Shadow and Bone

Back Cover Blurb:

Surrounded by enemies, the once-great nation of Ravka has been torn in two by the Shadow Fold, a swath of near impenetrable darkness crawling with monsters who feast on human flesh. Now its fate may rest on the shoulders of one lonely refugee.

Alina Starkov has never been good at anything. But when her regiment is attacked on the Fold and her best friend is brutally injured, Alina reveals a dormant power that saves his life—a power that could be the key to setting her war-ravaged country free. Wrenched from everything she knows, Alina is whisked away to the royal court to be trained as a member of the Grisha, the magical elite led by the mysterious Darkling.

Yet nothing in this lavish world is what it seems. With darkness looming and an entire kingdom depending on her untamed power, Alina will have to confront the secrets of the Grisha . . . and the secrets of her heart.

What I loved about this book:

Unique plot and its twist. I don’t want to say too much, but this common plot with a young girl who doesn’t know she has any powers until a moment in time has a creative spin that I found to be well done, albeit dark. But hey–some of y’all like or don’t mind darker tales.

Rich world. Leigh really knows how to cast the vision of her world over the page, and I appreciate the Russian-reminiscent vibes this story has. The depth she’s put into the culture of this people is also quite lovely...and cold, lol.

What I didn’t care for in this book:

No real heart. I was talking to a dear friend about this story and it just…seemed to fall flat, at least to me. It was a dark tale with a happyish ending, but it didn’t thrill me to pieces at any point, really. The main characters and the mystery of what was happening kept me turning pages, but I was grateful for it to end. Personally, I didn’t relate to or connect with any of the three main characters to feel completely immersed, much less care about the next books in the series.

Worldbuilding that slowed down the plot and pacing. At the beginning of the middle, Bardugo really slows down the story to focus on Alina taking in all of her new surroundings and life. Like, focusing on the ornate carvings in the doors kind of slow-down. I turned up my nose a little and skimmed to the action. I get the struggle, though, as a writer. That darned sagging middle!

Excerpt: 

Inside the farm’s broken-down barn, the Darkling’s men had cleared a space on the earthen floor and built a fire. One of them had caught and killed a grouse and was roasting it over the flames. It made a poor meal shared among all of us, but the Darkling did not want to send his men ranging into the woods for game.

I took a place by the fire and ate my small portion in silence. When I’d finished, I hesitated for only a moment before wiping my fingers on my already filthy kefta. It was probably the nicest thing I’d ever worn or would wear, and something about seeing the fabric stained and torn made me feel particularly low.

In the light from the fire, I watched the oprichniki sitting side by side with the Grisha. Some of them had already drifted away from the fire to bed down for the night. Others had been posted to the first watch. The rest sat talking as the flames ebbed, passing a flask back and forth. The Darkling sat with them. I’d noticed that he had taken no more than his share of the grouse. And now he sat beside his soldiers on the cold ground, a man second in power only to the King.

He must have felt my gaze, because he turned to look at me, his granite eyes glimmering in the firelight. I flushed. To my dismay, he rose and came to sit beside me, offering me the flask. I hesitated and then took a sip, grimacing at the taste. I’d never liked kvas, but the teachers at Keramzin had drunk it like water. The beating we’d taken when we were caught had been nothing compared to how miserably sick we’d been.

Still, it burned going down, and the warmth was welcome. I took another sip and handed the flask back to him. “Thank you,” I said with a little cough.

He drank, staring into the fire, and then said, “All right. Ask me.”

I blinked at him, taken aback. I wasn’t sure where to begin. My tired mind had been brimming with questions, whirring in a state between panic and exhaustion and disbelief since we’d left Kribirsk. I wasn’t sure that I had the energy to form a thought, and when I opened my mouth, the question that came out surprised me.

“How old are you?”

He glanced at me, bemused. “I don’t know exactly.”

“How can you not know?”

THe Darkling shrugged. “How old are you exactly?”

I flashed him a sour look. I d idn’t know the date of my birth. All the orphans at Keramzin were given the Duke’s birthday in honor of our benefactor. “Well, then, roughly how old are you?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’ve heard stories about you since I was a child, but you don’t look much older than I am,” I said honestly.

“What kind of stories?”

“The usual kind,” I said with some annoyance. “If you don’t want to answer me, just say so.”

“I don’t want to answer you.”

“Oh.”

Then he sighed and said, “One hundred and twenty. Give or take.”

Pgs 108-110

Stars: 2 out of five.