Лэйни Тейлор - Days of Blood & Starlight

He is looking back at her.

As ever when their eyes meet, it is like a lit fuse searing a path through the air between them. These past days, when this has happened, one or the other would turn quickly away, but this time they rest and let the fuse burn. They are filled with the sight of each other. Here in this cavern, this extraordinary gathering—this seethe of colliding hatreds, tamed temporarily by a shared hate—could be their long-ago dream seen through a warped mirror. This is not how it was meant to be. They are not side by side as they once imagined. They are not exultant, and they no longer feel themselves to be the instruments of some great intention. They are creatures grasping at life with stained hands. There is so much between them, all the living and all the dead, but for a moment everything falls away and the fuse burns brighter and nearer, so that Karou and Akiva almost feel as if they are touching.

Tomorrow they will start the apocalypse.

Tonight, they let themselves look at each other, for just a little while.

Whew.

It always comes as a relief to get to this page, because it means I have finished a book—a thing that gets easier in some ways over time, but not in all ways. Every story is its own challenge, and in the middle I find myself relying on the quote “It always seems impossible until it is done.” Because it does. (I didn’t know who said that until just this moment when I googled it, and now that I know it was Nelson Mandela, finishing a novel doesn’t seem like such a big accomplishment after all. Thanks a lot, Nelson Mandela.)

Ha. But truly, it is an accomplishment, and I owe deep thanks to some wonderful people:

First and best, my husband, Jim Di Bartolo, who is not only my earliest and most crucial reader, but also my fort holder-downer and slack picker-upper when I am struggling to balance writing with life. My books would not be what they are without you, and neither would my life, which I would not trade for any other life, real or fictional, not for anything. Thank you for the happy!

Clementine, age two, who, when I left in the mornings to write, would call after me, “Say hi to Karou!” Look, my little Pie, I finished the ham! Very soon, I would like to write a book for you.

Always, my parents, for everything they’ve always done to help me be me. I am so lucky to have you.

My agent, Jane Putch, friend and partner. I truly would be lost without you. Thank you.

With my arms flung as wide as they will go, a huge thanks to the amazing teams at Little, Brown Books for Young Readers in the U.S. and Hodder & Stoughton in the U.K. for parallel amazing publishing experiences that make this all twice as much fun. At Little, Brown, thanks especially to Alvina Ling, editor extraordinaire; Lisa Moraleda, Bethany Strout; Victoria Stapleton; Melanie Chang; Andrew Smith; Megan Tingley; Stephanie O’Cain; Faye Bi; the design team; and everyone else who squeezed the publishing schedule to within an inch of its life to accommodate my pace and get the book out on time (ish). I’m sorry for any stress I have caused. Thanks also to Amy Habayeb and the rights team—getting the foreign editions in the mail is one of my favorite things!

At Hodder, massive thanks to Kate Howard and Eleni Lawrence and the rest of the team. Everything you do blows me away.

And thanks, lastly, to the readers of Daughter of Smoke & Bone for such marvelous enthusiasm and support. There is no motivation quite like the excitement of readers, and it has been a truly amazing year. From the depths of my heart, I hope you like this one, too.