Absolution (Southern Reach #4)

by Jeff VanderMeer

But Old Jim knew. He knew the stranger was a Rogue, and he was inclined to consider this Rogue an agent of sorts—a person who, in Central parlance, would come to mean the familiar unfamiliar, “one who knows us but is not us.” A kind of slant rhyme connecting who he was to what espionage was. Such a person moved against the pattern of tides, of stars, of seasons and, in that sense, was not bound by the idea of Time as experienced on the Forgotten Coast. Such a person was dangerous.

Until it became meaningless, and then, once again, held meaning.

So young to be so full of knives.

God’s eye could fuck right off. Could take a flaming arrow to its core and burn and kill God dead.