Leigh Bardugo - 0.01 The Demon in the Wood by Bardugo Leigh

Author:Bardugo, Leigh [Bardugo, Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

They spent the afternoon practicing by the stream while Sylvi made up songs and hunted frogs. Annika even helped Eryk with his Fjerdan. The thought that there might be more days like this seemed almost too wonderful to believe, and as it grew later, he worried over what his mother would say about what he’d done to Lev, that she would change her mind about staying. But when he got back to the hut at dusk, she wasn’t there.

He washed his hands and face of the day’s grime, then made his way to the long hall, where most of the camp were already gathered for dinner. They sat at tables that spanned the length of the lodge, eating from platters heaped with deer meat and roasted onions.

He saw his mother seated beside the Ulle at the elders’ table. They both acknowledged him with a nod.

Eryk scanned the stretch of tables and spotted Lev’s red-gold hair. His eyes narrowed when he met Eryk’s gaze. If Lev hadn’t told, it was only because he wanted to take revenge against Eryk personally. All he’d have to do was wait and set an ambush, restrain Eryk’s arms so he couldn’t summon. He probably wouldn’t even need his friends. Eryk could fight, but he was half a foot shorter than Lev.

“Eryk,” Annika called, waving him over as Sylvi bounced on the bench beside her. Maybe Eryk wasn’t such a bad name. It sounded all right when she said it.

They ate in silence for a while. The food of the north had never held much appeal for him, and he found himself moving the onions around his plate.

“You don’t like them?” Annika asked.

“They’re fine.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

He dragged his bread through the leavings of his meal. “I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” said Sylvi.

Eryk shrugged. No one had ever asked him. “Um … anything sweet.”

“Puddings?”

He nodded.

“Pies?”

He nodded again. There was a cake they served in Kerch, thick with cherries and served with sweet cream, and there were Shu candies coated in sesame that he could eat by the handful. But he wasn’t supposed to talk about the places he’d traveled. He was just a boy from the south. “I like everything,” he said.

“What’s your favorite color?” asked Sylvi.

“I don’t have one.”

“How can you not have one?”

Deep blue like the True Sea. Red like the roofs of the Shu temples. The pure, buttery color of sunlight—not really yellow or gold, what would you call it? All the colors you couldn’t see in the dark.

“I never really thought about it.”

“Mine’s rainbow,” said Sylvi.

“That’s not a color.”

“Is too.”

When Sylvi turned her attention to bothering the family beside them, Annika said, “You haven’t asked where our mother is.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“The drüskelle got her, the witchhunters. When we were still living near Overut.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Did your father die in battle?”

My father is dust. You all are. “Yes.”

Her eyes darted to a man with fair hair and bright blue eyes seated at the farthest end of the elders’ table. It was not a position of much esteem.

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