Marsha > Recent Status Updates

My stomach sank. The fear from my dream sang again in my blood.
Someone was murdered in our courtyard.
The cops think Marion did it.
He didn't do it. Probably.
I helped him run away.
I wasn't awake enough yet for that conversation. I'd have to think of the right way to tell her, and I needed coffee for that. "Thought you had something to tell me," I said, rubbing my face with both hands.

Given how nervous I was when this afternoon began, I'm shocked at how disappointed I feel when the rummage sale ends and the parents start collecting their kids. Most of the children can't wait to show off their glitter-covered masterpieces, and most of the parents are horrified by how much of that glitter is actually in their children's hair.
Still, you can't argue with happiness.

"Hey, Connolly."
Crap. Marcos is leaning against the hood of his dark blue Subaru when I step into the parking lot after school. Despite having two classes together after lunch, I managed.to avoid speaking with him all afternoon thanks to a combination of precisely timed lateness and incredibly lame excuses. Now, however, there's no getting past him. He's parked right next to me.
"Hey."

Grant can attend tonight's carnival dateless if he wants, but it's going to be great for me. and I think the games and the flashing lights will really brighten up Logan's evening. I mean it's technically half-selfish because I'm getting a fun night with him out of it.
I stop by Hailey's on the way. She and the girls from the swim team are going to Orlando for some super sweet Nike swim camp.

My heart skips hearing that. Of course it does, because it's Grant and it's not like anyone wouldn't swoon a little hearing that from someone else. Especially if that someone was Grant Kennedy.
"I know we're just friends" Grant says. "But will you give me one date?"
"What? No."
"Come on!"
"I don't think it's a good idea," I tell him as I remember how nice it felt just being with Logan this morning.

And yet you stand here, ready to pay a price your man won't pay for you. I would have given up everything for your father, but Drogon wouldn't sacrifice anything for me, not even the slightest chink in his reputation. And why should he? There is nothing more attractive to a man than a girl who silently surrenders her power to him. It is what fairy tales are built upon. Girls who have to pass a test to win a man.

"The offer's still there, Honey, and I would honor ya every day, build us a good home and promise only you my heart." He released my hand.
"Obliged, Carson. but the books are the sanctuary for my heart. And like you, I want to decide my own marriage should I ever find someone. I'll carry the books up to Martha Hannah and the babies. Right up to your cabin window, same as Mama did."

"It's a right pretty place from what I've seen in the National Geographic." I peered at the ring he'd made. "Much obliged, Jackson. This is a special gift, and I'll keep it in the Bible for Honey." I held up the keepsake, peered at the tiny woven ring of Willie's dark hair and Angeline's blond. A precious piece of their life, for Honey's new life that she could hold forever. I pressed it to my mouth.

The second hot day of July wore on me, and I rested more times than I dared on my route up Hogtail Mountain, each time feeling sicker and weaker. It'd been nine days since I'd started taking Doc's medicine, and I still felt bad, still thirsted for water, especially in the mornings. It seemed like with each passing day, the medicine was making me feel worse. So much that I took to leaving all loans on the porches.

"Be obliged to get one. Nester Rylie's been reading it, and she told me in passing last year, she ain't rubbed groundhog brains on her babies' sore teeth or needed to use the hen innards on gums of her teething ones since. And after she'd read about a good paste recipe that cured thrush, Nester said, none of her nine young'uns ain't ever had to drink water from a stranger's shoe again to get the healing."

By the time they all made it back to Alastair's car, Tamara was wringing out her braids, and Call felt as if his soaked clothes weighed a hundred pounds. After glancing around to make sure no one was looking, Tamara summoned up enough fire magic to create a miniature bonfire they could all warm themselves with. (Except for Havoc, who just bounced around shaking the water off his fur.)

"I command you to never listen to my commands again, okay?" Call said.
"I heard you the first five times," Aaron told him, sitting on a rock and looking out toward the river. "But I don't know if that will work. I have no idea how long your commands last on me."
Call felt cold all over. He remembered when he'd told Aaron to knock it off with Tamara, and Aaron and immediately shut up.

Call could almost feel the power coming off Tamara. Instead or air, though, it was fire that sprang up in embers, in a wide looping circle around the escaping animals. But even as the fence crackled to life, corralling the great majority, the rest of the animals scattered--some of them toward the woods, and others toward anyone they saw. Now terrified by the fire, their eyes looked maddened and wild.

Sophia grins and shakes her head. "Tell you what--if I decide I'm done with your lame brother, I'll just kick him out. You have to stay. There hasn't been another girl in this house for a long time. I have to confess I've missed it."
I laugh as I put the double boiler back onto the burner for a moment to soften the chocolate a bit more. Sophia nods approvingly. "Who was the last girl that was here?" I ask.

A childhood pithiness about how everyone is the same inside flickered through Rory's mind, and she strangled an inappropriate, stress-driven laugh. The sentiment was meant to engender compassion by teaching empathy. Perhaps a biological approach would have been more successful: everyone's guts are red, so let's keep them inside our bodies. (Except everyone's guts weren't red.)

