She cried like a person whose heart is broken and wondered how, when two people loved each other, there could be such a broken heart.

Brigan," she said, annoyed that he had not understood. "I’ll always be beautiful. Look at me. I have one hundred and sixty two bug bites, and has it made me any less beautiful? I’m missing two fingers and I have scars all over, but does anyone care? No! It just makes me more interesting! I’ll always be like this, stuck in this beautiful form, and you’ll have to deal with it." He seemed to sense that she expected a grave response, but for the moment, he was incapable. "I suppose it’s a burden I must bear," he said, grinning.

Fire supposed he needed to be there in order to give rousing speeches and lead the charge into the fray, or whatever is was commanders did in wartime. She resented his competence at something so tragic and senseless. She wished he, or somebody, would throw down his sword and say, 'Enough! This is a silly way to decide who's in charge!' And it seemed to her, as the beds in the healing room filled and emptied and filled, that these battles didn't leave much to be in charge of. The kingdom was already broken, and this war was tearing the broken pieces smaller.

He considered her seriously. "Well. And that's easy," he said. "My Grace will protect me from him, And I'll protect you. You'll be safe with me, Katsa.

What a horrifying notion," he said. "A creature with the power to take over one's mind.

If we knew a person was going to die, we'd hold harder to the memories." Fire corrected him, in a whisper. "The good memories.

Children are geniuses.