I waited a moment longer. “You can stay,” I said. “For now.”

“Is everything all right?” Mal asked. We hadn’t even noticed that he’d left off sparring.

In an instant, Zoya’s uncertainty was gone. She gave him a dazzling smile. “I hear you’re quite the marvel with a bow and arrow. I thought you might offer me a lesson.”

Mal glanced from Zoya back to me. “Maybe later.”

“I look forward to it,” she said, and swept away in a soft rustle of silk.

“What was that about?” he asked as we began the walk up the hill to the Little Palace.

“I don’t trust her.”

For a long minute he said nothing. “Alina,” Mal began uneasily, “what happened in Kribirsk—”

I cut him off quickly. I didn’t want to know what he might have done with Zoya back at the Grisha camp. And that was hardly the point. “She was one of the Darkling’s favorites, and she’s always hated me.”

“She was probably jealous of you.”

“She broke two of my ribs.”

“She what?”

“It was an accident. Sort of.” I’d never told Mal exactly how bad it had been for me before I’d learned to use my power, the endless, lonely days of failure. “I just can’t be sure where her real allegiance lies.” I rubbed the back of my neck where the muscles had started to bunch. “I can’t be sure of anyone. Not the Grisha. Not the servants. Any of them could be working for the Darkling.”

Mal looked around. For once, nobody seemed to be watching. Impulsively, he seized hold of my hand. “Gritzki’s throwing a fortune-telling party in the upper town two days from now. Come with me.”

“Gritzki?”

“His father is Stepan Gritzki, the pickle king. New money,” Mal said in a very good imitation of a smug noble. “But his family has a palace down by the canal.”

“I can’t,” I said, thinking of the meetings, David’s mirrored dishes, the evacuation of the school. It just felt wrong to go to a party when we could be at war in a matter of days or weeks.

“You can,” said Mal. “Just for an hour or two.”

It was so tempting—to steal a few moments with Mal away from the pressures of the Little Palace.

He must have sensed that I was wavering. “We’ll dress you up as one of the performers,” he said. “No one will even know the Sun Summoner is there.”

A party, late in the evening, after the day’s work was done. I’d miss one night of futile searching through the library. What was the harm in that?

“All right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

His face broke into a grin that left me breathless. I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to the idea that a smile like that might actually be for me.

“Tolya and Tamar won’t like it,” he warned.

“They’re my guards. They follow my orders.”

Mal snapped to attention and swept me an elaborate bow. “Da, moi soverenyi,” he pronounced in somber tones. “We live to serve.”