Cole Matthews Quotes

Matthew, exactly how psychic are you? So psychic that other psychics should be called Mattics.

This morning Jackson had told Matthew, "You mention death one more time, and I"ll knock you into next week. Comprends?" "Already been there," Matthew had answered.

Jackson asked, "Where'd the water come from in your house?" "A pipe." Then he explained to Jackson, "Water travels in pipes.

When Matthew merely stared at him, Jackson reached into the weapon box and pulled out a sheathed machete, handing it to the boy. Matthew laughed and dropped it.

Trying to draw Matthew into our conversation, I said, “Look, here’s Matthew’s.” I pointed out his card; on it, a smiling young man with an oblivious expression walked a desolate land, carrying a rucksack and a single white rose. A yapping dog nipped at his heels. Matthew tilted his head at the likeness. “In a place where nothing grows, I carry a flower. The memory of you.” I smiled at him. “That is so sweet.” He frowned. “That literally happened.” “Oh.

I’m sorry you want him,” Matthew began in a careful tone, as if he was trying very hard to say the exact right thing to me. “I feel your heart—it actually aches. I wish it didn’t, Evie. You cannot have him.” I glared down at him. “Why would you say that?” “You don’t want to be Arcana. But you are.” He gazed up at me with those soulful eyes. “Jack’s not.” “So what are you, like, a card purist or something?

I’d assumed Jack’s death was the worst that I could endure. Matthew might have been preparing me for both of their murders. Dear

So three Bagmen and a slaver go into a bar . . .” Finn began as the wails grew closer. Selena whipped her head around, hissing, “Are you serious, Magician? They’re almost here.” “What?” Finn whispered. “Just because we’re about to be swarmed by bloodthirsty zombies doesn’t mean we can’t have a laugh.” Matthew made a eureka! hand gesture. “Zomedy!” “Damn straight, Matto.

I noticed Jack wasn’t drinking, and that departure from his normal behavior concerned me as much as everything else I was seeing. He raked his hand through his hair. “Why woan you help me, boy? I told ma fille I’d be coming for her.” My girl. When his gray eyes misted wet, my heart lurched. “What the hell is he doing to her?!” Matthew, you haven’t told him I’m safe! Do it now! —Won’t lie.—

I turned to Cyclops. “You’re going to stay here with Finn and Matthew.” Talking to the animal always made me feel ridiculous (though he was smarter than most beasts—and I might actually be communicating with Lark). In CLC, the loony bin I’d been clapped up in, patients had only been allowed to watch classic shows on cable, like Lassie. I feared any second I was going to say, “What’s that, Cyclops? Timmy fell down a Prepper well?

You can tell? You always had trouble reading him.” Nod. “Three months’ practice.” “But you can’t read his future?” Matthew’s brows drew together. “Never wanted this to happen.” “Can you tell him we’re coming for him?

I didn’t bother to argue the point with him. “Will you tell me why Matthew owed you a debt?” “I kept a secret for him.” Was I finally going to discover this connection between the two? “And that would be. . . ?” “. . . not a secret if I told you.” “But he reneged.” Aric’s lips curled. “And yet I do not.” Dead end.

Jace Matthews may have shattered my heart, but Cole Maguire has rebuilt it.

Trying to draw Matthew into our conversation, I said, “Look, here’s Matthew’s.” I pointed out his card; on it, a smiling young man with an oblivious expression walked a desolate land, carrying a rucksack and a single white rose. A yapping dog nipped at his heels. Matthew tilted his head at the likeness. “In a place where nothing grows, I carry a flower. The memory of you.” I smiled at him. “That is so sweet.” He frowned. “That literally happened.” “Oh.” Finn said, “That’s just like the image I saw the first time we met. It flashed over him.” I nodded. “We all have those. They’re called tableaux.” Finn held the card up next to Matthew’s face, comparing the likeness. “You look stoned, Matto.” Matthew sighed with contentment. “Thank you.

—I told Jack.— And? Matthew sighed. —And.— What does that mean? —You’re in my eyes.— A vision began, and I saw a blur of Jack. He was frenzied, tearing at his hair as he yelled— NO, Matthew! I shook my head hard. No, I don’t want that! I’d only recently gotten my emotions under control. I wasn’t that bulletproof. It faded. —Empress?— I don’t want to see him. I can’t. I couldn’t handle any more rabbit holes! —I feel your heart; it actually aches.— The same words he’d told me on the night Jack had confessed his feelings to me.

