Shadow and Bone

curiously belled sleeves. An envoy of the King stood with
them in full military dress, his pale blue sash bearing a golden
double eagle, a stern expression on his weathered
countenance.
I studied them curiously. This must be why the Darkling had
delayed our trip into the Fold. He’d needed time to assemble
the proper audience, witnesses who would attest to his
newfound power. But just how far did he intend to go? A
feeling of foreboding stirred inside me, disturbing the lovely
numbness that had held me in its grip all morning.
The skiff shuddered and began to slide over the grass and
into the eerie black mist of the Fold. Three Summoners raised
their arms and the great sails snapped forward, swelling with
wind.
The first time I’d entered the Fold, I’d feared the darkness
and my own death. Now, darkness was nothing to me, and I
knew that soon death would seem like a gift. I’d always
known I would have to return to the Unsea, but as I looked
back, I realized that some part of me had anticipated it. I had
welcomed the chance to prove myself and—I cringed when I
thought of it—to please the Darkling. I had dreamed of this
moment, standing by his side. I had wanted to believe in the
destiny he’d laid out for me, that the orphan no one wanted
would change the world and be adored for it.
The Darkling stared ahead, radiating confidence and ease.
The sun flickered and began to disappear from view. A
moment later, we were in darkness.
For a long while, we drifted in the black, the Grisha
Squallers driving the skiffs forward over the sand.
Then, the Darkling’s voice rang out. “Burn.”
Huge clouds of flame burst from the Inferni on either side of
the skiff, briefly illuminating the night sky. The ambassadors
and even the guards around me stirred nervously. The
Darkling was announcing our location, calling the volcra
directly to us.