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The doors behind Dima blew open, the storm demanding entry. A loud crack sounded as the gust knocked the creature from its clawed feet and hurled its winged body against the far wall. The wooden beams splintered with the force, and the thing slumped to the floor in a heap. A figure strode into the barn in a drab gray coat, a strange wind lifting her long black hair. The moon caught her features, and Dima cried harder, because she was too beautiful to be any ordinary person, and that meant she must be a Saint. He had died, and she had come to escort him to the bright lands.
She swatted the creature on its nose as if it were a misbehaving pet.
“You saw nothing tonight, understood? Hold your tongue or next time I won’t keep him on his leash.”
“The public may forget how handsome I am.” “I doubt it. Your face is on the money.”
The bridge that had so miraculously sprung up from nothing was not stone or brick or wooden beam. Its white girders and transoms were bone and tendon, its abutments and piers bound together with ropy bundles of gristle. Thump, thump, thump. They were traveling over a spine.
“Speak, Nazyalensky. When you purse your lips like that, you look like you’ve made love to a lemon.” “Lucky lemon,” Zoya said with a sniff.
She can lock you in at night and kiss you sweetly in the morning, and Ravka will be secure.” “Why do you never kiss me sweetly in the morning, Zoya?” “I do nothing sweetly, Your Highness.”
“Your pace is off again,” he barked at Nina. “It’s as if you’ve never gutted fish before.” Imagine that.
Adrik waved his hand, directing a warm gust of Squaller air over the documents. “It’s nice to be useful.” “I’m sure you’ll come in very handy when we need to fly kites.”
Here, for a short time, the demon that ruled his nights and troubled his dreams retreated, held at bay by logic, the hope of progress, and the happy pastime of building giant things meant to explode.
Nikolai set to opening the Schuyler combination locks he’d learned about from a certain master thief in Ketterdam.
EYO
“They’re testing the surface engines today,” he said. “And good morning to you, David.” “Is it morning?” “The sunrise was my first indication,”
