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"AGAIN!" REYKA ORDERED, another Squaller and Inferni moved up the line, barely older than eighteen and greener still. This unit was newer, more volatile. She was just grateful that Vadoma hadn't been drafted to the front yet. She thought of her friend back at the Little Palace, trying to earn an amplifier to help gain control of the burning substance that surrounded them.

Reyka dodged a burst of flame, the Inferni completely missing their mark. Reyka raised her hand and motioned for them to stop. "Enough!"

She smoothed down her blue kefta, the standard blue embroidery betraying nothing except her status as a Tidemaker. The Darkling would have her wear her white one as a symbol of status, but Reyka had learned a long time ago that Grisha respected equality, not status. Besides, no one would talk to her if they knew she was in the Darkling's pocket. This way she was one of them, and no one was the wiser. She faced the new recruits and prepared to speak.

"In case you haven't noticed, this is not the Little Palace," Reyka's voice was loud and commanding, drawing the attention of all the young Summoners, "To cross the fold you will need more than the ability to summon fire or wind from the world around you. You will need to control it. And right now you have the same level of control as the Fold itself."

Shame fell over the soldier's faces.

Reyka dismissed them and moved to clean up the training yard, moving the dummies aside and sweeping up the ash leftover from those that hadn't been saved by the Squallers.

"The great Ice Summoner, reduced to cleaning up after green recruits."

Reyka bit her cheek at the sound of Ivan's voice, plastering a saccharine smile on her face as she faced the Heartrender, "What's wrong Ivan? Upset your former fuck usupred your position as military dictator?"

Ivan scoffed and crossed his arms, "Everyone wanted a taste of Suli," he sneered, "Claimed you resembled the animals you worshiped in bed."

Reyka rolled her eyes, the boiling sensation in her veins a familiar feeling whenever the heartrender was around. Ivan smirked, knowing that he could feel everything she was feeling right now. She tossed the broom his way, "Here, perhaps cleaning up my mess will get you the General's approval," She smacked into his shoulder on her way out, "Maybe it might even get you an invitation to his bed." She taunted, relishing in the redness that flooded Ivan's face, "And we don't worship animals!" Reyka yelled, refusing to meet his gaze as she stormed away.

She headed straight for the Darkling's tent, ready to give her debrief on the new recruits, although she wasn't sure what kind of information he was after. The Second Army was loyal to him, he was their general. Not to mention all of the recruits were newer, they had no chance to form bonds with anyone else. They were all intimidated by him. There was nothing to worry about.

Not yet anyway.

His grey eyes caught hers and he nodded at his guard, dismissing them. When they were alone he leaned back against the table, a map of Ravka behind him, "What do you have for me?"

Reyka shrugged, "Nothing. The recruits are greener than the Wandering Isle, with no previous loyalties except to each other and their general." She took a deep breath and awaited judgement. The Darkling nodded approvingly and Reyka felt relief flood her bones.

"Excellent work," He turned back to the map, moving around the table to face it once again, "They'll be the next unit to head west."

"Sir?"

The Darkling moved a few pieces around on the map and met her gaze again, "It was a Grisha who started this war and it will be the Grisha who end it."

Reyka swallowed the lump in her throat and said nothing. She knew what he was looking for. But he would never find it. The Sun Summoner was a myth like Morozova's Stag or Ulla the Sea Witch. He was searching for a fairytale.

"What you want doesn't exist," She spoke clearly once she found her voice again. His gaze snapped up to meet hers, pupils dilating as the grey hardened into steel once more. A shiver climbed up Reyka's back at the sight, but she refused to back down.

The Darkling arched an eyebrow, a strand of coal black hair falling in front of his forehead, hanging there like it hadn't been meticulously slicked back hours before. "Doesn't it?"

Reyka bit her tongue, something fizzing in her stomach at the words. The Darkling always seemed to know more than he let on, but Mayakovsky made it clear.

He did not know about her.

He did not know that the Sun Summoner existed. No one did.

"Why is this so important to you?" She asked instead, furrowing her brow at the General's intense gaze. His eyes were wide, nearly crazed if she was honest. Still his posture remained straight, shoulders relaxed and chin held high.

"Do you know the real reason the Black Heretic created the Shadow Fold?"

Reyka sent him a skeptical look and crossed her arms, "He wanted to usurp the king, so he attempted merzost to do so."