At that, I closed my eyes. I could feel Jackson’s gaze on me, even before Matthew said —He stares. He stares. He hungers to know what’s behind your false face. The curiosity burns him.— I turned in to Matthew, wanting to hear more. False face? Is that why he looks like he hates me? —Loathe/love. Hurting/hating.—

Ogen’s drool pinged my cheek. This would be my last sight? Almost a relief when my lids slid shut and scenes flashed through my mind. I beheld Jack’s face as he’d gazed down at me in that suspended moment of time. So perfectly, I saw him. Heard him. I am home, Evangeline. Finally found the place I’m supposed to be. With my death, would Matthew tell him to stop hunting, to stop searching?

Jackson asked, “Where’d the water come from in your house?” “A pipe.” Then he explained to Jackson, “Water travels in pipes.” Jackson pushed up from his spot against the wall, clearly reaching his limit of patience. “You hit your head or something, boy?” “Jackson, please.” Another scowl from the Cajun. Then he muttered to Selena, “He’s slower than Christmas.” “Christmas,” Matthew began grandly, “is . . . slow.

I stepped out into the biting air and drizzle. Cyclops loped beside me, barking a couple of times, as if to tell me something. Slaver’s got Timmy! “Empress.” Matthew looked as bad as I felt—his face wan, his shoulders slumped with fatigue. He gazed at me with those woebegone brown eyes. “Tredici nears.” "Hey, aren’t you happy that we rescued Jack?” “I couldn’t see.” He hugged his arms around his torso, batting his fists against his parka. “The Lovers!” The lowest hum came from him. He stared down at me. “The twins—inseparable. Never parted.” “A path. You won’t like where it leads.” “I can’t steer, can’t change. Before there were waves or eddies; now stone. Our enemies laugh.” He raised his palm. “Hold, please.” “Are you talking to someone else?” Matthew was the Arcana switchboard, a medium. “To . . . Aric? Is he in your eyes?” Watching me through Matthew?

Even if you escaped this place, which is impossible,” Death said, “you would never reach her. I glanced up at Death. “So my plan should be to wait here, docile, until you murder me? Along with the rest of your lackeys?” Saying these words out loud was like a corner turned, a line crossed. One answer rang through me. Never. After my mother’s sacrifice for me, I’d be damned if I rolled over now. I owed it to her to fight. I had a new mission: self-preservation. I had to get this cuff off, so I could protect myself from Death. Sooner or later the novelty of having me here, his princess in the tower, would wear off. I needed to be ready. “Why didn’t you tell me about Jack earlier? And Matthew? Why not just torpedo me from the beginning?” “My reasons are my own. But I did warn you not to give Deveaux your innocence.” I rolled my eyes at his terminology. “Really, Father Time? And what business is it of yours anyway?

They’re just waiting for nightfall. Then you’re s.o.l., sister. There’s only one other chick in the entire camp. But she’s the chief redneck’s daughter, so they consider her off-limits, kind of f a Smurfette situation.” He exhaled, grinning up at the slats of the cage roof. “Smoking body on that one—but shy a few teeth. Still, I’d do Hickette with a flag over her face.” “Excuse me?” Matthew chuckled. “Do her for his country.” “Matthew!” I cried, frowning at him. I’d thought of him as more . . . innocent.

Maybe I . . . shouldn’t tell him what I thought I’d heard. Not until I knew more. How exactly would I put the revelation anyway? Jack’s alive, but apparently he kept that little detail secret. Ah, but Matthew spilled the beans! Buying myself time, I waved Aric on. I was scarcely listening as he began talking about Paul, of all people. How the EMT had grown worried when I’d been shut in with my grandmother for so long. How I had lost weight and become listless. The man had pleaded with me to get a checkup, even offering to source contraception after Aric and I had started sleeping together. Wait. I glanced up. “After?” Aric nodded. “He said you told him you had no need of contraception.” The hell? “I went to him and got a shot prior to us getting together. I told you about it.” “As I told him in turn, but he swears that never happened.” Real? Unreal? Had I . . . imagined my meeting with Paul? I’d already feared gaps in my memory; Gran had told me things that I’d had no recollection of. Was I now inventing memories? Had I invented Jack’s return? In a soothing voice, Aric said, “I’m not angry, love. Just talk to me.” He wasn’t the first person to look at me as if I’d gone insane, like I was trouble with the possibility of rubble. Won’t be the last. No. I refused this. I had heard Jack, and I had gotten that shot. “It did happen, which means Paul’s a liar.” But why would he lie? “I’m going to confront him.” In time. Right now, all I wanted was to hear from Matthew again. Yet I frowned as a thought occurred. “Why would you be talking to Paul about contraception?” Aric tucked my hair behind my ear. “Sievā,” he said gently, “do you not know you’re pregnant?” Tick-tock.

