Ruin and Rising

“From my first day in the White Cathedral, threat had hung heavy in the air, suffocating me with the steady press of fear. The Apparat never missed an opportunity to remind me of my vulnerability. Almost without thinking, I twitched my fingers in my sleeves. Shadows leapt up the walls of the chamber. […] I let the shadows fall. […] I could make [them] jump and dance but nothing more. It was a sad little echo of the Darkling’s power, some remnant left behind in the wake of the confrontation that had nearly killed us both. I’d discovered it when trying to summon light, and I’d struggled to hone it to something greater, something I could fight with. I’d had no success. The shadows felt like a punishment, ghosts of greater power that served only to taunt me, the Saint of shams and mirrors.” 

Alina’s relative powerlessness and the disgust she feels with herself at being unable to summon appear in the phrase “shams and mirrors.” Just as a mirror only reflects another object, Alina can only reflect the power of others, including the Darkling, while she lacks access to the sun. Alina’s trace of shadow-summoning will play a fateful role at the end of the book when she uses it to conceal the Grisha knife from the Darkling.

“Whether the Grisha plot was real or some subterfuge invented by the priest, this was the moment he had been hoping for, the chance to make my isolation complete. No more visits to the Kettle with Genya, no more stolen conversation with David. The priest would use this chance to separate me from anyone whose loyalties were tied more tightly to me than his cause. And I was too weak to stop him. But was Tamar telling the truth? Were these allies really enemies? Nadia hung her head. Zoya kept her chin lifted, her blue eyes bright with challenge. It was easy to believe that either or both of them might turn against me, might seek the Darkling out and offer me as a gift with some hope of clemency. And David had helped to place the collar around my neck.” 

This passage reflects the doubt and uncertainty that Alina feels as she wonders about her supposed friends’ motives. She isn’t sure who she can trust wholeheartedly or who will only serve her as long as it suits them. The Apparat wants to fully isolate Alina, a powerful threat to her since she already struggles with feeling alone and knowing when she can rely on others.

“Relief came with the light, a sense of being right and whole for the first time in months. Some part of me had truly feared I might never be restored completely, that by using merzost in my fight with the Darkling, by daring to create shadow soldiers and trespass in the making at the heart of the world, I had somehow forfeited this gift. But now it was as if I could feel my body coming to life, my cells reviving. Power rippled through my blood, reverberated in my bones.” 

This quote makes it apparent that Alina has a strong restorative response to using her power. Going underground has weakened her in many ways—most notably by making her wonder whether she bears a similarity to the Darkling by creating beings out of nothing (merzost). However, once she has access to light again, Alina regains her sense of self and her strength, suggesting that the Apparat has put her in a vulnerable position.

“I wanted to tell [Mal] that he hadn’t failed me, but that wasn’t quite true. I’d lied to him about the visions that plagued me. He’d pushed me away when I’d needed him most. Maybe we’d both asked each other to give up too much. Fair or not, I felt like Mal had turned his back on me, and some part of me resented him for it.” 

Adding to the sense of vulnerability that Alina feels is her doubt about and anger toward Mal. In the previous books, Mal has struggled to accept Alina’s Grisha identity, feeling that it alienates him from her and changes her into something she’s not. The two will eventually reconcile and strengthen their bond, but at this moment in the novel, Alina struggles to feel that they will ever regain their closeness.

“I’d contemplated killing the Apparat today; I’d burned my mark into Vladim’s flesh. I’d told myself I had to, but the girl I’d been never would have considered such things. I hated the Darkling for what he’d done to Baghra and Genya, but was I so different?” 

Alina worries about her moral compass after the heated incident with the Apparat during which she regains her powers. She fears being as ruthless as the Darkling, who mutilated Baghra—his own mother—and Genya. This fear about what she is capable of makes Alina a more complex protagonist.

