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

by V.E. Schwab

It was ridiculous. Unfounded. A battle cry for the discontent, an excuse to cause chaos and call it change. But there were people—bitter, angry, powerless people—who were beginning to listen.

He thought of Olik, the hero who walked right onto enemy ships, and made himself at home. Olik, who had put his fear in a metal box, and sunk it in the sea.

The entrance to the Ferase Stras was a threshold, and all good thresholds demanded a price.

“What does it do?” He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud, not until the faces turned. “If you don’t know,” said Valick, “then it isn’t meant for you.”

Annoyance bloomed into anger, and anger was powerful.

A magician could only manipulate what they could hold.

It was the kind of place that fostered grudges, and turned them into bad ideas.

people are fools. Showing them your power is like showing them your hand at cards. Make them guess at it instead, and they’ll almost always guess wrong.”

In short, they were afraid of him. They were afraid of Lila, too, of course. But it was different. They were afraid of what she could do. They were afraid of what Kell was.

Words had two kinds of power—the first in their meaning, the second in how they were said.

sometimes a thing didn’t need to be said to be heard, loud and clear, in someone’s posture, their expression, their gaze.

“All kings are terrible, to those looking for someone to blame.”

“We are a moment, Your Majesty. And moments pass.”

“Who is to say what is truth, and what is superstition? We choose the stories that bring us comfort. Believe what you want.”

a thing taken by force would always be a pale shadow of something given freely.

“Perhaps you are afraid,” Kosika went on. “Perhaps you don’t want to believe that magic has a will, that it is choosing, because that would mean it isn’t choosing you.”

“If you punished every soul who bent their head as evil passed, there would be no one left to follow you. But there is a difference between fear and devotion.”

But good coin spent in every quarter, and Alucard had supplied a bag of it in the hopes that bribery would do what civic duty wouldn’t.

His brother’s smile slid, becoming a feral, humorless grin. “Come into this cell and face me. Let’s see how strong you are with nothing but your fists.” “Tempting, but I’ll pass.” He turned, and started for the stairs. “How dare you turn your back on me, little brother.” Alucard stopped. “Oh, I’ll come back,” he said. “It’s not like you’re going anywhere. But I have places to be. My husband is waiting for me. My daughter, too.” He looked up at the ceiling. Through it. “You see, it’s dinnertime. I want to know which animal Ren has tried to sneak under the table. She’s been very into rabbits lately, but really, there’s not a single living thing she does not love. She’s like Anisa that way.” He swallowed, their little sister’s name scraping his throat. “Before bed, she’ll need a bath, which is always an adventure, and Rhy and I will read her a story, and the queen will shine a lantern into every corner of her room, to show her that every shadow is nothing but a lack of light. You see why I must leave you? There is so much love up there.” His eyes fell back to his brother. “I sometimes wonder if you would have been so hateful, had we lived in a kinder house.” He shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now.”