The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles, #3)

by Mary E. Pearson

Time moved forward, circling, repeating, another devastation coiling like a poisonous serpent that had awakened, ready to strike.

Each bead of memory that I added helped me move forward. On the first night, when I had unloaded the pack on my horse, the necklace of carefully polished beads suddenly snapped and spilled to the ground. It was the simplest of things that broke it loose.

the bite of words that were never said.

The truths of the world wish to be known, but they won’t force themselves upon you the way lies will. They’ll court you, whisper to you, slip inside and warm your blood, and caress your neck until your flesh rises in bumps. That is the truth whispering to you. But you have to quiet your heart,

Only lost unsaid words that added up to good-bye.”

I kissed two fingers, lifting them to the heavens, one for the lost, and one for those yet to come,