massacre of the depleted Ravkan forces.

Orders had to be hastily given, horses prepared, but as soon as that was done, it was a harried, exhilarating ride from the camp to the edges of the Fold, pushing the horses as fast as they could go. Alina felt the familiar thrill of battle run through her, almost longing to turn back around and ride straight at the Fjerdans, carving through the middle and throwing herself into the fight. The sounds of two armies preparing for battle were audible even from this distance.

That, however, would be stupid. Never mind that what they were actually doing seemed even more suicidal.

The horses ended up tied to a ragged-looking tree, a hundred feet away from the Fold itself. Alina's horse had reared bolt upright and refused to go any closer, and Aleksander's had been threatening to whirl around and bolt back to the camp. So, the two of them, alone, side-by-side, approached the Fold on foot. Alina was still clad in borrowed clothes - a ragged dress, the first thing she had seen to throw on, too cold for the early autumn morning - her hair a veritable birdsnest; he wore his black kefta, tall and upright, impeccably groomed as ever.

For a second, they paused, looking up at the intimidating wall of shadow before them. She had crossed the Fold more than any other, yet going in on foot was a different kind of daunting. Worse, even. The call drawing her in was stronger when not on a skiff, and, in typical Alina fashion, that made her want to run away as far as she could.

"And you want to make this bigger," She scoffed to break the spell, shaking her head and summoning a shield of light to protect them both from the volcra.

He said nothing, just took her arm - his grip rather tight - and into the Fold they went. Bright daylight turned to pitch black. Any of the limited warmth from the rising autumn sun turned to cold darkness. All noise from the respective armies became an eerie, hushed silence, where even their footfalls and breathing sounded muffled and wrong. The distant (but increasingly closer) shrieks of the volcra were the only other sound. In unspoken agreement, neither let go of the other's arm. Walking through was indeed much worse than being on a skiff.

The first volcra crashed into the shield about a minute in, shrieking and clawing, making both of them visibly jump, moving slightly closer together. "That was embarrassing for both of us," Alina said, jaw clenched. "I fucking hate it here,"

"If it helps," He said, voice dry. "I doubt you are the only person to feel that way,"

She huffed a laugh. "How far in do we go, then?"

"I am not entirely sure," He said. "I have studied merzost in as much depth as anyone can, but there is little research on it - my grandfather appeared to be the authority on the topic, and he was a raving madman most of his life. I scarcely remember actually making the Fold - you, of anyone, would understand that," He sounded slightly amused, but her stomach twisted at the reminder of whatever it was she had made in Os Alta.

"So this is the blind leading the blind, then," Alina said. "Great. What if merzost is only able to be reached in times of great... emotion? Do you need me to stab myself through the heart?" She drew her father's hunting knife from her belt; she now carried both the one she had stolen as a child, and the identical but more well-used one she had taken after his death.

"Bold of you to assume that would elicit this hypothetical great emotion,"

She cackled, the sound echoing and distorting, no doubt attracting more volcra; already several were savagely trying to get through the shield and failing. Alina knew it unnerved the Darkling that he was reliant on her shield to survive his own creations. Not that he doubted her skill; only her mental state. She had caught him glancing up at the nasty creatures above them several times now. Not quite anxious, but... watchful.

"Oh, you can't tell me you wouldn't be furious," She said. "No more beloved Sun Summoner to win your throne for you,"

He didn't rise to it. "Having the hearts and minds of the people behind you is an important aspect of winning. But without military strength, knowledge and ambition, all your powers will do is make you a martyr,"

"If I die, you'd make me a martyr in a heartbeat," Alina said, adopting a breathy voice. "The beloved, holy sankta, who died for the good cause, whose memory will live on in the reign of the noble King Aleksander I, whom she cared for sweetly and tenderly,"

"Do you really believe that of me?" He had the nerve to sound a little offended. "Granted, I may have had you play up your role as a Sun Summoner, but never a sankta. Grisha are not divine saints, nor are they property of the church - least of all you. Any stained glass, holy books, or saintly relics of Sankta Alina would be destroyed under my reign. Never mind the fact you would sooner come back from the grave to do it yourself,"

There were times when it was easy to think of him as a monster. About two hours ago sprung to mind, when he was ready to murder a town of ten thousand people. Maybe he was a monster. But in that moment, when he sounded truly earnest, Alina could not help but lean her head on his shoulder and smile. "Sometimes, I think you know me too well,"

His arm curled around her waist and a moment or two passed in comfortable silence, before they came to a halt. "Here," He decided.

