General Kirigan was transporting the girl—Alina, Valeriya reminded herself—back to Os Alta. Light had burst out of her, confirming what everyone feared or hoped for. She could no longer just think of Alina as "the Shu girl" now that she had a name and a dangerous power.

Unfortunately for Valeriya, the Darkling had specifically requested her as one of the three Heartrenders to escort Alina in the coach. While Alina got the luxury of the Darkling's coach, Valeriya would've preferred riding horseback. Zoya, lucky as ever, would be heading to Os Alta ahead of them.

When Valeriya arrived at the coach, she stepped inside and was immediately greeted by Fedyor's beaming face. She returned his smile, but seeing him meant the third Heartrender had to be Ivan, the perpetual sourpuss. The man was a total bastard, but she tolerated him for Fedyor's sake. They were all of the same order, after all. As Valeriya and Fedyor exchanged pleasantries, she heard Ivan's voice barking orders outside the coach.

Leaning forward, Valeriya saw Ivan standing by the door, glaring at Alina. "You heard me. Get in," he commanded, his tone flat and impatient.

The guards shoved Alina forward, and she glanced back at them, defiant. "No."

Ivan's expression was a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Excuse me?"

"There's been a mistake," Alina continued stubbornly. "I need to find Mal."

Mal. That must've been the boy on the skiff with her. Valeriya couldn't believe Alina was seriously defying one of the Darkling's orders. Even if Valeriya could easily take Ivan in a fight, she wouldn't dare push him like this. Ivan's loyalty to Kirigan made him dangerous in a way few others were.

"The General does not make mistakes," Ivan said, stepping closer until he towered over her. "His orders are to get you to the Little Palace immediately. Now, get in the coach."

"Everyone makes mistakes. Do I look important to you?"

Ivan's eyes narrowed. "You look like trouble, which is almost the same. Move."

"Wait! Malyen Oretsev, he's in the medic tent," Alina persisted. "I need to speak to him. I'm going to speak to him."

Alina tried to walk away, but Ivan blocked her path, clearly running out of patience. "Listen to me," he hissed. "Every spy in the area knows what you did, and our enemies will come for you. Our only chance is to get you behind palace walls before you're killed. Get in the coach."

The warning seemed to break through Alina's stubbornness, and she finally climbed into the carriage, seating herself beside Valeriya. Ivan followed, taking a seat across from them next to Fedyor. Alina didn't acknowledge Valeriya, instead staring out the window, scanning the crowd for Mal.

As the coach started moving, Alina banged on the window. "Mal!" she shouted, her eyes wide with desperation.

Outside, a boy—limping, but determined—tried to chase after the carriage, yelling her name. Valeriya sighed at the display. Young love was nauseating.

Trying to be helpful, Valeriya handed her kefta to Alina. She draped it over herself without even noticing what she was doing, too focused on shouting through the glass. "No, stop! I didn't know!" she cried.

Fedyor gently tried to pull her back into her seat, but she swatted him away. It was going to be a long ride.

Meanwhile, back on the dock, Zoya approached Mal, who was standing there with frustration etched across his face. "Are you two close?" she asked, her tone almost teasing as she sauntered closer. "Is she the friend you ran off to?"

Mal ignored her, his voice tense. "Where are they taking her?"

Zoya's expression softened slightly. "She'll be fine," she reassured him. "She's in good hands."

Inside the coach, the silence grew awkward. Valeriya could feel the tension crackling in the air. Fedyor, ever the peacemaker, leaned toward Ivan and nudged him with his elbow, gesturing to the girls.

"Ivan," he said softly, "introduce us."

Ivan rolled his eyes but relented. "This is Fedyor," he muttered with a nod in his direction.

Fedyor's smile remained as bright as ever. "Pleasure to meet you."

Alina barely glanced at him, pulling Valeriya's kefta tighter around herself. Valeriya tried to lighten the mood. "I'm Valeriya," she offered, waving slightly.

Alina's response was just as cold, making it clear she wasn't interested in small talk. Honestly, didn't they teach basic manners in the orphanage? Valeriya wondered. Even she knew it was polite to reply when someone greeted you.

Fedyor, not deterred, continued cheerfully, "They call this a kefta. It's bulletproof."

"The uniform of the Second Army," Valeriya added, hoping to get more than just silence from Alina this time. But the girl remained tight-lipped, rubbing what looked like an old scar on her hand.

Finally, Alina spoke, her voice trembling slightly. "What about the First Army? A thousand soldiers marched with us. Isn't that safer?"

Ivan let out an exasperated sigh. "Slower, not safer. Not really." He turned to gaze out the window, signaling the conversation was over.

Fidgeting with the hat covering her braids, Valeriya silently urged the carriage to move faster. Ivan, usually chatty, was brooding, his gaze occasionally flicking Valeriya, who narrowed her eyes at him with every glance. Fedyor, ever the optimist, hummed to himself in an attempt to break the silence.

Ultimately Alina was the one who broke the silence. She leaned forward, seemingly pleased that the three Heartrenders decided to converse with her. "If you left me with the cartography unit, no one would look twice at us."

