The Obelisk Gate (The Broken Earth, #2)

by N.K. Jemisin

In his panic, he has opened himself to danger, and the danger that he fears above all others has come striding through the door as if it owns the place already.

“Something to remember, Syen, for when you make your own choices in the future: Some of them come with a terrible price. Although sometimes that price is worth paying.”

There is such a thing as too much loss. Too much has been taken from you both—taken and taken and taken, until there’s nothing left but hope, and you’ve given that up because it hurts too much. Until you would rather die, or kill, or avoid attachments altogether, than lose one more thing.

But being useful to others is not the same thing as being equal.

The way of the world isn’t the strong devouring the weak, but the weak deceiving and poisoning and whispering in the ears of the strong until they become weak, too.

“I think I understand why you hate us,” she says to her father as she drops her hands to her sides. “I’ve done bad things, Daddy, like you probably thought I would. I don’t know how to not do them. It’s like everybody wants me to be bad, so there’s nothing else I can be.” She hesitates, then says what’s been in her mind for months now, unspoken. She doesn’t think she’ll have another chance to say it. “I wish you could love me anyway, even though I’m bad.”

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