The Fragile Threads of Power (Threads of Power, #1)

by V.E. Schwab

“Kings, Kosika,” said Lark, shaking his fingers. “Are you a girl or a beast?” “Whichever one I need to be,” she shot back.

But Tes couldn’t just see the threads of power.

“A new Antari hasn’t emerged since Kell Maresh, a quarter century ago.

A head gets lost, but a heart knows home.

“Am I that easy to read?” “No,” he said simply. “But I like to think I’m learning.”

Kell shook himself, not wanting to think about the man who’d raised him, and yet had never seen him as a son.

He loved her. It scared him, but frankly, so did Lila. She always had.

The world hadn’t simply opened for her. It had been cleaved, parted like skin beneath her knife.

For once, Lila scowled. For once, Kell smiled.

Tav rolled up to his feet. “Could’ve helped,” he muttered, dusting himself off. “Oh, I would’ve,” whispered Lila, as she turned toward the hold, “but it was too much fun to watch.”

His brother had married well, Kell thought, not for the first time.

To say that in his mind they were still linked, that they would always be, that she was one of only two he loved so much, that he would let himself be bound to them like this.

A black ring hung at the end of the leather cord, its face printed with a ship.

Eventually, Kell had stopped looking. But she hadn’t.

been damaged by that chaotic event, and not a magicless king on a man-made throne?

Rhy knew how to be a prince, a rogue, a brother, a son. He had no idea how to be a king.

“If I wanted a woman in my bed, Alucard, I’d have her. Believe it or not, I prefer to sleep alone.”

“Brother,” said Rhy, holding him tight. And unlike the coat, and all the other trappings of Kell’s old life, this one, at least, still fit.

For a little while, at least, Kay was gone, and so was the king, and the two brothers drank and spoke of everything, and nothing.

As if damaged things could not be fixed. As if damaged did not still mean dangerous.

“I’ve wondered, you know, if it could be them. The Shadows, going by a different name.” “It’s not,” said Kell stiffly. “How do you know?” “Because I killed them all.”

Careful, careful, purred the cat. Right before it pounced.

There was a pale mark around his thumb, where a piece of jewelry had been removed.

She was slight, her body curving with the contours of the chair in which she lounged.

“Your power is yours. Let no one else claim it.”

He didn’t see Lila, and perhaps that was why she lingered, studying the gentle incline of his head, her fingers drifting almost absently to the ring beneath her shirt.

“Your Majesty,” said Lila through gritted teeth, “I mean this with the most respect.” She turned to face Nadiya and said, “Go fuck yourself.”

That table was full of traps he could not see, ones just waiting to be triggered. Sit straighter. Speak up. Do not use that tone with me.

Priste ir essen. Essen ir priste. Power in balance. Balance in power.

Dead people didn’t hurt this much. That’s how Tes knew she was alive.

Back home, she could have simply pulled the threads inside the bolt to free it. But she wasn’t home, and things didn’t work by magic here. They were stubborn, and solid, and it was maddening.

The hinges groaned and the nails pinning her down drew free, and Tes did what she should have done the moment the fight started. She got out of the fucking way.

“Some people,” she mused, “just don’t know how to die.”

The only part she’d wanted to keep, she had. Lark lounged in the grass,

She cared for Rhy, of course, but she was tired of watching Kell sacrifice himself on his brother’s altar, as if his own life and pain meant nothing.

she enjoyed a fine wine, a sharp knife, the things Kell could do with his mouth when he put it to good use—

Once again, Lila reached for her magic. And once again, it didn’t answer.

“Of course, I’m not versed in Antari spells,” he said, “but that’s all right. You’ll teach them to me.” “Here’s one for free,” offered Lila through gritted teeth, dragging her head up as far as the working would allow. “Go fuck yourself.”

“You came.” Kell stepped into the room, the black ring’s cord swinging from his fingers. “You called.”

Berras wasn’t used to having this much magic. He wielded it like a mallet, clumsy and blunt.

“There is nowhere you go,” said the Antari to her prince, “that I cannot follow.”