“For him too?” Misha asked.

“Yes.”

The boy complied, setting the glasses in their little metal frames neatly on the table.

“I’ll get my own,” said Zoya. She was particular about sugar, and she needed a moment to take in this peculiar scene. It was strange that after so much pain and sacrifice, they should all meet again in this abandoned place.

The room fell silent. Oncat meowed plaintively.

“Where do we start?” Mal asked.

“You do the honors,” said Alina.

Mal crossed the room and yanked the blindfold away. The Darkling didn’t blink, didn’t reorient himself, merely looked around the room as if assessing a property he might like to purchase.

“You didn’t bring me to Keramzin,” he said.

Alina went very still. They all did. Zoya knew the shock of this. The Darkling’s face was different—the sharp bones were there, the glimmering gray eyes, but its shape was slightly altered, the scars once given to him by the volcra gone. His voice, though—that cool glass voice of command—was the same.

“No,” said Alina. “I didn’t want you in my home.”

“But I’ve been there before.”

Alina’s face hardened. “I remember.”

“Do you remember me?” asked Misha. He was too young to hide his hatred with polite talk.

The Darkling raised a brow. “Should I?”

“I took care of your mother,” said Misha. “But my mother was murdered by your monsters.”

“As was mine. In the end.”

“They say you’re a Saint now,” Misha spat.

“And what do you say, boy?”

“I say they should let me kill you myself.”

“Many have tried before. Do you think you could manage it?”

Mal laid a hand on Misha’s shoulder. “Leave it be, Misha. Threatening him only makes him feel important.”

“What do we call you now?” asked Alina. “What does anyone call you?”

“I’ve had a thousand names. You’d think it wouldn’t matter. But Yuri doesn’t suit me at all.” He peered at her. “You look different.”

“I’m happy. You never really saw me that way.”

“Living in obscurity.”

“In peace. We chose the life we wanted.”

“Is it the life you’d have chosen if you hadn’t sacrificed your power?”

“I didn’t sacrifice my power. It was taken from me because I fell prey to the same greed that drove you. I paid the price for tampering with merzost. Just as you once did.”

“And does that make your grief any less?”

“No. But every child I help heals something inside me, every chance I have to tend to someone left in the wake of your wars. And maybe when our country is free, then that wound will close.”

“I doubt it. You might have ruled a nation.”