•• ••●•• ••

. She sneaked back into her room at six in the morning, after walking Nina all the way to the White Rose. She was hoping to catch at least an hour of sleep, but Cassian had walked into her room fifteen minutes after she had arrived. He had told her there was a draught in the hall, and he had been checking whether the windows were closed in every room. Nonetheless, he had seen her then, fully clothed and awake, which meant she couldn't have gone back to sleep. And there she was; more than thirty hours without sleep, about to go for Saints knew how much longer.

Her goodbyes with Milana, Andrei and Anton were rushed; she didn't find Cassian at all – perhaps he didn't want to be found by her. He had always been supportive, but Lianna suspected he would rather have her stay in Ketterdam. She tried to distract herself from thinking, I might as well never see them again, as she walked ahead towards the loading docks, heavy bags held in both of her hands.

The docks were peaceful, a silent type of calm, as opposed to the busy ways of quiescence uptown. She could hear the waves crashing against the shore, causing the movement of the anchored ships and their chains to rattle, but here, it all seemed only natural. Her breathing was steady like her steps as she passed one row of crates and containers after another.

Two, three more turns and she joined the rest of the crew near the pier, a mist was rising off the water, making them look more like dangerous criminals and less like teenagers. They were all wearing drab, sailor clothing, similar to Lianna's. Kaz stood completely still, blending in with the darkness of the moonless night almost completely. Next to him were Nina and Jesper, Matthias standing a little further away, like Wylan, who seemed to be trembling. You should be scared, too.

Behind them, she saw the little schooner Kaz had commandeered, Ferolind written in bold script on its side. It would fly the purple Kerch fishes under the colourful flag of the Haanraadt Bay Company. To anyone in Fjerda or on the True Sea, they would simply look like Kerch trappers heading north for skins and furs. Some people unknown to Lianna were bustling near the boat; they were probably the experienced sailors Kaz hired.

In the dim glow of the harbour's gaslights, everything felt a little surreal. As if she was trapped in somebody else's dream. It could have been her exhaustion curving the reality, though.

"You're late," Kaz said.

"Sorry," she responded disgenuinely, looking around. She couldn't see Inej, but that wasn't unusual.

"Why so much luggage?" asked Jesper, taking the bags from her. "You know this isn't a vacation trip, right?"

"There are coats and food in there, Jesper," Lianna said, rubbing her sore wrists. "So you don't freeze your tail off or starve in Fjerda."

Jesper beamed, his teeth flashing white. "Of course, you'd miss me." Then he turned to Kaz, raising voth bags high in the air as if they weighed no more than a feather. "I'll put those on Ferolind."

"Not yet," said Kaz. "We're waiting for Inej."

"Kaz, where is Inej?" Nina cut in. She was looking around, probably half-expecting The Wraith to materialise out of thin air.

"She'll make it soon." Laconic as ever. Was this a part of another one of his top secret plans? Or maybe, out of habit, Kaz was waiting for something bad to happen.

"Kaz!" They heard Inej's shout.

And in the very next second, the schooner exploded, consumed by malicious flames and knocking everyone off their feet. Everything was set ablaze, as what seemed like the light of a thousand fires showered over the harbour.

Shots were fired from every direction. With her eyes shut tight, coughing the smoke out of her lungs, Lianna felt someone clutch her arm. The person started running, dragging her along, away from the fire. The pace was too quick and she couldn't see, tripping every few steps until she finally fell over, slipping out of the person's grip.

She felt the collar of her coat being tugged on, "Come on, kid. Get a grip."

Lianna let out another strangled cough and rose to her knees. Looking up, through tears and what felt like blood dripping down her forehead and covering her vision, she saw Jesper's outstretched arm. She took it and the boy helped her stand up.

"What happened?" she asked, as they run towards nothing. Lianna wiped her face with her sleeve, noticing bloody redness when lowering her hand. She had to find Nina.

"Oh you didn't notice?" he commented, pushing her behind one of the containers. "Our ship exploded."

