The Rithmatist (Rithmatist, #1)
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Read between February 23 - February 25, 2022
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“Never be sorry for what you are, son,” Harding said.
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“The unicorn is a very noble and majestic animal!”
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A bird whistled in the branches above him, and a small springwork crab puttered along on the green, clipping at patches of grass.
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“Not having ice cream,” she proclaimed, “is the culmination of all disasters!
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“It’s all cold,” she said. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you northerners have never experienced what it is to be really warm, so you accept a lesser substitute out of ignorance.”
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“Tantrums are a noble and time-tested strategy,” she said airily. “Particularly if you have a good set of lungs and are facing down a crotchety old priest.
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“Of course,” Melody said happily. “Didn’t you know that you exist to entertain me?”
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“It’s a fun tradition.” “So was witch-burning,” Melody said. “Unless you were the witch.”
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“Ha! We’ll turn you into a scholar yet, lad.
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There’s a lot more to all of it than I once thought.” Fitch smiled. “What?” Joel asked. “What you just said is the foundation of all scholarship.”
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“You will leave them alone!”
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Then he drew.
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Joel smiled, stilling his hands as he listened to the drawing all around him. He could almost believe himself a Rithmatist.
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He wore the sturdy, yet unremarkable clothing of a servant’s son.
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He watched, and felt his nervousness slowly bleed to pride.
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It became six on two. Even that should have been impossible odds. It wasn’t.
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Joel blinked. “What happened?” “We won, idiot,” Melody said.