Morozova's Stag

ONCE UPON A TIME, A WOMAN CAME TO KETTERDAM. A story told a thousand times. There was nothing particularly unique about her. She would disappear into history. Lost to all but one. Barely eighteen, hardly prepared, the barrel's perfect pigeon. Her name was Vera. She was beautiful, and kind, and perhaps that was her first mistake.

When Vera arrived, she could neither read nor write. No one took it upon themselves to change that. It's easier to trick people into signing forms if they didn't know what it said and you could tell them whatever you wanted. Vera came for the profit that flowed from Ketterdam. Instead she was picked up by one of the barrel's many pleasure houses, which in the years to come would become equally forgotten.

Then there was the boy. A nameless boy that would out last his mother and his birthplace.

Vera did her best for her son. She wasn't meant to keep him — a child distracted from her "work" — but she didn't have the heart to get rid of the boy. Only a child, he'd never survive. So he spent his days running the streets of Ketterdam, never too far and never too in the way so he wasn't stolen away. The boy didn't always quite listen, because even as a young child he knew he caused his mother struggles. From the second the boy could run, he had his fingers in stranger's pockets. Vera never asked where the money came from.

At night the boy squeezed through a hole in the wall, as he was still small enough to do so, and stay with his mother. There she would tell him stories. Stories of her home, coast Kerch town where the streets smelled of salt and sea. Stories of foreign saints and local legends. The only story she wouldn't tell was the one the boy often asked for. About his father.

There were bad men in the world, Vera said, terrible men who would hurt you just because they could. Because they decided they owned you, and there's nothing you could do about it. That was the most Vera would say about his father. The boy could work out the rest.

Talking about such things always made Vera sad. Most things made Vera sad. The boy tried his best to make his mother happy. Once he found an opening into the the university library. It was then the boy learned an important secret — once you were in, you could act like you belong and no one would ask question. The boy had meant to bring stories home, and he did to her concern and secret enjoyment, but he found himself enthralled in the books he found.

There were books about everything. From sewing to politics. Books in every language. Vera herself couldn't read, so the boy had to teach himself. Soon he was the one reading his mothers stories.

It was a sign, the boy would think years later, of the end. When he began to grow up.

Ten years old. The boy awoke with a cough and a fever so high he could barely think straight. Vera couldn't put him out in the street. He'd have spent the day huddled in a corner growing sicker and sicker, an easy target for thieves.

The boy was hidden in her clothes closet. He whimpered and pulled his knees to his chest. There was no space to move. Dust filled the air at the slightest movement. It made his eyes water and an already stuffy nose grew worse. Pressure burnt against his cheeks. He was too hot. Too cold. Everything hurt. He could barely breath, but if he did the men would hear him, the boy was certain, even if he could barely hear his own thoughts over their noise.

It continued, day after day. The boy only grew worse. They needed medicine. They needed a medik. Yet Vera barely had money to not be forced into debt, let alone take a child she wasn't meant to have to a healer.

There was little of this time the boy remembered of this time. It was all in a haze. He cried a lot when he could. Most of the time he couldn't. The boy wanted his mother. He wanted his books. Anything other than the dark, dusty cabinet.

This was the end.

Vera knew she was putting the boy in danger, but her other choice was to let him die. She snuck out that night for medicine. She found it. Then she was found.

They were in trouble. The boy more than he knew. Because the woman in charge was angry, yes, but she was clever. She saw the boy as yet another marketing ploy. So for the moment she allowed Vera to nurse him back to health...to be used for her own gain.

Even now, eight years later, the boy would admit he couldn't understand his mother's choice. She never got to explain. He made up his own reasons of course. Pleasure houses wanted attractive young people to draw in the crowd. She took a knife to his face because maybe, just maybe, if it would be enough to make them reject him. Enough to save him from her own fate.

Because Vera loved him. His mother, she loved him. She said so every night. She wouldn't just do something like that.

It had worked. At once the boy was dumped in the barrel, no longer of use. He would never see his mother again. Instead he found the Dregs. A new family, and with that a name.

At least that was the story Minke Rademaker told when Serafima asked him what had happened to his face that night. He stared at the table, silent. Serafima took a deep breath. It was a lot. More than she had expected from Minke. It was easy to think he'd mouthed off the wrong person and was punished for it. Harder to accept it was his mother. His mother for reasons he would never know (because, as hopeful as Minke had seemed, Serafima didn't believe his excuse.)

