Shadow and Bone

“It will not stand,” blustered a Fjerdan.
The Darkling looked them over and said very calmly,
“Peace on my terms. Or your precious mountains and your
saintsforsaken tundra will simply cease to exist.”
With crushing certainty, I understood that he meant every
word. The ambassadors might hope it was an empty threat,
believe that there were limits to his hunger, but they would
learn soon enough. The Darkling would not hesitate. He would
not grieve. His darkness would consume the world, and he
would never waver.
The Darkling turned his back on their stunned and angry
expressions and addressed the Grisha and soldiers on the skiff.
“Tell the story of what you’ve seen today. Tell everyone that
the days of fear and uncertainty are over. The days of endless
fighting are over. Tell them that you saw a new age begin.”
A cheer went up from the crowd. I saw a few soldiers
muttering to each other. Even some of the Grisha looked
unnerved. But most of their faces were eager, triumphant,
shining.
They’re hungry for this, I realized. Even after they’ve seen
what he can do, even after watching their own people die. The
Darkling wasn’t just offering them an end to war, but an end to
weakness. After all these long years of terror and suffering, he
would give them something that had seemed permanently
beyond their grasp: victory. And despite their fear, they loved
him for it.
The Darkling signaled to Ivan, who stood behind him,
waiting for orders. “Bring me the prisoner.”
I looked up sharply, a fresh bolt of fear shooting through me
as Mal was led through the crowd to the railing, his hands
bound.
“We return to Ravka,” said the Darkling. “But the traitor
stays.”
Before I even knew what was happening, Ivan shoved Mal
over the edge of the skiff. The volcra screeched and beat their
wings. I ran to the railing. Mal was on his side in the sand, still