- The longer you’re free, the easier it will get.
- The longer you're free, the bigger the surprise will be when they come for you. The least you'll expect it
- I still wasn’t used to the idea of us together.
- “Do they like eunuchs, too? Because I can arrange that.”
- “You two make it so easy. I prick him, you bleed.”
- The Darkling just stared out into the waves. I considered shoving him over the railing. Sure, he was hundreds of years old, but could he swim?
- I know the truth in your heart. The loneliness. The growing knowledge of your own difference.” He leaned in closer. “The ache of it.”
- But I couldn’t deny what I’d felt in Novyi Zem or the truth of what the Darkling had shown me: my own sadness, my own longing, reflected back to me in his bleak gray eyes.
- Besides, I like to have powerful enemies. Makes me feel important.”
- “Might want to leave him alone,” Sturmhond said. “That type needs plenty of time for brooding and self-recrimination. Otherwise they get cranky.”
- “Might want to leave him alone,” Sturmhond said. “That type needs plenty of time for brooding and self-recrimination. Otherwise they get cranky.”
- “Evening, all,” said Sturmhond, slapping his hands together, seemingly oblivious to our somber mood. “Perfect night for tearing a hole in the universe, no?”
- “Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea.”
- “My mother was an oyster,” he said with a wink. “And I’m the pearl.”
- Mal pulled me closer. “Were you always this much trouble?” “I like to think of myself as delightfully complex.”
- “Brothers,” he said, “I have brought the Sun Summoner back to Ravka.” I couldn’t help myself. I hauled off and punched him in the face.
- “It would be a marriage in name only,” Sturmhond insisted. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he flashed Mal a taunting grin. “Except for the matter of producing heirs.”
- I took a breath. “Your highness—” “Nikolai,” he corrected. “But I’ve also been known to answer to ‘sweetheart’ or ‘handsome.’”
- Legends come to life before my eyes, just to die in front of me.
- The less you say, the more weight your words will carry. Don’t argue. Never deign to deny. Meet insults with laughter. “You didn’t laugh at the Fjerdan captain,” I observed. “That wasn’t an insult. It was a challenge,” he said. “Know the difference.” Weakness is a guise. Wear it when they need to know you’re human, but never when you feel it. Don’t wish for bricks when you can build from stone. Use whatever or whoever is in front of you. Being a leader means someone is always watching you. Get them to follow the little orders, and they’ll follow the big ones. It’s okay to flout expectations, but never disappoint them.
- Sometimes, it was just easier to follow.
- “I don’t care if you think I’m a Saint or a fool or the Darkling’s whore. If you want to remain at the Little Palace, you will follow me. And if you don’t like it, you will be gone by tonight, or I will have you in chains. I am a soldier. I am the Sun Summoner. And I’m the only chance you have.”
- “Mal, I put a hole in the ceiling.” “A very dramatic hole.” I let out a huff somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “What are we going to do when it rains?”
- you just almost sliced someone in half! girl's got her priorities straight
- With a start, I realized that the room smelled like him. I had never even noticed that he had a scent. I shut my eyes and breathed deeply. What was it? The crisp edge of a winter wind. Bare branches. The smell of absence, the smell of night.
- “You heard Prince Perfect,” Mal said, and joined us at the table. Nikolai grinned. “I’ve had a lot of nicknames, but that one is easily the most accurate.”
- “Short on friends, your highness?” “And long on enemies,”
- “Watch yourself, Nikolai,” Mal said softly. “Princes bleed just like other men.” Nikolai plucked an invisible piece of dust from his sleeve. “Yes,” he said. “They just do it in better clothes.”
- “I’m ambitious, Alina. I’m driven. But I hope … I hope I still know the difference between right and wrong.”
- “You’re taking to power well, I see. As it grows, it will hunger for more. Like calls to like, girl.”
- “At Keramzin, I had a doll I made out of an old sock that I used to talk to whenever he was away hunting. Maybe that would make me feel better.” “You were an odd little girl.” “You have no idea. What did you and Tolya play with?” “The skulls of our enemies.” I saw the glint in her eye, and we both burst out laughing.
- Like most Saints’ tales, the story of his martyrdom was depressingly brutal: One day, a plow had overturned in the fields behind his home. Hearing the screams, Ilya ran to help, only to find a man weeping over his dead son, the boy’s body torn open by the blades, the ground soaked through with his blood. Ilya had brought the boy back to life—and the villagers had thanked him for it by clapping him in irons and tossing him into a river to sink beneath the weight of his chains.
- “What was that about?” he asked, his face worried. “Oh, you know,” I replied. “Another prince, another proposal.” “You can’t be serious,” Mal said with a disbelieving laugh. “He doesn’t waste any time.”
- “Do you think the Darkling had to deal with unwanted advances from wet-lipped royals?” I asked glumly. Mal snickered. “What’s so funny?” “I just pictured the Darkling being cornered by a sweaty duchess trying to have her way with him.”