"And Kaz..." Serafima started.

"He knows," Minke laughed dryly. "Of course he knows. He'd asked for my name and I'd made it up. Cornered me the next day, all upset because he couldn't find anything about me. I told him the truth. He was eleven, sure, but he was damn scary even then," Minke said.

"I'm sorry..." Serafima said.

"For what?"

Serafima shrugged. She had called him sensitive, yet never wondered why. It had just seemed stupid. Minke was always vain and proud. It was easy to assume that was what it was. All it was. Maybe she felt bad about that.

"Why exactly are you telling me this?" Serafima asked.

"Hmm. Good point, guess I'll have to get rid of you now," Minke said. Serafima jumped to her feet and he burst into laughter. "I'm kidding! Because you're my friend. I trust you, is that so hard to believe?"

Serafima reluctantly lowered herself back into her seat. Maybe it was a little hard to believe, because she didn't trust Minke. Not really. Why would Minke trust someone who didn't trust him? Unless he thought she did? It was an idea that caused a pang of guilt. So Serafima decided to ignore it.

☼ ☼ ☼

THEY STOPPED FOR THE NIGHT. It was between two ledges, which worked to keep off the harsh winds that whipped around them. A thin layer of frost has formed over the grass. Thankfully, that was all. Mal has a pack that likely included sleeping bags galore, spares upon spares, but not even they would save them if the ground was covered in snow.

Mal hissed as he dumped the pack off his shoulder. Nonna perked up.

"What happened to your shoulder?" Alina asked.

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Mal insisted.

"So you wouldn't mind if I checked?" Nonna raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm fine."

Said, of course, in the least fine voice he could have managed. Nonna shook her head. Whatever. She wasn't going to bruise his ego...yet. Of course if he kept complaining about it she'd have to make him let her check, because wounds left untreated would heal wrong, but for the night she could let him pretend he tricked her.

Alina, however, would do no such thing.

"I know that voice," Alina said.

"What voice?" Mal said, suddenly making a conscious effort to change his tone.

"The voice you use when you're not fine," Alina said. "Come on. Nonna can heal you, she's very good at it."

"I'm fine," Mal insisted once more. He stood, draping one of his many coats over Alina's shoulders. Nonna was starting to suspect he'd worn so many for this very purpose. "I'm just...hungry."

"Ah, let's cool some dinner, then," Alina said.

"Bad idea," Nonna interrupted. She felt rude saying it until Mal nodded in agreement. "They'll still be looking, smoke from a fire will give us away."

"Then the ashes when we leave will tell them where we've been," Mal added.

Alina looked between the two suspiciously. "So...we starve. That'll show 'em."

"You won't starve in a night, Alina," Nonna said with a scoff.

Mal responded by digging through his pack. Soon enough he was passing out food. The hard, dried meat the army sent on long exposition, wrapped in a thin foil. Nonna groaned as she flipped the small block over in her hand. She hated these things. Alas, it seemed to be all they had.

"The trick will be not to freeze," Mal said.

"I can help with that," Alina said. "Give me your hand."

Mal obeyed. Alina took a deep breath and cupped her hands around his. A small ball of light came to life. Mal's eyes widened as he looked between Alina's grinning face and the light that seemed to be hovering inches from his own hands.

"No smoke."

"They taught you how to control it?" Mal asked.

"Don't be scared," Alina said.

"Your powers don't scare me," Mal insisted.

"Is it me, then?" Alina asked, hurt clear in her voice. "Do I scare you?"

"No. Of course not. Why would you think that?"

"'Cause I've seen it," Alina was on the brink of tears. "In your eyes. In Kribirsk."

Mal looked down at the light in their hands. Careful not to make a sound, Nonna pulled herself closers to the pack, going through it for anything to help with sleeping for the night. She hated this kind of talk. How easy it was for your friends and family to turn against you just for your gift. How easy to was to suddenly become the monster in the eyes of those you love.

More so, Nonna was growing to hate this new dynamic of theirs. Twice now she'd been the outsider. Some stranger, rudely spying in on their moment.

"I'm sorry that it took me this long to see you, Alina," Mal finally said. "But I see you now."

