The Mime Order (The Bone Season Book 2)

by Samantha Shannon

Shoreditch.

Wow. A connection to Queen Mab in the Rose Code

her right eye was deep brown, the left was green, with a loop of yellow around the pupil. It was the second time in my life that I had seen a pair of eyes like that.

Huh...

Either I was thick as a plank, or the æther enjoyed bewildering people. Possibly both.

Aether's got jokes

Once, they had been responsible for preserving the delicate balance between worlds. Their overriding duty was to ensure that humans accepted death, so their spirits moved on to the end of the æther.

‘My family, the Mesarthim, were sworn guardians to the Mothallath. We wanted to accompany Azha, as did the Sargas, to protect and assist her – but we soon discovered that only the Mothallath could step between the worlds.’

Huh

‘To that end,’ he said, ‘we revealed ourselves to Lord Palmerston, telling him that the Emim were demons and we, angels. Almost without question, he surrendered control of the government to Nashira.’

‘If I could choose anyone on Earth, it would still be you, Paige Mahoney.’

Well.

Being enough had been nice while it lasted.

‘Once you drink alysoplasm, you will not be able to use your gift until it wears off. You will be hidden, but defenceless.’

‘If I fear anything, it is not that I want you,’ he said quietly. ‘Only that I might want you too much. And for too long.’

I had never felt anything like this. Not for anyone. Sometimes I had wondered if I ever would. Either way, I had been content with it.

fear and understanding were kindred things. Both involved the loss of the familiar, the need for knowledge, the danger of uncharted waters. If we could survive that first step, perhaps we could survive the next.

The hand without flesh lifted the crimson silk, laying it down on the woman with two smiles and a fractured heart.

I think we have found Cutmouth

Grub Street usually printed in black and white, but they had added red ink to this one, as they had for On the Merits of Unnaturalness.

‘But being with him quietly is better than not being with him at all.’

I emerged into a passage with the distinctive arched ceiling of the London Underground. I drew back at once, one hand on my revolver. The tunnel was deserted. A lost station, but not part of the Pentad Line.

A small train waited. It only came up as high as my waist. The ends were painted red, the central parts in rusted black. republic of england postal service was stamped in faded gold paint along the side.

I do love London's underground postal trains. They're dope

‘Are you still taking the lithium?’ ‘Yes.’ The Abbess breathed in deep, holding the arms of her chair. ‘You needn’t worry about me, Eustace. Our symbiosis is much stronger now.’

Uh. What?

Chelsea Neves

Whomst?

save Cutmouth.

That's whomst

Surely to fuck I could reason this out.

Me @ 99% of things

With a flick of my spirit, I knocked him unconscious, leaving him crumpled by the gate. Not even the barest hint of a headache followed. I took the bundle of notes from his pocket, returned it to my own jacket, then rose. The spirit guard parted like a set of curtains.

We stan.

Now I wondered. I wondered if Jaxon was vengeful enough to imprison a whole swathe of voyants just to get back at the ones who had wronged him.

Youre wondering? Cause he 100% would do just that.

And please, help Ivy, wherever she is. This will break her heart.’

Not killing one half of the wifies. BOOOOO.

After a moment, I asked her, ‘What if the spirit was a poltergeist?’ ‘No sane medium would let a poltergeist use their body.’ ‘But let’s say she theoretically did, or the possession was unsolicited.’

If this is how we find Jack...

‘This is just—’ Eliza pressed her temples. ‘I got the best news of the last few years, the Abbess is a murderer, and my friend is losing her marbles. All of these things can apparently be true in one day.’

It be rough out here, Eliza.

Zeke, I stopped dead. He was crouching beside a patch of ice, wider than a maintenance shaft, with the faintest glow. ‘Looks like a perfect circle.’ He skirted his fingers around the edge. ‘How likely is that?’ It didn’t look like a perfect circle. It was a perfect circle.

C'mon c'mon

As soon as Ella Giddings had reached out to him, the fragile balance between his two selves had started to slip.

Who the hella is Ella?

‘When something plays on your mind, as you say, it is the spectres at work. They cannot hurt your dream-form, but they may attempt to block your path.

mounting him again.

