⇒ A PATH OF SEARING LIGHT

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The first word to leave her lips was Mal. She needed to make sure he was okay, that he was safe. The volcra had swarmed them out of nowhere until finally they were gone. She didn't know what had done it, nor how she and Mal had gotten out of there alive, but all she wanted to do now was crawl into his arms and never let him go.

"Mal?" Alina asked, trying to process where she was. The sun shone above her, almost as if it was energizing her. But that wasn't possible. They'd been stuck in the Fold. In the Dark. Crossing was certain death, and she'd been so sure Mal wasn't going to make it that she'd sacrificed the lives of her friends for a chance to die with him.

Except they hadn't died. They'd both lived.

And Mal was nowhere to be seen. "Mal?" She asked again, pain splitting across her collarbone as she sat up. Something pushed her back down. A woman in red with grey embroidery ordered her to stay put, her hands miraculously stitching up her collarbone untl the pain was a dull memory. "My friend, where is he?" She gripped the healer with a strength she didn't know she had, causing the brunette's eyes to widen.

"First Army goes to medical." The healer explained, continuing to see to her wounds. Alina shook her head, confusion bundling itself up into a knot in her chest. So why wasn't she in medical with him? She was First Army. Why were the Grisha healers wasting their time with her?

Her answer came in the form of the Grisha that had offered to tumble Mal the night before. She was a statuesque thing with long dark hair and bright blue eyes to match her kefta. Her arms crossed her chest and she never took her gaze off Alina, "Bring her to the General's tent. Kovacs will want to speak with her as well."

She must have hit her head harder than she thought. Why would Alina be summoned to the General's tent? Her eyes widened as she remembered the reason she'd ended up on the skiff in the first place.

Oh Saints.

She was going to be dishonorably discharged for burning the maps. She'd be punished and separated from Mal forever, unable to keep track of him or stay by his side. They'd take her away and she'd never see him again.

But Alina couldn't find the strength to put up any resistance as her cartographer's jacket slipped off her shoulder, the healer finishing up her touches on her injuries until two men in black grasped hold of Alina's arms and dragged her off the skiff.

She didn't even register the pain, too lost in her thoughts of being separated from Mal and her own confusion about why she was summoned to the Grisha's tent in the first place. She wasn't anyone special, just a mapmaker from a forgettable town that no one knew. An orphan from Keramzin whose only friend was a tracker that she couldn't live without.

The black tent of General Kirigan grew closer, and Alina tried to wrest herself from the oprichniki's grip, but it was too late, She descended underneath the eclipse and found herself thrown into the center of attention, a figure draped in black with his back to her.

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