It always struck Fire, the physical affection between these siblings, who as often as not were at each other's throats over one thing or another. She liked the way the four of them shifted and changed shape, bumping and clanging against one another, sharpening each other's edges and then smoothing them down again, and somehow always finding the way to fit together.

I don't understand your book. Isn't every book a book of words?

There's no shame in crawling when one can't walk.

Katsa hugged her for a long time, and Bitterblue understood that this was always how it would be. Katsa would come and then Katsa would go. But the hug was real, and lasting, even though it would end. The coming was as real as the going, and the coming would always be a promise. It would have to be good enough.

In the end, Leck should have stuck to his lies. For it was the truth he almost told that killed him.

Garan snorted. "Now that we know about his indigestion, we can torture him with cake.

It's only water," she said. "Tell that to a drowning man," Giddon said.