CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Abomination

     "How long will it take us to reach Ketterdam?"

Watching the scene unfold in the Spinning Wheel as the bustle to get ready for lift-off made Estelle uneasy. The Darkling would be there soon, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Nikolai answered Alina. They were much less blurry than earlier. "Two to three days, depending on the weather and our squallers. We'll go north, then over the True Sea. It's safer than traveling over Ravka."

"What's it like?"

"Ketterdam?" Nikolai's eyes lit up just as Estelle saw something coming towards them. "It's–"

He never got the chance to finish his sentence. A shadow blurred across Estelle's vision and Nikolai disappeared over the terrace.

Chaos ensued. Nichevo'ya crashed through windows and one grabbed Alina's shoulders. It flapped its unnatural wings, beginning to lift her into the air. Mal lept at her and grabbed her by the waist. Alina twisted in its grasp, sending an arc of golden light that exploded the nichevo'ya.

They toppled into a heap on the floor again, blood already staining Alina's clothes.

Alina was on her feet in seconds, looking around in horror. The air was filled with darting black shapes. "Get the others out," she yelled to Tamar.

"We can't leave you–"

"I won't lose them too!"

"Go!" Mal bellowed at her. He shouldered his rifle, taking shots at the nichevo'ya while Alina lashed out with the Cut. Even Alina seemed to realize it wouldn't do much good.

Then the Darkling appeared, his swarm of monsters covering him and keeping him afloat in the air. Mal and Alina looked up in disbelief.

"Saints," Mal swore. "How did he find us?"

When Alina caught sight of a man held up by two nichevo'ya in a red kefta, she paled. The man was terrified, his lips moving in a silent prayer.

"Shall I spare him, Alina?" the Darkling asked.

"Leave him alone!" she yelled.

"He betrayed you to the first oprichnik he could find. I wonder, will you offer him mercy or justice?"

"I don't want him harmed!" Estelle could see Alina's mind whirring, thinking. Whoever this man was, she didn't expect him to betray her.

Which meant the Darkling didn't need to use Estelle at all to find them. He already knew. He was just fact checking with her.

"Give him to me," said Alina.

"He betrayed me first, Alina. He remained in Os Alta when he should have come to my side. He sat on your council, plotted against me. He told me everything." The Darkling's voice was eerily calm. "So, the decision is mine. And I'm afraid that I choose justice."

In one movement, the nichevo'ya ripped Sergei's limbs from his body and severed his head from his neck. He had a brief moment of shock on his face, before they let his body go and they disappeared beneath the cloud bank.

"All Saints," murmured Mal.

Alina gagged, but she and Mal turned in a slow circle, back to back, forced to put her terror away. They were surrounded by nichevo'ya. Screams and shattering glass echoed through the rest of the Spinning Wheel.

"Here we are again, Alina. Your army against mine. Do you think your soldiers will fare any better this time?"

Alina ignored him and shouted into the misty grayness. "Nikolai!"

"Ah, the pirate prince. I have regretted many of the things I've had to do in this war," said the Darkling. "This is not one of them."

A shadow soldier swooped down. It held Nikolai struggling in its arms. Estelle choked down a sob. If she had to watch Nikolai be ripped limb from limb, she'd do the same to the Darkling when she'd get the chance.

"Please! Please don't!"

The Darkling raised his hand.

Estelle's breath caught in her throat.

But the nichevo'ya didn't attack Nikolai. It tossed him onto the terrace. His body hit the stone with a sickening thud and rolled to a stop.

"Alina, don't!" Mal tried to hold Alina back, but she broke free of him and ran to where Nikolai lay, falling to her knees beside him. Estelle was already there, even if he couldn't see her. He moaned. His coat was torn where the creature's claws had shredded the fabric. He tried to push himself up on his elbows and blood dribbled from his mouth.

"This was unexpected," he said weakly.

"You're okay," Alina said. "It's okay."