“If [Morozova] was led by some noble purpose, I didn’t see it in his pages. But I sensed something more in his fevered writings, in his insistence that power was everywhere for the taking. He had lived long before the creation of the Second Army. He was the most powerful Grisha the world had ever known—and that power had isolated him. I remembered the Darkling’s words to me: There are no others like us, Alina. And there never will be. Maybe Morozova wanted to believe that if there were no others like him, there could be, that he might imagine Grisha of greater power. Or maybe I was just imagining things, seeing my own loneliness and greed in Morozova’s pages. The mess of what I knew and what I wanted, my desire for the firebird, my own sense of difference had all gotten too hard to untangle.”

Many of the complex feelings Alina experiences throughout the book are apparent in this passage. She, the Darkling, and Morozova struggle with feelings of isolation and loneliness because of their powers, and she believes that she is capable of their morally dangerous actions, calling herself “greedy” because she enjoyed the process of merzost. Alina’s self-awareness, however, acknowledging her greed, her loneliness, and her “sense of difference,” mark her as different from the other two magicians.

“It took us far too long to get out of the cemetery. The rows of crypts stretched on and on, cold testimony to the generations Ravka had been at war. The paths were raked clean, the graves marked with flowers, painted icons, gifts of candy, little piles of precious ammunition—small kindnesses, even for the dead. I thought of the men and women bidding us goodbye at the White Cathedral, pressing their offerings into our hands. I was grateful when we finally cleared the gates.” 

The care and attention with which the graves are marked and decorated suggests not just that the deceased are remembered fondly but that death has become integrated into Ravkan culture. The dead receive things of value, like candy in a land of famine and hunger, and “precious” ammunition. Alina is uneasy not only because of the pressure she feels to redeem her people but also because the graves serve of a reminder of how commonplace death is in Ravka.

“Through the glass, I saw terraces protruding in four directions, giant spikes like compass points—north, south, east, west. […] It was hard not to compare it to the damp, cloistered caverns of the White Cathedral. Everything here was bursting with life and hope. It all bore Nikolai’s stamp.”

The Spinning Wheel contrasts with the underground White Cathedral in almost every way. Of note is the glass ceiling that allows Alina access to light and contributes to the sense of spaciousness in the Spinning Wheel, rather than the cramped caves she experienced underground. The personal differences between the Apparat, whom Alina distrusts, and Nikolai, whom she regards as a friend and ally, reflect in the places that are associated with them.

“Suffering is cheap as clay and twice as common. What matters is what each man makes of it.” 

Baghra’s comment reflects the reality she and many of the other characters have experienced in war-torn Ravka. The metaphor of clay is appropriate for the story’s setting, in which clay would have been a material familiar to peasants and laborers. Baghra affirms that a person’s choices, not circumstances, create character.

“They wanted a Grisha queen. Mal wanted a commoner queen. And what did I want? Peace for Ravka. A chance to sleep easy in my bed without fear. An end to the guilt and dread that I woke to every morning. There were old wants, too, to be loved for who I was, not what I could do, to lie in a meadow with a boy’s arms around me and watch the wind move the clouds. But those dreams belonged to a girl, not to the Sun Summoner, not to a Saint.” 

Alina’s reflections on her desire indicate that she regards her chance of simple happiness with Mal as out of her reach. The various motives that other people use to get close to Alina (the Darkling and Nikolai, for example) tend to center on her status as a Sun Summoner. Alina, meanwhile, longs to be loved for who she is rather than for the power she possesses.

“If I was honest with myself, I could see that [Mal had] flourished since we’d left the Little Palace, even underground. He had become a leader in his own right, found a new sense of purpose. I couldn’t say he seemed happy, but maybe that would come in time, with peace, with a chance for a future. We would find the firebird. We would face the Darkling. Maybe we’d even win. I would put on Nikolai’s ring, and Mal would be reassigned. He would have the life he should have had, that he might have had without me. So why did that knife between my ribs keep twisting?” 

As much as she wants to be with Mal, Alina acknowledges that aspects of her new life do not align well with his personality. She has resigned herself to the two of them being apart at the end of the war. She expresses the emotional pain she experiences at this thought as a metaphorical “knife” between her ribs.

