Thunderhead (Arc of a Scythe #2)

by Neal Shusterman

I can only hope that I have the virtual shoulders of Atlas to bear it.

And each time I witness a cruel act by a corrupt scythe, I seed the clouds somewhere in the world, and bring a lamentation of rain. Because rain is the closest thing I have to tears.

Suffice it to say that Goddard is the most recent in a long line of scythes who look up into the night sky and see not the stars, but the darkness between them.