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Boróka’s wolf cloak is a bleached ochre—a healer’s color.
a seer’s color.
“If girls can be wolves, can’t men be beasts?”
There are monsters, and then there are wolf-girls, and then there are wolf-girls with Yehuli blood.
“Sometimes sacrifice comes in the form of flesh.”
“So is it justice or mercy that you should bleed for your salvation?” “Mercy,” Gáspár says. His eye is black, holding none of the flame. “In all this time, He has never asked me for my life.”
We belong to each other.
But more than once, I catch Gáspár looking at me in a funny way, as if he has some sort of secret I don’t know.
Gáspár is braver and stronger willed than I have ever been.
telling me I belonged somewhere, even if it was the cold realm of the dead.
You know better than anyone. We’re the same now.”
to teach me what it meant to sacrifice.
the shape of our wounds is the same.
like a wolf after a white lamb.
“Will you only move to prevent injustice when no one is watching?”
“When something is no longer true, it is no longer real,”
“As long as the firstborn son lives.
And then he leans over and whispers the name of God in my ear.
I cut off my finger so that I could survive. Gáspár let his father take his eye so he would not cut his throat. And now Katalin must die, so that the rest of Keszi can live.
“I’m not as daft as you imagine me, Évike,” he says, but his tone is gentle. “I have Miklós and Ferenc switch off guarding my door while I sleep. I don’t eat anything unless I have procured it myself. When I must attend feasts, I let the wine touch my lips but I never swallow it. I know that I am what stands between Nándor and the crown, and that he will do anything to get his hands around my throat.”
just girls, and not wolf-girls.