“We moved from place to place, we saw the way our people lived, the way they were mistreated, the lives they were forced to eke out in secrecy and fear. He vowed that we would someday have a safe place, that Grisha power would be something to be valued and coveted, something our country would treasure. We would be Ravkans, not just Grisha. That dream was the seed of the Second Army. A good dream.” 

Baghra attempts to explain why her son is so bitter and ruthless. The emotional backstory behind the Darkling’s motivations helps make him more humane, since it’s implied that he has emotional wounds from the discrimination he faced growing up. The author also implies the larger discrimination against Grisha in some Ravkan circles here.

“I had two very different sets of luggage. One was nothing but a simple soldier’s pack that would be put aboard the Bittern. It was stocked with roughspun trousers, an olive drab coat treated to resist the rain, heavy boots, a small reserve of coin for any bribes or purchases I might need to make in Dva Stolba, a fur hat, and a scarf to cover Morozova’s collar. The other set was stowed on the Kingfisher—a collection of three matching trunks emblazoned with my golden sunburst and stuffed with silks and furs.” 

Alina’s possessions reflect her different and opposing identities. The clothing associated with her soldier persona is simple, anonymous, and practical, while the garments associated with her Sun Summoner identity are more luxurious. Her Summoner luggage is also marked with her symbol, reflecting the rarity and individuality of her magical powers.

“All at once, the pain in my chest was so bad it nearly bent me double. Because this was what Mal had been coming to show me. Because that look—that open, eager, happy look—had been for me. Because I would always be the first person he turned to when he saw something lovely, and I would do the same. Whether I was a Saint or a queen or the most powerful Grisha who ever lived, I would always turn to him.” 

This passage begins to re-establish Mal’s emotional primacy to Alina. Whereas before she acted under the assumption that she would eventually be separated from Mal, now Alina realizes that she can never part from him, no matter what the circumstances. This will heighten the emotional turmoil she feels when she is forced to kill him later in the book.

“But Misha didn’t just remind me of Sergei. He was every child whose parents went to war. He was every boy and girl at Keramzin. He was Baghra begging for her father’s attention. He was the Darkling learning loneliness at his mother’s knee. This was what Ravka did. It made orphans. It made misery. No land, no life, just a uniform and a gun.” 

This quote calls to attention the trials and injustices experienced by Ravka’s people as they defend a country that has failed to offer them the chance for a good life. The phrase “no land, no life, just a uniform and a gun” reflects the emptiness that many generations of Ravkans have felt in the endless war and oppression their country has subjected them to. The emotional wounds experienced by Baghra and the Darkling are used to draw connections between them and the rest of Ravka.

“The beauty of the Sikurzoi came on me suddenly. The only mountains I’d known were the icy peaks of the far north and the Petrazoi—jagged, gray, and forbidding. But these mountains were gentle, rolling, their soft slopes covered in tall grasses, the valleys between them crossed with slow-moving rivers that flashed blue and then gold in the sun. Even the sky felt welcoming, a prairie of infinite blue, thick white clouds stacked heavy on the horizon, the snow-capped peaks of the southern range visible in the distance.” 

Even though Alina and Mal don’t have any helpful memories as they enter the mountains where they were born, Alina still has an emotional response to the landscape. The contrast between the “forbidding” mountains of Ravka and the “soft” ones of the Sikurzoi foreshadows the fact that Alina is about to “come home” to the realization that Mal is the amplifier. The “welcoming” sky continues evoking emotions of safety and peace—which Alina and Mal will ultimately find at the end of the story.

“I was done with hesitation. It wasn’t just that we’d run out of options, or that so much was riding on the firebird’s power. I’d simply grown ruthless enough or selfish enough to take another creature’s life. But I missed the girl who had shown the stag mercy, who had been strong enough to turn away from the lure of power, who had believed in something more. Another casualty of this war.” 

Alina realizes she doesn’t have any qualms about killing the firebird if she needs to, which marks a turning point in her character. Previously, Alina was differentiated from the Darkling by her tenderness and empathy toward other living things like the stag and the sea whip. As her power grows, however, and she feels lured by the promise of more with the third amplifier, Alina becomes more resolved to do whatever it takes to defeat the Darkling.