Jesper took one of his guns out, aiming towards where their enemies could have been hiding, and Lianna felt her heart skip a beat. They've been through situations like this before, she thought. Kaz, Jesper and Inej. Nina and Matthias. They'll know what to do. But it didn't seem that way.

"I know it exploded," she whispered. "But why? How did they know we were going to be here tonight and..." She frowned. "What's so funny?"

Jesper was grinning like an idiot, his eyes sparkling with adrenaline. Pistols steady in his hands, but fingers fiddling on the triggers, as if teasing the bullets, ready whenever. Excitement.

And that was when he started shooting. Rapid, infernal gunfire flooded the harbour once more.

"Do you want a gun?" he asked, somehow managing to aim from both pistols at once.

"I don't need a gun."

"Exactly. And that's why you'll never understand the incredible feeling of getting into a gunfight."

A bullet hit the edge of the container they were hiding behind and Jesper pushed her backwards, further into the shadowed space between the crates, staying in the position to fire himself. They were being shot at, many of their men possibly dead already, not a lot of options available in their current situation. They'd lost their transportation to Fjerda, and if the shots raining down on them were any indication, they were seriously outnumbered.

"Loosing in a fight and risking your life. An incredible feeling, truly." She noticed a rifleman on top of a crate aiming at Jesper as he leaned out. Lianna focused on the breeze blowing from the sea towards the shore, steered and strenghtened it, knocking the man over with a swift sweep of her arm.

Jesper crouched down to reload and let out a groan. Lianna followed his gaze towards where, on the exact opposite side of the wide passage dividing two rows of crates, Wylan Van Eck was curled up on the dock.

"Stay behind, Lianna." Jesper heaved a sigh, lay down a few shots for cover and lunged out from behind the security of their crate. He ran to the other side of the berth, some twisted kind of miracle allowing him to not get shot in the process, seized Wylan by the collar of his shirt and yanked him backwards, giving him a little shake.

Lianna couldn't hear their conversation. The situation didn't get any better, but it was good to be sure at least one more of them was still alive. Jesper gave Wylan his rifle. Lianna saw someone running at them from behind the crates and raised her arms, but it turned out to be just Kaz. He said something to Jesper and waved at her frantically, then went back into the shadows, probably to look for the rest. Jesper motioned for Lianna to move, covering for her with his revolvers. Before any second thoughts could get to her, she sprinted forward, flinching at every bullet that ricocheted around her.

"The next dock, board at berth twenty-two," he said, a hint of anger in his words. "The real Ferolind is waiting there."

"Of course it is." Another movement of her hand, another man blasted away from them.

Jesper gave Wylan a jostle. "Let's go."

"Go?"

"Didn't you hear what Kaz said? We need to make it to berth twenty-two."

Wylan looked like he was caught in a trance, meanwhile Lianna's own heart was beating at the speed of light, as if it wanted to jump out from her ribcage.

"Just stay behind me and try not to get killed. Ready?"

"Yeah," she answered, but Wylan shook his head.

"Then forget I asked." He placed Wylan's hand on the rifle's grip. "Come on."

Jesper laid down another series of shots, and lunged away from the crate and into the shadows, Lianna and Wylan following. They pounded towards the next stack of barrels, Lianna yelping each time a bullet whizzed by her.

They threw themselves behind the barrels and weight was lifted off her heart when she saw Nina, safe and sound, crouched behind one of the crates. She had her arms raised, and as one of their attackers moved into view, she clenched her fist. The boy crumpled to the ground, clutching his chest. Both she and Nina at a disadvantage in the labirynths of containers, though; using Grisha powers took space, and was much more complicated than some could expect. Helvar was beside her with his back to the crate, hands bound. That is, before Nina produced a knife from her sleeve and slashed through Helvar's bonds. She slapped a pistol into his hands.

