The Stone of Farewell (Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, #2)

by Tad Williams

“Never make your home in a place,” the old man had told him that day. “Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You’ll find what you need to furnish it—memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey . . .” Is that what dying is? Simon wondered. Is it going home? That’s not so bad.

“We can do nothing else, even when hope is gone, but struggle on

“Who speaks?”

Ah. The owl. Baba Yaga

“Sometimes you men are like lizards, sunning on the stones of a crumbled house, thinking: ‘what a nice basking-spot someone built for me.’

Had it been only four months since Simon died?

Oh. She sad.

life was but a long struggle against disorder, and that disorder was the inevitable winner.

the more hopeless the struggle, the more crucial it was to struggle valiantly.

Even stranger—although she would never, never admit it to her Blessed-Rhiap-preserve-them charges—Rachel had found herself lost a few times in recent weeks, wandering in corridors she did not recognize. Rachel herself! She who had bestrode this castle as confidently as any ruler for decades, now lost in her own home. This was either madness or the folly of age . . . or some demon’s curse.

“Aldheorte Forest is free, but it is not a place for men to come together in resistance, except perhaps in the last hope, when all else is denied them.”

Book 3?

“One always makes more friends after one is dead.”

God allows each man or woman to choose. He does not compel love.”

“In times like these, when all is uncertain and many dangers are still not completely known, a chance for speed not taken is often regretted later.

“Lord Usires grant us wisdom. Why can men not be content with what they have?”

only a fool desires cheerful ignorance

Simon found himself in the grip of a stubborn anger that would not go away.

Same.

There is no heaven. How can there be a heaven, when everyone thinks it’s different?”

“It’s a lie—and you are an idiot to believe it!”

Felt that

How do you know that the sword is for killing? And if it is for that, what makes you think any of us is to be the killer?”

Mr Williams...I'm gonna need you to just stop. This is a boy book. I should not be having feelings.

How could there be a God who would let good people die, no matter what they do?”

The truths that became our stories of gods are far away in the past.

“Gods in the heaven or in the stone are distant, and we can guess only at what they intend.”

There is always something beyond even the worst of bad times. We may die, but the dying of some may mean living for others.

“To death and beyond, Simon-friend.”

“I’ll give you a new name. How about ‘Homefinder’?”

“When we meet again, may it be granted that it is beneath no shadow.

The secrets Hernystir kept were hidden in the hearts of its people, or below its sunny meadows, deep in the earth.

Of all mortal men, the Hernystiri once had known and loved the Sithi best. They learned much from them—although the things they had learned were now mentioned only in old ballads. They had also traded with the Sithi, bringing back to their own grassy country articles of workmanship beyond anything the finest smiths and craftsmen of Imperial Nabban could produce. In return, the Hernystirmen offered their immortal allies the fruits of the earth—nightblack malachite, ilenite and bright opal, sapphire, cinnabar, and soft, shiny gold—all painstakingly mined from the thousand tunnels of the Grianspog Mountains.

This was a kindly old man with a harelip, nothing more.

I have a feeling it's not

mayhem denied

“It is wrong, very wrong. Spring and summer have been retreated like a beaten army.”

Perhaps Hades didn't alloe Persephone to return

Still there is being much of beauty in this world.”

Who would ever have dreamed that Morgenes’ history lessons would be so important? Old cities and old stories were now part of his very life. It was strange how the future seemed tied inseparably to the past, so that both revolved through the present, like a great wheel . . .

“I hate their eyes,” King Elias said. He reached for a fresh goblet, but used this one for its proper and intended purpose. “Those damned sneaking yellow eyes.” He wiped his lip. “I think they’re spying on me.”

I was getting that vibe from the circling birds

One thing he thinks I do not know is that my brother Josua survived the fall of Naglimund.” He raised a hand to still Guthwulf’s exclamation of surprise. “Another secret-that-is-no-secret: he plans to do away with you.”

Oh. He's spilling the tea

“Touch the sword, Guthwulf,” Elias said. His eyes seemed to shine more brightly as the room darkened. “Come and touch the sword. Then you will understand.” “No,” Guthwulf said weakly, but watched with horror as his arm moved forward as if by its own will. “I don’t want to touch the damned thing . . .” Now his hand hovered just above the ugly, slow-shimmering blade.

Magic sword...

There is also Dinivan in Nabban.”

Makes sense

If you have a proud and headstrong woman, you would be better off not to judge your success by her obedience.

Tell em Tad

“Pilgrims on the road through hell cannot afford too much merriment,”

Minneyar, King Fingil’s sword, was made of the iron keel of his boat, iron brought to Osten Ard by the Rimmersman sea-raiders out of the lost west. Thorn, most recently the sword of Prester John’s noblest knight, Sir Camaris, was forged from the glowing metals of a fallen star—like Minneyar’s iron, something foreign to Osten Ard. And Sorrow, the sword that Nisses claims Ineluki of the Sithi used to slay his own father the Erl-king, was made of Sithi witchwood and iron, two elements long thought to be antithetical and unmixable. Thus, such objects derive their strength primarily, it would seem, from the unearthly origins of their substance. Stories tell, however, that powerful Spells of Making were also wound in the forging of all these three blades, so the power of the Great Swords may come from both their substance and their making.

an object of power

What is this? Control? Hehe

Sometimes obvious foolishness is the only answer to grave problems.” “Hmmm,” said

Besides, Valada Geloë tells me that one can live years without tasting meat.” Deornoth grimaced. “But who would want to?”

I'm team Deornoth

“There are no friendly strangers on these grasslands,”

Great.

“It has always been the same world, Prince Josua,” she said. “It is only that in these troubled hours things are seen more clearly. The lamps of cities blur many shadows that are plain beneath the moon.”

Tad be poppin off

So real. Like they were talking in my head . .

Yer a horcrux, Seoman

“You may be washing the bowl when you have finished,” the troll sniffed. “A nice bowl is a luxurious thing to have on a journey of such dangerousness.”

Valid. Hehe

“Skodi’s house! Skodi’s house!” the boy said, bouncing so that Simon had to restrain him. “She’ll be happy!”

I have bad feelings.

The changeable sword was at this moment quite light. It also seemed to throb slightly,

Perhaps a LoTR element? Senses/alerts to danger?

Had that been when the world had begun to go wrong? When Dinivan and his fellow Scrollbearers had brought Pryrates into their secret councils? They had opened their hearts and treasured archives to the young priest, respecting the honed sharpness of Pryrates’ mind for a long time before the rot at the center of him could no longer be mistaken.

He had sent messages to the two Scrollbearers still living, Jarnauga and Ookequk’s apprentice, though he had heard from neither in some time. He had also sent suggestions or instructions to others of good faith, like the forest-woman Geloë and little Tiamak in the marshy Wran.