The Puppeteer (Harrow Faire, #2)

by Kathryn Ann Kingsley

“Simon, are you in there?” It was Ringmaster. “Go away. I’m having sex,” Simon shouted back. “No, he is not!” Cora scrambled for the door and threw it open.

Can’t have you cracking your head on the stage. You’ll just yell at me some more.” “No, I wouldn’t.” “Yes, you would.” Yeah, she would.

When she turned her head and blinked a few times, she realized that the source of the wet slap…was an arm. Aaron’s arm. Torn off at the socket. She knew by what. Strings.

I meannnnnnn 👀

I’m so very good at gluing shards of broken things together. Trust me…I’ve done it to myself plenty of times.”

“Well, you’ve gone from weeping at the gate to weeping five feet outside the gate. What remarkable progress you’ve made in the past three days!”

We live all our lives in cages. Each of us, be we a slave or be we a king, call a prison our home. The prison is that which gives us shelter. It is our society. We answer to the call of our peers, and we take our place within the structures of humanity around us. We are the ticking cogs within a machine that contains us. We are protected by its housings, even as we are driven forward by the gears about us through no choice of our own. There is no such thing as freedom.