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“Inside the carriage, Cardan slumps. I stare at him, at the blood drying in tide lines over his body and crusting in his curls like tiny garnets. I force myself to look out the window instead. 'How long have I-' he hesitates. 'Not even three days,' I tell him. 'Barely any time at all.' I do not mention how long it has seemed. Nor do I say how he might have been trapped as a serpent for all time, bridled and bound. Or dead.” — Holly Black
Inside the carriage, Cardan slumps. I stare at him, at the blood drying in tide lines over his body and crusting in his curls like tiny garnets. I force myself to look out the window instead.
'How long have I-' he hesitates.
'Not even three days,' I tell him. 'Barely any time at all.' I do not mention how long it has seemed.
Nor do I say how he might have been trapped as a serpent for all time, bridled and bound. Or dead.