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The longshoreman grinned at me. “It’s going to be fine as long as you don’t get killed.” “Look, that could just as easily be said of pudding or sex or life itself. It’s not the hallmark of a good plan.”
“And who can’t escape them.” “No, we can’t. Well, wait. Why can’t we?” Jerin flicked a finger in my direction. “We’ll drop off the Raelech in Hashan Khek and then just keep sailing north into a life of adventure.” Olet smiled for the first time, and it transformed her whole person. “You mean two itinerant firelords walking among the tiny people of the world, caramelizing their onions and custard for them?” “And fetching things off the top shelf. We’d be very helpful like that.”
This is the best! You know why?” “Why?” “Because if someone wants to mess with me, I’ll be able to say, ‘Step back, man, or I am going to throw bees in your face!’”
She’s tolerating him only to be polite, but Jorry isn’t picking up on any of those signals. He is little more than an ambulatory boner.
everything has its season, and budding promise has as much beauty as full flower.
I know there are those who say if you are not strong, then you are merely a victim in waiting, but I think that’s the violent man’s way of justifying the evil he does.
