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“It’s two thousand, one hundred and twenty-nine years since Ptolemy died,” he said. “He was fourteen. Eight world empires have risen up and fallen away since that day, and I still carry his face. Who do you think’s the lucky one?” Kitty made no answer. At length she asked, “Why do you do it? Take on his shape, I mean.” “Because I promised myself,” the djinni said. “I’m showing him how he was. Before he changed.”
Before Nathaniel changed
With time and weariness, the troubles that beset him began to lose their clarity.
uneffusive.
But if you’re so worried about me revealing your childhood secrets, there’s a simple solution. Dismiss me for good! But no—you can’t bring yourself to do that, can you? In fact, I don’t think you actually want to break away from your past. That’s why you keep me around, no matter how weak I get.
But even after all these years, after what I did for you with Lovelace, with Duvall, with the Anarchist and the Oyster—” He winced. “Don’t mention that last one.”
Oh, Jenkins said there were seven of them because it was ‘one for each chair.’” Mandrake grunted. “The Council. There are seven of us. They plan rebellion.” “As usual.”
Celtic twilight
?
Our raid on the Ambassador Hotel was planned with military precision and the utmost care. Just ten minutes’ bickering in a phone box and we had the plan set straight.
Of all the rats, she was the most elegant and convincing. Ascobol had one eye, Hodge had a row of poison spines amongst his bristles, and Cormocodran, as always, looked more like a small, brick outhouse than anything else.
decorated in the Rococo style, with an original painting by Boucher;
anthropophagi.
stultifying
euphonium.
the infamous Battle of the Cataracts,
The architecture of the Earth is infinitely varied; it has given me much to think about.”
cochineal
meadow flax
Ornamentsl?
celandine.
I could just about cope with him. But then, when I rotated gloopily to check out the scene, who did I see next? Let’s just say that when your archenemy’s trapped you in a place of certain death, and you’ve survived heroically against all the odds, the last thing you want to see, when you escape at last, is that same archenemy glaring down at you with an expression of annoyed distaste.1 Not only that—you’re weak, look like a jellyfish, and smell of clam chowder. In such circumstances the wind kind of goes out of your sense of triumph.
His face, which normally showed all the weakness and soft emotion of a granite slab, was wide-eyed with shock.
There was a blur of movement, the sound of multiple blows being struck; it sounded like a brawl in a saucepan factory.
Maybe it was a vanity thing, but I was a bit tired of remaining as a pool of glop. With a tremendous effort, I drew myself up into a pyramid of slime. Was that any better? No. But I was too far gone to try anything sophisticated.
With all the verve of a wounded slug I squelched my way toward the golden chair, leaving an unpleasant trail behind.
Erin Holtz liked this
sarky
officious.
“These humans,” Mandrake said. “Describe them.” The baby sniffed. “Tricky…Could you individuate a tribe of rabbits?” It considered. “Several lacked chins, while others boasted several.” Kitty and Mandrake exchanged a glance. “It is the government.”
Nathaniel was quite calm. So black was the outlook now that fear had become redundant.
repletion.
gunge,”
cumbrous,
immanence.
viz.
utukku
gantry,
wendigo
stroppy.
Hoepo the Thunder Snake ingested his own tail and so swallowed himself rather than taste my fury!
Grotto
According to some,2 heroic deaths are admirable things. I’ve never been convinced by this argument, mainly because, no matter how cool, stylish, composed, unflappable, manly, or defiant you are, at the end of the day you’re also dead.
