121
" Come here, little Cyra, and let me have a look at you,” Yma Zetsyvis said. “Not so little anymore, I suppose. How old are you?”
“I’ve sojourned ten times,” I said, using the traditional time reference--marking what I had survived rather than how long I had existed. Then I clarified, “I began early, though--I’ll be sixteen seasons in a few days.”
“Oh, to be young and think in days!” Yma laughed. “So, still a child, then, tall as you are.”
Yma had a gift for elegant insults. Calling me a child was one of her mildest ones, I was sure. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
125
" The invaders might come to Hessa,” Isae said. “Looking for me. We should leave as soon as possible and find Ori.”
“‘We’?” he said. “I’m not taking the chancellor of Thuvhe to Ryzek Noavek, not with my fate as it is. That would really make me a traitor.”
She eyed his marked arm. “If you aren’t already.”
“Oh, shut up,” he snapped. She raised her eyebrows, but he went on. “You think you know exactly how I’ll meet my fate? You think you know what it means, better than I do?”
“You claim to be loyal to Thuvhe, but you tell its chancellor to ‘shut up’?” There was a note of humor in her voice.
“No, I told the woman in my kitchen asking for one hell of a favor to shut up,” he said. “I would never disrespect my chancellor that way, Your Highness. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
126
" As he stood with his fingers in the iceflower bowls, he heard his mom and Cyra talking.
“My son was eager for me to meet you, I could tell,” his mom said. “You must be a good friend.”
“Um…yes,” Cyra said. “I think so, yes.”
You think so, Akos thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He’d given her clear enough labels, back in the stairwell, but she still couldn’t quite believe it. That was the problem with being so convinced of your own awfulness--you thought other people were lying when they didn’t agree with you.
“I have heard that you have a talent for death,” his mom said. At least Akos had warned Cyra about Sifa’s lack of charm.
He glanced at Cyra. She held her armored wrist against her gut.
“I suppose I do,” she said. “But I don’t have a passion for it.”
Vapor slipped from the nose of the water kettle, not yet thick enough for Akos to pour. Water had never boiled so slowly.
“You two have spent a lot of time together,” his mom said.
“Yes.”
“Are you to blame for his survival these past few seasons?”
“No,” Cyra said. “Your son survives because of his own will.”
His mom smiled. “You should defensive.”
“I don’t take credit for other people’s strength,” Cyra said. “Only my own.”
His mom’s smile got even bigger. “And a little cocky.”
“I’ve been called worse. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
127
" You chose the dim hope of a traitor’s restoration,” she said, low and quiet, “over the life of a chancellor’s sister.”
“If I had told Ryzek about the drug, we would have been trapped in that amphitheater with no leverage and no hope of escape, and he would have killed your sister anyway,” I said. “I chose the path that guaranteed our survival.”
“Bullshit.” Isae leaned close to my face. “You chose Akos. Don’t pretend it’s any different than it is.”
“Fine,” I said, just as quiet. “It was Akos or you. I chose him. And I don’t regret it.”
It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was certainly true. If simple hatred was what she craved, I would make it easier for her. I was used to being hated, especially by the Thuvhesit.
Isae nodded.
“Isae…,” Cisi began, but Isae was already walking away. She disappeared into the galley, closing the door behind her.
Cisi wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“I can’t believe this. Vas is dead, and Ryzek is alive,” Teka said.
Vas was dead? I looked at Akos, but he was avoiding my eyes.
“Give me a reason not to kill Ryzek right now, Noavek,” Teka said, turning to me. “And if that reason is something about Kereseth, I will hit you.”
“If you kill him, you won’t have my cooperation in whatever plan the renegades concoct next,” I said dully, without looking at her. “If you help me keep him alive, I’ll help you conquer Shotet.”
“Yeah? And what kind of help would you be, exactly?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Teka,” I snapped, finally breaking my spell to glare at her. “Yesterday the renegades were just squatting in a safe house in Voa, clueless, and now, because of me, you’re standing over the unconscious body of Ryzek Noavek with Voa in utter chaos behind you. I think that suggests my capacity to help the renegade cause is considerable, don’t you? "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
128
" Give me a reason not to kill Ryzek right now, Noavek,” Teka said, turning to me. “And if that reason is something about Kereseth, I will hit you.”
