Leigh Bardugo - Shadow and Bone

The Darkling shook his head. “She’ll have the stag.”

Baghra scowled. “You’re a fool.”

“I’ve been called worse. Often by you.”

“This is folly. You must reconsider.”

The Darkling’s face went cold. “I must ? You don’t give me orders anymore, old woman. I know what has to be done.”

“I might surprise you,” I piped up. The Darkling and Baghra turned to stare at me. It was almost like they’d forgotten I was there. “Baghra’s right. I know I can do better. I can work harder.”

“You’ve been on the Shadow Fold, Alina. You know what we’re up against.”

I felt suddenly stubborn. “I know that I’m getting stronger every day. If you give me a chance—”

Again, the Darkling shook his head. “I can’t take that kind of a chance. Not with Ravka’s future at stake.”

“I understand,” I said numbly.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” I said. “Without Morozova’s stag, I’m pretty much useless.”

“Ah, so she’s not as stupid as she looks,” cackled Baghra.

“Leave us,” said the Darkling with surprising ferocity.

“We’ll all suffer for your pride, boy.”

“I won’t ask you again.”

Baghra gave him a disgusted glower, then turned on her heel and marched back up the path to her cottage.

When her door slammed shut, the Darkling regarded me in the lamplight. “You look well,” he said.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, my eyes sliding away. Maybe Genya could teach me to take a compliment.

“If you’re returning to the Little Palace, I’ll walk with you,” he said.

For a while, we strolled in silence along the lakeshore, past the deserted stone pavilions. Across the ice, I could see the lights of the school.

Finally, I had to ask. “Has there been any word? Of the stag?”

He pressed his lips together. “No,” he said. “My men think that the herd may have crossed into Fjerda.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

He stopped abruptly. “I don’t think you’re useless, Alina.”

“I know,” I said to the tops of my boots. “Not useless. Just not exactly useful.”

“No Grisha is powerful enough to face the Fold. Not even me.”

“I get it.”

“But you don’t like it.”

“Should I? If I can’t help you destroy the Fold, then what exactly am I good for? Midnight picnics? Keeping your feet warm in the winter?”

His mouth quirked up in a half smile. “Midnight picnics?”

I couldn’t smile back. “Botkin told me that Grisha steel is earned. It’s not that I’m not grateful for all of this. I am, truly. But I don’t feel like I’ve earned any of it.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Alina. I asked you to trust me and I haven’t delivered.”

He looked so weary that I felt instantly contrite. “It’s not that—”

“It’s true.” He took another deep breath and ran a hand over his neck. “Maybe Baghra’s right, as much as I hate to admit it.”

I cocked my head to one side. “You never seem fazed by anything. Why do you let her bother you so much?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I think she’s good for you.”

He started in surprise. “Why?”

“Because she’s the only one around here who isn’t scared of you or constantly trying to impress you.”

“Are you trying to impress me?”

“Of course,” I laughed.

“Do you always say exactly what you’re thinking?”

“Not even half the time.”

Then he laughed too, and I remembered how much I liked the sound. “Then I guess I should count myself lucky,” he said.

“What’s Baghra’s power, anyway?” I asked, the thought occurring to me for the first time. She was an amplifier like the Darkling, but he had his own power, too.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I think she was a Tidemaker. No one around here is old enough to remember.” He looked down at me. The cold air had put a flush in his cheeks, and the lamplight shone in his gray eyes. “Alina, if I tell you that I still believe we can find the stag, would you think I’m mad?”

“Why would you care what I think?”

He looked genuinely baffled. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I do.”

And then he kissed me.

It happened so suddenly that I barely had time to react. One moment, I was staring into his slate-colored eyes, and the next, his lips were pressed to mine. I felt that familiar sense of surety melt through me as my body sang with sudden heat and my heart jumped into a skittery dance. Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back. He looked as surprised as I felt.

“I didn’t mean… ,” he said.

At that moment, we heard footsteps and Ivan rounded the corner. He bowed to the Darkling and then to me, but I caught a little smirk playing on his lips.

“The Apparat is getting impatient,” he said.

“One of his less appealing traits,” replied the Darkling smoothly. The look of surprise had vanished from his face. He bowed to me, completely composed, and without another glance, he and Ivan left me standing in the snow.

I stood there for a long moment and then made my way back to the Little Palace in a daze. What just happened? I touched my fingers to my lips. Did the Darkling really just kiss me? I avoided the domed hall and went straight to my room, but once I was there, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I rang for a dinner tray and then sat picking at my food. I was desperate to talk to Genya, but she slept at the Grand Palace every night, and I didn’t have the courage to go try to find her. Finally, I gave up and decided to go down to the domed hall after all.

Marie and Nadia had returned from their sleighing excursion and were sitting by the fire, drinking tea. I was shocked to see Sergei sitting next to Marie, his arm looped through hers. Maybe there’s something in the air , I thought in amazement.

I sat sipping tea with them, asking about their day and their trip to the countryside, but I had trouble keeping my mind on the conversation. My thoughts kept wandering back to the feel of the Darkling’s lips on mine and the way he’d looked standing in the lamplight, his breath a white cloud in the cold night air, that stunned expression on his face.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so when Marie suggested going to the banya , I decided to join them. Ana Kuya had always told us that the banya was barbaric, an excuse for peasants to drink kvas and engage in wanton behavior. But I was beginning to realize that old Ana had been a bit of a snob.

I sat in the steam for as long as I could bear the heat and then plunged, squealing, into the snow with the others, before running back inside to do it all over again. I stayed until long past midnight, laughing and gasping, trying to clear my head.

When I stumbled back to my room, I fell into bed, my skin damp and pink, my hair in wet tangles. I felt flushed and boneless, but my mind was still whirring. I focused and summoned a warm wash of sunlight, making it dance in slivers across the painted ceiling, letting the sure rush of power soothe my nerves. Then the memory of the Darkling’s kiss blew through me and rattled my concentration, scattering my thoughts and making my heart swoop and dive like a bird borne aloft by uncertain currents.

The light shattered, leaving me in darkness.

AS WINTER DREW to a close, talk turned to the King and Queen’s fete at the Grand Palace. The Grisha Summoners were expected to put on a demonstration of their powers to entertain the nobles, and much time was spent discussing who would perform and what would make the most impressive showing.

“Just don’t call it ‘performing,’” Genya warned. “The Darkling can’t stand it. He thinks the winter fete is a giant waste of Grisha time.”