"Fine," She shrugged, stepping back then adding, "I warn you, though - break your promise and I'll drop the shield. You can fend for yourself against the volcra,"

He raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Where are you drawing the line, then, Alina? You don't want to destroy Halmhend, but what about the half a hundred small farms and villages between here and there? The more you try not to play god, the more you end up doing just that,"

"Then don't extend it north at all," She snapped. "Extend it east, towards the battlefield. It can eat up half their army for all I care, they don't have a draft. There's no one living between the camp and the Fold. If all you want to do is win the battle and demonstrate we have a weapon that could wipe out Djerholm if we so choose, that would do the job,"

"Few who know you would expect such an aversion to harsh tactics," He said, not entirely pleased. "Perhaps I was wrong, and you truly are Sankta Alina of the Bleeding Heart,"

"Not wanting to murder thousands of people, or even ten people, does not make me a saint. It makes me someone at least trying to be halfway decent. I was one of those nobodies who lived in the arse end of nowhere, once. I know what it's like to be caught between two warring countries when you'd rather the lot of them just fuck off,"

"If this is because you are still upset at accidentally killing people when you split the palace in half..."

"Of course I'm still upset. I won't have the throne you win built on blood,"

"All thrones are built on blood,"

"Then let it be the blood of paid soldiers, rather than people who just want to live their lives in peace. I don't even know why I'm arguing - I simply won't do it otherwise. And if you trick me, Aleksander, I'll leave you here to die,"

They stared at each other, eyes flashing.

The Darkling was the one to break the silence first, with a noise of disgust. "I am cursed with a Sun Summoner with opinions. Everything would have been easier from the day I met you if you were a meek little mouse of a girl; eager to please, not especially clever, happy with pretty dresses and a shiny crown,"

She had to laugh at that. "It could be worse. I could have ambition and patience. Then I'd be very happy with a shiny crown, but it would not be one to share. You're lucky I am neither of those things, and hate the idea of being Queen," Be happy you've been given an equal, not a superior or inferior, even if I am both equal and opposite.

He seemed to consider her in a different light, then. "That is true. I suppose, at the very least, despite being obnoxious and irritating, you are not dull company,"

Grinning, Alina held out her hand. "I should hope not. Shall we?"

The Darkling wordlessly took it, and she felt the power of the amplifier stronger than ever, surging through her. This wasn't like last time, back in the courtyard of the Grand Palace, clouded with confusion, heartstopping grief and insurmountable rage. This was more calm, controlled, a gradual descent into an even deeper well of power than she had tapped into before, Aleksander's hand in her own.

And, unlike last time, she surrendered to it entirely.

*

Part of Zoya had been expecting to lose the battle. A large part, if she was honest. She would fight with every ounce of strength in her body to prevent the Fjerdans barrelling straight into Ravka, but through sheer numbers alone, this seemed unlikely. They had a meagre fraction of First Army at their disposal, and less than half of the Second. The presence of Grisha would cause Fjerda significant damage, however those war machines of theirs were deadly and made fighting them much harder.

She stood beside Viktor in a trench that had been dug for the first battle, trying not to look at the bloodied, dented First Army helmet discarded near her feet. The Etherialki were positioned several lines back from the front, Squallors paired with both Inferni and Tidemakers to ensure a long range. Kasper was both further back with the Healers, ready to run in to help the injured when needed; there was no Materialki fighting unit for Katya to join, so she was there to assist the Healers in the removal of bullets and debris, and the repair of any guns. Nina was further forward with the other Heartrenders, their section interspersed with First Army.

"Where the fuck is Alina?" Viktor sounded tense. They had fought together in Fjerda, but this was a whole other scale. And Alina wasn't there. Though her friend might not like it, it was a comfort to all of them fighting beside a Grisha with all-but-mythical powers. "And the Darkling?"

Alina and the Darkling were the only edge they had, the only ones who gave anyone any hope of victory. Those who had fought alongside both of them on the Shu front had plenty of tales of how lethal both were, but for whatever reason, there were no signs of either of them today. Alina should have been here next to her, trying to blend in with the other Summoners and avoid being singled out and moved back somewhere safer. The Darkling should have been acting the General, barking orders, wordlessly taking over from the First Army commanders through force of character. Instead, the First Army General Vorontsov had been left in charge, though he did listen to advice from the Grisha commanders on how to organise their forces.

"I have faith that they're putting together some last minute master plan to save us all," She said through gritted teeth. The alternative didn't bear thinking about, and inspired a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Alina wouldn't have left," He said with confidence.

