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438 pages, Hardcover
First published May 19, 2015
"You’ve been inexpressibly lucky,” he [The Dragon/Sarkan] said finally. “And inexpressibly mad, although in your case the two seem to be the same thing. No one has gone into the Wood as deep as you and come out whole: not since—” He halted, and I somehow knew without his saying her name that it was Jaga: that Jaga had walked in the Wood, and come out again.'
"Zokinen valisu, akenezh hinisu, kozhonen valisu.”
"Ulozishtus sovjenta, megiot kozhor, ulozishtus megiot,”
"The dirtiest thing in this tower is you," he said - true but unkind anyway.
"I do recall the girl neither horse-faced nor a slovenly mess."
"Then you needn't keep me!" I flared, angry and wounded - horse-faced stung.
'He was irritated with me every time I came into his library, even on the few days that I managed to keep myself in good order: as though I were coming to annoy and interrupt him, instead of him tormenting and using me. And when he had finished working his magic through me and left me crumpled on the floor, he would scowl down at me and call me useless'
"You intolerable lunatic,” he snarled at me, and then he caught my face between his hands and kissed me.
'He was on me in an instant, thrusting me flat down against my pillows. "So," he said, silkily, his hand pressed down upon my collarbone, pinning me easily to the bed . . . I was terrified . . . He shoved me hard against the bed and bent low.
"Don't dare lie to me!" he hissed. "I will tear the truth out of your throat-" his fingers were resting on my neck; his leg was on the bed, between mine.'
"The dirtiest thing in this tower is you," he said - true but unkind anyway.
"I do recall the girl neither horse-faced nor a slovenly mess."
'He was irritated with me every time I came into his library, even on the few days that I managed to keep myself in good order: as though I were coming to annoy and interrupt him, instead of him tormenting and using me. And when he had finished working his magic through me and left me crumpled on the floor, he would scowl down at me and call me useless'
"You intolerable lunatic,” he snarled at me, and then he caught my face between his hands and kissed me.
“They forget how to live here...[they] remember to be afraid,” my father said. That was all.Are you fucking kidding me? *seethes*
Then they took their dowry-silver and left. Mostly they would go to Kralia and go to the University. Often as not they married some city man, and otherwise they became scholars or shopkeepers.
He was irritated with me every time I came into his library, even on the few days that I managed to keep myself in good order: as though I were coming to annoy and interrupt him, instead of him tormenting and using me. And when he had finished working his magic through me and left me crumpled on the floor, he would scowl down at me and call me useless.Let's get one thing straight. I like assholes (sometimes), but they have to have character. For example, Dr. House. He is filled with snark. He is a jerk. He's oftentimes despicable, but there's a spark in him, a humanity in him that lets me love him and appreciate him no matter what despicable things that comes out of his mouth, because, under it all (and you seriously have to look deep), he is a human being with a good purpose, no matter how harsh his methods.
I whispered, “Kalikual.”Foreign words!!!! So magical!!!one!1
The power rushed out of me.
The Dragon didn’t always take the prettiest girl, but he always took the most special one, somehow.:| <- this is my surprised face.
At seventeen I was still a too-skinny colt of a girl with big feet and tangled dirt-brown hair, and my only gift, if you could call it that, was I would tear or stain or lose anything put on me between the hours of one day.You don't say!
My strength welled up through my body and fountained out of my mouth, and where it left me, a trembling in the air began and went curling down around my body in a spiraling path.Yeah, yeah. I've read this shit before, and I say no, thank you. I like my main characters average, thank you very much. I like my "Dragons" with humanity.
I had hated him, but I wouldn't have reproached him, any more than I would have reproached a bolt of lightning for striking my house. He wasn't a person . . .
She kissed me again and held me once more, and let me go. It did hurt more. It did.
I had forgotten hours and days by then. My arms ached, my back ached, my legs ached. My head ached worst of all, some part of me tethered back to the valley, stretched out of recognizable shape and trying to make sense of myself when I was so far from anything I knew. Even the mountains, my constants, had disappeared. Of course I'd known there were parts of the country with no mountains, but I'd imagined I would still see them somewhere in the distance, like the moon. But every time I looked behind me, they were smaller and smaller, until finally they disappeared with one final gasp of rolling hills.
"I'm glad," I said, with an effort, refusing to let my mouth close up with jealousy. It wasn't that I wanted a husband and a baby; I didn't, or rather, I only wanted them the way I wanted to live to a hundred someday, far off, never thinking about the particulars. But they meant life: she was living, and I wasn't.
...This one doesn't.
hmmmm...you are a tree, you have leaves. You grow branches...You are a tree...grow...grow...You are a tree and have leaves and branches...You are a tree...hmmm
I shut my eyes and felt out the shape of his magic: as full of thorns as his illusion, prickly and guarded. I started to murmur my own spell, but I found myself thinking not of roses but of water, and thirsty ground; building underneath his magic instead of trying to overlay it. I heard him draw a sharp breath, and the sharp edifice of his spell began grudgingly to let mine in. The rose between us put out long roots all over the table, and new branches began to grow.The last third of this book absolutely put me through the wringer. I felt like I'd been through a horrific war and fighting evil and corruption myself. It's not for the faint of heart, and the death and horror went on for long enough that I considered lowering my rating. It's truly difficult reading. But in the end, the book as a whole impressed me enough that I have to keep it at the full five stars. I give it a strong but qualified recommendation. It's not for young readers (even though it has a 17 year old protagonist; I'd say 17 is about the youngest age I'd consider recommending this book to, and only if quite mature) or for those who can't stomach reading about creepy evil things or gruesome wartime violence. It also helps if you like fantasies of the folk and fairy tale variety.