Somewhere Beyond the Sea (Cerulean Chronicles, #2)

by T.J. Klune

For the trans community the world over: I see you, I hear you, I love you. This story is for you.

🌈🌈🌈

Rebirth. Perseverance. Color. Life. Everything important in the smallest packages.

“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.”

“I accidentally reversed gravity when I was trying to measure butter.” “Oh,” Chauncey said. “That makes sense. I bet that happens to a lot of people because cooking is hard.”

“This is what happens when you sleep late,” Linus muttered. “Just when you think you’re getting extra rest, someone breathes fire.”

“So many people want to eat my food,” Lucy said in awe. “This must be what it feels like to be God. Fun fact! Some people go to church and ritually eat Jesus and drink his blood. Isn’t that interesting?” “Oh my goodness,” Chauncey whispered. “I’ll just stick to eating pine cones, thank you very much.”

“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.”

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

You either asked Theodore to be your friend, or you challenged him to a duel on a Wednesday evening using only bananas and a feather boa as weapons.”

“I am not a magic banana boy! I do not care about your poops! I am Lucifer.”

“Cats are most certainly not food,” Linus said sternly. “Especially this cat.” “Linus gets upset when we try and eat Calliope,” Talia explained as the others nodded around her. Arthur cleared his throat. “Also, eating cats is wrong,” Talia added. More nodding.

“That threat worked better on me when I didn’t know you liked footie pajamas,”

“Congratulations! You caught me. I eat pine cones after everyone goes to bed, but it’s fine, I can stop whenever I want!”

“Arthur?” “Yes, Linus?” “Why is the owner of the record store giving our children weapons?” “Because he’s not very good at cards,” Arthur explained. “He should really practice more before making bets against others. Lucy, it’s your turn.”

“I want to blow up someone’s body!” “I bet it’ll rain organs,” Phee said. “Cloudy with a chance of lungs.”

“That certainly sounds disturbing. I approve.”

“I’m biologically unique!” Chauncey exclaimed to no one in particular.

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

“Has anyone seen a scorpion? No worries if not. He’s one of the tiny ones, which means he’s really poisonous while also being hard to see.”

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.”

“Anarchy!” Lucy shrieked, eyes burning red. “Chaos! Buffets with a never-ending supply of macaroni and cheese! Hellfire!”

They care about themselves. About control. About manipulation in media, in polling, in the spreading of fear until subservience is not only a relief, but a welcome one at that.”

“I won’t be intimidated by you. I have God on my side.” Lucy groaned. “Oh, you’re one of those. Ugh.”

“Maybe she just hasn’t met the right person yet,” Chauncey said. “Someone who can love her and also scare the crap out of her.”

“A bit of advice: don’t. Reporters only cause trouble.” “Is that right? And here I thought they reported.”

“She didn’t want to listen to me talk about sticky buns and Hell. I’m so sad for her.”

“Are you all right?” “I am,” he said. “Stabbed her with kindness.” “The best kind of stabbing, or so I’m told.”

Trauma, as you’re hopefully aware, manifests itself in different ways—some big, some small—and can extend across a lifetime. The fact that you’re trivializing it says more about you than it does about him. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a desire to hear some dead-people music.”

“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 certainly one way of putting it,” Arthur said. “But why don’t we keep that between us?”

“Hey! Hi! Good morning! Things exploded, and we didn’t do it! Isn’t that crazy?”

I don’t know who you think you are, but I am a representative of the government, which means I have complete and total power here. I won’t have an unregistered person telling me what to do.

We knew as much but have now come into information that indicates subterfuge.” “My favorite kind of fuge,” Lucy breathed. “Next to vermifuge, which is medicine that expels intestinal worms.”

“Stab her with kindness!” Chauncey yelled.

“LUCIFER BAKER-PARNASSUS.” “Uh-oh,” Lucy said. “And also, aw. I love that name.”

“I’d forgotten how much of a bitch you can be when you put your mind to it.” Arthur kissed her hair. “What a lovely thing to say.”

“Your definition of blasphemy is very different from ours,”

Why is it that a goose can be geese but a moose can’t be meese?”

“Your dad is quite the catch,” Linus said. “It’s the socks, you see.”

we will no longer hide. We will not stop. We will remake this world into one it should have been: welcome to all. And since you’re not with us, you’re against us.

This was hope; the children, love letters to a future that had yet to be decided.

“They’re going to come after your children, indoctrinate them into thinking being magical is normal. It’s anything but! It’s a choice. Now more than ever, our way of life is threatened, and we must protect our children. I can barely even sleep at night thinking of those poor, lost souls. See something, say something!”

It doesn’t matter what we look like, it doesn’t matter where we came from, or what we can do. All that matters is that we’re here, together, being anything and anyone we want to be.”

“we discussed the power that comes with being ordained. It does not include fleecing those you serve for all they’re worth.” “Actually,” Lucy said, “religion does exactly that. I mean, come on. Has there ever been a bigger racket?”

Hope is the thing with feathers, yes, and hope is the thing with fire.