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Dan couldn’t hear his own thoughts over the THUMP-WUB-THUMP of the bass. If this was what hanging out with friends was like in college, he’d take a book, a chai latte, and a quiet corner in the library, thank you very much.
Perish the thought.
Silence gave the shadows and the darkness power. Silence meant he might be ambushed and taunted with his own name. The constant stream of inane chatter felt like a ward against that possibility, and even made him relax a little.
“I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count,”
To control the now is a simple thing, but to control the future? That is worth striving for.
Sanctum, a holy or sacred place—what could be more sacred than possessing the power of your own true thoughts? Sanctum. It is both lock and key.
Maudire claimed he stole it from a mad spinster’s grave, and the act of robbing a dead woman gave the gem its terrible power. A wild fantasy, I’m certain, meant to capture the imagination of a lonely little boy.
All he knew for certain was that looking at her made his fears and doubts feel less insurmountable.
You can’t do over what’s already been done, but you sure can undo it. Not easy, but you can undo it.
“I hope it can be reversed. Because as soon as we help the others, we’re going to do whatever it takes to reverse it on me.” “Wait, you think—” “I do think. And I’m ready to have my mind back to myself.”
“Incompetence is not the same thing as corruption,”
A steady thrumming pain grew at the base of Dan’s neck. It was concern, he knew, concern that was turning into a physical ache.
