Page 64 of Shadow and Bone (The Grisha 1)
The Darkling was going to kill Mal anyway. What difference did it make who saw my misery now? The reality of Mal’s death and the Darkling’s cruelty were staring me in the face, and I saw the stark and horrible shape of things to come.
Ivan yanked me into my tent and gave me a rough shake. “Do you want to see the tracker or not? I’m not going to march a weeping girl through camp. ”
I pressed my hands against my eyes and stifled my sobs.
“Better,” he said. “Put this on. ” He tossed me a long brown cloak. I slipped it over my kefta, and he yanked the large hood up. “Keep your head down and stay quiet, or I swear I’ll drag you right back here and you can say your goodbyes on the Fold. Understand?”
I nodded.
We followed an unlit path that skirted the perimeter of the camp. My guards kept their distance, walking far ahead and far behind us, and I quickly realized that Ivan did not want anyone to recognize me or to know I was visiting the jail.
As we walked between the barracks and tents, I could sense a strange tension crackling through the camp. The soldiers we passed seemed jumpy, and a few glared at Ivan with blatant hostility. I wondered how the First Army felt about the Apparat’s sudden rise to power.
The jail was located on the far side of camp. It was an older building, clearly from a time predating the barracks that surrounded it. Bored guards flanked the entrance.
“New prisoner?” one of them asked Ivan.
“A visitor. ”
“Since when do you escort visitors to the cells?”
“Since tonight,” Ivan said, a dangerous edge to his voice.
The guards exchanged a nervous glance and stepped aside. “No need to get antsy, bloodletter. ”
Ivan led me down a hallway lined with mostly empty cells. I saw a few ragged men, a drunk snoring soundly on the floor of his cell. At the end of the hall, Ivan unlocked a gate, and we descended a set of rickety stairs to a dark, windowless room lit by a single guttering lamp. In the gloom, I could make out the heavy iron bars of the room’s only cell and, sitting slumped by its far wall, its only prisoner.
“Mal?” I whispered.
In seconds, he was on his feet and we were clinging to each other through the iron bars, our hands clasped tightly together. I couldn’t stop the sobs that shook me.
“Shhhh. It’s okay. Alina, it’s okay. ”
“You have the night,” said Ivan, and disappeared back up the stairs. When we heard the outer gate clang shut, Mal turned to me.
His eyes roved over my face. “I can’t believe he let you come. ”
Fresh tears spilled over my cheeks. “Mal, he let me come because …”
“When?” he asked hoarsely.
“Tomorrow. On the Shadow Fold. ”
He swallowed, and I could see him struggle with the knowledge, but all he said was, “All right. ”
I let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. “Only you could contemplate imminent death and just say ‘all right. ’”
He smiled at me and pushed the hair back from my tear-stained face. “How about ‘oh no’?”
“Mal, if I’d been stronger …”
“If I’d been stronger, I would have driven a knife through your heart. ”
“I wish you had,” I muttered.
“Well, I don’t. ”
I looked down at our clasped hands. “Mal, what the Darkling said in the glade about … about him and me. I didn’t … I never …”
“It doesn’t matter. ”
I looked up at him. “It doesn’t?”
“No,” he said a little too fiercely.
“I don’t think I believe you. ”