The Darkling chuckled mirthlessly, hanging his head for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "He attempted merzost, that part is true," Reyka recognized the lines forming on his face, the clenched jaw and the anger that accompanied his words, "But the story they tell you as children is but a half-truth. Meant to erase the sins of Ravka." He picked up one of the figurines that represented the Second Army and rolled it between his fingers. "The King was paranoid. Worried that the Black Heretic would wrest control from him with a snap of his fingers. So he ordered all Grisha to be hunted and killed in the hopes that it would...draw the man out."

Reyka continued to stare at the general, watching the way his eyes shined as he talked about the events as if he'd been there. Everyone knew The Darkling was a descendant of the same man who'd created the fold, considering there were no other Shadow Summoners. No doubt he'd been fed the same story over and over again, angry that they'd left out such important details.

Her lips dipped into a pitiful frown, "So he used merzost to fight back?"

The Darkling nodded and placed the figurine back down on the table. "The Black Heretic was a monster, but he protected his own," Grey clashed against violet, "I want to fix his mistakes. Starting with the Fold and ending with new opportunities for the Grisha."

Reyka bit her cheek, something stirring in her chest at the realization, "You want freedom for them as well."

"Just like you Miss Kovacs," The Darkling nodded, "That is why destroying the Fold is so important to me. That is why it must be a Grisha who does it."

"And you think if you keep recruiting talented ones from the Little Palace you'll find a solution?" The Darkling stiffened at her words, lips tightening as he mulled over his response. Reyka had spoken nothing but the truth. The Darkling was looking for a Grisha who could banish the fold, and he thought if he placed spies in the ranks and recruited high powered individuals he'd find them. "That's why you approached Mayakovsky." She realized, her mouth falling open, "Because she is the only one who teaches Grisha to defy like calls to like."

The Darkling steeled his gaze at her, arching a brow as she worked her way through his thought process. "Yes. That was why I requested you."

Reyka's laughter burst forth like the sunlight he was seeking, filling the tent. The Darkling blinked at her brazen attitude. "You think I'll find the Sun Summoner in that ragtag group of recruits?" She shook her head, lips twisting upward in disbelief, "They're hardly saints. They're children, just like the rest of us, fighting in a war that your ancestor started half a millennium ago."

The Darkling's face tightened as she threw his family's sins in his face. His intentions were admirable, but he would never find what he was looking for. Not in Kribirsk anyway. "If your miracle is out there, they don't want to be found."

He cocked his head her direction, "You truly have such little faith?"

Reyka shrugged, "Not in a Saint that doesn't exist," She spoke nonchalantly. The Sun Saint had been a whisper on the wind, a prophet that would never show up in her lifetime. She would live and die and the Fold would remain.

The Darkling scoffed and shook his head, "So what do you believe in Miss Kovacs?" He leaned against the desk, weight shifting onto his wrists as he moved closer. She mirrored his stance, their faces inches from each other.

Their breaths mixed, a soft smirk dangling from her lips as she continued to drown in those stormy grey eyes, dark clouds swirling in them like the shadows he commanded. The man was made of pure darkness, his pale skin the only ray of light breaking through. He truly deserved the moniker of Darkling.

"My beliefs are my own," She breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. The Darkling scanned her face, gaze drifting down before meeting hers once again. "Perhaps one day I'll trust you enough to disclose them."

His lips broke out into a smile, parting as a soft chuckle escaped him, but he continued to remain silent. Without dismissal, Reyka left the tent, and the man, to his fruitless quest.

The Suli found herself facing the Shadow Fold upon her exit, staring up at the large wall of shadow that separated the East from the West.

The call clawed at her insides, begging to be let out but she ignored it, taking deep breaths as she shoved it back down, the accompanying hand motions second nature to her after her training with Anya. It had been the first thing she learned, and the most important.

Aren't we all things?

Yes we are. But sometimes things are better left forgotten in the dust, pushed away until safety reached them first.

Run, she recalled her parents telling her. Sell yourself or run. She would not be a slave.

Not to anyone. So she would run, as far as she could.

But first she needed to free her people. And unfortunately, that meant destroying the fold. Just like the Darkling wanted.

Reyka scoffed. Looked like they had that much in common at least. She stole one last look at the looming cloud above her and sighed, the wind blowing her brunette locks back.

They had a common enemy. For now.

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HE COULDN'T HELP but mull over her words in his head. There was some truth to them after all. Mayakovsky had always refused to send anyone to his unit, but when he'd requested Rekya Kovacs, the woman's demeanor had changed from indifferent to something he'd never seen from her.