Helvar looked as if he was seriously considering shooting her, so when Lianna threw the next gunman into the air, she made sure he landed at the Fjerdan's feet. But Matthias didn't pay attention to that; he was was standing next to Nina, aiming into the maze of crates and beyond. They were fighting side by side.

Jesper gave a sharp whistle, Nina glanced over her shoulder, and beamed when her gaze found Lianna's, then Jesper's. Jesper flashed two fingers, twice, and she gave a quick nod. Had she known about the decoy? Out of all people, Kaz should have told Lianna. If not, why make her take care of the supplies? She, or rather Jesper, had to leave them all, next to the wrecked, false Ferolind.

They continued to make their way past the boats and ships moored along the dock, keeping as low as possible.

"There!" she heard a voice shout from somewhere behind them.

"Damn it," Jesper said. They'd been spotted. "Run!"

They pounded down the dock. There, at berth twenty-two, was a trimlooking schooner with Ferolind written on its side. It was almost eerie how much it looked like the other boat. No lanterns had been lit aboard it, but as they bolted up the ramp, two sailors emerged.

"You're the first ones here," said a tall, dark-haired boy.

"Let's hope we're not the last." Jesper must have known him; probably one of the Barrel boys. "Are you armed?"

He nodded. "Brekker told us to stay hidden until—"

"This is until," Jesper said pointing to the men storming towards them on the dock and snatching his rifle back from Wylan. "I need to get to high ground. Keep them back and distracted as long as you can."

Lianna looked at the men running towards them. She didn't know how to shoot and, with such little space, there was no way she'd be able to get rid of them all. She felt power tingling at her fingertips, but she needed more. Needed to get higher.

"Jesper—" began Wylan.

"No one gets past you. If they take down this schooner, we're done for."

Lianna began taking off her coat.

"And what the hell are you doing?"

"My movements have to be free," she retorted frantically, tugging the sleeves, then threw the piece of clothing to the ground, and without hesitating for another second, ran further down from Ferolind. Onwards, towards the berth twenty-three.

"Lianna!" Jesper yelled, but he had no time to go after her.

He was probably cursing her name as she sprinted, calling her a coward or a traitor, but none of that mattered. They had to act, and waiting for Jesper's or Kaz's approval would have been pointless.

Lianna had no sense of direction, but she vividly remembered everything about the night she arrived in Ketterdam. She remembered the calmness of the sea and the strange atmosphere on the ship suspended in between two worlds; Ravka, shook to its very core, and Kerch, unwavering, and how that quiescence of being surrounded by water disappeared, blending into Ketterdam's ever-present hecticness.

And amongst it all, she remembered the lighthouse; how its blinding beacons had pierced through the atramentous night, made to lead people home, back then a grim how far she had been from hers instead. How she had travelled on that ship, and how it had at the lighthouse like a moth drawn to a flame.

It was located near enough; the exact place in which berths twenty-two and twenty-three met and divided. If she could somehow get to the top of that lighthouse, they could still win. If not, they could die. Because the men gunning for them didn't just care about keeping the Dregs from leaving the harbour. They wanted them dead.

Shots were still being fired, but she couldn't tell from where or at whom as she ran, thankfully quicker than those who were chasing them.

Four million kruge, she reminded herself bitterly, speeding through the mist and sounds of gunfire. Just hold on a bit more.

And she did. One quick-paced step after another, one gunshot heard from behind followed by a series of responses, the breaths she barely catched when running and face still sticky with blood, she managed to reach the phare.

It looked enormous from down there and anxiousness began rising within her as she stumbled to the door, but she did not pay attention to those thoughts; if nobody else had control over the situation, she had to hold on to those little bits of it she had left. The door was closed, because of course it was – irritated, Lianna raised her fist and twisted her wrist, ripping the lock off completely. The handle landed on the ground, sending an echo of cascading noise out into the harbour, but Lianna was invincible to that. Another movement of her hand, the open door, the dim-lit corridor of narrow, paved steps going upwards, her feet almost deafeningly loud on the stairs as she ran to the roof.