☼ ☼ ☼

THEY WERE READY TO GO. Serafima resented the idea, but they didn't have time to look for Alina any longer. Soon the general would be on top of them. It was better to leave empty handed than get caught. So they rigged an explosive in their carriage, a gift for the general, if you will, and prepared horses for their escape. When it went off? They fled in the chaos.

A bang. The crowd around them erupted in fearful chatter and made for the exits. So did they.

"Split up," Kaz ordered. "It's easier to take a grisha on one on one than a whole squad of them. Rendezvous at the fountain."

They excited with the crowd...only to come face to face with the team of grisha. Two heartrenders, a squaller, and an inferni. They'd come prepared. Inej's face tightened as her eyes fell on the inferni. Maybe they'd had a coordinated plan to capture the crows, but it all fell apart in an instant. The inferni screamed and lunged for Inej.

A bad move. Minke caught her mid-lunge and used her momentum to slam her into the ground. Serafima released a mist seconds later. They fled.

Wild flames followed seconds after. The inferni had recovered quickly, but the most and her anger blinded her. The fire caught not them, but the carts, homes, and innocent bystanders they fled through. Serafima raised a hand for a moment to collect moisture and put out the flames. She realized her mistake quickly and fled into the darkness.

A shape appeared in the corner of Serafima's vision. She whipped around. It was just Minke. He yanked her back into an alleyway.

Just in time, too. One of the heartrenders passed. Just a child, Serafima realized, barely twelve. This was their advanced team. A child?

"What are you doing?" Serafima hissed.

"I'm not fighting a kid," Minke protested. "She's tiny and harmless. Can't we just wait until she leaves?"

"You think everyone's tiny and harmless," Serafima said. "She's a heartrender, she's far from harmless. More importantly, she wants to kill us."

"We can't just let her do that, I suppose," Minke admitted sullenly.

"Obvious —"

Serafima's words were cut short by Minke coughing. Blood bubbled from his lips as he slumped to the ground. Serafima stumbled away from him. Her eyes widened as she spotted the girl at the opposite end of the alleyway. Damn it, the girl hadn't missed them, she'd circled around for a flank. The girl slowly approached.

"Where is she?" The girl demanded.

"The sun summoner left us," Serafima said. It would have been better to knock the girl out, but for all the scolding she'd given Minke, she couldn't bring herself to attack the child for the crime of being used as a pawn. "She escaped as soon as we stopped here, and she's long gone by now."

"I don't care!" the girl snapped. "I don't care about your stupid sun summoner!"

Serafima raised an eyebrow. That was an interesting twist. The girl sniffled and straightened her shoulders. It seemed she realized that she'd became far less intimidating if she started crying.

"Where is Nonna," the girl demanded.

That caught Serafima off guard.

"I don't know," Serafima admitted. Her voice softened against her will. "We didn't take her, she left on her own."

"Liar!" The girl tightened her lips, as if trying to hide the fact it was starting to quiver. "The general said she's a traitor, too, but he lies. She wouldn't leave. She wouldn't!"

"Trust me, I'd love to have found her, but we didn't get a chance," Serafima insisted.

"Tell the truth or I'll kill your friend!" The girl demanded. She raised her hands.

"No, no, no!" Serafima stepped over Minke, her hands held in surrender. "He has nothing to do with this, okay? Nonna was my idea, they had no idea."

The girl lowered her hands to her side and balled them into fists. But she was listening. At least she was listening.

"My name's Serafima," Serafima approached slowly. "Okay? I doubt she's mentioned me, but —"

"You left," The girl accused. "Why did you leave?"

"Because the Little Palace is a glorified cage. We were raised as soldiers to fight for royalty that won't even protect us and a general who uses us as pawns," Serafima answered. It was blunt, but it was true.

"They're my family," the girl said.

"Your family uses you as a weapon," Serafima replied. "Go on. Ask your general why you're here."

"To find the sun summoner."

"Not why all of you are here, why you're here. You're a student, you shouldn't be in a field for years," Serafima said.

"Because I'm good," the girl insisted. "Because I'm powerful."

"Ah. Of course. The general does like powerful women."

The girl fell silent. Now the girl was crying openly, rubbing her eye violently to try to hide it. More evidence that she should have been there. Serafima felt a familiar pain. The ache of abandonment, the realization the people you loved weren't there for you.

