What do you think?
Rate this book
432 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 3, 2017
“You're the shield, and I'm the sword. Together, we'll forge a new world.”
“Today, I will live, because I am Catalia Fisa, and I do not break.”
“Harbinger of the end. Destroyer of realms. ”
“The minute you cease being afraid of yourself, there's nothing in this world that can stop you.”
“I will never leave you. Only death can tear us apart, and even then, I will wait for you at the edges of the Underworld until you come to me again.”
“Instinct takes over—the instinct to antagonize and defy anyone on a throne.”
“My eyes widen. Fantastic! No explanation necessary and two Gods on our side. I could dance a Fisan jig.
“You must make a worthy offering to the herd Alpha, Lycheron, to keep him from killing you on sight.”
Huh. Cancel the jig.”
“I did think. I thought ‘Hades isn’t an idiot. This is probably reversible.’ And guess what? It was.” Round one to Cat! Ha!”
“The minute you cease being afraid of yourself, there's nothing in this world that can stop you.”
“Foothold. Handhold. Repeat. I can do this. I am Titan. I am Olympian. I do not break. I do, however, run out of knives.”
“Good options don't exist. Only choices.”
“It’s time to be the person you were meant to be, Cat. You don’t just have to make decisions and stand by them now. You have to live with them.”
I blow gently into his nose. Panotii chuffs back. “You’ll be safe here, and if anyone tries to steal you, Grandpa Zeus will throw down a thunderbolt. Boom! No more horse thief.”
“Zeus may have better things to do than babysit our horses,” Flynn says, stowing his own equine gear next to mine.
I glance northward toward the Gods’ mountain home and speak loudly. “In that case, I’m announcing right now that I’ll make an Olympian stink if anything happens to my horse.”
Flynn looks nervous and moves away from me like he’s expecting a God Bolt to come thundering down.
"I shortened my name to Cat for a reason – as in Cataclysm."
⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱*It Went Downhill*⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱
"He's just frustrated because he's not using his sword."
I choke a little. Is that a metaphor again?
"We all know I'm the best swordsman around," Carver comments dryly.
I doubt that. My money is on Griffin - unless this really isn't a metaphor again. In actual sword-play, Carver just can't be beat.
“It’s not only about the sword. It’s about knowing how to use it,” Flynn remarks sagely.
“And where to stick it,” Kato adds, miming a slow, low stab.
Carver finally cracks a smile. He turns and leers at me, but it’s not as authentic as usual. “Show me your sword, Cat, and I’ll show you mine.”
Griffin’s eyes glint dangerously, which goes a long way toward restoring Carver’s usual good humor.
“You need the practice, Cat. We should cross swords,” Carver says.
I ignore him.
“Work on our parries and thrusts.”
I ignore him some more.
“There’s really only one good way to jab.”
I mash my lips together to keep from smiling.
“But there are a lot of ways to perform without actually getting poked.”
I burst out laughing.