More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
That which is closest, she cannot see. A strand fallen from the weave, cast adrift on winds of flame. A knife with two sides. Blood on the snow.
He was born a monster, he will die a monster, and monsters do not get to have friends.
Uncle Eron had once told her that when power was at play, lies grew thick as weeds and the liars beneath them flourished.
“How is it,” Stix asked, “that men always seem to claim victory over the triumphs earned by women?”
Actually, it was on cue, for when she glanced his way, she found the faintest smile brushing his tired lips.
A man is not his mind, he tried to tell himself. The first lesson every monk learned. A man is not his body. They are merely tools so that a man may fight onward.
Iseult supposed it was as simple as rejecting that which might reject us. It hurt less when you were the one to act first.
“Your … touch,” he said eventually, “is … too much.”
Bloodwitch, they whispered. A demon from the Void.
“You might lie to yourself,” she said at last, voice smooth as a scythe and twice as sharp. “But you cannot lie to me.”
Safi even recited the words used by Threadwitches to focus their magic: Bind and bend. Build and blossom. Family fills the heart.
With Iseult, Safi was brave. With Iseult, Safi was strong. And with Iseult, Safi was fearless. On her own, though, she was just a girl trapped in another country while unknown enemies tried to kill her.
Only two weeks ago, he had promised, Be the queen they need and soon a true crown will follow. But now Vivia saw he’d never meant those words. He had betrayed her. He had gone behind her back and stolen the power she had worked so hard to earn and worked so hard to use with wisdom and compassion.