"Why did she leave me?" The girl murmured.

"I don't know," Serafima bent in front of the girl and gently squeezed her arms. "But I know my sister, and I know she had a good reason, because she would never want to hurt you. Understand?"

The girl pulled herself free from Serafima's grip. She stepped around her and press a hand against Minke's back. Serafima tensed. The girl yanked her hand back and Minke awoke with a gasp. He pushed himself up on his elbows and spat globs of blood. The girl glanced over her shoulder at Serafima before fleeing the alleyway.

"Minke, get up," Serafima grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. "We need to go. The others will be waiting for us."

"Did we win?" Minke asked weakly.

"I won. You got taken out in the first five seconds," Serafima said.

"Tiny and harmless my ass," Minke grumbled.

Serafima scoffed and patted his arm. It was a lesson he was going to have to learn eventually.

The sun had risen when they arrived at the fountain. Kaz and Jesper where waiting for them. Having hauled him the entire way, Serafima dumped Minke against the wall rather unceremoniously. She rolled her shoulder and grimaced as it popped. It'd gone stiff from being leaned on.

"What happened to him?" Jesper asked.

"He could lose some weight is what happened," Serafima grumbled. "We got jumped by a heartrender and he went down like a baby."

"She surprised me!" Minke protested.

"Baby," Serafima teased, before turning to the others. "Where is Inej?"

"She's coming," Kaz said.

"You don't know, you mean?" Serafima glared between the two. "And you haven't gone to look for her? She could be in danger."

"She's coming," Kaz repeated.

Serafima didn't like his tone. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her.

Still, Inej did arrive. She dropped from the ledge above them and stumbled on the landing. In an instant, the group was crowded around her. Jesper helped her away from the wall as Minke pushed himself to his feet to hover behind her. Serafima bent to see what was troubling her. Only Kaz stepped away.

Her hand was clasped tightly against an gash on her side.

"They inferni, she's dead," Inej reported.

"Let me see," Serafima insisted. She moved Inej's arm just long enough to get a look at her wound. It was long and deep. "She can't ride or the wound will open more. It'll kill her. We need a medik."

"Or a healer," Kaz grumbled.

Serafima almost sensed regret in his voice, but she must have been hallucinating it. Regret wasn't Brekker's way.

"We'll have to come up with another plan," Jesper said.

"Inej, come on," Minke held out his arms and Jesper gently transferred her into his grasp. The managed to work one arm around his neck for at least some stability as he carried her. "No more walking for you, got it?"

Inej hesitated, before finally nodding. Kaz turned. A dark carriage stood behind them, led by horses colored in the same black. At once Serafima knew who it belonged to. The general.

"That's a pretty nice ride," Kaz said.

"Oh no, Brekker, don't even think about it. We don't need to give them more of a reason to chase us," Minke insisted.

"Well, we blew up our other ride, so do you have a better idea?" Serafima said.

Minke sighed. He didn't.

Jesper opened the door. To their surprise, another grisha was waiting, book in hand. His eyes widened when he saw Jesper and Serafima instead of the rest of his team. A threw a book and fled out the opposite side. A crack followed. Serafima crawled through the carriage to find the man crumpled on the ground, Kaz stood over him.

"He threw a book at me," Jesper whined.

"Maybe he thought you should read more," Serafima snapped. "I'd happened to agree on that front."

"Move! Both of you!" Minke snapped. They backed away so he could place Inej on one of the seats. "It's not our best choice, but I admit it it's better than riding. Jesper, you'll hold her as still as you can, the rest of us...we'll squeeze in where we can."

☼ ☼ ☼

BY THE SAINTS' GRACE, MAL LET THEM HEAL HIM IN THE MORNING. A bullet wound went through his shoulder. Better than what Nonna thought. She had expected a dislocation or a break, something that would be hard to heal after days on its own. There was a knife wound on his abdomen and a littering of bruises. She healed the gash and closed the bruises so they wouldn't grow worse. It was the best she could do with them — dispelling the blood would only make them bigger. It needed to absorb on its own.

"It was smart of you to leave in the maggots," Nonna quipped as she flicked on into the woods. "They ate up the rotten flesh and stopped infection."

"Maggots?" Mal repeated, eyes wide with disgust and horror.