The top was way too far up, she realised absent-mindedly. She had long since been a skilled enough Grisha for winning in a territory as narrow as the docks surrounded by crates. She had to get high enough to see the whole field of battle, high enough to be able to breathe the air, connect to it, actually feel it. But the very top was too far up.

She just kept going, wondering whether or not all of this was even worth the trouble, when a nightly chill of the outdoors enveloped her once more, an epiphany arriving with it. Lianna stopped abruptly mid-track, right next to a window. This tower had windows. With outer sills.

She walked up to the embrasure and grappled with the old, rusty handle until it gave out with a lound clank! Lianna carefully fronted through the opened hatchway, onto the narrow platform.

"Saints," she murmured. She held tight onto the sill, trying not to look at the coblestones below while standing up, and pressed her back against the wall. Inside of the lighthouse, the gunfire was muffled; now it reverberated again. In the dim light of the lanterns, she could barely make out Jesper's silhouette – and a swarm of shadows surrounding him. Jesper was defending Ferolind bravely, but he could only go on for so long.

Lianna squinted her eyes and raised her hands, palms open, feeling the life-giving electricity. She had been so used to ignoring it, it was almost possible to forget it's endless presence. The breeze arriving from the ocean, the way air cooled down the higher it went; how the atmosphere encompassed everything, always. Inferni and Tidemakers could never understand this; fire and water were not elements essential for air to remain. Only the other way around.

It only took seconds for her to feel it all again. A gentle blow rose upon the harbour, it's cold but contained streaks brushing against Lianna's face. Leaving was a long journey, but coming back only took seconds. And it felt as if allowing herself to remember her connection to this world also allowed memories to return, because for a split moment, she was in Ravka once more.

Another look ahead, at Jesper, at their enemies, but this time, everything was clealer. Lianna borrowed nature's power, accumulated it in her fists, high above the ground. It was not resting at her fingertips as much as it was flowing through her entire body; filling every cell with a new-found strength and her lungs with pure oxygen. She was going to direct that blast awaiting for momentum at the people closing in on Jesper.

But then she heard a scream.

"Matthias!" Nina yelled, far on the left.

Lianna turned towards the shout, only to see Nina had been caught in an impasse. She was on her knees, in front a stack of crates, from behind which people started emerging. She was holding Matthias in her arms (had he been shot?), despite his best efforts at breaking free from her grip. One of Heartrender's hands was raised, her expression determined, but it was obvious the odds were not in her favor. A man came at her, gun raised, and Lianna did not even look back to check on Jesper.

"Nina!" she exclaimed, swinging her entire body and extending her arms at the people attacking Nina, launching a sphere of wind, violent as all storms. She almost fell over, the momentum of her own movements causing her to lose balance before she held onto the brick wall of the lighthouse.

She was right – distance made it better. From up close, she'd have to deal with these men one by one, but now, a single blast sent them all flying, stumbling against the wooden crates. Nina must not have heard her, because she was looking around frantically, searching for Lianna.

"Nina!!" she yelled once more, waving with one hand while still holding onto the bricks with the other.

Nina saw her finally, expression going soft at first. But then her beam disappeared, terror coming onto her face instead. She looked like she'd seen a ghost, jumping onto her feet and pointing behind her. "Lianna!"

Lianna felt a hand close around her ankle before she saw the attacker. A boy yanked her back into the corridor, making her head hit the windowsill in the process. Lianna landed on the stairs. Her face was at the same level as his shoes, which he took advantage of immedietly, giving a abrupt kick she barely avoided. As he was regaining his balance from the missed hit, she rolled a few steps down and rose to her feet.

"So, you're Brekker's newest pretty purchase?" he said. He was tall, red-haired and quite good looking. No more than three years older than her. The boy carried himself with the confidence and alert rapaciousness of the Barrel's natural criminal class; like Kaz, but this one felt much less sane.

"Call me whatever you want," she retorted, straightening up. "But if I were you, I'd step away from the window. Unless you want to go home bruised and beaten, that is."