Shadow and Bone

“Do you?”
“Yes,” I said. “Without Morozova’s stag, I’m pretty much
useless.”
“Ah, so she’s not as stupid as she looks,” cackled Baghra.
“Leave us,” said the Darkling with surprising ferocity.
“We’ll all suffer for your pride, boy.”
“I won’t ask you again.”
Baghra gave him a disgusted glower, then turned on her
heel and marched back up the path to her cottage.
When her door slammed shut, the Darkling regarded me in
the lamplight. “You look well,” he said.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, my eyes sliding away. Maybe Genya
could teach me to take a compliment.
“If you’re returning to the Little Palace, I’ll walk with you,”
he said.
For a while, we strolled in silence along the lakeshore, past
the deserted stone pavilions. Across the ice, I could see the
lights of the school.
Finally, I had to ask. “Has there been any word? Of the
stag?”
He pressed his lips together. “No,” he said. “My men think
that the herd may have crossed into Fjerda.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my disappointment.
He stopped abruptly. “I don’t think you’re useless, Alina.”
“I know,” I said to the tops of my boots. “Not useless. Just
not exactly useful.”
“No Grisha is powerful enough to face the Fold. Not even
me.”
“I get it.”
“But you don’t like it.”
“Should I? If I can’t help you destroy the Fold, then what
exactly am I good for? Midnight picnics? Keeping your feet