The skiff surged forward, heading straight into the abyss of the Fold. The air grew colder as they approached the dark mass, and Valeriya could feel tension ripple through every heartbeat around her. Zoya had moved back to the front, taking her place like she always did—shoulders squared, defiant against the encroaching shadows. Valeriya, restless by the rail where she'd been perched, followed suit and joined Zoya at the bow. There wasn't a specific spot assigned to her on the skiff; her only job was to sense and stop the volcra before they tore through the crew.

The First Army sergeant's voice rang out again, stiff with authority. "Listen up, cartographers! Until we reach the western dry docks, you are to remain at your station. Do not—under any circumstance—leave the skiff during the crossing."

Valeriya glanced at the cartographers huddled together, their nerves almost palpable. Their quickened breaths and erratic heartbeats buzzed in her ears. She could have calmed them with a flick of her fingers, but conserving her strength was wiser. The Fold demanded every ounce of focus and power.

A gust of wind caught a piece of fabric and sent it spiraling off the edge of the skiff—blue, fluttering like a lost bird. The Shu girl, her eyes wide with worry, reached out instinctively, realizing too late that it was her scarf. Valeriya's gaze tracked the fabric as it disappeared into the dark mist. She hoped it wasn't something sentimental, but in this place, losing anything was foolish and dangerous.

The soldiers lined the railings, guns ready, though everyone knew those weapons wouldn't do much against volcra. But it was their comfort, their shield against the nightmares waiting in the dark, and Valeriya couldn't begrudge them that.

"In we go," Natacha's voice whispered from behind Valeriya, a low murmur that sent a shiver up her spine. Valeriya silently prayed to the Saints—whether she truly believed or not, a little hope couldn't hurt. She looked calm on the surface, but inside she was a roiling mess. Even after multiple crossings, the Fold still turned her insides to ice.

Darkness swallowed them whole, smothering the skiff in shadows so thick they felt alive. Valeriya blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim blue light cast by the lantern at the mast. It barely illuminated the deck, and beyond the skiff, everything was an inky void. She tuned in to the heartbeats surrounding her, letting Zoya's steady rhythm anchor her amidst the encroaching dread.

Thunder rumbled, distant and foreboding, while the shrieks of the volcra echoed all around, impossible to pinpoint. The Inferni and Squallers left the safety of the covered area, moving to their positions at the rail, ready to unleash fire and wind when the creatures attacked. Valeriya stayed in the center, her senses stretched thin, searching for the volcra's distinct, unnatural presence.

She was the only Heartrender aboard, her role more symbolic than practical. Heartrenders weren't much use against volcra—there was no heart to stop, no blood to manipulate. Darkness flowed through their veins instead of life. Still, Valeriya could sense them, even track their twisted breathing patterns, and that alone made her a valuable asset.

Overhead, a Squaller named Eliza maintained the sails with determined focus. Valeriya admired her concentration, even if it seemed misplaced given the nightmare that was brewing.

A shadowy wreck loomed to the left, marking the first checkpoint. "Marker one," Natacha murmured.

"How many more are there?" a shaky voice asked from the group of cartographers.

"Thirty-seven," Natacha replied, her voice a ghostly breath in the dark. The questioner's heartbeat spiked in response, a flutter of fear.

A growl cut through the silence, close enough to make Valeriya's skin prickle. She tilted her head, trying to catch sight of the creature. A volcra's silhouette swooped overhead, its wings cutting through the darkness like a blade. It circled the skiff, teasing the edge of their senses. Zoya's pulse quickened—a rare sign of unease that mirrored Valeriya's own.

Tension coiled tighter as the creature drew nearer, and the soldiers cocked their rifles, fingers twitching on the triggers. Useless as they might be, those guns were their last line of defense, a fragile barrier against the horrors lurking just out of sight.

Then, the blue light at the mast flickered out. Valeriya whipped her head toward it, alarm flashing through her. Saints, no. Not now.

"No," Natacha breathed, her voice swallowed by the blackness. Valeriya couldn't see her anymore, but she could feel the dread rolling off her in waves.

A faint clicking sound caught Valeriya's attention. Her heart skipped a beat—she knew that sound too well. Another click, then a small flame flared to life from a lighter. It illuminated the face of a boy—one of the cartographers. Panic surged through Valeriya as he lit a lantern in his trembling hands, the tiny flame an unwelcome beacon in the dark.

Natacha's hushed pleas fell on deaf ears as the boy's shaky hands lifted the lantern higher. A shadow loomed behind him, and Valeriya's blood ran cold. A volcra landed silently on the deck, its grotesque form barely visible in the dim light. In one swift motion, it seized the boy, lifting him effortlessly into the air. His scream tore through the night, raw and desperate, as the lantern crashed to the ground, igniting parts of the skiff and bathing the chaos in flickering orange light.

Valeriya barely had time to process before more volcra descended, snatching soldiers and Grisha alike. Eliza, the Squaller at the sail, was next—dragged away with a scream that was cut short as the creature's claws crushed her ribs. Zoya's pulse hammered in Valeriya's ears, a frantic rhythm that mirrored her own rising fear.

The skiff was engulfed in mayhem—flames licking the edges of the deck, screams echoing in every direction, and volcra diving in for fresh prey. Valeriya fought desperately, channeling her power to twist and break the volcra that came too close. Even if they didn't bleed, she could still do damage—dislocating joints, shattering bones. But it wasn't enough. The creatures were relentless, and for every one she struck down, two more took its place.

In the midst of the carnage, Valeriya's eyes locked onto a blinding burst of light. It radiated from the Shu girl, a brilliant glow that pierced the darkness. For a split second, Valeriya wondered if it was real, but before she could confirm, her world spun. An Otkazat'sya soldier panicked, swinging his rifle wildly. The butt of the gun smashed into Valeriya's head, and everything went black.

When she awoke, it was to the sight of a healer hovering over her and Zoya's familiar, furious glare. The skiff had somehow made it back to Kribirsk, though how, she couldn't remember.

The pit in Valeriya's stomach deepened as Zoya leaned in, her voice cold as ice, delivering the one revelation that would change everything.

"Sun Summoner."