Onward Ulla drove the song, weaving the two melodies together, sea and sky, water and blood. With a crack of lightning, the transformation took hold. Her hair rippled from her scalp, and in the mirror she saw it billowed and curled like dark smoke. Her skin was hard stone and bloomed with lichen, and when she looked down, she saw her thighs binding. But the scales that emerged were not silver, no, they were not scales at all. Her new tail was black and slick and muscular as an eel.
On and on the voices rose, and now Ulla thought she could hear the sea moaning, calling out to her. Home.
A great wave slammed against the side of the cliff with a tremendous boom. Another and another. The sea climbed with Ulla’s song. Water roared over the cliff and rushed into the palace, smashing the windows, pouring over the stairs. Ulla heard people screaming, a thousand mortal cries. The water reached her, embraced her, tore the glass from her hand. But it didn’t matter. This was blood magic, and the song had a life of its own.
The tempest that raged that night broke the land from the northernmost tip of Fjerda and formed the islands that the men of the land now call Kenst Hjerte, the broken heart. The sands turned black and the waters froze and never warmed again, so now all that exist there are whaling villages and the few brave souls who can bear such empty places. Söndermane, its treasures and its people, the Prophetic’s Tower and all the learning it contained, vanished into the sea.
The storm tore the palace of the sildroher kings from the seabed and wrecked the gardens Ulla and Signy had once built, leaving nothing behind. When at last the waters calmed and the sea folk found one another once again, Signy and Roffe and their silver lantern had survived it all. After an appropriate time had passed, he became king.
As it happens, Roffe did stay loyal to Signy. Perhaps he loved her all along. Perhaps she knew too many of his secrets. They were married and crowned beneath the ivory arches of a new palace, far smaller and humbler than before. Signy sang her vows, binding herself to Roffe forever. But after that, the new queen never sang again, not even a lullaby. The sea folk grew more cautious, more wary of disaster, more frightened of the shore, and in time, much of their music faded too. They lived long lives and kept few memories. They forgot old grievances.
Not so Ulla. She held each sorrow like a chafing grain of sand and grew her grudges like pearls. When Signy gave birth to daughters—six of them, the youngest born with her mother’s bright-ember hair—Ulla rejoiced. She knew they would be cursed as their father to long for what they shouldn’t, and cursed as their mother to give up what they most held dear in the hope for something more. She knew that they would find their way to her in time.
The storm had brought Ulla to the cold shelter of the northern islands, to the darkened caves and flat black pools where she remains to this day, waiting for the lonely, the ambitious, the clever, the frail, for all those willing to strike a bargain.
She never waits for long.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Sara Kipin’s illustrations grace nearly every page of this collection, and I am grateful for each bold brushstroke and surprising detail.
Many wonderful people at MCPG and Imprint worked tirelessly to bring this project to life—particularly my magical editor Erin Stein; Natalie Sousa and Ellen Duda, who gave this book its beautiful cover and guided the design of its interior art; my genius publicists Molly Ellis and Morgan Dubin; the relentlessly creative Kathryn Little; Raymond Ernesto Colón, who helped manage the complicated production process of a two-color printing; Caitlin Sweeny; Mariel Dawson; Lucy Del Priore; Tiara Kittrell; the entire Fierce Reads team; Kristin Dulaney; Allison Verost; and, of course, Jon Yaged, who keeps indulging me for some reason. Thanks also to Tor.com for publishing the three Ravkan tales that appear in this book and to Noa Wheeler who edited them so thoughtfully.
I somehow landed in the field of clover that is the New Leaf Literary family. Many thanks to Hilary Pecheone, who always finds a way to deliver on the impossible; Devin Ross; Pouya Shahbazian; Chris McEwen; Kathleen Ortiz; Mia Roman; Danielle Barthel; and, of course, Joanna Volpe, who nurtured the dream of this collection from the start.
Endless gratitude to my army of witches and queens who give generous feedback and ferocious support: Morgan Fahey, Robyn Kali Bacon, Rachael Martin, Sarah Mesle, and Michelle Chihara. Along with Dan Braun, Katie Philips, Liz Hamilton, Josh Kamensky, and Heather Joy Rosenberg, they also helped name this collection. That nice lady at the party helped too. I think she was a landscape architect. It was a team effort all around.