- “Maybe,” I said. “But I’ll probably die of boredom before he does.” Nikolai laughed. “Next time, bring a flask. Every time he changes his mind, take a sip.” I groaned. “I’d be passed out on the floor before the hour was up.”
- “His father is Stepan Gritzki, the pickle king.
- 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.
- “Eeet eeees … goooood,” said Mal in the most outrageous Suli accent I’d ever heard. The girl sighed in relief. “You weeel meet a handsome stranger.” The girls giggled and clapped their hands. I couldn’t resist. “He weeel be very wicked man,” I interjected. My accent was even worse than Mal’s. If any real Suli overheard me, I’d probably end up with a black eye. “You must run from theees man.” “Oh,” the girls sighed in disappointment. “You must marry ugly man,” I said. “Very fet.” I held my arms out in front of me, indicating a giant belly. “He weeel make you heppy.” I heard Mal snort beneath his mask.
- “Why are you so ready to attack him?” “Why are you so quick to defend him?”
- “And I can’t decide if you’re an idiot or an idiot.”
- “Why won’t you leave me alone?” I whispered one night as he hovered behind me while I tried to work at my desk.
- I got used to seeing him waiting for me at the end of corridors, or sitting at the edge of my bed when I fell asleep at night. When he didn’t appear, I sometimes found myself looking for him or wondering why he hadn’t come, and that frightened me most of all.
- “If it works, it will be plenty dramatic. And I suppose that if it doesn’t work, it will be even more dramatic, what with the blast.” “David, I think you just made a joke.” He frowned, utterly perplexed. “Did I?”
- “I’ve seen the way you change personas, Nikolai. You’re always what everyone needs you to be. Maybe you never felt like you belonged, or maybe you’re just saying that to make the poor, lonely orphan girl like you more.”
- I didn’t even think I wanted him to kiss me. But my pride was still smarting from Mal’s rejection. Hadn’t he said he’d kissed plenty of girls? “I want to kiss you,” Nikolai said. “But I won’t. Not until you’re thinking of me instead of trying to forget him.”
- To Their Most Royal Majesties, the King and Queen of Ravka: It is with a sad heart that I must proffer my regrets and inform you that I will be unable to attend the festivities celebrating the birth of Prince Nikolai Lantsov, Grand Duke of Udova. Unfortunate circumstances have arisen, namely that my best friend can’t seem to stand the sight of me, and your son didn’t kiss me, and I wish he had. Or I wish he hadn’t. Or I’m still not sure what I wish, but there’s a very good chance that if I’m forced to sit through his stupid birthday dinner, I’ll end up sobbing into my cake. With best wishes on this most happy of occasions, Alina Starkov, Idiot
- I didn’t tell you because I think I might be going mad. And because I think you’re already a little afraid of me.”
- Aboard the whaler, I’d asked the Darkling why he’d let his monster bite me. I’d thought it was out of spite, so I would always wear his mark. Maybe there had been more to it than that. Had the vision been real? Was he there, or was he something my mind had conjured? What sickness was inside of me that I would dream such a thing?
- YES I don't think the darkling would want to hurt her, unless he had something to gain from it. From the beginning i thought that with the bite from the nichevoya he had a direct link to alina, at least to her head
- “You know the problem with heroes and saints, Nikolai?” I asked as I closed the book’s cover and headed for the door. “They always end up dead.”
- “I’ve seen what you truly are,” said the Darkling, “and I’ve never turned away. I never will. Can he say the same?”
- I’d seen a thousand horrors on this long day, but this was the one that broke me, Genya cringing away from David like a frightened animal. Luminous Genya, with her alabaster skin and graceful hands. Resilient Genya, who had endured countless indignities and insults, but who had always held her lovely chin high. Foolish Genya, who had tried to be my friend, who had dared to show me mercy.
- “We are alike,” he said, “as no one else is, as no one else will ever be.” The truth of it rang through me. Like calls to like.
- There was darkness inside me. He had put it there, and I would no longer deny it. The volcra, the nichevo’ya, they were my monsters, all of them. And he was my monster, too. “My power is yours,” I repeated. His arms tightened around me. “And yours is mine,” I whispered against his lips.
- stone walls of the White Cathedral. The Apparat said it was a holy place, their haven, their sanctuary, their home. The boy shook his head. He knew a cell when he saw one. He was wrong, of course. The girl could tell from the way the Apparat watched her struggle to her feet. She heard it in each fragile thump of her heart. This place was no prison. It was a tomb.
- (that’s how epic’s done, son).
- The problem with acknowledgments is that they quickly devolve into long lists of names suitable for skimming. But many people are required to make a book happen, and they deserve recognition, so please bear with me. (If it gets boring, I recommend singing aloud. Get a friend to beatbox for you. I’ll wait.)
nov 23 2014 ∞
nov 26 2014 +