Somewhere Beyond the Sea (Cerulean Chronicles, #2)

by T.J. Klune

“All I can do is tell you that things will be different this time around. I will give the children what I never had: a place to be whoever they want to be, no matter what they can do or where they come from.”

“But I believe the greatest weapon we have at our disposal is our voices. And I am going to use my voice for you, and for me. Hate is loud. We are louder.”

You want me lost, but I am found in the breaths I take, in the spaces between heartbeats. I am found because I refuse to be in black and white, or any shade of gray. I am color. I am fire. I am the sun, and I will burn away the shadows until only light remains. And then you will have no choice but to see me.

“Let them listen to what joy sounds like. Maybe they’ll learn a thing or two.”

“When we live in fear, it controls us. Every decision we make is smothered by it.

Arthur, too, wore a suit. His coat and trousers were navy blue, his dress shirt covered in blooms that reminded him of Talia’s garden. The top plastic button at his throat had been replaced by a brass one, sewn on with care. His tie was a wonderful shade of green, not unlike a certain bellhop. His shortened trousers revealed gray socks with little fluffy Pomeranians on them. Pinned to his shirt, a small gold leaf plucked from a tree on the island grown by a forest sprite. On his jacket, a pocket square, black with little red devil horns on it.

Ugh ahhh this is such an adorable detail!!!

“That’s the funny thing about those in power. They underestimate everyone beneath them, even knowing their secrets are heard by someone.”

“A time will come,” she said, “when all of us will have to make a choice between what is right and what is wrong. I worry that time is closer than we think. And I don’t know that we’re prepared.

If you go into a situation expecting the worst, it may cloud your ability to see what good can come from it.”

“Next to him is Talia,” Arthur said. “She’s our resident expert in all things garden-related.” Talia waved at him. “I like burying things, like seeds and people who cross me.”

Trust, Arthur knew, was a treasure effortlessly stolen, often without rhyme or reason. And this particular treasure was a fragile thing, a piece of thin glass easily broken. But here was David, surrounded by strangers in an unfamiliar place, attempting to pick up his pieces and put them back into a recognizable shape. Whatever else he was, David’s bravery in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds proved yet again what Arthur had always believed: magic existed in many forms, some extraordinary, some simple acts of goodwill and trust, small though they might be.

it’s okay to not be okay, so long as it doesn’t become all we know.”

Lucy nodded. “And I’ll open up a dimensional doorway in the fabric of reality and send her to a place where even demons fear to tread. What is this evil place, you might be asking? Great question!” He spread his hands wide in a practiced display of showmanship. “It’s called … Florida.”

After replaying the song seven more times, Lucy proclaimed Arthur and David to be scat masters, and reminded them that it had nothing to do with feces, which Arthur appreciated. After all, they had enough shit to deal with.

“Do you think that when Miss Marblemaw finishes her inspection she’ll let me have her skull if I ask nicely? It’s not like she’s using it very much.”

“That’s right!” Chauncey crowed. “I have armpit hair, which means I’m a man! As such, you might see me carrying a briefcase or getting on important conference calls to talk about business and other adult things. But fear not! I’m still young at heart.”