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  • Eight years after Graceling, Bitterblue is queen of a kingdom that was under the spell of a madman for thirty-five years. At eighteen, Bitterblue is still learning.
  • Graceling (Graceling Realm #1). PART ONE: The Lady Killer CHAPTER ONE In these dungeons the darkness was complete, but Katsa had a map in her mind.

Graceling (Graceling Realm Series #1) by Kristin Cashore, Paperback. CHAPTER ONEIN THESE DUNGEONS the darkness was complete, but Katsa had a map in her mind. One that had so far proven correct, as Oll’s maps tended to do. Katsa ran her hand along the cold walls and counted doors and passageways as she went. Turning when it was time to turn; stopping finally before an opening that should contain a stairway leading down. She crouched and felt forward with her hands. There was a stone step, damp and slippery with moss, and another one below it.

This was Oll’s staircase, then. She only hoped that when he and Giddon followed her with their torches, they would see the moss slime, tread carefully, and not waken the dead by clattering headlong down the steps. Katsa slunk down the stairway. One left turn and two right turns. She began to hear voices as she entered a corridor where the darkness flickered orange with the light of a torch set in the wall.

Across from the torch was another corridor where, according to Oll, anywhere from two to ten guards should be standing watch before a certain cell at the passageway’s end. These guards were Katsa’s mission. It was for them that she had been sent first. Katsa crept toward the light and the sound of laughter. She could stop and listen, to get a better sense of how many she would face, but there was no time. She pulled her hood down low and swung around the corner.

She almost tripped over her first four victims, who were sitting on the floor across from each other, their backs against the wall, legs splayed, the air stinking with whatever strong drink they’d brought down here to pass the time of their watch. Katsa kicked and struck at temples and necks, and the four men lay slumped together on the floor before amazement had even registered in their eyes.

There was only one more guard, sitting before the cell bars at the end of the corridor. He scrambled to his feet and slid his sword from its sheath.

Katsa walked toward him, certain that the torch at her back hid her face, and particularly her eyes, from his sight. She measured his size, the way he moved, the steadiness of the arm that held the sword toward her. It’s clear enough what you are. He was brave, this one. He cut the air with his sword, in warning. She ducked under his blade and whirled her foot out, clipping his temple.

Kristin Cashore (born 1976) is an American fantasy writer. She grew up in the Pennsylvania countryside, the second of four children. Her debut novel, Graceling, was. Köp böcker av Kristin Cashore: De utvalda : hemligheternas rike; De utvalda : tankeläsaren; De utvalda: hemligheternas rike m.fl.

He dropped to the ground. She stepped over him and ran to the bars, squinting into the darkness of the cell.

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A shape huddled against the back wall, a person too tired or too cold to care about the fighting going on. Arms wrapped around legs, and head tucked between knees. He was shivering—she could hear his breath. She shifted, and the light glanced over his crouched form. His hair was white and cut close to his head. She saw the glimmer of gold in his ear.

Oll’s maps had served them well, for this man was a Lienid. He was the one they were looking for. She pulled on the door latch. Well, that was no surprise, and it wasn’t her problem. She whistled once, low, like an owl. She stretched the brave guard flat on his back and dropped one of her pills into his mouth. She ran up the corridor, turned the four unfortunates on their backs beside each other, and dropped a pill into each mouth.

Just as she was beginning to wonder if Oll and Giddon had lost themselves in the dungeons, they appeared around the corner and slipped past her. The Lienid man moaned and drew his arms in closer. Katsa caught a glimpse of his torn, stained clothing. She heard Giddon’s ring of lock picks clink against itself. She would have liked to have waited to see that they opened the door, but she was needed elsewhere. She tucked her packet of pills into her sleeve and ran. Stream As Good As It Getz online in english with english subtitles 4K 16:9.

THE CELL GUARDS reported to the dungeon guard, and the dungeon guard reported to the underguard. The underguard reported to the castle guard. The night guard, the king’s guard, the wall guard, and the garden guard also reported to the castle guard.

As soon as one guard noticed another’s absence, the alarm would be raised, and if Katsa and her men weren’t far enough away, all would be lost. They would be pursued, it would come to bloodshed; they would see her eyes, and she would be recognized. So she had to get them all, every guard. Oll had guessed there would be twenty.

Prince Raffin had made her thirty pills, just in case. Most of the guards gave her no trouble. If she could sneak up on them, or if they were crowded in small groups, they never knew what hit them. The castle guard was a bit more complicated, because five guards defended his office. She swirled through the lot of them, kicking and kneeing and hitting, and the castle guard jumped up from his guardhouse desk, burst through the door, and ran into the fray.

She grabbed his hair, dragged him onto his back, and dropped a pill onto his tongue. They would all say, when they woke to their headaches and their shame, that the culprit had been a Graceling boy, Graced with fighting, acting alone. They would assume she was a boy, because in her plain trousers and hood she looked like one, and because when people were attacked it never occurred to anyone that it might have been a girl. And none of them had caught a glimpse of Oll or Giddon: She had seen to that. No one would think of her. Whatever the Graceling Lady Katsa might be, she was not a criminal who lurked around dark courtyards at midnight, disguised. And besides, she was supposed to be en route east.