Ivan kept his gaze fixed out the window. Feydor glanced at him before looking at Valeriya, seeking her opinion on addressing the matter. She nodded as a way to say 'this one's all yours'.

"Why is that?" He asked, his voice calm and filled with admiration, "You summon pure sunlight. Your kind of Etherealki has just been a theory, a picture in a storybook." He paused, trying to let his words sink in. "Until now. You're a very special girl, so how has no one looked twice at you before?"

"You have a power inside you greater than any one of us, one that has never known control," Valeriya added, a bit of skepticism added to the latter portion of her statement. She still wasn't sure about the girl never showing signs before the trip to Fold, but it was clear from her display with the Darkling, this girl could harness the god-damn sun.

"Are you joking?" Alina replied, glancing back and forth between Valeriya and Feydor, "Maybe it's nicer inside the Little Palace, but out here, when you're different, when you look different, everything's at risk of becoming a fight."

There was a defensive tone to her voice and an accusatory look on her face. Valeriya really wanted to fire back with a sarcastic comment, but Ivan spoke before she could get the chance. Bastard.

"Do you know why the Little Palace has walls in the first place?" Ivan questioned, matching the girl's attitude and tone, "Hmm? Because for years, being Grisha was a death sentence. At least now, thanks to General Kirigan, we're protected. Feared. And that's how we survive. Not by being overlooked, but by making them look, and knowing you're powerful."

The smirk on Ivan's face as he talked about power made Valeriya's skin crawl. Men like him are why power shouldn't be so easy to obtain.

"I've survived long enough without your protection. Thank you," Alina clapped back.

Thankfully, Feydor spoke up (not before giving Valeriya a 'keep your mouth shut' look). "But you wouldn't last a minute now that you are you. All of Ravka has been waiting for you." He smiled at her, a sympathetic smile gracing his face.

Alina sighed and leaned back against the seat next to Valeriya, "I get it. The whole country wants to see the Fold gone."

"But it's bigger than that. You are a hope for the country, yes, but a myth comes true for a Grisha. It was a Grisha who created the Fold. If a Grisha destroys it, maybe - Maybe we wouldn't need those high walls to protect us anymore.

Suddenly the carriage came to a stop, almost launching Valeriya into Fedyor's lap.

"The road is blocked!"

Everything next happened too fast for Valeriya to pay any attention to what the boys and Alina were saying. Something about keeping her ass in the carriage?

Valeriya followed the boys out of the carriage where they were met with the other Grisha from the convoy. There was a quiet hum in the forest creating a tense atmosphere.

It was shattered with the first whistle of an arrow.

It struck the lead Grisha cleanly, dropping him before anyone could react. The convoy froze for a heartbeat, then chaos erupted. Arrows sliced through the air like unseen predators, slamming into wood, flesh, and earth. Grisha scrambled for cover, their hands sparking with elemental fury as shouts of alarm rang out.

"Drüskelle!" The cry cut through the noise, sharp and damning.

The attackers emerged from the trees like wraiths clad in fur-lined armor, their faces hardened and focused. Fjerdan witch-hunters. These weren't opportunistic bandits; these were warriors honed to counter Grisha, their strikes deliberate and cruel.

"Stay behind the carriage!" yelled Valeriya, her voice sharp and steady despite the chaos. Her skirt flared behind her as she stepped forward, her hands already raised.

She moved with precision, fingers curling as though pulling invisible strings. An archer high in the trees clutched his chest and toppled, his convulsions cutting short any return fire. A second drüskelle rushed her, axe in hand, but he didn't make it halfway before collapsing, gasping for air that his lungs could no longer find.

"On your right!" came a sharp warning from another Heartrender - Margo.

Without missing a beat, she turned, her hand lashing out. The charging hunter stopped mid-stride, his heart seizing under her unyielding grip. He fell like a marionette with its strings cut.

The drüskelle weren't easily deterred by the threat of Heartrenders. They surged forward, harpoons arcing through the air. One struck Valeriya in the side, the force driving her to the ground. She clutched at the wound, blood seeped through her fingers.

Another Heartrender - Yelena wasn't as lucky to be faced with a harpoon. A net laced with bone-charms tangled around her, disrupting her focus as she fought to free herself. Her movements grew frantic as a drüskelle advanced, axe raised, his grim intent clear.

"Focus, Yelena!" shouted a Squaller. With a sweeping motion, he sent a gust of wind surging forward, throwing the hunter off balance and giving Yelena the opportunity to free herself from the net.

Then came the Darkling. Valeriya wasn't sure what he did - too focused on trying to heal her wound. After some commotion the Druskelle were neutralized and Fedyor was helping her up as the final pieces of her skin stitched back together.

"The Darkling has Alina," Ivan said as Valeriya and Fedyor arrived at their carriage.

Valeriya nodded, quickly getting in and sitting in her spot. Valeriya leaned back, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander. Thankfully, the rest of the journey was uneventful.

Without her kefta, Valeriya's inventory of her state included the nasty slice to her side and a lot of bruises. She did her best to neaten up the hasty healing of her gash, but she wasn't a healer so she was left with a nasty scar.

So she drifted off to a light slumber, dreaming of her nice comfy bed at the Little Palace.