Wundersmith: The Calling of Morrigan Crow (Nevermoor, #2)

by Jessica Townsend

My little Society puppet. That was what Squall had said. My pair of willing hands. “You! You’re the one who’s been helping Squall all this time.” There was a soft intake of breath from Hawthorne. Mildmay looked as if he might be sick.

WHAT??!!! Not Mildmay!!!😭😭😫😫

was a different feeling from before. When Morrigan had first called Wunder in this room, the sensation of holding raw power in her hands had swiftly given way to a total lack of control. She hadn’t known what to do with the Wunder once she’d called it, and it knew that. Somehow it knew, and it had mutinied. This was not that. This was seamless. The Wunder that gathered to her now was perfectly aligned with her intention. Her righteous anger at everything that had happened tonight—everything that had happened this year—had at last given it the purpose it craved.

“Hurry! I can’t… hold it… much… longer.”

The turtle 🐢 professor in for the save!!

Jupiter had warned her about listening to Israfel. She knew she shouldn’t. But when would she ever have this chance again? Morrigan let her hands fall away from her head. Above the sound of her friends calling her name, above the roaring of waves and the booming of cannons, above even the new sound of distant sirens coming closer… she heard the sweet, celestial voice of Israfel for the first time. Just for a second. Just one note. When Morrigan tried to recall—days and weeks and years later—the sound of that single note, the feeling of it, she would remember being warmed by the sun in winter, and held by a mother she’d never known. She’d remember a joyful, bone-deep certainty that she had never hurt another living being.

She’d also remember what came next. The clatter of footsteps on cobblestones, and the feeling of strong hands closing fast over her ears, blocking out all sound. Looking up to see a pair of wide, wild blue eyes in a forest of ginger hair. The bittersweet feeling of crashing back to earth, knowing she would land somewhere safe.

“She’s not Mundane either,” said Jupiter flatly. “No.” Murgatroyd sniffed, watching Morrigan with an appraising eye. She leaned in close—closer than Morrigan would have liked—and spoke in an unsettling rasp. “Gregoria Quinn thought she could tuck you away inside these hallowed halls, where you wouldn’t become a problem for the rest of the Free State. Wouldn’t become another mess for the Wundrous Society to clean up. I told her, the fool—safest place for a firecracker is out in the open.”

“Go on, then. I’ll take the little beastie.”

Morrigan Odelle Crow We have kept the secret of Unit 919. But you have a dangerous secret of your own. Reveal yourself as a Wundersmith to everyone present, before the clock has struck the hour. Or we will reveal the truth about Republic deserter Princess Lamya Bethari Amati Ra To the Wundrous Society

What a twist!!!

“Unit 919 has just passed their fifth and final trial,” she announced with a small, satisfied smile. “You all remember quite keenly, I am sure, what it was like to undertake your own Loyalty Trial, when you were first-year scholars. The nature of the trial is different for each unit, of course, but the object remains the same: a test of your commitment to your oaths.”

What!!! This is child abuse lol

“Elder Saga, Elder Wong, and I wish to remind you that although the Society has a rich history of nurturing diverse and sometimes dangerous talents, we would never knowingly invite a corrupting force into our ranks. Indeed, by destroying the Ghastly Market and saving two Wundrous Society lives, Miss Crow has shown herself to be a force for good—a useful, interesting, good person, whom we are delighted to call one of our own. She may be a Wundersmith, but truly from today onward, she is our Wundersmith.”

Awwww barf 🥰

don’t understand,” said Thaddea finally. “Why did they blackmail us to keep Morrigan’s secret, when they were just going to make her tell everyone anyway? What a dirty trick.” “That was the test, Thaddea,” said Mahir. “I know that was the test, Mahir,” Thaddea said, mimicking his voice. “I just mean… it’s so…” “Mean?” said Cadence.

“Yes!” cried Thaddea. “It’s so mean. To all of us, but especially to Morrigan.” Everyone looked up in surprise at that, not least of all Morrigan herself, who just about choked on her own tongue. Hawthorne did choke, but he managed to cover it up with a cough. “What did it say, Morrigan?” Arch nodded at the note in Morrigan’s hand with a curious little frown. “To make you give yourself away like that?” She closed the piece of paper protectively in her fist. “I—I can’t tell you.” Mahir laughed. “What? What do you mean, you—” “I just can’t.” “Don’t be ridic—” “It’s about me, isn’t it?” Lambeth’s quiet voice came from the back of the group, and she stepped forward, looking miserable but determined.