"Or you were just too dense to notice them," Nonna said. She raised an eyebrow at Alina, who just shook her head.

Mal rolled his eyes. It seemed being petulant was a shared traits.

"What happened, Mal?" Alina asked.

"We got caught on the wrong side of the Fjerdan border," Mal admitted, after a long sigh. "Barely made it out alive. Mikhael and Dubrov weren't so lucky."

The pain in Mal's words were palpable. Nonna lowered her head. She knew the cruelty of the Fjerdans all to well. There was no mercy for trespassers, especially not Ravkan ones.

"No," Alina murmured, her eyes shining. "Behind enemy lines?"

"They volunteered. They knew the risks," Mal said quickly, both to himself and Alina. "I wish I could speak to their families. Speak of their bravery."

Let them know they hadn't died for nothing. Nonna shook her head. There were some wounds she couldn't heal. It didn't matter, she knew, that their friends had known the risk and come willingly. It would alway feel like their fault.

"We need to keep West, to get to the Fold," Mal decided.

"Did you tell General Kirigan where to find the Stag?" Alina asked.

"No," Mal said, before correcting himself, "Well, not exactly."

"Not exactly? What do you mean, not exactly?" Nonna demanded.

"Could he find it without you?" Alina added.

"I pointed to a broad area on his map. That's it," Mal insisted. "It doesn't matter. We'll get to the Fold in a couple of days. And once we're through, no one can stop us."

"And once he gets that Stag, no one can stop him," Nonna said. "He'll use it on himself, he'll destroy anyone in his path."

"Nonna's right. We should head North. Find the stag before he does," Alina said. "It's a powerful amplifier. It might make me strong enought to...to destroy the Fold."

"Is that why General Kirigan wants it so badly?" Mal asked.

"For the strength, not to destroy the Fold," Nonna said.

They collected their things quickly. For all they knew, Kirigan was already on his way to the Stag. He might take longer without Mal, but he had the man power to canvas the entire area soon enough. They needed to get going.

Once their trajectory turned, their path seemed easier. The woods where still thick but they were no longer running. Now they had a purpose. Find the Stag, connect it to Alina, and bring down the Fold. Just like they where supposed to. No more running in fear, scared everyone and everything would turn them over to the general.

Nonna had seen amplifiers before. The general passed them out to his favorites as rewards. No Grisha could have more than one, after all, so he couldn't use all of the, for himself. Healers never gone them. They didn't need to be any better than they already where.

A chill settled in as the walked. Fjerdan territory.

"I've never seen a berry bush licked clean so high. I'm sure it's the work of our stag," Mal said.

It was part of his running commentary on exactly how he was tracking the Stag. Sometimes it was annoying, when Nonna wanted time to think in her own head, but it was useful for the most part. It made her feel less lost.

"If we follow that path, we'll catch up in a day or two," Mal said. He handed Alina a bag of berries. "Listen. We're getting close to Fjerda. I don't like putting you in harm's way. Nonna either."

"Since when have you backed down from a fight?" Alina teased.

"Since my new job. Bodyguard to a Saint," Mal replied.

"What if there's no real Saint here?" Alina said, eating hand fulls of the berries at a time. "It's just me."

"When I was just eight, you defended me from boys three years older than you with nothing more than a letter opener. Consider this payback," Mal said.

"That sounds like Alina. Have I mentioned the fact she walked into her first day of training and tried to fight out best squaller?" Nonna said. Mal laughed as she gave Alina a teasing wink. "And besides, you need me. I'm a healer, of course, and I know this area."

"Are you Fjerdan?" Mal asked.

"No, but I grew up on the border. It's not exactly the same, but similar."

"Plus, if I do anything particularly heroic, I'm going to need you two there as a witnesses so you can write songs about me later," Alina added.

"There once was a girl named Alina," Nonna sang, "Shininest girl you've ever...seena?"

"So, Mal's writing the songs," Alina corrected. She finished the berries and tossed them the bag to the side. "Delicious. I could eat five more."

"You really developed an appetite, didn't you?" Mal said. He came to a stop to help Alina down a ledge. "That's new. Not bad, I'm just...I'm saying it looks good on you."

"Using my powers is definitely changing me. My appetite, for sure," Alina agreed.

"No, you look great. I mean, you look healthy. Is that what, um...being a summoner does to you?" Mal asked.