“I might live long enough to see Os Alta turn to dust. Or maybe I’d turn my power back on myself and end it all before then. What would life be like when the people I loved were gone? When there were no mysteries left?” 

This passage highlights Alina’s expected immortality and examines what it would mean for her. She could outlive a seemingly eternal city (Os Alta), watch everyone she loves age and die, and exhaust the “mysteries” that life has to offer. Bardugo has already established that Alina longs to feel connected to other people, a desire that would be thwarted by her immortality since it would prevent her from experiencing typical human life.

“I just know there’s no way to live without pain—no matter how long or short your life is. People let you down. You get hurt and do damage in return. But what the Darkling did to Genya? To Baghra? What he tried to do with you with that collar? That’s weakness. That’s a man afraid.”

Mal sees the insecurity and fear behind the Darkling’s actions toward other characters. This makes him an even stronger foil to the Darkling. His comment about not being able to go through life without pain foreshadows his self-sacrifice at the end of the book.

“The jolt slammed through us at the same time, the same crackling shock we’d felt that night in the woods near the banya. He flinched. This time we had no choice but to hold tight. Our eyes met, and power surged between us, bright and inevitable. I had the sense of a door swinging open, and all I wanted was to step through—this taste of perfect, gleaming elation was nothing compared to what lay on the other side. I forgot where I was, forgot everything but the need to cross that threshold, to claim that power. And with that hunger came horrible understanding. No, I thought desperately. Not this. But it was too late. I knew.” 

This passage underscores how tempted Alina is by her power. It affects her to the extent that she’ll do almost anything to use it more fully. The image of “a door swinging open” expresses how having all three amplifiers (even though the power she receives from Mal is only a portion of what she gains when he is dead) gives Alina a sense of ease and empowerment like never before.

“I’d wondered how Tolya and Tamar had brought Mal back. I’d been willing to simply call it a miracle. Now I thought I understood. Mal had possessed two lives, but only one was rightfully his. The other was stolen, an inheritance wrought from merzost, snatched from the making at the heart of the world. It was the force that had animated Morozova’s daughter when her human life had gone, the power that had reverberated through Mal’s bones. His blood had been thick with it, and that purloined bit of creation was what had made him such a remarkable tracker. It had bound him to every living thing. Like calls to like.” 

This quote explicitly attributes Mal’s tracking abilities to his identity as an amplifier. Like calls to like is a Grisha principle that reflects the magical properties of Bardugo’s world—similar elements are attracted to each other, and Grisha simply direct that attraction. Of course, it can also be understood on an emotional level to explain why Alina and Mal consistently come back to each other.

“I didn’t know what came next or who I was supposed to be. I owned nothing, not even the borrowed clothes on my back. And yet, lying there, I realized I wasn’t afraid. After all I’d been through, there was no fear left in me—sadness, gratitude, maybe even hope, but the fear had been eaten up by pain and challenge. The Saint was gone. The Summoner too. I was just a girl again, but this girl didn’t owe her strength to fate or chance or a grand destiny. I’d been born with my power; the rest I’d earned.” 

Alina begins to view her identity as more robust and resilient than that of a Sun Summoner. She realizes that she has acquired skills—grit, persistence, trust, and selflessness—because of the “pain and challenge” she’s undergone throughout the story. This quote suggests that Alina will be able to craft a new life for herself even though her powers are gone.

“It was easy to blend in with the crowds crossing to and from Ravka. There were families, groups of soldiers, nobles, and peasants. Children climbed over the ruins of sandskiffs. People gathered in spontaneous parties. They kissed and hugged, handed around bottles of kvas and fried bread stuffed with raisins. They greeted each other with shouts of ‘Yunejhost!’ Unity.” 

This description highlights the celebratory nature of Ravkans reuniting with the people they had been separated from by the Fold. The words “parties,” “kissed and hugged,” and the description of the food that drink that the travelers share add to the victorious and festive tone. The people express their desire for harmony with their estranged neighbors and the sense of restoration through their greeting of Yunejhost.