More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Lila Bard lived by a simple rule: if a thing was worth having, it was worth taking.
The first thing about magic that you have to understand, Lila, is that it is not inanimate. It is alive. Alive in a different way than you or I, but still very much alive.”
“Death comes for everyone,” she said simply. “I’m not afraid of dying. But I am afraid of dying here.” She swept her hand over the room, the tavern, the city. “I’d rather die on an adventure than live standing still.”
“I’m not going to die,” she said. “Not till I’ve seen it.” “Seen what?” Her smile widened. “Everything.”
He smiled, and Lila smiled back, resisting the urge to break his nose.
And for the first time, Kell saw Lila. Not as she wanted to be, but as she was. A frightened, albeit clever, girl trying desperately to stay alive. One who had likely frozen and starved and fought—and almost certainly killed—to hold on to some semblance of a life, guarding it like a candle in a harsh wind.
Magic was a truly beautiful disease.
“Some people steal to stay alive, and some steal to feel alive. Simple as that.”
“How did you know?” she asked, looking down at the rubble of the queen. “How did you know she wasn’t me?” Kell managed an exhausted smile. “Because she said please.”
He would see her again. He knew he would. Magic bent the world. Pulled it into shape. There were fixed points. Most of the time those points were places. But sometimes, rarely, they were people.
For someone who never stood still, Lila still felt like a pin in Kell’s world. One he was sure to snag on.
