“You made a mistake, Rhy. Everybody makes them. Even royal princes. I’ve made many. It’s only fair that you make one.”
“I should have known better. I did know better,” he added, his voice cracking.
He tried to sit up, and winced. Kell urged him back down. “Why did you take it?” he asked when the prince was settled.
For once, Rhy would not meet his gaze. “Holland said it would bring me strength.”
Kell’s brow furrowed. “You are already strong.”
“Not like you. That is, I know I’ll never be like you. But I have no gift for magic, and it makes me feel weak. One day I’m going to be king. I wanted to be a strong king.”
“Magic does not make people strong, Rhy. Trust me. And you have something better. You have the people’s love.”
“It’s easy to be loved. I want to be respected, and I thought…” Rhy’s voice was barely a whisper. “I took the necklace. All that matters is that I took it.” Tears began to escape, running into his black curls. “And I could have ruined everything. I could have lost the crown before I ever wore it. I could have doomed my city to war or chaos or collapse.”
“What sons our parents have,” said Kell gently. “Between the two of us, we’ll tear the whole world down.”
Rhy let out a stifled sound between a laugh and a sob. “Will they ever forgive us?”
Kell mustered a smile. “I am no longer in chains. That speaks to progress.”
The king and queen had sent word across the city, by guard and scrying board alike, that Kell was innocent of all charges. But the eyes in the street still hung on him, wariness and fear and suspicion woven through the reverence. Maybe when Rhy was well again and could speak to his people directly, they would believe he was all right and that Kell had had no hand in the darkness that had fallen over the palace that night. Maybe, but Kell doubted it would ever be as simple as it had been before.
“I meant to tell you,” said Rhy. “Tieren came to visit. He brought some—”
He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Before either Rhy or Kell could answer, Lila stormed into the room. She was still wearing her new coat—patches sewn over the spots where it had been torn by bullet and blade and stone—but she’d been bathed at least, and a gold clasp held the hair out of her eyes. She still looked a bit like a starved bird, but she was clean and fed and mended.
“I don’t like the way the guards are looking at me,” she said before glancing up and seeing the prince’s gold eyes on her. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Then what did you mean to do?” challenged Kell.
Rhy held up his hand. “You are surely not an intrusion,” he said, pushing himself up in the bed. “Though I fear you’ve met me rather out of my usual state of grace. Do you have a name?”
“Delilah Bard,” she said. “We’ve met before. And you looked worse.”
Rhy laughed silently. “I apologize for anything I might have done. I was not myself.”
“I apologize for shooting you in the leg,” said Lila. “I was myself entirely.”
Rhy broke into his perfect smile.
“I like this one,” he said to Kell. “Can I borrow her?”
“You can try,” said Lila, raising a brow. “But you’ll be a prince without his fingers.”
Kell grimaced, but Rhy only laughed. The laughter quickly dissolved into wincing, and Kell reached out to steady his brother, even as the pain echoed in his own chest.
“Save your flirting for when you’re well,” he said.
Kell pushed to his feet and began to usher Lila out.
“Will I see more of you, Delilah Bard?” called the prince.
“Perhaps our paths will cross again.”
Rhy’s smile went crooked. “If I have any say in it, they will.”
Kell rolled his eyes but thought he caught Lila actually blushing as he guided her out and shut the door, leaving the prince to rest.
IV
“I could try and take you back,” Kell was saying. “To your London.”
He and Lila were walking along the river’s edge, past the evening market—where people’s eyes still hung too heavy and too long—and farther on toward the docks. The sun was sinking behind them, casting long shadows in front of them like paths.
Lila shook her head and pulled the silver watch from her pocket. “There’s nothing for me there,” she said, snapping the timepiece open and shut. “Not anymore.”
“You don’t belong here, either,” he said simply.
She shrugged. “I’ll find my way.” And then she tipped her chip up and looked him in the eyes. “Will you?”
The scar over his heart twinged dully, a ghost of pain, and he rubbed his shoulder. “I’ll try.” He dug a hand in the pocket of his coat—the black one with the silver buttons—and withdrew a small parcel. “I got you something.”
He handed it over and watched Lila undo the wrappings of the box, then slide the lid off. It fell open in her hand, revealing a small puzzle board and a handful of elements. “For practice,” he said. “Tieren says you’ve got some magic in you. Better find it.”
They paused on a bench, and he showed her how it worked, and she chided him for showing off, and then she put the box away and said thank you. It seemed to be a hard phrase for her to say, but she managed. They got to their feet, neither willing to walk away just yet, and Kell looked down at Delilah Bard, a cutthroat and a thief, a valiant partner and a strange, terrifying girl.