“If you kill him, you won’t have my cooperation in whatever plan the renegades concoct next,” I said dully, without looking at her. “If you help me keep him alive, I’ll help you conquer Shotet.”
“Yeah? And what kind of help would you be, exactly?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Teka,” I snapped, finally breaking my spell to glare at her. “Yesterday the renegades were just squatting in a safe house in Voa, clueless, and now, because of me, you’re standing over the unconscious body of Ryzek Noavek with Voa in utter chaos behind you. I think that suggests my capacity to help the renegade cause is considerable, don’t you? "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
134
" As they walked down the short tunnel that led to the front gate of Noavek manor, Eijeh had whispered, “I’m so scared.”
Their dad’s death and their kidnapping had cracked him open like an egg. He was even oozing, his eyes full of tears. The opposite had happened to Akos.
No one cracked Akos.
“I promised Dad I’d get you out of here,” he’d said to Eijeh. “So that’s what I’m going to do, understand? You’ll make it out. That’s a promise to you, this time.”
He’d put his arm over his older brother’s shoulders, pulled him tight to his side. They walked in together.
Now they were out, but they hadn’t walked out together. Akos had had to drag him. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
136
" As he stood with his fingers in the iceflower bowls, he heard his mom and Cyra talking.
“My son was eager for me to meet you, I could tell,” his mom said. “You must be a good friend.”
“Um…yes,” Cyra said. “I think so, yes.”
You think so, Akos thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He’d given her clear enough labels, back in the stairwell, but she still couldn’t quite believe it. That was the problem with being so convinced of your own awfulness--you thought other people were lying when they didn’t agree with you.
“I have heard that you have a talent for death,” his mom said. At least Akos had warned Cyra about Sifa’s lack of charm.
He glanced at Cyra. She held her armored wrist against her gut.
“I suppose I do,” she said. “But I don’t have a passion for it.”
Vapor slipped from the nose of the water kettle, not yet thick enough for Akos to pour. Water had never boiled so slowly.
“You two have spent a lot of time together,” his mom said.
“Yes.”
“Are you to blame for his survival these past few seasons?”
“No,” Cyra said. “Your son survives because of his own will.”
His mom smiled. “You should defensive.”
“I don’t take credit for other people’s strength,” Cyra said. “Only my own.”
His mom’s smile got even bigger. “And a little cocky.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
The vapor was thick enough. Akos grabbed the hook with the wooden handle that hung next to the stove, and attached it to the kettle. It caught, and locked in place as he poured water in each of the mugs. Isae came forward for one, standing on tiptoe so she could whisper in his ear.
“If it hasn’t already, it should be dawning on you right about now that your girl and your mother are very similar people,” she said. “I will pause as that irrefutable fact chills you to the core.”
Akos eyed her. “Was that humor, Chancellor?”
“On occasion, I have been known to make a humorous remark. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
139
" As he stood with his fingers in the iceflower bowls, he heard his mom and Cyra talking.
“My son was eager for me to meet you, I could tell,” his mom said. “You must be a good friend.”
“Um…yes,” Cyra said. “I think so, yes.”
You think so, Akos thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He’d given her clear enough labels, back in the stairwell, but she still couldn’t quite believe it. That was the problem with being so convinced of your own awfulness--you thought other people were lying when they didn’t agree with you.
“I have heard that you have a talent for death,” his mom said. At least Akos had warned Cyra about Sifa’s lack of charm. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
140
" There is a Shotet poem I like,” she said in clear Thuvhesit. He’d heard her speak just a few Thuvhesit words in all the time they’d spent together. That she spoke it now meant something--they were on equal footing, in a way they couldn’t have been before. She had just about died to make them that way.
He frowned as he chewed on that. What a person did when they were in pain said a lot about them. And Cyra, always in pain, had almost given her life to free him from Shotet prison. He would never forget it.
“The translation is difficult,” she continued. “But roughly, one of the lines reads, ‘The heavy heart knows that justice is done.’”
“Your accent is very good,” he said.
“I like the way the words feel.” She touched her throat. “It reminds me of you. "
― Veronica Roth , Carve the Mark (Carve the Mark, #1)