Graceling

Kristin Cashore’s best-selling, award-winning fantasy Graceling tells the story of the vulnerable yet strong Katsa, a smart, beautiful teenager who lives in a world.

Her uncle Randa, King of the Middluns, had seen her off just that morning, the whole city watching, with Captain Oll and Giddon, Randa’s underlord, escorting her. Only a day of very hard riding in the wrong direction could have brought her south to King Murgon’s court. Katsa ran through the courtyard, past flower beds, fountains, and marble statues of Murgon. It was quite a pleasant courtyard, really, for such an unpleasant king; it smelled of grass and rich soil, and the sweetness of dew- dripped flowers. She raced through Murgon’s apple orchard, a trail of drugged guards stretching out behind her. Drugged, not dead: an important distinction. Oll and Giddon, and most of the rest of the secret Council, had wanted her to kill them.

But at the meeting to plan this mission, she’d argued that killing them would gain no time. Heads in the dark room had nodded.

If you want them killed, you can send someone else. The perfect robbery, past all of Murgon’s guards, and nobody hurt? She wouldn’t kill, not if she didn’t have to. A killing couldn’t be undone, and she’d killed enough. King Randa thought her useful. When border ruffians were stirring up trouble, why send an army if you could send a single representative? It was much more economical. Watch online The Wendy Williams Show with subtitles in 4K.

But she’d killed for the Council, too, when it couldn’t be avoided. This time it could be avoided. At the far end of the orchard she came upon a guard who was old, as old, perhaps, as the Lienid. He stood in a grove of yearling trees, leaning on his sword, his back round and bent.

She snuck up behind him and paused. A tremor shook the hands that rested on the hilt of his blade. She didn’t think much of a king who didn’t retire his guards in comfort when they’d gotten too old to hold a sword steady. But if she left him, he would find the others she’d felled and raise the alarm.

She struck him once, hard, on the back of the head, and he slumped and let out a puff of air. She caught him and lowered him to the ground, as gently as she could, and then dropped a pill into his mouth. She took a moment to run her fingers along the lump forming on his skull. She hoped his head was strong. She had killed once by accident, a memory she held close to her consciousness.

It was how her Grace had announced its nature, a decade ago. She’d been a child, barely eight years old. A man who was some sort of distant cousin had visited the court. She hadn’t liked him—his heavy perfume, the way he leered at the girls who served him, the way his leer followed them around the room, the way he touched them when he thought no one was watching. When he’d started to pay Katsa some attention, she had grown wary. But you, lucky girl, look better for it. What is your Grace, my sweetness?

Some Graces took longer than others to surface. But even if she had known, she wouldn’t have cared to discuss it with this cousin. She’d scowled at the man and turned away.

But then his hand had slid toward her leg, and her hand had flown out and smashed him in the face. So hard and so fast that she’d pushed the bones of his nose into his brain. Ladies in the court had screamed; one had fainted.

When they’d lifted him from the pool of blood on the floor and he’d turned out to be dead, the court had grown silent, backed away. Frightened eyes—not just those of the ladies now, but those of the soldiers, the sworded underlords—all directed at her. It was fine to eat the meals of the king’s chef, who was Graced with cooking, or send their horses to the king’s Graced horse doctor. But a girl Graced with killing? This one was not safe.

Copyright . No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be submitted online at www. Permissions Department, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 6.

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How to Be a Book Worm: 1. Steps (with Pictures)1. Visit your local library often. The library is the heart of a true Bookworm's soul!

Spend your leisure time visiting the library and pick up some books that you find interesting or have been acclaimed online, on the grapevine or in book reviews. If you don't like the sound of the book, it doesn't matter! You can always buy or borrow a different one. Go take a seat and read the first couple pages. If you think it's the perfect book, check it out and go home. Ever heard the saying, ?

There are many online and retail book- stores, which hold mind- boggling selections of books. Scan through a couple, and buy ones you think are interesting. Sure, your friends might think this is pretty dumb, but if you love books, read them a lot without worrying about others' disapproval. In order for the book you chose to be a book you can snuggle up with you have to check these things over. Is the book in my preferred genre / style?

Is it too hard / easy? Do I like the first part of the chapter? After you check these things over and they're all answered positively you are now a bookworm with the book you've chosen (not that you should stop with just this book, of course). Find someone who loves books and literature as much as you do. Try making or joining a book club. Did you know that there are many online book clubs to join for free and make new friends and acquaintances? Try Shelfari, a social bibliophile website.

Say you read for half an hour in the morning, half in the afternoon, and half at night. Also read during your spare time. Start chapter books at about six or seven years of age.

They'll keep you busy if the first book is good. Reading shouldn't be a chore, it should be something you look forward to.

Read short version to know what is book about and then borrow it.