"Not willingly," Zoya said. She had been worried about Alina since they had seen her last night, very briefly, for the first time in months. She had not been herself at all; sadder, weary and ill-looking, clearly traumatised by something.

There was a pause. The Fjerdans were getting closer. Projectiles had started to be fired, denting the ground in front of them; the Etherialki, after a barked order, began to disperse this before they hit their soldiers, Squallors and Inferni blasting them back the way they came. Soon the guns would be firing and their focus would be split. She was incredibly grateful for her bulletproof kefta.

A great rumbling sound, like thunder but louder, began to grow in the west. Zoya, for a second, thought it might be some new terrible Fjerdan war machine. But no; the reality was much more hellish.

"Saints save us," Viktor said, eyes wide, as the Fold began to move.

So that was where Alina and the Darkling had gone. It took barely a few seconds for everyone to notice, and then the screams started, from both sides of the battlefield. Some, mainly First Army, began to flee. The Fjerdan advance had stopped in its tracks.

"It's not coming for us," Zoya said, with no doubt in her mind.

Sure enough, a vast, shadowy arm of the Fold was barrelling towards the Fjerdan ranks, nowhere near their own, like a targeted landslide, unstoppable and terrifying. Their leaders, in the thirty seconds that had passed, had clearly ordered a retreat, or just resigned themselves to their whole army deserting. But it was too late. In less than a minute, the entire army, that enormous, terrifying army, had vanished from view.

As the Ravkans watched in shellshocked silence, a minute passed, two, three, perhaps four. Then, the rumbling began again and the Fold retracted. Back to the way it had been before, like nothing had happened, leaving a horrifying swathe of bloodied corpses and destruction in its wake. It had not bleached the ground white and sandy; she supposed the few minutes the Fold passed over the ground wouldn't be sufficient enough to do that. Saints. There were no words for what had just happened.

No one cheered. It didn't feel right. Even though they had just won without a single casualty on their side, without a single shot fired, when they had believed their own deaths to be inevitable. They let the few ragged remains of the Fjerdan army stagger back north; it didn't seem worth going after them.

After some time, a disturbed Lord Vorontsov seemed to regain his senses and collated their forces together again, gathering the commanders and ordering everyone back to the camps. Zoya, Victor, Katya, Kasper and Nina found each other in the organised chaos, grabbing hands and linking elbows to keep from being swept apart, fighting their way over to the edge.

"Fuck," Victor's hands were shaking. "Fuck. I'm glad we're all alive but..."

"That was horrible," Nina's voice was a little shrill. "I thought for a moment it wasn't going to stop with the Fjerdans,"

Everyone hummed in agreement.

"That wasn't Alina, was it?" Kasper's face was white as a ghost. "Is that a stupid question?" She supposed he had just seen thousands of his countrymen mown down like skittles. Even if they would kill him for being Grisha in a heartbeat, that must be harrowing for anyone.

"Slightly," Zoya said, without the usual bite to her tone. "Though I doubt it was her alone,"

"Look," Katya said, pointing at the Fold in the distance; it looked as though nothing had happened. "Is that - "

Two small figures were riding at breakneck pace towards them, on the same horse; another horse, riderless, followed behind them. It was obvious who they were.

"Come on," Zoya said, setting off at a run across the pockmarked battlefield, and the others did not hesitate to follow. Rank and orders be damned, she thought for the first time in her life. They were all full of adrenaline from the anticipation of the would-be battle, as well as the fright they had from the moving of the Fold, so it felt good to run some of it off.

Something was clearly wrong, it was clear from quite a distance. The larger figure - the Darkling, of course - was not riding in his usual flawless, upright way, but was slouched and swaying. The smaller figure in front of him - Alina, surely - appeared to be unconscious, leant back against his chest.

The General reined in the horse in front of them, slipping ungracefully from the saddle, dragging Alina's prone form with him. "Healer," He barked the moment he saw Kasper's red kefta, laying their friend on the ground with considerable care, even as he fought to stay on his own feet, leaning on the horse for support.

Kasper acted at once, concerned, dropping to his knees beside Alina and waving a hand over her, falling into his professional Healer manner. "Exhaustion?" He glanced up at the Darkling.

Alina's head lolled to the side in the grass; she was still wearing that ugly, ragged dress from the night before. It was hard to reconcile the fact that these two people had the power to move the Fold. Alina looked just how she always did, albeit a lot less animated. They were only human, yet had powers much greater than that.

