“I had spared the stag's life. The power of that life belonged to me as surely as it belonged to the man who had taken it.”

“The stag had been showing me my strength-not just the price of mercy but the power it bestowed. And mercy was something the Darkling would never understand.”

“I thought the love I'd had for him belonged to the past, to the foolish, lonely girl I never wanted to be again. I'd tried to bury that girl and the love she'd felt, just as I'd tried to bury my power. But I wouldn't make that mistake again.”

“I'm not like you, Mal. I never really fit in the way that you did. I never belonged anywhere.""You belonged with me," he said quietly."No, Mal. Not really. Not for a long time.”

“Get moving. We need to find that stag so I don’t have to chop your head off.”“I never said you had to chop my head off,” I grumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and stumbling after him.“Run you through with a sword, then? Firing squad?”“I was thinking something quieter, like maybe a nice poison.”“All you said was that I had to kill you. You didn’t say how.”I stuck my tongue out at his back, but I was glad to see him so energized, and I suppose it was a good thing that he could joke about it all. At least, I hoped he was joking.”

“I told him the story of the day I'd been mending pottery with one of the maids in the kitchen at Keramzin, waiting for him to return from one of the hunting trips that had taken him from home more and more frequently. I'd been fifteen, standing at the counter, vainly trying to glue together the jagged pieces of a blue cup. When I saw him crossing the fields, I ran to the doorway and waved. He caught sight of me and broke into a jog.I had crossed the yard to him slowly, watching him draw closer, baffled by the way my heart was skittering around in my chest. Then he'd picked me up and swung me in a circle, and I'd clung to him, breathing in his sweet, familiar smell, shocked by how much I'd missed him. Dimly, I'd been aware that I still had a shard of that blue cup in my hand, that it was digging into my palm, but I didn't want to let go.When he finally set me down and ambled off into the kitchen to find his lunch, I had stood there, my palm dripping in blood, my head still spinning, knowing that everything had changed.Ana Kuya had scolded me for getting blood on the clean kitchen floor. She'd bandaged my hand and told me it would heal. But I knew it would just go on hurting.”

“You begged me for clemency once," he called over the dead reaches of the Fold, over the hungry shrieks of the horrors he had made. "Is this your idea of mercy?" Another bullet hit the sand, only inches from us. Yes, I thought as the power rose up inside me, the mercy you taught me.”