Extraits

“Do you even remember how many people you've killed, Eliana?"

…

"Eighty-seven," she whispered as the gunshots continued. "Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine.”

“Dread,” he murmured, his breath caressing her cheek, “is only a feeling, easily squashed. But wolves, my dear, have teeth.”

“We live in a world where good kings die and those foolish enough to hope for something better are killed where they stand.”

“I fear no darkness

I fear no night

I ask the shadows

To aid my fight”

“You are so like her,” he muttered darkly.

“I am like myself,” she hissed, “and no one else.”

“They called her the Dread, not knowing that beneath the mask and cloak and painted-on smile, she was simply a girl. A girl with a heart that burned for blood.”

“The mountain falls under my fists

The sea dries at my touch

The flame dies on my tongue

The night howls with my anger

The light darkens in my shadow

The earth fades beneath my feet

I do not break or bend

I cannot be silenced

I am everywhere”

—The Wind Rite

“Navi,” Eliana whispered, fists clenched. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

Seek the light.

Fight a hopeless war.

Believe.

“My story is the same as all the others. Everyone I love has died; all my nightmares have come to life. Our world is lost, and so are we. There. Will that make a good story for your collection?”

“Lift your eyes to the eastern skies

Wait for the sun, and with it—rise

We will march down the roads gone black with the dead

We will tear down their walls and paint their crowns red”