The man gritted his teeth. "Near complete burnout. The foolish girl never knows when to stop,"

Luckily the Corporalki classrooms seemed to teach how to deal with situations like this - Zoya did not have a clue - for Kasper just nodded and set to work with a series of complicated hand movements that didn't do much at a first glance, but slowly the colour was returning to Alina's face. If he had been incapable or incompetent, Zoya didn't much like their chances judging from the look on the Darkling's face.

"Tell me what to do to help," Nina had dropped to her knees as well - she would understand the theory, at least, even without the practice - and she and Kasper both fought to keep Alina's heart from giving out.

"Moi soverenyi," Zoya stepped forward like she was approaching a wounded animal. "Do you need any assistance yourself? Forgive me but you don't look to be in a much better state than Alina," Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Viktor and Katya eyeing her like she was insane. "I only ask," She added hastily, at the look on his face. "Because I believe Lord Vorontsov and some other commanders are riding out to meet you,"

The Darkling followed her gaze, the direction of the camp, and muttered what sounded like a curse under his breath. "Of course they are. It matters little," He forced himself to stand upright, doing a good enough impression of his usual demeanour that Zoya would be convinced if she hadn't witnessed the last five minutes. The man walked over to Alina, whose eyes were starting to flicker open thanks to Kasper and Nina's best efforts, and crouched by her side, hand on her shoulder. "Alina, wake up, or I'll tell Vorontsov you agreed to marry me,"

"F-fuck off," Came the weak groan, that made everyone present bite back a smile. "I feel... feel like a v-volcra dropped me, Ale - "

"You will not get any sympathy," The Darkling cut her off. "You did this entirely to yourself,"

Dark eyes snapped open, glaring up at him. Then she realised who else was leaning over her, and the glare turned to a grin. "Oh. Hello. What're you all doing in the Fold?"

"You're not in the Fold anymore, Alina," Nina giggled. "Look, the sky is blue,"

Her brow furrowed. "How did I get out?"

"I carried you," The Darkling said, none too pleased about this. "You passed out after you insisted on drawing the Fold back. "The shield held half a second longer than you did. It was lucky that the Volcra had eaten their fill of Fjerdans, and that we were not that far in," Ah. That explained his terrible mood.

Alina's eyes widened, much more awake than before. "Shit. Shit. I'm sorry," That was a surprise in itself; they had never seen her say as much to him before, nevermind so earnestly. "I didn't think I'd pass out. That was less power than I went into at the Grand Palace,"

"You only used your own, then. This was different, and takes more energy. You were also recovering from a long journey, lack of sleep, and have recently suffered the loss of - Alina, no,"

The girl was trying to sit up and get to her feet. "I'm not a dog," She snapped.

"Alina, you nearly died of exhaustion," Kasper grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from rising. "You're allowed to rest - you're supposed to rest,"

"Get off me, there's riders coming,"

"That's Lord Vorontsov. He's coming to meet the General,"

"And I don't want to be lying on the floor when he does. This is the first time I've met the man,"

"Alina, do not be even more foolish than you have been already today," The Darkling snapped at her. "Sit down,"

"Make me," She scoffed. "You're nearly as tired as I am, your powers will be all but useless. And you can't touch me, or I'll drain your exhausted amplifier even more," Ignoring the venomous look he gave her, that made Zoya's stomach clench in fear, she turned to Kasper and Nina. "Help me up. You can prop me between you,"

"Because that's more dignified than just sitting down. Now you look drunk," Zoya scoffed slightly, as her friend clawed her way up a hesitant Kasper and Nina onto her feet, swaying where she stood. It was a sign of how much Alina was struggling that she didn't snap back with anything.

"Belsky, Volkova, Nazyalenskaya, behind me," The Darkling said, as Vorontsov's party grew closer; they hastened to do so. He turned to Alina and the others. "At least attempt to look like you are not holding her up,"

*

It was clear that Lord Vorontsov had not spent much time in his career dealing with the Darkling, aside from through military reports or brief interactions in the field. He was a man of action, blunt for such a prominent aristocrat, disdaining court in favour of the front line. Alina rather liked him, actually, despite the fact her whole body ached and her head pounded.

"You weren't lying," He said to the Darkling, no-nonsense and doing a good job of hiding how shaken he was. "There was always a chance. I suppose in that case, as per our agreement, I should call you moi Tsar. We'd all be dead if not for the Fold today,"

At the words moi Tsar Alina felt both Nina and Kasper tense, and saw the looks on the others' faces. She had almost forgotten that they didn't know.

