A Judgement of Powers (Inheritance of Magic #3)

by Benedict Jacka

“And you actually thought that would work?” “I was twenty years old, and like all twenty-year-olds, I was a bloody idiot.” “Hey.” “Yes, I know you’re twenty-one, and no, that doesn’t make much difference. Trust me, when you’re my age, you’ll think your current self was a bloody idiot as well.

But when you have kids, your job is to do what’s best for them, not what’ll make them happy right now.

“Want to know what I think the worst case is now?” I nodded. “That we’re all playing pieces on a game board the size of the universe and there are gods looming over us playing a game of death chess where the moves are our lives.”

“Imagine that, on your way here, you saw an insect struggling in a puddle. If you reached down, picked it up, and placed it somewhere dry…would you have explained your reasons to it? Would it have been able to understand you if you had?”

don’t think I’m an especially envious person, but when you run into someone who’s got all the things that make you special and is better than you at literally all of them, it’s hard not to find it a bit annoying.

“Freedom for the pike is death for the minnows. If someone tells you their highest value is freedom, it means they see themselves as a pike.”

“You people are unbelievable,” I said at last. “First Lucella tells me she’s going to kill me if I get too close to Byron. Then Byron tries to recruit me after seeing me with Lucella. Then Mark tries to beat the crap out of me for talking to Byron. Then Byron chews out Mark for messing up his pitch to me. Then Mark calls you in to stop me from saying yes to Byron, because Byron’s forbidden Mark to come close to me, which is only a problem because Mark was trying to attack me, which only happened because Byron wants to replace him.” I looked at Vermillion. “Did I get that right? Because there are soap operas less complicated than this crap.”

“When you said Whitechapel, I thought you meant the market,” Ivy said. “Not an alley that looks like a hangout for serial killers.”

Oh, don’t get me wrong, your relationship to your family will always be important. But it’s also not something you get to make irrevocable decisions about. They’re your family; you can be close or distant, but you’ll always be connected, like it or not.”

“To whom much is given, much shall be required,” Father Hawke told me. “Your gift, your talents…if not to accomplish something, why were you given them?”

“I think perhaps,” Father Hawke said, “you haven’t been trying too hard to find the answer because you’re afraid of what might be asked of you once you do.”

“If you want things that other people don’t have,” I said, “then you have to do things that other people won’t do.”

“We can’t, the Hunters are still there.” “I thought Gabriel was killing them!” “Uh, gimme a second, I need to grab a weapon and run back.” “Grab a—? You died, didn’t you?” “Just once…” “Okay, screw it, I’m going for it. Leeeeroooooy…”

“A stupid enemy, if you defeat them, will come back and try the same thing again,” Charles said. “A competent enemy will learn from the experience, then come back in greater strength. In this case, that would mean fifty hired thugs instead of twenty, and five vanguards instead of two. Enough that you and Calhoun would have no chance against them at all.” Charles glanced at me. “Always assume your enemies are competent rather than stupid. That way, all your surprises will be pleasant ones.”

“He’s not our friend,” I said angrily. “The Winged are a power. Powers do not have friends. They have interests.”

“A conflict can end in one of two ways,” Charles said. “Either one side crushes the other, or they come to a compromise. As I told you, in any extended conflict with the Winged, House Ashford would lose. This was the best realistically achievable outcome.”