More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“You haven’t sealed them?” she gasped. “Sealed them? What does that mean? I don’t understand.” “An Alchemist must seal her runes,” she rasped. “You are a well that runs deep. When you were marked with your runes, their magic began pouring into you. It flows and it flows. It will not… stop…”
Carrion snorted, turning a page. “I’m only one thousand and ninety-six, thank you very much.”
Lorreth was with Carrion
All libraries contained magic. Even libraries that didn’t specialize in such things. Because what was a book, if not a portal into another realm, another time, another life even.
Nissarhin.”
The magic of the gods ran through it—magic made to undo the likes of Foley and the other members of the Blood Court.
what happens when something or someone is oppressed for long enough that it finally rises up and says enough? Hm?”
I will not rob you of your path by insisting I carry you.”
“Then let my love be equal to yours.”
Saeris. If I’d gotten here an hour earlier, I would have done it. I would have jumped.” He blinked his eyelids open, a stillness falling over him as he looked out at the water. “But now?” A crooked, heartbroken smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. “How can I consign myself to another endless dark when I’ve been given back the light?”
“We believe that animals are too pure for this life. They are all ascended beings who live in the after. Everything is perfect there. No pain or misfortune or heartbreak. But sometimes, they peer beyond the veil between this life and the next, and they see us here in the depths of our suffering, and they choose someone. One soul they want to help over any other. They come to us as… dear friends”—he cleared his throat—“when we need them most. You needed Onyx when you first got here, Saeris. He saw that perhaps, and he came. But now—”
feels like trying to make sand flow backward in an hourglass. It feels like being surrounded by people and being the only one who can’t find the air in the room. It’s drowning on dry land. It’s the hollow ache of something that you know, from that moment on, will always be missing. It is a pain so acute and incurable that poets, pirates, and politicians alike die from it. And it never ends.”
How much of a person’s identity resided in their name? How much of their soul? A strange thought.
