The Deathless Girls by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

Author:Kiran Millwood Hargrave [Hargrave, Kiran Millwood]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781510105805
Publisher: Hachette Children's Group
Published: 2019-09-18T18:30:00+00:00

Malovski left. I heard a key scrape in the lock, and the sharp order of Malovski to a guard.

I wanted to take Kizzy’s hand and run, run until my feet bled and we were in the cool shadows of the forest, where things were killed quickly and kindly, and the world had an order without slaves and masters. But instead I helped my shaking sister to her feet, and, traitorously, wiped her wet cheeks dry.

‘I have to get out of here, Lil.’ Kizzy’s voice was a whisper, so small it could have been inside my own head. ‘I can’t do this, can’t live like this.’

‘You don’t have to do it like her,’ I said, searching for something comforting to say. ‘You could wring its neck first, or drown it outright.’

Kizzy’s eyes were sunk deep with sadness. ‘Better it takes me now.’

Her gaze drifted past the dead snake to the hissing pot, where its poor, doomed companion nestled inside.

I shook her, harder than I’d meant to. ‘Don’t think on it. You can’t, Kizzy. It wouldn’t kill you anyway. It would just hurt you.’

‘It would if I let it bite me here.’

She raised her hand to the base of her ear, the soft part beneath her lobe that twitched with her heartbeat. I imagined the snake’s fangs sinking into the dark skin, wondered if it would have enough venom for us both. Then I pushed the thought far away.

‘We have to survive this, Kizzy. Together.’

‘And you?’ Her eyes were suddenly blazing. ‘You can’t even sing for them.’

‘Then I won’t sing for them,’ I said, my anger rising to meet hers. ‘I’ll sing for you, and for Mamă, and for Kem. I’ll sing one of our songs, a Traveller song, and they will not be able to take anything from it. As for your snake—’

I pulled out the death cap, shrivelled now, and more potent for it. ‘We can kill it now. It will be quick.’

‘Where did you get that?’

‘The day we were taken,’ I said.

‘I told you to put it back.’

‘I didn’t listen.’

‘You didn’t give it to me,’ said Kizzy, her voice reproachful. ‘All those nights I said I wanted to die.’

‘You can’t die, Kizzy,’ I reached out to her. ‘I need you.’

‘We could poison the boyar,’ she said, eyes fixed on the death cap.

‘The boyar will die anyway,’ I said. ‘Did you see his neck? He has the disease. And we are not like them, Kizzy. We are not murderers.’

‘I could be.’

‘We could give this snake a clean death. A merciful one. It’s better than they deserve.’

Kizzy’s face softened slightly then, her newly thinned cheeks twitching in a sad smile. ‘You’re braver than you know, dragă.’

Dragă; darling. Like Mamă used to call us. She took the death cap and slipped it quickly inside the pot.

At that moment, the key scraped in the lock, and the door opened with a screech that set my teeth on edge. I stood straight, expecting Malovski – but instead a boy entered, carrying a clay pot.

His dark hair dipped into his eyes, obscuring his features, but his languid gait was unmistakable.

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