Sorcery of Thorns (Sorcery of Thorns, #1)

by Margaret Rogerson

Never forget that knowledge is your greatest weapon. The more knowledge the better, so you can hit the sorcerer over the head with it and give him a concussion. That’s why I chose such a big one.

She now understood that the world wasn’t kind to young women, especially when they behaved in ways men didn’t like, and spoke truths that men weren’t ready to hear.

Elisabeth lit up. “Grimoires,” she breathed, even more delighted than before. Nathaniel’s expression grew odd. “You like this place?” “Of course I do. It has books in it.”

“You need some new clothes,” he said, pretending to read one of the papers. She knew he was pretending, because the paper was upside down.

“His name is—er—it’s”—she gulped—“Sir Fluffington.” Dangling from Parsifal’s hands, Silas gave her a look of extreme reproach.

“When terrible things have happened to you, sometimes the promise of something good can be just as frightening.”

“You unmanageable, contrary creature. You have made me believe in something at last. It feels as wretched as I imagined.”

“God, Elisabeth, I’ve been doomed since the moment I watched you smack a fiend off my carriage with a crowbar. How could you not tell? Silas has been rolling his eyes at me for weeks.”

For these were not ordinary books the libraries kept. They were knowledge, given life. Wisdom, given voice. They sang when starlight streamed through the library’s windows. They felt pain and suffered heartbreak. Sometimes they were sinister, grotesque—but so was the world outside. And that made the world no less worth fighting for, because wherever there was darkness, there was also so much light.