Sarah Jae-Jones advised on musical terminology. Susan Dennard educated me on marine biology and the existence of moon jellyfish. David Peterson helped me name my mermaids and my knives. Marie Lu, Sabaa Tahir, Alex Bracken, Gretchen McNeil, Jimmy Freeman, and Victoria Aveyard kept me laughing. Rainbow Rowell sustained me with joyful teas and sound advice. The Golden Patties kept me in glorious shade. Hafsah Faizal delivered elegant graphics in a snap, as did Kayte Ghaffar, who has been known to dabble in sorcery. Hedwig Aerts helped me sort Nachtspel revelry, and Josh Minuto puts up with texts that begin with things like, “Hi, how are you? I have a funny pain in my chest. Should I go to the hospital?”
As always, I want to thank my family: Emily, Ryan, Christine, and Sam; Lulu, who let me read whatever I liked so long as I was reading; and my grandfather, who never tired of telling me the story of the monster at the door.
And a special thank-you to my readers, who were willing to follow me into a thorny wood.
About the Author
Leigh Bardugo is a #1 New York Times–bestselling author of fantasy novels and the creator of the Grishaverse. With over one million copies sold, her Grishaverse spans the Shadow and Bone Trilogy, the Six of Crows Duology, and The Language of Thorns—with more to come. Her short stories can be found in multiple anthologies, including Some of the Best from Tor.com. Her other works include Wonder Woman: Warbringer and the forthcoming Ninth House. Leigh was born in Jerusalem, grew up in Los Angeles, graduated from Yale University, and has worked in advertising, journalism, and even makeup and special effects. These days, she lives and writes in Hollywood, where she can occasionally be heard singing with her band. You can sign up for author updates here.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Back in 2012 during the lead-up to the release of my first novel, my publisher asked if I would write a prequel story for Shadow and Bone. I was game, but the idea that came to me had little to do with the characters of that book. Instead, it was a tale that the characters might have heard when they were young, my own take on a story that had troubled me as a child—“Hansel and Gretel.”
My favorite version of that particular story was the creepily titled Nibble Nibble Mousekin by Joan Walsh Anglund, and it wasn’t the cannibal witch who bothered me. It wasn’t even the selfish stepmother. For me, the real villain was Hansel and Gretel’s father, a man so weak-willed, so cowardly, that he let his wicked wife send his children into the woods to die twice. Don’t go back, I would whisper as we approached the inevitable final illustration—happy father reunited with children, evil stepmother banished—and I was always left with a feeling of unease as I turned the last page.
In many ways, that unease has guided me through these stories, that note of trouble that I think many of us hear in familiar tales, because we know—even as children—that impossible tasks are an odd way to choose a spouse, that predators come in many guises, that a prince’s whims are often cruel. The more I listened to that note of warning, the more inspiration I found.
There were other influences, too. The horrible legends of Tarrare’s polyphagia found their way into Ayama’s first tale in far gentler form. The childhood trauma visited on me by The Velveteen Rabbit and the distressing idea that only love can make you real took a different shape in “The Soldier Prince.” As for my mermaids, while Hans Christian Andersen’s original tale served as a point of departure, it’s worth mentioning that Ulla is the Swedish diminutive of Ursula.
I hope you enjoy the
se stories and the world they populate. I hope you read them aloud when the weather turns cold. And when your chance comes, I hope you stir the pot.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Zemeni
AYAMA AND THE THORN WOOD
Ravkan
THE TOO-CLEVER FOX
THE WITCH OF DUVA
LITTLE KNIFE
Kerch
THE SOLDIER PRINCE
Fjerdan
WHEN WATER SANG FIRE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Copyright
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A part of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010
THE LANGUAGE OF THORNS. Copyright © 2017 by Leigh Bardugo.
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2017937768
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[email protected] “The Too-Clever Fox,” “The Witch of Duva,”
and “Little Knife” were previously published on Tor.com.
Book design by Natalie C. Sousa
Illustrations by Sara Kipin
Imprint logo designed by Amanda Spielman
First edition, 2017
ISBN 978-1-250-16708-8 (special edition)
ISBN 978-1-250-16709-5 (special edition)
ISBN 978-1-250-17392-8 (international edition)
eISBN 978-1-250-12253-7
fiercereads.com
In fairy tales, clever thieves are rewarded for their ingenuity, but purloin this book and be hounded forever by a gingerbread golem who will hide your keys and spoil all your dinner parties by talking about the boring dream she had last night.
Leigh Bardugo, The Language of Thorns: Midnight Tales and Dangerous Magic
(Series: # )
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