Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo (z-lib.org).mobi
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Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo (z-lib.org).mobi

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07.07.2021 Views

At first, I’d been frightened every time I got ready to call the light, afraid that itjust wouldn’t be there and I’d be back to where I’d started.“It isn’t something separate from you,” Baghra snapped. “It isn’t an animalthat shies away from you or chooses whether or not to come when you call it. Doyou ask your heart to beat or your lungs to breathe? Your power serves youbecause that is its purpose, because it cannot help but serve you.”Sometimes I felt as if there was a shadow in Baghra’s words, a secondmeaning she wanted me to understand. But the work I was doing was hardenough without guessing at the secrets of a bitter old woman.She drove me hard, pushing me to expand my reach and my control. Shetaught me to focus my power in short bright bursts, piercing beams that burnedwith heat, and long sustained cascades. She forced me to call the light again, andagain, and again, until I barely had to reach for it. She made me trek to hercottage at night to practise when it was nearly impossible for me to find any lightto summon. When I finally, proudly, produced a weak thread of sunlight, sheslammed her cane down on the ground and shouted, “Not good enough!”“I’m doing my best,” I muttered in exasperation.“Pah!” she spat. “Do you think the world cares if you do your best? Do itagain and do it right.”My lessons with Botkin were the real surprise. As a little girl, I had run andplayed with Mal in the woods and fields, but I’d never been able to keep up withhim. I’d always been too sickly and frail, too easy to tire. But as I ate and sleptregularly for the first time in my life, all of that changed. Botkin put me throughbrutal combat drills and seemingly endless runs through the palace grounds, butI found myself enjoying some of the challenges. I liked learning what this new,stronger body could do.I doubted I’d ever be able to outspar the old mercenary, but the Fabrikatorshad helped even the field. They’d produced a pair of fingerless leather gloves forme that were lined with little mirrors – the mysterious glass discs David hadshown me on that first day in the workshops. With a flick of the wrist, I couldslide a mirror between my fingers and, with Botkin’s permission, I practisedbouncing flashes of light off them and into my opponent’s eyes. I worked withthem until they felt almost natural in my hands, like extensions of my ownfingers.Botkin remained gruff and critical, and took every opportunity to call meuseless, but once in a while I thought I glimpsed a hint of approval on hisweathered features.Late in winter, he took me aside after a long lesson in which I’d actuallymanaged to land a blow to his ribs (and been thanked for it with a hard cuff

across my jaw).“Here,” he said, handing me a heavy knife in a steel and leather sheath.“Always keep with you.”With a jolt, I saw that it was no ordinary knife. It was Grisha steel. “Thankyou,” I managed.“Not ‘thank you’,” he said. He tapped the ugly scar at his throat. “Steel isearned.”Winter looked different to me than it ever had before. I spent sunny afternoonsskating on the lake or sledding on the palace grounds with the other Summoners.Snowy evenings were passed in the domed hall, gathered around the tile ovens,drinking kvas and gorging ourselves on sweets. We celebrated the feast of SanktNikolai with huge bowls of dumpling soup and kutya made with honey andpoppy seeds. Some of the other Grisha left the palace to go on sleigh rides anddogsledding excursions in the snow-blanketed countryside surrounding Os Alta,but for security reasons, I was still confined to the palace grounds.I didn’t mind. I felt more comfortable with the Summoners now, but I doubtedI’d ever really enjoy being around Marie and Nadia. I was much happier sittingin my room with Genya, drinking tea and gossiping by the fire. I loved to hearall the court gossip, and even better were the tales of the opulent parties at theGrand Palace. My favourite was the story of the massive pie that a count hadpresented to the King, and the dwarf who had burst out of it to hand the tsaritsaa bouquet of forget-me-nots.At the end of the season, the King and the Queen would host a final winterfete attended by all the Grisha. Genya claimed it would be the most lavish partyof all. Every noble family and high court officer would be there, along withmilitary heroes, foreign dignitaries, and the tsarevitch, the King’s eldest son andheir to the throne. I’d once seen the Crown Prince riding around the palacegrounds on a white gelding that was roughly the size of a house. He was almosthandsome, but he had the King’s weak chin and eyes so heavy-lidded that it washard to tell if he was tired or just supremely bored.“Probably drunk,” said Genya, stirring her tea. “He devotes all of his time tohunting, horses and imbibing. Drives the Queen mad.”“Well, Ravka is at war. He should probably be more concerned with mattersof state.”“Oh she doesn’t care about that. She just wants him to find a bride instead ofgallivanting around the world spending mounds of gold buying up ponies.”“What about the other one?” I asked. I knew the King and Queen had ayounger son, but I’d never actually seen him.“Sobachka?”

across my jaw).

“Here,” he said, handing me a heavy knife in a steel and leather sheath.

“Always keep with you.”

With a jolt, I saw that it was no ordinary knife. It was Grisha steel. “Thank

you,” I managed.

“Not ‘thank you’,” he said. He tapped the ugly scar at his throat. “Steel is

earned.”

Winter looked different to me than it ever had before. I spent sunny afternoons

skating on the lake or sledding on the palace grounds with the other Summoners.

Snowy evenings were passed in the domed hall, gathered around the tile ovens,

drinking kvas and gorging ourselves on sweets. We celebrated the feast of Sankt

Nikolai with huge bowls of dumpling soup and kutya made with honey and

poppy seeds. Some of the other Grisha left the palace to go on sleigh rides and

dogsledding excursions in the snow-blanketed countryside surrounding Os Alta,

but for security reasons, I was still confined to the palace grounds.

I didn’t mind. I felt more comfortable with the Summoners now, but I doubted

I’d ever really enjoy being around Marie and Nadia. I was much happier sitting

in my room with Genya, drinking tea and gossiping by the fire. I loved to hear

all the court gossip, and even better were the tales of the opulent parties at the

Grand Palace. My favourite was the story of the massive pie that a count had

presented to the King, and the dwarf who had burst out of it to hand the tsaritsa

a bouquet of forget-me-nots.

At the end of the season, the King and the Queen would host a final winter

fete attended by all the Grisha. Genya claimed it would be the most lavish party

of all. Every noble family and high court officer would be there, along with

military heroes, foreign dignitaries, and the tsarevitch, the King’s eldest son and

heir to the throne. I’d once seen the Crown Prince riding around the palace

grounds on a white gelding that was roughly the size of a house. He was almost

handsome, but he had the King’s weak chin and eyes so heavy-lidded that it was

hard to tell if he was tired or just supremely bored.

“Probably drunk,” said Genya, stirring her tea. “He devotes all of his time to

hunting, horses and imbibing. Drives the Queen mad.”

“Well, Ravka is at war. He should probably be more concerned with matters

of state.”

“Oh she doesn’t care about that. She just wants him to find a bride instead of

gallivanting around the world spending mounds of gold buying up ponies.”

“What about the other one?” I asked. I knew the King and Queen had a

younger son, but I’d never actually seen him.

“Sobachka?”

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