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A dim ringing noise sliced the silence of the study. The sound was as if someone had struck a crystal glass with a spoon, causing the surface to hum. Aleksander Morozova (or Pyotr Kirigan, General of the Second Army, as the Crown knew him) simply brushed it aside as a ringing in his ears and sought to forget it.
However, after several minutes the sound persisted; in fact, it seemed to be getting louder. So loud that Aleksander could no longer ignore it. He rose from his desk, stretching his arms overhead after several hours of being hunched over. Then he followed the sound, passing through the doorway separating his bedchamber from his study until he stood in front of his dresser.
Now Aleksander recalled what it could be…even though it had been a while since he’d last heard it.
He pulled open the top drawer, then flicked a latch, revealing a false bottom at the floor of the drawer. The ringing was louder now, coming from a parcel wrapped in black silk that glittered with a turquoise tint that shined in the candlelight like the surface of dark water. He carefully lifted the parcel out and unwrapped it.
Inside was a beautiful bronze mirror decorated with carved waves and embellished with pearls. The usually smooth mirror was now rippling slightly as if the slightest rumble was disturbing the glassy surface.
Someone was trying to contact him. Hesitantly, Aleksander touched a finger to the mirror’s surface. It rippled further at his touch before the reflection morphed as the surface rumbled. When it stilled, it revealed a very familiar face.
“Hello, big brother.”
“Ulla!” Joy erupted from his throat. He hadn’t seen his sister in person since that disastrous trip to Fjerda over three centuries ago. They had talked through the mirrors on occasion, but over twelve years had passed since their last conversation. She looked well, her glossy black hair pinned back from her bronze skin.
“You look well.”
“And you look tired,” Ulla said; she wasn’t one for holding back what she was thinking. “How are things in Os Alta?”
“Tiring,” Aleksander replied with a hollow laugh. “The Tsar refuses to send more aid to the Northern Front and claims there aren’t enough supplies to send. Never mind that he and his family have been draining the coffers with their selfish desires.”
“And Baghra?”
He struggled to find something to say. No words could properly describe how tedious his relationship was with his mother. And he was surprised that Ulla was asking about her after their last - and only - meeting.
Shortly after Aleksander had returned to Os Alta, Baghra had gone to Fjerda. He wasn’t even aware that his mother had paid a visit to Ulla until she first used the mirror, asking if he had told Baghra about her. Aleksander had been stunned; in his long existence, his mother had never cared about the other children she’d born, whose only misfortunes were that they were not Shadow Summoners, nor did they possess the Morozova immortality.
Baghra had spewed harsh words at Ulla, telling her what a stupid girl she had been for falling in love. And how the betrayal that followed had led to the destruction of much of Fjerda’s coast and forced the sildroher population into hiding.
And then, in no uncertain terms, Baghra had warned Ulla to stay away from her son. No matter that they were bound in blood by the same mother, Baghra had made it clear that Ulla was no daughter of hers.
Fortunately, she knew nothing about the mirrors.
So Aleksander simply answered, “Still as difficult as ever.” And that was all Ulla needed to know.
“Though I doubt you called me after over two hundred years just to talk about Baghra’s wellbeing or exchange pleasantries.” The fact that Ulla had not called until now suggested that something had happened. Something bad.
“Has something happened in Fjerda? Are you alright?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Ulla waved a hand as if brushing something aside. “Nothing’s happened…yet.”
“Yet?”
“Though, I don’t know how much longer I can keep her hidden until you get here…”
“Ulla!” Aleksander interrupted her train of thought. “What is going on?”
His half-sildroher sister flashed a toothy grin.
“Oh, I was waiting for you to ask!”
A breath, and then-
“I have what you have sought for all these years, brother.”
What had he sought? What-
Oh.
Oh.
But that was-
Impossible.
But this was Ulla. Sankta Ursula of the Waves. Capable of fulfilling anyone’s wish….
“How did you-” the words choked on his tongue; he couldn’t properly speak. Was it possible? After all these years of waiting, the last piece of his plan to ensure the safety and freedom of his Grisha was finally within grasp?
“That is a long tale, brother, for which I will need a lot of time to explain,” Ulla said. “But she is yours…if you can claim her.”
Of course. Ulla could fulfill anyone’s wishes…so long as a suitable bargain was made. It almost sounded like a knight’s quest from a fairytale, the way Ulla had phrased it. The shining knight must prove himself worthy of winning the princess’s hand.
