Trail of Lightning (The Sixth World Book 1)

by Rebecca Roanhorse

The coffee’s so good, and I’ll be pissed if sugar ruins it.

“Words matter,” he says. “The name you give things, it forms them when you speak. You must always be careful with your words.”

But the only song playing in the whole of Dinétah is Patsy Cline, and she’s falling to pieces.

“I’m just telling you that just because that Neizghání taught you there was one way to skin a cat, it don’t mean it’s the only way to skin a cat. Or that a cat’s gotta be skinned at all.”

I haven’t worn cosmetics since high school, didn’t know they were still around until Clive produced a stash that would satisfy a drag queen.

“Because, what, I can’t like guns and glamour at the same time? They’re not mutually exclusive, you know.”

tug again at what’s pretending to be my shirt.

But it kind of works in a Rambo meets Howdy Doody kind of way.

“Being a hero’s not about being perfect. It’s about doing the right thing, doing your best to get the people you care about home safely.

A good man can use a hammer to build a house. A bad man can use it to kill his neighbor. The hammer is the same.”

“Everything you’ve done, your past, it’s all just a story you tell yourself. Some of it is true, but some of it is lies.”