A Marvellous Light (The Last Binding, #1)

by Freya Marske

In the gaps between small things, Edwin could feel his quiescent magic like a single drop of blood in a bucket of water: more obvious than it deserved to be, given its volume. He could breathe into the knots in the back of his neck. And he could feel out the edges of the aching, yearning space in his life that no amount of quiet and no number of words had yet been able to fill.

Very descriptive.

Even that was overwhelming for a few long moments: he was the joins of the wooden furniture, he was the skitter of mouse-feet in the gaps between walls, he was mirrors and clocks and dried herbs hung in the rafters and the charms for safety laid around every fireplace.

Love this.