Indexing (Indexing, #1)

by Seanan McGuire

“Radon gas,” said Andy to a dewy-eyed reporter who looked like she had six brain cells to knock together, all of them devoted to keeping her from falling off her stiletto heels.

if something could be classed as vermin, she could control it. Given the most classic story attributed to her tale type, that said something unpleasant about how children were viewed in Europe during the Dark Ages.

“I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, Henry, but there’s no reality in this building for her to face. She’s barely even started down the rabbit hole.”

“Find a penny, pick it up, and all day long you’ll have good luck,” was one of Ms. Brooke’s favorite sayings. “It doesn’t have to be literal,” she had said. “Every good thing you find, no matter how small, is a penny for you to put in your pocket. Gather them close, and treasure them. Someday you’ll have a future where you feel rich enough, emotionally, to spend them freely.”

“I don’t hate you,” said Elise gently. “I just don’t like looking at you. You remind me too much of what could have happened to me.”

how many people can be truly defined by their original names in both childhood and maturity? A truly sensible culture would grant a person a new name with every decade of their life, until age and perspective allowed them to choose the name that would grace their tombstone—closed his door.

“She’s a hypocrite like the rest of us,” said Andy, reappearing with a shovel in his hands. I hadn’t even seen him go. “Once you come to accept that, everything else will make a lot more sense around here.”

“You can’t fucking fly, kid—the laws of physics are for everybody!”

“You’re the one who told me to fight my story by being more upbeat,” she said. “It seems to come with the awesome bonus of pissing you off. I’m going to be upbeat forever.”

“Sometimes I forget that you’re smarter than you act,” said Andy from his desk. “Really? Because sometimes I forget that you’re not asking me to break your nose,” said Sloane.

“She got a nosebleed,” said Sloane, reaching forward and taking my hand in hers. Her fingers left red stains on my skin. “Sure, I had to punch her four or five times to make that happen, but nosebleeds are a normal part of being a traitorous bitch who goes over to the dark side at the first sign of trouble.”

I glanced at Jeff, afraid of finding judgment or disapproval in his eyes. Not because it would change the way I felt about my brother, but because I liked Jeff, and it would be a shame to have to find a place to hide his body.