He would see her again. He knew he would. Magic bent the world. Pulled it into shape. There were fixed points. Most of the time those points were places. But sometimes, rarely, they were people. For someone who never stood still, Lila still felt like a pin in Kell’s world. One he was sure to snag on.
He didn’t know what to say, so he simply said, “Stay out of trouble.”
She flashed him a smile that said she wouldn’t, of course.
And then she tugged up her collar, shoved her hands into her pockets, and strolled away.
Kell watched her go.
She never once looked back.
* * *
Delilah Bard was finally free.
She thought of the map back in London—Grey London, her London, old London—the parchment she’d left in the cramped little room at the top of the stairs in the Stone’s Throw. The map to anywhere. Isn’t that what she had now?
Her bones sang with the promise of it.
Tieren had said there was something in her. Something untended. She didn’t know what shape it would take, but she was keen to find out. Whether it was the kind of magic that ran through Kell, or something different, something new, Lila knew one thing:
The world was hers.
The worlds were hers.
And she was going to take them all.
Her eyes wandered over the ships on the far side of the river, their gleaming sides and carved masts tall and sharp enough to pierce the low clouds. Flags and sails flapped in the breeze in reds and golds, but also greens and purples and blues.
Boats with royal banners, and boats without. Boats from other lands across other seas, from near and far, wide and away.
And there, tucked between them, she saw a proud, dark ship, with polished sides and a silver banner and sails the color of night, a black that hinted at blue when it caught the light just so.
That one, thought Lila with a smile.
That one’ll do.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We think of authors as solitary creatures hunched over work in cramped but empty rooms, and while it’s true that writing is a pursuit most often done alone, a book is the result not of one mind, or pair of hands, but of many. To thank every soul would be impossible, but there are some I cannot forget to mention. They are as much responsible for this book as I am.
To my editor, Miriam, my partner in crime, for loving Kell and Lila and Rhy as much as I do, and for helping me pave the foundation of this series with blood, shadow, and
stylish outfits. A great editor doesn’t have all the answers, but they ask the right questions, and you are a truly great editor.
To my agent, Holly, for being such a wonderful advocate of this strange little fantasy, even when I pitched it as pirates, thieves, sadist kings, and violent magic-y stuff. And to my film agent, Jon, for matching Holly’s passion stride for stride. No one could ask for better champions.
To my mother, for wandering the streets of London with me in Kell’s footsteps, and to my father, for taking me seriously when I said I was writing a book about cross-dressing thieves and magical men in fabulous coats. In fact, to both of my parents, for never scoffing when I said I wanted to be a writer.
To Lady Hawkins, for traipsing with me through the streets of Edinburgh, and to Edinburgh, for being its magical self. My bones belong to you.
To Patricia, for knowing this book as well as I do, and for always being willing and able eyes, no matter how rough the pages.
To Carla and Courtney, the best cheerleaders—and the best friends—a neurotic, caffeine-addicted author could ask for.
To the Nashville creative community—Ruta, David, Lauren, Sarah, Sharon, Rae Ann, Dawn, Paige, and so many others—who welcomed me home with love and charm and margaritas.
To Tor, and to Irene Gallo, Will Staehle, Leah Withers, Becky Yeager, Heather Saunders, and everyone else who has helped to make this book ready for the world.
And to my readers, both the loyal and the new, because without you, I’m just a girl talking to myself in public.
This is for you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
V. E. Schwab’s first adult novel, Vicious, debuted to critical praise and reader accolades. Schwab is the author of YA novels The Near Witch, The Archived, and The Unbound. She is also currently writing a middle-grade fantasy series with Scholastic. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Vicious
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
One: The Traveler
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Two: Red Royal
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Three: Grey Thief
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Four: White Throne
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Five: Black Stone
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Six: Thieves Meet
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Seven: The Follower
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Eight: An Arrangement
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Nine: Festival & Fire
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Ten: One White Rook
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Eleven: Masquerade
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Twelve: Sanctuary & Sacrifice
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Thirteen: The Waiting King
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Fourteen: The Final Door
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Tor Books by V. E. Schwab
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A DARKER SHADE OF MAGIC
Copyright © 2015 by Victoria Schwab
All rights reserved.
Edited by Miriam Weinberg
Cover design and art by Will Staehle
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
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New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to
[email protected] The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-0-7653-7645-9 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-5137-5 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781466851375
First Edition: February 2015
V. E. Schwab, A Darker Shade of Magic
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