"It's what being grisha does to you," Nonna corrected. "Practicing the Small Sciences strengthens us, gives us life, and repressing it...we get sick. It's like neglecting a part of ourselves makes the rest suffer, too."

Alina turned to face them. "That's how he's lived for so long."

"Who?" Mal asked.

"Aleksander," Alina stared off into the distance. "He'll hunt me down and he'll never stop. I'm the only threat to him now."

A weight fell over them again. There was no escape. Alina could run and hide and say she would never fight him, but Kirigan wouldn't care. As long as she lived, he was no longer invulnerable. She had to go.

"Who's Aleksander?" Mal asked, apparently missing the context clues.

"General Kirigan..." Alina said slowly. She gave Mal a guilty look. "I made some...stupid choices at the Little Palace. And he —"

"Hey, look, you don't own me an explanation," Mal interrupted. "I just want to keep you safe. Come on."

☼ ☼ ☼

THEY DIDN'T HAVE MONEY TO CROSS THE FOLD. They had stopped in a barn to wait and prepare, but it didn't seem to matter. Even when Minke emptied his pockets of everything he'd stolen along the way, it wasn't enough. The prices were hiked. Serafima doubted they'd even come close, unless they robbed five people planning to cross already.

With that decided, Inej leaned back in the hay and pulled up her shirt. She removed the pad over her wound, revealing the bloody gash, same as before.

"It's not healing on its own. I need to stitch it," Inej explained.

"Let me," Serafima reached for the bag of supplies, which Inej pulled away from her. "Don't be stupid, Inej. It's instinct not to hurt yourself and you've got a poor angle, you'll make it harder and poorer than you need."

Inej scowled, but passed the supplies over. A packet of needles and thread. Crouched over Inej, Serafima set to work. The slightest touch caused blood to bubble to the surface. It made the thread hard to see and work slow. Jesper's obnoxious gagging really didn't help. Serafima grimaced.

"How long before you can travel?" Kaz asked.

"Not long. Where?" Inej asked.

"Ketterdam," Kaz said simply.

The room fell silence. There was no plan. They were given up. It wasn't a very Kaz Brekker move.

"Between our dwindling funds, lack of time, and...conflicting interests," Kaz shot Inej and Serafima a look. "It's time we cut our losses."

Kaz left. Serafima finished off the final stitch and tied it off. They carefully pressed a fresh pad on to protect it before pulling Inej's shirt back over it.

"I guess the bastard misses the Barrel," Jesper quipped.

"I can't go back," Inej said.

"Oh, come on now, Kaz doesn't really blame you. He's just moody," Minke assured.

"Back to the Menagerie," Inej corrected.

"You're not going back to the Menagerie. We won't let you," Serafima insisted. She shifted to give Inej more room. "Did Kaz say that? That he's sending you back?"

"No, you're not hearing me. I can't go back," panic crept into Inej's voice. Jesper cleared his throat. "What?"

"We'll, I was going to tell you to trust Kaz, and that Serafima was right, and that he'd never let you go back, but..." Jesper shook his head. "I don't have the right to tell you what you should do with your shot at freedom."

Inej looked between the three.

"You're making this a lot harder, you know," Inej said.

"I know," Jesper grinned. "I'd miss me, too. I'm fantastic."

"It's our secret plan. Use Jesper's charm so you'll feel very, very bad and not leave us," Minke teased. Serafima elbowed him. "I'm kidding, of course. We love you, you're family. If that means letting you go so you're happy, we'll do it, a thousand times over."

Inej glanced at Serafima, who'd stayed quiet through the exchange. Serafima sighed and passed Inej one of her blades.

"Your Saints will lead you home, wherever you find it," Serafima said.

☼ ☼ ☼

NIGH HAD FALLEN. Snow fell with it. Calm, fat flakes that settled in their hair and on their clothes. The three sat under the tree, huddled for warmth. Nonna watched as their breath puffed into small clouds. She kept her hands clasped as close to the middle of them as she could, trying to all their temperatures at once. It was far from as good as if she only had to focus on one people, but it would keep them from freezing to death without Alina's light to give them away.

"When we find the Stag, I need to be the one to kill it," Alina insisted.

"You're a terrible shot. They made you a cartographer for a reason," Mal said.