Not a good enough reason to use the word "mounting"

‘I have a bad feeling about it.’

Is this Star Wars?

‘I’ve known for a while,’ Nick said. ‘I support her.’

And this is why we love Nick.

I had no idea how you were supposed to talk to someone after spending the night in their arms. There must be an art to it.

She is so silly

If you want me to get you an army, get me Ivy Jacob.’

Starting to sound like an Underqueen

‘The truth requires no apology.’ He removed two vials from his coat.

I know my usual belief is thay men are terrible but i love a man who gets a Golden Cord and immediately chugs his Respect Women Juice

the Rag and Bone Man gave me nothing. He had taken alysoplasm.

‘Who are you?’ I said quietly. ‘Are you going to confess that you had Hector and Cutmouth killed, or let someone else take the blame for it?’ ‘Do not interfere. I will cut your throat.’ ‘You, or one of your puppets?’ ‘We are all puppets here.’

‘And of course, my personal favourites,’ the Abbess declared. ‘The White Binder of I-4, and his esteemed mollisher, the Pale Dreamer.’

Well that…hmm…that just makes me suspect she and Jax are working together

As we circled each other, I sent out the barest flicker of pressure, just enough for him to feel it. The Bleeding Heart was unsighted. From his stricken face, he must have missed my red aura, and now he was realising he had bitten off more than he could chew. He sent a feeble spool at me, made of wisps, so frail I didn’t know why he had bothered. I forged a spool of my own and hit back, and he flopped like a boneless fish on the ash. Definitely playing dead. He must have lost his nerve, and with killers in the ring, I didn’t blame him.

Damn. Drag him, Paige.

bearded axe

He wears a crown of many secrets, and the shadows are his throne.

‘What is the reason?’ ‘Because there is an active combatant still in the Rose Ring.’ I stepped away from him. ‘I’m Black Moth. And I challenge you, White Binder.’

*slow claps*

answered to Paige Mahoney. I had grown to like Eva. After all, my first name was English, chosen by my mother as she died. For over a decade, no one had called me anything else. It was a quick and living name. But I had lost another one, and my spirit remembered it. A connection to my family. A name I had once shared with fabled warriors and queens. Perhaps that was the reason Jaxon Hall had failed to bind me. Or perhaps the White Binder had finally gone too far, in his arrogance and vanity. Perhaps even his power couldn’t override a silver cord.

Zeke rose from his chair. With no expression, he picked up his jacket and pulled it over his turtleneck. Nick reached for his hand, and Zeke squeezed it once before his fingers slipped away. He touched my elbow, then walked out of the vault after his sister, his gait stiff. Nadine linked his arm without a word. She shot me a glance, one I couldn’t interpret. I didn’t understand her choice – Nadine had been open in her resentment and fear of Jaxon – but I trusted that she had her reasons.

Noooooo

‘But Scion itself is the greatest lie in history. A two-hundred-year-old façade for the true government of England. The true inquisitors of clairvoyance.’ ‘Of whom do you speak, Underqueen?’ the Heathen Philosopher asked. ‘She speaks of us.’ The deep voice came from the entrance to the vault; an outbreak of shouting and gasping ensued. Arcturus Mesarthim stood beneath the archway, flanked by his fellow Ranthen. His timing was impeccable.

Fuck yes.

While Scion had sold us to the Rephs, our own leaders had sold us to Scion. That was the grey market. That was the endeavour.

Grief wrote itself in small print on Ivy.

Her next bullet hit Ivy, who crumpled to the ground.

Bitch what.

‘How does it repel poltergeists?’ ‘The metal is sublimed – that is, imbued with ectoplasm. It belonged to Azha Mothallath,’ he said. I raised my eyebrows. ‘Terebell was reluctant to give it to you, but she eventually agreed that you needed it to face Nashira.’ He touched it. ‘I ask only that you keep it safe. It is one of the few heirlooms from our ruling family.’

‘Hope is the lifeblood of revolution. Without it, we are nothing but ash, waiting for the wind to take us.’

Rebellions are built on hope, ya know