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

by V.E. Schwab

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

High Royal, what Lila Bard called English,

As he walked, he turned over Ciara’s words, wearing them smooth.

Only a fool would try to rob the floating market. But she’d been alive long enough to know the

world was full of fools.

“Not everything is a trap.”

city carved in and out of ice.

cool

Lila’s face lit up, the way it had that first day in Red London,

“Antari magic,” continued Maris, “is the place where spell and element meet.

Lila muttered a quiet “Fuck.” “Ever the poet,” said the captain

nice retort when someone swears

pleasure never seemed to carry half as well as pain.

Kell was eating dinner when he began to die.

On the day that Rhy Maresh married Nadiya Loreni, Alucard Emery got very drunk.

how badly he wanted to be that Kell again. To have that life back. But it was gone.

the moon was a white hangnail in the sky,

“Who was he?” “His name,” said the Vir, “was Holland Vosijk.”

“In the wrong hands a paring knife can end a man’s life. Shall we ban them from the kitchen?”

Seven years, and the casual magic of this world still took her by surprise.

Family. The word scratched at Lila’s skin like rough wool.

Family was a chosen thing.

looking like a family was more important than being one.

Blood was a valuable thing. It anchored spells and strengthened curses.

“Black London is the source of all magic,” he said. “It is a wellspring. But every drop comes at a cost.”