The Darkling inclined his head. "Alina Starkova, Lord Artem Vorontsov. I do not believe you have met,"

"Delighted to meet you, Lord Artem," She switched on her disarmingly charming court smile, just to irritate the Darkling, doing her best to not appear shaky or weak; Kasper had been continuing to Heal her throughout. "Is it alright if I call you that? Lord Vorontsov sounds so... formal," She stepped away from her friends and held out a hand, to shake not to kiss.

The man seemed caught off guard, shaking her hand unsurely. "To be blunt, you can call me whatever you like after what you did with the Fold, Lady Alina,"

She dropped her flashy smile, grinning more genuinely. "Alina is fine. I have no titles,"

"And will that change in the near future?" He looked between them, posing it as small talk when it was anything but.

"No," She replied, tone bright, smile not breaking.

There was a slightly uncomfortable pause. Viktor looked like he was suppressing a laugh. Vorontsov glanced at the Darkling, who did not react.

Alina broke the silence, unperturbed. "As much as I have enjoyed this conversation, moving a wall of shadow the size of a country and back again is tiring. I haven't even had breakfast yet,"

"You're swaying," Vorontsov noted with slight alarm, not just looking at her.

Both Alina and the Darkling scowled at that, wordlessly taking each others' arm to steady themselves.

"Prepare the camp to leave by tomorrow," He snapped. "A small force stays here, in case Fjerda has any suicidal tendencies. A smaller group travels with us, to Kribirsk. The majority moves on Os Alta. We convene outside the city in two weeks' time," He paused. "And have delegations sent to Djerholm and Ahmret Jen. They cease all attacks on Ravka and immediately withdraw their forces over their own borders, or the Fold will cut their countries in two,"

*

The moment they were back in the camp, the Darkling distracted by preparations and discussions with various important people, Zoya grabbed Alina and hauled her off to a secluded area, the others close behind. She felt a little bad, given how her friend was staggering, having to cling to Viktor's arm, but her ears were ringing slightly.

"So that's what you were doing in Os Alta," She said. "Helping the Darkling take the throne,"

Her silence was answer enough.

"Not that I'm against that," Nina said, less accusingly. "But I'd have thought you would be. So, why?"

An unusual level of rage crossed Alina's expression. "The Lantsovs deserve to burn in hell. I'd help anyone willing to make that happen,"

"What happened there, Alina?" Katya asked, concerned.

"I'm too tired for this," She mumbled. "Let me go to bed,"

"She does need to rest," Kasper said. "A lot,"

"I haven't seen you in over half a year and you come back looking like you've been through hell and back," Zoya felt the words spilling from her lips in a very un-Zoya-like fashion, unable to be held back. Was this how Alina was all the time? "I'm worried, Alina,"

She wasn't sure if her friend was going to grin and laugh it off, or snap at her and leave. It could have been either. She was not expecting an actual answer, let alone the one she got.

"They killed my father," Alina burst out with. "And it was my fault. When I realised he was dead, I accidentally used merzost to tear the Grand Palace in half, no doubt killing many more. I barely remember doing it, or the days after - the whole journey here is all but a blur. I lost my mind for a while. I was glad to be woken up by impending doom this morning, just to have a distraction from the thoughts inside my head. And I don't want sympathy, or coddling. I don't want anyone to mention it once this conversation is over. I love you all and I'm glad I'm with you again - I just want it to be like normal, so I don't have to think about it at all,"

Dead silence. Alina was breathing rather heavily, leaning against Viktor. Everyone was trying not to look too concerned.

"Alright," Zoya took a breath. "We won't mention it again. Thanks for telling us, and sorry for pushing. Just... for the record, and I won't say it again, I'm sorry that happened to you,"

"And we're here if you ever need to talk," Nina said, the others murmuring in agreement.

"Or scream and yell and hit things," Viktor grinned.

"Stop," Alina said, a little choked. "I mean - thank you, all of you," She smiled a watery smile. "But I've cried enough in the past weeks and I'm sick of it. That's going to set me off again,"

"You haven't changed a bit," Zoya said, amused. "Only you could dislike an ordinarily harsh group of people being nice to you,"

"Now get to bed before you pass out," Kasper insisted.

*

The direction of this chapter changed about fifty times before settling on this - and I had to split it in half because it had reached 8000 words haha, so it shouldn't be as long of a wait for the next one. What do you think of Zoya's POV? Thanks again for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! And thanks so much to everyone who leaves comments, they really make my day and inspire me to write more, even just a few words.