The vakari ship maintained something close to, but less than, a standard G. A cursory scan of the first layer of aether showed Rory extensive hexwork in the bulkheads and deck, more so than was standard on human ships. She had read about, but never observed, similar features on k'bal vessels. K'bal were arithmantically gifted, and arithmantically dependent (more than was wise, Messer Rupert had said).

I nod, taking another drink of water. I've hardly had a bite of chocolate since my sister--usually all I can think of when I'm around it is little yellow candies on the forest floor. Is this how it's supposed to make you feel? As if you're happy, as if you're safe?
Sophia drops the orange slices into a cooking pot before speaking. "My dad is gone too. That's why I came back here, actually, to run the chocolatier."

I pulled on a raincoat that had been stuffed inside the back pouch of Lee's seat, positioning the hood low over my face. I slipped the bag beneath my arm, making sure the overcoat covered it, then exited the car and hurried to the entrance.
Lee was waiting behind the glass doors and after he let me inside, we immediately parted ways--I headed toward the staircase that was located near the elevators.

The Vizier stared for a full minute at the closed door. Then, when he was certain the 'bot would be recording again, he began to laugh: not the raggedy gasps of a man halfway to breaking, which he had been half an hour before, but deeply satisfied chuckles which were out of place in solitary confinement, and which Rupert hoped would spark unease in his captors. (Which they did.)

Outside the prosperity of portholes, the gas giant Cherno, the darker of the Brothers, crept into visibility. It filled the porthole, a massive sphere of hydrocarbons rendered darkish orange and brown by the chemicals in its poisonous atmosphere. Its dozen visible moons glittered like gems that had been tossed into the air and had forgotten to fall again. It should have been imposing, perhaps even intimidating.

Antain's mother stood in the doorway of the workshop late one morning, her nostrils wrinkling from the sawdust and the sharp smell of Zirin hip oil, which gave the wood its particular sheen. Antain had just finished the final carved details on the headboard of a cradle--a sky full of bright stars. This was not the first time he had made such a cradle, and it was not the first time he had heard the term .Star Child.

Antain loved woodworking--the stability of the material, the delicate beauty of the grain, the comforting smell of sawdust and oil. There were few things in his life that he loved more. He carved and worked deep into the night, trying his best not to think about his life. The next Day of Sacrifice was approaching, after all. And Antain would need yet another excuse to make himself scarce.

"Magic is poetry. At least, poetry plus math. I always hated the math part, but all we need is for one plus one to equal one." Carefully, she leaned forward and turned the shadow over--the other Thea made a sound but did not wake up. Then she sat back and pulled out one of her long red hairs. "You'll have to be both needle and thread," she said to the red strand.

"This is how life was meant to be lived. Experiencing all there is to experience, and enjoying the company of others."
"Even when some of those others are paid to be here?"
Goddard looked out at the crowded pool deck that would have been far less dense, and far less beautiful, had it not been for the presence of professional party guests.
"There are always extras in every production," he told Rowan.

This is a collection of extremely rare posters related to magicians and conjurers. Last week some little snot-nosed moron broke in here and messed them all up. when you popped out of the pipe over there, I assumed it was you. My apologies. Anyway, notwithstanding the fact that it wasn't you who messed them up, I could use some help getting them reorganized. Since you're stuck here, I'll let you help out.

It took a few more calls, but Charlie discovered that Liam Clovin was a resident at Baystate Medical Center. That made getting to him more difficult in some ways and simpler in others. Charlie couldn't just make an appointment and confront him when he came in to treat her for her bunions, or whatever.
But medical residents are famously exhausted and exhaustion means limited attention.

One wonderful thing about heists was all the attention they absorbed.
When you were going to steal something or con someone, you couldn't think about your quickening shadow and whether to feed it blood or starve it back to sleep. Couldn't think about Vince's last words, or the way he'd looked at you when he'd come in from the store, grocery bags still in his arms.
What do you know about love?

The girls headed toward the shore, where the runway and the dock lay parallel to one another. They stopped just at the tree line. Clouds brewed overhead--the rumblings of a storm echoed int he distance. The beach was a few dozen steps away, the dock and runway not far from where they stood. A brilliant golden chariot with silver engravings was perched on the runway to their left.

"GENTLEMEN, I WOULD LIKE TO PROPOSE A TOAST!"
And then, the whole world was on fire.
Heat and light and horrible, inhuman shrieks. I got on my hands and knees and saw John hosting everything down, a fountain of orange light glaring in the darkness, a crowd of dark limbs flailing in a pool of flame. A hand grabbed me again from the crowd, its sleeve on fire--
A firearm!

Haleine explained that there was an Egyptian god named Kuk, who was already known to Egyptologists (in the Ogdoad cosmogony, Kuk was a frog-like god who represented darkness and chaos). Haleine, however, believed he had stumbled upon a cult that worshipped his rash and destructive son, Kor'rok. This god was represented symbolically by a man punctured by two spears, one in the mouth and one in the groin.