Fright.

Anya Mayakovsky was older than even his mother, and yet he'd managed to scare her to the point where she'd handed Reyka Kovacs over without much consequence.

Her precious little Tidemaker now ready to molded by hands of shadow instead of used against him.

He clenched his fist at the memory of her words, the sure way she'd defied his every move. She was not a soldier. None of Mayakovsky's students were. They were builders, creators, who took the world around them and molded it to their liking, just like he had done once. A tendril of shadow danced on his fingers before dissipating at the appearance of sunlight.

They don't want to be found.

She was correct. If there was a Sun Summoner out there, they were hiding, having no idea what they could do or why they were important. His eyes drifted to the spot where Reyka Kovacs had been standing earlier. Something within her called out to him, if he could just get close enough to touch her...

He pulled at the ring around his finger and shook his head. Never let them touch you. His mother's words rang in his head and the thought slunk back into the dark recesses of his mind, focusing his attentions back on the expedition that was taking place tomorrow.

Everything was in place.

The skiff had been finished, Zoya was manning it with her crew, and by this time tomorrow he would know whether or not the volcra would tear them apart or leave them alone. His bets, as always, were on the former.

If he could just find that damn Sun Summoner...

"General," Ivan's voice pierced his thoughts, and the Darkling resisted the urge to lash out in irritation at the interruption, "The carriage is ready whenever you are, sir."

He nodded at the Heartrender, "Thank you Ivan."

His right hand man moved to leave, clearly understanding the implied dismissal. But The Darkling couldn't help himself, "Ivan," The man stopped and turned around, unable to hide the confusion on his face, "Please inform Miss Kovacs that she'll be riding with me."

"Sir?"

The Darkling remained impassive, nearly smirking at how transparent heartrenders were. They wore their emotions on their sleeves, feeling everything and anything. It made them such good lie detectors. "Did I stutter, Lieutenant?"

Ivan shook his head and bowed, leaving the Darkling alone in his tent once again. It was a feeling he was used to, yet he always found himself missing the company of his handpicked Grisha. Loneliness was expected for a man like him. Like called to like, but he had no one like him to call to.

Reyka Kovacs flashed across his mind for a brief moment, determination wrought into her face.

No. If she was what he sought, his spies would have alerted him by now. If she was meant to be his other half, the summoner to help him conquer the world and save the Grisha, he would know. He always knew.

But still she called out to him. Whether she knew it or not, something longed to break free and join with him. Perhaps a carriage ride would illuminate what that was.

He waited outside the glossy coach, adjusting his gloves as a small figure dressed in blue approached him. He smiled.

"Is there a reason you decided to change travel plans at the last minute?" She asked, irritation brewing underneath the surface of her carefully placed emotions.

Mayakovsky had trained her well.

But what was fifteen years against five hundred?

He offered his hand, ungloved just to discover what exactly kept calling out to him. There were no markings of denial on her face, the same Grisha glow lighting up her bronzed skin, violet eyes unusual but vibrant, her brunette curls glossy and falling just below her breast. It was never tied back like the other Grisha. Always free flowing like the tendrils of shadow he wielded.

"I simply wished to understand you better Miss Kovacs," the lies dripped like honey from his lips, "After all, you uncovered my motives in a matter of minutes. I only wish to have the same opportunity."

Her violet gaze narrowed at his hand, flickering to his face for a brief moment before their fingers slipped against one another, a shock of electricity jolting up his arm and a flash of light crossed his vision.

It was blinding. Beautiful. Everything he'd ever been looking for. His lips parted and the Suli tilted her head, furrowing her brow. But he caught the flash of fear in her eyes, the same flash that had crossed Mayakovsky's when he'd requested the Tidemaker.

Was it possible? Could he have finally found her?

His grip tightened, but nothing happened, not even the prick of metal against her palm was enough to amplify whatever ability she'd been hiding. If she'd been hiding it. He dug further for that call, for that sweet sensation that always accompanied him whenever he'd helped another Grisha uncover their abilities. The sensation he'd felt all those years ago next to the riverbed, before Annika had become just another shadow he'd learned to live with.

But there was nothing there.

Just the ebbing and flowing of the tides within her. The raw power of her science, but nothing more.

She wasn't like him. She was ordinary. And he was alone once again.

Whatever hope had risen deflated when he let go of the Suli's hand, his hesitation not going unnoticed by her.

It blew out like a candle in the wind, leaving him in the dark once more.