Shadow and Bone

Genya returned, and I wrote out Mal’s name, regiment, and
unit number. She folded the paper and slipped it into the sleeve
of her kefta.
“Thanks,” I said hoarsely.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” she said, and gave my hand a gentle
squeeze. “Now lie back so I can fix those dark circles.”
“Genya!”
“Lie back or you can forget about your little favor.”
My jaw dropped. “You are rotten.”
“I am marvelous.”
I glared at her, then flopped back against the pillows.
After Genya left, I made arrangements to return to my own
quarters. The Healer wasn’t happy about it, but I insisted. I
was barely even sore anymore, and there was no way I was
spending another night in that empty infirmary.
When I got back to my room, I took a bath and tried to read
one of my theory books. I couldn’t concentrate. I was dreading
returning to my classes the next day, dreading another futile
lesson with Baghra.
The stares and gossip about me had died down a bit since I
arrived at the Little Palace. But I had no doubt that my fight
with Zoya would bring that all back.
As I rose and stretched, I caught a glimpse of myself in the
mirror above my dressing table. I crossed the room and
scrutinized my face in the glass.
The dark shadows beneath my eyes were gone, but I knew
they would be back in a few days. And it made little
difference. I looked the way I always had: tired, scrawny, sick.
Nothing like a real Grisha. The power was there, somewhere
inside me, but I couldn’t reach it, and I didn’t know why. Why
was I different? Why had it taken so long for my power to
reveal itself? And why couldn’t I access it on my own?
Reflected in the mirror I could see the thick golden curtains
at the windows, the brilliantly painted walls, the firelight