At the last second, some sliver of sanity pierced the buzzing haze of my anger. No, I thought in terror as I realized what I was about to do. My panicked mind reeled. I swerved and threw the Cut high.
A resounding crack shook the room. The Grisha screamed and backed away, crowding against the walls.
Daylight poured in through a jagged fissure above us. I’d split the golden dome open like a giant egg.
A deep silence followed as every Grisha turned to me in terrified disbelief. I swallowed, astonished by what I’d done, horrified by what I’d almost done. I thought of Nikolai’s advice and hardened my heart. They mustn’t see my fear.
“You think the Darkling is powerful?” I asked, startled by the icy clarity of my voice. “You have no idea what he is capable of. Only I have seen what he can do. Only I have faced him and lived to tell about it.”
I sounded like a stranger to my own ears, but I felt the echo of my power vibrating through me, and I pushed on. I turned slowly, meeting each stunned gaze.
“I don’t care if you think I’m a Saint or a fool or the Darkling’s whore. If you want to remain at the Little Palace, you will follow me. And if you don’t like it, you will be gone by tonight, or I will have you in chains. I am a soldier. I am the Sun Summoner. And I’m the only chance you have.”
I strode across the room and threw open the doors to the Darkling’s chambers, giving silent thanks that they weren’t locked.
I walked blindly down the hall, unsure of where I was going, but eager to get far from the domed hall before anyone saw that I was shaking.
By luck, I found my way to the war room. Mal entered behind me, and before he shut the door, I saw Tolya and Tamar taking up their posts. Fedyor and the others must have remained behind. Hopefully, they’d make their own peace with the rest of the Grisha. Or maybe they’d all just kill each other.
I paced back and forth in front of the ancient map of Ravka that ran the length of the far wall.
Mal cleared his throat. “I thought that went well.”
A hysterical hiccup of laughter escaped my lips.
“Unless you intended to bring the whole ceiling down on our heads,” he said. “Then I guess it was just a partial success.”
I nibbled my thumb and continued pacing. “I had to get their attention.”
“So you meant to do that?”
I almost killed someone. I wanted to kill someone. It was the dome or Sergei, and Sergei would have been a lot tougher to patch up.
“Not exactly,” I admitted.
Suddenly, all the energy went out of me. I collapsed into a chair by the long table and rested my head in my hands. “They’re all going to leave,” I moaned.
“Maybe,” Mal said, “but I doubt it.”
I buried my face in my arms. “Who am I kidding? I can’t do this. This is like some kind of bad joke.”
“I didn’t hear anyone laughing,” Mal said. “For someone who has no idea what she’s doing, I’d say you’re managing pretty well.”
I peered up at him. He was leaning against the table, arms crossed, the ghost of a smile playing over his lips.
“Mal, I put a hole in the ceiling.”
“A very dramatic hole.”
I let out a huff somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “What are we going to do when it rains?”
“What we always do,” he said. “Keep dry.”
A knock came at the door, and Tamar poked her head in. “One of the servants wants to know if you’ll be sleeping in the Darkling’s chambers.”
I knew I would have to. I just wasn’t looking forward to it. I rubbed my hands over my face and heaved myself out of the chair. Less than an hour at the Little Palace, and I was already exhausted. “Let’s go take a look.”
The Darkling’s quarters were just down the hall from the war room. A charcoal-clad servant led us into a large and rather formal common room furnished with a long table and a few uncomfortable-looking chairs. Each wall was set with a pair of double doors.
“These lead to a passage that will take you out of the Little Palace, moi soverenyi,” the servant said, gesturing to the right. She pointed to the doors on the left and said, “Those lead to the guards’ quarters.”
The doors directly across from us needed no explanation. They stretched from floor to ceiling, and their ebony wood was carved with the Darkling’s symbol, the sun in eclipse.
I didn’t feel quite ready to face that, so I ambled over to the guards’ quarters and peeked inside. Their common room was considerably cozier. It had a round table for playing cards, and several overstuffed chairs were set around a small tile oven for keeping warm in the winter. Through another door, I glimpsed rows of bunk beds.
“I guess the Darkling had more guards,” said Tamar.
“Lots more,” I replied.
“We could bring on some others.”
“I thought about it,” said Mal. “But I don’t know that it’s necessary, and I’m not sure who we can trust.”
I had to agree. I’d put a certain amount of faith in Tolya and Tamar, but the only person I really felt sure of was Mal.
“Maybe we should consider drawing from the pilgrims,” suggested Tamar. “Some of them are former military. There must be a few good fighters among them, and they’d certainly lay down their lives for you.”
“Not a chance,” I replied. “The King would hear one whispered ‘Sankta Alina’ and have my neck in a noose. Besides, I’m not sure I want to put my life in the hands of someone who thinks I can rise from the dead.”
“We’ll make do,” said Mal.