She drew the stiletto from... «Nevernight»
RamingoWS27 мая 2018She drew the stiletto from her belt. Proffered it on her forearm, head bowed. The blade was crafted of gravebone, gleaming white and hard as steel, its hilt carved like a crow in flight. Red amber eyes gleamed in the scarlet sunslight. "Keep it." The old man sniffed. "It`s yours again. You earned it. At last." She looked the knife over, this way and that. "Should I give it a name?" "You could, I suppose. But what`s the point?" "It`s this bit. "She touched the blade`s tip. "The part you stick them with." "O bravo. Mind you don`t cut yourself on a wit that sharp." "All great blades have names. It`s just how it`s done." "Bollocks." Mercurio took back the dagger, held it between them. "Naming your blade is the sort of faff reserved for heroes, girl. Men who have songs sung about them, histories spun for them, brats named after them. It`s the shadow road for you and me. And you dance it right, no one will ever know your name, let alone the pig-sticker in your belt. You`ll be a rumor. A whisper. The thought that wakes the bastard of this world sweating in the nevernight. The last thing you will ever be in this world, girl, is someone`s hero." Mercurio handed back the blade. "But you will be a girl heroes fear."
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