"Nikolai," breathed Estelle.

"I appreciate your optimism."

Estelle looked up at the Darkling to find him already staring at her. He opened his palms and two blots of shadow slipped free, slithering over the lip of the balcony. They were serpent-like, heading directly for her. Alina raised her hands and slashed out with the Cut, obliterating one side of the terrace, but she was too slow. The shadows slithered lightning fast across the stone and darted into Nikolai's mouth.

His eyes widened. His breath hitched in surprise, drawing whatever the Darkling had released into his lungs. He and Alina stared at each other in shock.

"What—what was that?" he choked.

"I—"

He coughed, shuddered. Then his fingers flew to his chest, tearing open the remains of his shirt. Shadows spread beneath his skin in fragile black lines, splintering like veins in marble.

Estelle's heart dropped in panic.

"No," Alina groaned. "No. No."

The cracks traveled across his stomach, down his arms.

"Alina?" he said helplessly. The darkness fractured beneath his skin, climbing his throat. He threw his head back and screamed, the tendons flexing in his neck as his whole body contorted, his back bowing. He shoved up to his knees, chest heaving.

Estelle tried reaching for him, but it was no use. Tears welled in her eyes.

He released another raw scream, and two black shards burst from his back. They unfurled. Like wings.

Watching was worse than death.

His head shot up. He looked at Alina, face beaded in sweat, gaze panicked and desperate. "Alina—"

Then his eyes—his beautiful, clever, hazel eyes—went black.

"Nikolai?" Alina whispered.

His lips curled back, revealing teeth of black onyx. They had formed fangs.

He snarled. Alina stumbled backward. His jaws snapped closed a bare inch from her.

"Hungry?" the Darkling asked. "I wonder which one of your friends you'll eat first."

Alina raised her hands, reluctant to use her power. "Nikolai," she begged. "Don't do this. Stay with me."

Tears escaped Estelle's eyes and she stood up, taking steps back from him.

His face spasmed in pain. He was in there, fighting himself, battling the appetite that had taken hold of him. His hands flexed—no, his claws. He howled, and the noise that came from him was desperate, shrieking, completely inhuman.

His wings beat the air as he rose from the terrace, monstrous, but still beautiful, still somehow Nikolai. He looked down at the dark veins coursing over his torso, at the razor-sharp talons that had pushed from his blackened fingertips. He held out his hands as if pleading for an answer.

Then–he turned and stared directly at Estelle. His eyes were fearful, confused. She pursed her lips, trying not to break down. "It's okay," she whispered, holding out her hand to him. "Everything will be okay."

He seemed to consider, but when Alina yelled out his name, he started.

"Nikolai!" Estelle cried.

He turned in the air, wrenching himself away, and raced upward, as if he could somehow outpace the need inside him, his black wings carrying him higher as he cut through the nichevo'ya. He looked back once, and even from there, Estelle could see his anguish.

Then he was gone, a black speck in the gray sky. Estelle longed to follow him, but she knew she had to stay. She had to know how this would end.

"Eventually," said the Darkling, "he will feed."

It was a fate worse than death. The Darkling had taken her polished, brilliant, noble prince and turned him into a monster. An animal incapable of feeling, only feeding. Estelle clenched her jaw.

A sound came from Alina, a sound from anger and rage. She raised her hands and brought the Cut blazing down in two furious arcs. They struck the whirring shapes that surrounded the Darkling and some burst apart into nothing, only to have others take their place. Alina didn't seem care. She struck him again and again.

"Fight me!" she screamed hysterically. "Let's end this now! Here!"

"Fight you, Alina? There is no fight to be had." He gestured to the nichevo'ya. "Seize them."

They swarmed down from every direction, a seething black mass. Mal opened fire. Alina cut through five, ten, fifteen shadow soldiers at a time, nearly pinwheeling her arms, but it was no good. There were simply too many of them.

