Today was no different. I ran my hand over the empty surface of the table.
“Where are you, Mal?” I whispered. But there was no one there to answer.
CHAPTER 11
WHEN I THOUGHT things couldn’t get any worse, they did.
I was sitting at breakfast in the domed hall when the main doors blew open and a group of unfamiliar Grisha entered. I didn’t pay them much attention. Grisha in the Darkling’s service were always coming and going at the Little Palace, sometimes to recover from injuries received at the northern or southern front, sometimes on leave from other assignments.
Then Nadia gasped.
“Oh no,” groaned Marie.
I looked up and my stomach lurched as I recognized the raven-haired girl who had found Mal so fascinating back in Kribirsk.
“Who is she?” I whispered, watching the girl glide among the other Grisha, saying her hellos, her high laugh echoing off the golden dome.
“Zoya,” muttered Marie. “She was a year ahead of us at school and she’s horrible.”
“Thinks she’s better than everyone,” added Nadia.
I raised my eyebrows. If Zoya’s sin was snobbery, then Marie and Nadia had no business making judgments.
Marie sighed. “The worst part is that she’s kind of right. She’s an incredibly powerful Squaller, a great fighter, and look at her.”
I took in the silver embroidery on Zoya’s cuffs, the glossy perfection of her black hair, the big blue eyes fringed by impossibly dark lashes. She was almost as beautiful as Genya. I thought of Mal and felt a pang of pure jealousy shoot through me. But then I realized that Zoya had been stationed at the Fold. If she and Mal had … well, she might know if he was there, if he was all right. I pushed my plate away. The prospect of asking Zoya about Mal made me a little nauseated.
As if she could feel my stare, Zoya turned from where she was chatting with some awestruck Corporalki and swept over to the Summoners’ table.
“Marie! Nadia! How are you?”
They stood to hug her, their faces plastered with huge, fake smiles.
“You look amazing, Zoya! How are you?” gushed Marie.
“We missed you so much!” squealed Nadia.
“I missed you, too,” Zoya said. “It’s so good to be back at the Little Palace. You can’t imagine how busy the Darkling’s kept me. But I’m being rude. I don’t think I’ve met your friend.”
“Oh!” Marie exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. This is Alina Starkov. The Sun Summoner,” she said with a little pride.
I stood up awkwardly.
Zoya swept me into an embrace. “It’s such an honor to finally meet the Sun Summoner,” she said loudly. But as she hugged me she whispered, “You stink of Keramzin.”
I stiffened. She released me, a smile playing on her perfect lips.
“I’ll see you all later,” she said with a little wave. “I’m frantic for a bath.” And with that she sailed from the domed hall and through the double doors to the dormitories.
I stood there, stunned, my cheeks blazing. I felt like everyone must be gaping at me, but no one else seemed to have heard what Zoya said.
Her words stayed with me the rest of the day, through another botched lesson with Baghra and an interminable lunch during which Zoya held forth on the journey from Kribirsk, the state of the towns bordering the Fold, and the exquisite lubok woodcuts she’d seen in one of the peasant villages. It might have been my imagination, but it seemed like every time she said “peasant” she looked directly at me. As she spoke, light glinted off the heavy silver bracelet gleaming at her wrist. It was studded with what looked like pieces of bone. An amplifier, I realized.
Things went from bad to dreadful when Zoya showed up at our combat lesson. Botkin hugged her, kissed both of her cheeks, and then proceeded to chatter back and forth with her in Shu. Was there anything this girl couldn’t do?
She’d brought along her friend with the chestnut curls, whom I remembered from the Grisha tent. They proceeded to giggle and whisper as I stumbled through the drills with which Botkin began every class. When we separated to spar, I wasn’t even surprised when Botkin paired me with Zoya.
“Is star pupil,” he said, grinning proudly. “Will help little girl.”
“Surely the Sun Summoner doesn’t need my help,” Zoya said with a smug smile.
I watched her warily. I wasn’t sure why this girl hated me so much, but I’d had just about enough for one day.
We took our fighting stances, and Botkin gave the signal to start.
I actually managed to block Zoya’s first jab, but not the second. It caught me hard on the jaw and my head snapped back. I tried to shake it off.
She danced forward and aimed a punch at my ribs. But some of Botkin’s training must have sunk in over the last few weeks. I dodged right and the blow glanced off me.
She flexed her shoulders and circled. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the other Summoners had left off sparring and were watching us.
I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted. I took Zoya’s next punch hard to the gut. As I gasped for breath, she followed with an elbow. I managed to avoid it more by luck than skill.
She pressed her advantage and lunged forward. That was her mistake. I was weak and I was slow, but Botkin had taught me to make use of my opponent’s strength.
I stepped to the side, and as she came in close, I hooked my leg around her ankle. Zoya went down hard.
The other Summoners broke into applause. But before I had a chance to even register my victory, Zoya sat up, her expression furious, her arm slashing through the air. I felt myself lifted off my feet as I sailed backward through the air and slammed into the training room’s wooden wall. I heard something crack, and all the breath went out of my body as I slid to the ground.
“Zoya!” Botkin roared. “You do not use power. Not in these rooms. Never in these rooms!”
Dimly, I was aware of the other Summoners gathering around me, of Botkin calling for a Healer.