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

door.
She closed it behind us, keeping hold of my wrist.
“What is this? Where are we going?”
“Quiet.”
Instead of turning right and heading towards the main staircase, she dragged
me in the opposite direction to the other end of the hall. She pressed a panel in
the wall, and a hidden door swung open. She gave me a shove. I didn’t have the
will to fight her, so I stumbled down the narrow spiral staircase. Every time I
looked back at her, she gave me another little push. When we reached the
bottom, Baghra stepped in front of me and led me along a cramped hallway with
bare stone floors and plain wooden walls. It looked almost naked compared to
the rest of the Little Palace, and I thought we might be in the servants’ quarters.
Baghra grabbed my wrist again and tugged me into a dark, empty chamber.
She lit a single candle, locked and bolted the door, then crossed the room and
reached up on her tiptoes to draw closed the curtain on the tiny basement
window. The room was sparsely furnished with a narrow bed, a simple chair and
a washbasin.
“Here,” she said, shoving a pile of clothes at me. “Put these on.”
“I’m too tired for lessons, Baghra.”
“No more lessons. You must leave this place. Tonight.”
I blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m trying to keep you from spending the rest of your life as a slave. Now get
changed.”
“Baghra, what’s going on? Why did you bring me down here?”
“We don’t have much time. The Darkling is close to finding Morozova’s herd.
Soon he will have the stag.”
“I know,” I said, thinking of Mal. My heart ached, but I also couldn’t resist
feeling a little smug. “I thought you didn’t believe in Morozova’s stag.”
She waved her arm as if brushing away my words. “That’s what I told him. I
hoped that he might give up the stag’s pursuit if he thought it was nothing but a
peasant tale. But once he has it, nothing will be able to stop him.”
I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Stop him from doing what?”
“Using the Fold as a weapon.”
“I see,” I said. “Does he also plan to build a summer home there?”
Baghra seized hold of my arm, “This isn’t a joke!”
There was a desperate, unfamiliar edge to her voice, and her grip on my arm
was nearly painful. What was wrong with her?
“Baghra, maybe we should go to the infirmary—”
“I’m not sick and I’m not insane,” she spat. “You must listen to me.”