If he was the knight, the Sun Summoner was the princess.
“What is your price?”
Ulla laughed, the sound ringing like the copper wind chimes attached to the rafters of a seaside house.
“I’m looking forward to bargaining with you, brother. Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”
He simply waited for his half-sister to calm down and think.
“My price…” she tapped her chin methodically, and Aleksander almost envisioned some wizened old man stroking his long beard.
“My price…is your truth.”
His truth?
“You must tell the Sun Summoner the truth about you. Where you came from, who you are and why you want her.”
That…Aleksander almost considered cursing every Saint he could think of. Oh, why did Ulla have to make this so difficult?
The only way he had survived these past four centuries - how he had protected the Grisha for the last four centuries - was by lying. About his loyalty to the crown, about his desire to destroy the Fold, about his name, about everything . Lying had become so natural to him, that it wouldn’t be surprising if he’d completely forgotten how to be honest at all.
And that wasn’t even the worst of what he’d done. He had stolen, cheated, killed, and manipulated his own people like marionettes. He hadn’t made it this far without a few sacrifices along the way. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t felt terribly sick every time he placed a new pawn on the chessboard.
And there was no telling how the Sun Summoner would react to his real plans for the Fold. He had a backup plan in case things went poorly, but then - having a Sun Summoner who wanted him dead would be very detrimental in the grand scheme of things.
That was if Ulla didn’t kill him first. He had never fully elaborated his plans to her, but Aleksander was quite certain she drew the line at stripping a Grisha of their freedom.
“Unless you want Baghra to tell her the truth, then that would be a disaster.”
No, no, no. Baghra could not be involved with the Sun Summoner. That would definitely be a disaster. She had made it perfectly clear that she hated what he had planned, and there was no telling what web of deceit she would weave to turn the Sun Summoner against him.
So, yes, perhaps the Sun Summoner would be appalled by what he’d done, who he was. But he was immortal, and most likely so was she. He had eternity for her to get used to him.
“Do we have a deal?”
Aleksander took a breath, then opened his eyes.
“Yes, we have a deal.”
*****************
Her name was Alina Starkov.
Ulla had found her in an orphanage in Keramzin about a decade ago. She was half-Shu, an easy target for the other children to pick on. At one point, she’d had a friend, a boy her age named Mal. But as they grew older, Mal began drifting away to play with the other kids until, finally, an argument between the children pushed the boy to tell Alina how much he didn’t like her. And he had ended the argument by calling her a freak.
Over the years, Ulla had expanded her knowledge of song casting and had deepened her connection to the Making. It was through this connection that she had heard Alina’s despair, a mournful song that prompted Ulla to leave her cave on the Fjerdan coast and venture into Ravka for the first time. The sad song guided her to Keramzin, where she had found a young Alina crying in a meadow of golden grass and white daisies. Ulla could feel the waves of despair and denial rolling off the small girl, too young to know the heavy burden of these harsh feelings. She had knelt to the girl’s level and gently stroked her hair as a song came forward, one of comfort and acceptance. The song was soothing and warm, and eventually, Alina’s body had unculred just enough and allowed Ulla to take her hand.
The song had not only curbed Alina’s despair but also brought forth sunlight that lingered beneath her skin.
Several emotions fluttered through Ulla all at once: shock at the discovery of the Sun Summoner, awe at the light that surrounded the two of them, and finally, fear for what this little girl was about to be dragged into.
Though Aleksander had only mentioned very little about his search for the Sun Summoner, she’d heard whispers of their importance: that the Sun Summoner would destroy the Shadow Fold and save Ravka.
But Alina was just a child. How could the country put so much pressure on a young girl to save them all? It would be too easy for powerful figures to attempt to mold this bright light into their desired image and leave her unable to breathe and think for herself.
Especially the Apparat. Ulla had listened to her brother's rant about the Tsar’s spiritual advisor and how he slandered Grisha for being unable to be Saints since they didn’t suffer. Never mind that almost all the Church’s Saints were Grisha, a fact overlooked quite frequently. If the Apparat got hold of Alina, he and his priests would have isolated her in a church of marble, put her on a display for people to worship, and expected her to perform miracles that she may not be able to perform.
And Ulla was familiar with what the Ravkan people did to Saints when they outlived their usefulness. Even Aleksander might not be able to protect the Sun Summoner from that fate, especially if the Tsar sided with the Apparat.