"Amplifiers bond to the ones who kill it," Nonna said. "If she doesn't kill it, she can't use it."

"Of course," Mal sighed. "I'll line it up for you, you take the shot."

Alina nodded.

"It's just...do you really wear it's bones?" Mal asked.

"It's not as gross as it sounds. You clean it first," Nonna said.

Best not to mention the way the amplifier merged to the skin, becoming part of the wearer. Nonna feared it might freak Mal out so much he'd refuse to help.

Mal perked up. He stood, staring off into the distance. Nonna tried to hear what he was listening to, but she couldn't. Instead she and Alina were forced to follow as he headed into the woods.

Moonlight filtered through the trees. Under its glow was a stag, pure white,  antlers branching to the sky. Mal handed Alina his gun and held it for her from behind.

Alina didn't take the shot.

"What are you doing?" Mal asked.

"I need to get closer to it," Alina insisted.

"If we keep it alive, how do we —" Mal stared.

"Trust her," Nonna interrupted. "Alina knows what she's doing."

"Kirigan didn't want me to have an amplifier. So he didn't teach me about this. Maybe there's another way to do this," Alina explained.

It didn't make sense, but it was Alina's amplifier. Her calling. Nonna had to respect the way she wanted it do.

And it seemed to be working. As Alina stepped forwards, gun discarded, the Stag came to meet her. She held out her hand. It presses its nose to her fingers. At once a dome of light expanded from her and filled the clearing. Warmth flooded Nonna as the light reached them.

A gunshot rang out.

The Stag bellowed. Alina was thrown away from it as if stumbled away. A shape ran from the darkness, only to fall when Mal shot it. Someone shouted. Nonna raised her hands to fight, only for a rope to hit her wrists. The force threw her to the ground, hands tight tightly to her side. Drüskelle. Nonna threw herself onto her side and tried to get to her knees.

Someone grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. Nonna threw her weight against them, but it did no good.

"I have the healer!" The captor called in Ravkan.

Nonna stopped to take in the scene. They were surrounded not by Drüskelle, but by their fellow grisha. Mal lay fallen on the ground, an arrow through his chest. Nonna started towards him, only to be yanked back roughly. They tried to advance on Alina. The girl fended them off with blasts of light. She ran to Mal and tore the arrow from his chest. Nonna winced, knowing it would only make him bleed out fast.

Then the shadows came. The general.

Alina barely reached the stag in time. A dome of light surrounded her, Mal, and the dying animal, blocking the Kirigan's cut. The stag cried out in pain.

"You can't save them, Alina!" Kirigan cried. "You may have the power of light, but we have your healer."

Nonna snarled at the general. Of course. It made sense, now, why she'd been bound. Kirigan meant to bargain with Mal's life for the Stag. He couldn't do that if Nonna went healing them both.

"I know the tracker is important to you. Give me the Stag, and I'll let him be saved," Kirigan said.

"No," Mal gasped.

"Stay still. You've lost too much blood," Alina said.

"You have to kill it," Mal insisted. He crawled forwards, a knife extended to Alina. "You have to."

"Alina!" Nonna demanded. The girl turned to her, tears filling her eyes. "You can't let him get the Stag, he'll kill everyone."

Kirigan looked at Nonna for the first time. His expression was unreadable. Nonna raised her chin and looked him in the eye as she repeated, "He'll kill everyone."

Still, Alina threw down her hand. She ran for Mal only to be torn away from him. Nonna shouted as she was slammed to her knees, her arms wrenched to the side. 

"No! No!" Alina sobbed as the grisha knocked Mal to the ground. "You said you wouldn't hurt him!"

Another cut. Blood splatter as the Stag was decapitated. They all fell silent.

"Bring me it's antlers," Kirigan ordered.

"You murderer!" Alina cried. "You stupid fool!"

"And the otkazt'sya, sir?" One of the grisha asked.

"I am a man of my word," Kirgian said. "Let her heal him. He was only protecting Miss Starkov."

Nonna's restraints were loosened as she was shoved towards Mal. She scrambled over to him. His heartbeat was faint, but still there. Tears blurred in her vision as she held her hands over the arrow hole. They barely allowed her time to knit him back together before she was once again pulled to her feet. Nonna didn't fight. There was no point.

They'd failed. It was over.

This was an emotional roller coaster. Don't mind me while I just cry.