Then suddenly they stopped. The nichevo'ya hung in the air, bodies limp, wings moving in silent rhythm.

"Did you do that?" Mal asked.

"I—I don't think so..."

Silence descended on the terrace. The wail of the wind and the battle raging throughout the rest of the place took of the background.

"Abomination."

Everyone turned. Baghra stood inside the doorway, her hand on Misha's shoulder. The boy was shaking, his eyes so wide I could see more white than iris. Behind them, soldiers were fighting not just nichevo'ya but oprichniki and the Darkling's own Grisha in their blue and red kefta. He'd had his creatures bring them all to the mountaintop.

Estelle had met Baghra a few times. She wasn't a particularly cheerful woman, but she had every right not to be. It appeared that she had lost her eyes, and they were only empty shells where eyeballs should have been.

"Guide me," Baghra told Misha. What courage it must have taken for him to lead her out onto the terrace, past the nichevo'ya, who shifted and bumped up against each other, following her passage like a field of glistening black reeds. Only those closest to the Darkling remained moving, clinging to their master, their wings beating in unison.

The Darkling's face was livid. "I should have known I'd find you cloistered with the enemy. Go back inside," he ordered. "My soldiers will not harm you."

Baghra ignored him. When they reached the end of the terrace, Misha placed her hand on the lip of the remaining wall. She leaned against it, releasing an almost contented sigh, and gave Misha a nudge with her stick. "Go on, boy, run to the scrawny little Saint." He hesitated. Baghra reached out and found his cheek, then patted it none too gently. "Go on," she repeated. "I want to talk to my son."

"Misha," Mal said, and the boy bolted over to them, ducking behind Mal's coat. The nichevo'ya showed no interest in him. Their attention focused wholly on Baghra.

"What is it you want?" asked the Darkling. "And do not hope to plead for mercy for these fools."

"Only to meet your monsters," she said. Baghra leaned her stick against the wall and held out her arms. The nichevo'ya moved forward, rustling and nudging against each other. One nuzzled its head against her palm, as if it were sniffing her. Estelle couldn't tell if they were curious or hungry. "They know me, these children. Like calls to like."

"Stop this," demanded the Darkling.

Baghra's palms began to fill with darkness.

"I will not fight you," the Darkling said.

"Then strike me down."

"You know I won't."

She smiled then and gave a little chuckle, as if she were pleased with a precocious student. "It's true. That's why I still have hope." Her head snapped to Alina. "Girl," she said sharply. "Do not fail me again."

"She isn't strong enough to fight me either, old woman. Take up your stick, and I will return you to the Little Palace."

"Baghra—" Alina began.

"My hut. My fire. That sounds a pleasant thing," Baghra said. "But I find the dark is the same wherever I am."

"You earned those eyes," he said coldly, but hurt was there too.

"I did," she said with a sigh. "And more." Then, without warning, she slammed her hands together. Thunder boomed over the mountain and darkness billowed from her palms like banners unfurling, twisting and curling around the nichevo'ya. They shrieked and jittered, whirling in confusion.

"Know that I loved you," she said to the Darkling. "Know that it was not enough."

In a single movement, she shoved herself up on the wall, and she tipped forward then vanished over the ledge, trailing the nichevo'ya behind her in tangled skeins of darkness. They tumbled past in a rush, a shrieking black wave that rolled over the terrace and plummeted down, drawn by the power she exuded.

"No!" the Darkling roared. He dove after her, the wings of his soldiers beating with his fury.

"Alina, now!" Mal shouted, pushing her through the door, and suddenly, Mal had Misha in his arms and they were running through the observatory. Nichevo'ya streamed past us, yanked toward the terrace by Baghra's trailing skeins. Others simply hovered in confusion as their master drew farther away.

Estelle woke back up suddenly, back in her dark prison once more, tear stains on her face.

a/n- This one's a little long, but it's packed, so hope it's good. Lmk!