So Ulla decided to take Alina north with her and teach her everything she could about the Grisha. She would teach her the truth about the Black Heretic, about her power, and how to make those incompetent people who held power bow to her. And when Alina eventually returns to Ravka, she would be resilient against their efforts to manipulate her, especially Baghra’s.
The only question that remained was whether Aleksander would be worthy of his equal.
****************
It was almost laughable how easy it was for Aleksander to get permission from the Tsar to travel to the Northern Front instead of his scheduled deployment to Kribirsk. The journey itself took a little over a week, and he itched with impatience the entire way. After four hundred years of waiting for a solution, it was now only a few days away.
They settled into camp shortly after arriving in the afternoon, but he struggled to concentrate on paperwork or the reports he received. Ulla had said she would send Miss Starkov to him shortly after he arrived, but she hadn’t specified when. For all he knew, it could be a week before he finally got to meet the Sun Summoner.
The following morning came with a thick mist and weak sunlight filtering through before touching the ground. Once again, Aleksander struggled to focus on his paperwork, his thoughts unconsciously drifting to this mysterious Miss Starkov. Despite the brief description Ulla had given, he was at a loss about the Sun Summoner’s appearance. He was so engrossed in thought that he missed the tent flaps opening until someone cleared their throat behind him.
“ Moi soverenyi .” Aleksander turned around to face the oprichnik who had just entered.
“There’s a woman outside who’s asking to speak with you. She said she has a message from…your sister?” That last part came out weakly; it wasn’t public knowledge that General Kirigan had any living relatives.
“Ivan?” he asked the Heartrender stationed by the tent’s entrance. “Is she lying?”
“No, moi soverenyi ,” Ivan said curtly, “She seems to be telling the truth.”
“Then let her in.” Aleksander set down the paper he’d been holding before standing and moving around to the front of the desk, all the while fiddling with the cuffs of his kefta .
Saints, this was ridiculous. He had waited four hundred years for the Sun Summoner, but now that she was right outside his tent, his stomach was twisted in knots. Unbidden, Ulla’s parting words from their conversation occupied his thoughts.
So long as you are truthful to her , you will find no worthier equal.
She had made it clear that she would be able to sense if Aleksander had broken his promise in the same way she had found Miss Starkov in the orphanage. Ulla would be able to sense any negative emotions from the young woman. Aleksander suspected Baghra would be the main cause of those.
The sound of footsteps outside the tent disrupted his musing. He barely had enough time to compose his nerves before the flaps opened, and at long last, the Sun Summoner stepped in.
And she was…
She was…
Ulla’s description paled in comparison to Alina Starkov’s beauty. Her hair, just as black as Ulla’s, was braided back from her lightly tanned face and narrow, dark eyes. She wore a dark blouse under a pair of dark gray overalls with a long, rough spun coat thrown over. Around her neck was a bronze pendant, shaped like the sun with a bright yellow stone in the center, hanging from a leather cord. Most likely a gift from Ulla.
An awkward cough from Ivan interrupted Aleksander from his studying. It was then he realized that both his second-in-command and the oprichnik from earlier were staring at him. Apparently, he’d been so absorbed in Alina’s presence that he’d completely blocked out everything else.
Saints forsake it! There had been many women in the past, but none as enchanting as the woman before him. It had never distracted him before; what was wrong with him now?
And as much as he would have enjoyed having an audience witness the discovery of the Sun Summoner, Aleksander would rather not have one present for what he knew had to come after.
“Leave us.” He barely had to raise his voice at the command; the oprichnik left immediately, while Ivan hesitated for a moment before his commander leveled him with a stern glare. The Heartrender disappeared through the flaps, but Aleksander knew that he would wait outside, monitoring their heartbeats. He turned his attention back to the woman before him.
“Well?” He internally winced at his first choice of words.
“Well, what?” But oh, her voice was beautiful.
“Who are you?” He needed to make sure this woman wasn’t an imposter.
“Alina Starkov.”
When Ulla had first said her name, Aleksander found it fitting. Bright star in Ravkan. And now that he had a face to go with the name, he could confirm it was a perfect fit.
But first, he needed to see if Ulla had told her anything about their conversation. Or anything regarding Miss Starkov - Alina’s - status on the world stage.
“And pray tell, Miss Starkov, what are you?”
There was barely a pause before she gave him an answer.
“I’m your solution.”
So Ulla had told her. She wouldn’t be going in blind. Aleksander couldn’t decide whether that was a relief or something to worry about.