I jerked my head up, my tie with Jack severed. 7 “You’re early,” I told the Magician as Matthew and I climbed down. “Wanted to avoid the midnight-hour traffic.” When Cyclops padded over hesitantly, Finn grumbled, “Free fort, sit where you want!” He situated his crutch over his lap. “So an Empress, a horse, and a wolf walk into a fort. . . .” “If this is a dirty joke, I’ll pass.” I’d missed the Magician’s humor. Tilting my head at him, I said, “You don’t look so good, Finn.” “I feel like a bucket of fuck, but I’ll be ready,” he assured me. “Right, Matto?” “Ready Magician!” “H to the Azey. That army blows Baggers.” “Somehow she dragged me back to the fort.” “Good thing I’m dying young,” Finn continued in a nonchalant tone, “or I’d be shit out of luck with this bum leg.” “Dying young?” He wasn’t kidding. “Made peace with it.” He shrugged. “Kind of think we all should.” Have you guys gotten snow here yet?” I thought I’d spied a single flake the night I’d left Aric. “Not looking forward to that. SoCal surfer boy here, remember? Just think: if the snow comes down like the rain has . . .” “Snowmageddon!” Matthew cried, cracking both of them up. “Yeah, Matto, that groundhog came out to check for nuclear winter. But then a Bagger ate him!

Matthew? “Finn, what was Matthew like before he left? Did he bring supplies with him? Food?” He was always hungry. “A metric shit ton of food.” “Did he tell you good-bye before leaving?” “Kinda. You know Matto. He said a bunch of weird stuff.” “Like what?” Weird stuff from him could be critical. Finn peered at the tent roof. “He told me, ‘I see far’ and ‘the gods mark us all.’ And something like ‘All is not what it seems.’ I thought he was kind of joking around, but he didn’t laugh.” “Anything else?” Finn snapped his fingers. “Oh, oh, and right before he rode out, he caught my eye and said, ‘I’ve made peace with it.’” With what?

What are the Hanged Man’s powers?” I tried to remember more about that player. “I don’t know,” Aric admitted. “I’ve never faced him, nor seen him mentioned in any chronicles I’ve read. The Star had his icon in the last game. But did the Arcane Navigator take it himself, or harvest it from another?” Aric rotated his shot glass on his desk blotter. “The Hanged Man remains a mystery. That is why he’s called uncanny. In this game, all have been accounted for, but for him.” “Then he’s the inactivated card?” One Arcana was dormant—until he or she killed another player. “Matthew told me to beware of that player but wouldn’t reveal an identity.

Lark frowned. “I thought she was associated with fate. Her Arcana name’s Our Lady of Fate.” “As she desired it to be,” he said. “But it’s a very liberal translation.” I’d thought these Arcana things were set in stone. Now the goalposts were moving. He downed that shot, then poured another. “She appears to control fate, but she doesn’t have any influence over what happens to her. Her power is passive. She doesn’t read the future and consciously affect it—not like the Fool does.” Aric’s gaze grew distant. “Ages ago, Fortune was known more accurately as Lady Luck. The Fool was known as the Hand of Fate. She despised him for that and envied his power.

I’m sorry you want him,” Matthew began in a careful tone, as if he was trying very hard to say the exact right thing to me. “I feel your heart—it actually aches. I wish it didn’t, Evie. You cannot have him.” I glared down at him. “Why would you say that?” “You don’t want to be Arcana. But you are.” He gazed up at me with those soulful eyes. “Jack’s not.” “So what are you, like, a card purist or something?” “He’s a weakness. You use him as a crutch. When he helps, he hurts.” How could that be? He made me feel hope. “Jackson might be the only thing that’s keeping me from turning into a monster.” Matthew shot to his feet, towering over me. “Into what you were meant to be!

Climb,” Matthew said, pointing to the top of a rise. “If you want to see her.” Though we couldn’t be far from Fort Arcana, he’d insisted on stopping here. I figured this peak must be where Evie had radioed me the last time we’d spoken. Her roses covered the face. And they were still alive. So how had her flowers lived since then? I couldn’t imagine the power she must’ve used creating so many. It was almost as if she’d left part of her ability here as a generator. I swiped rain from my face. Even in the dusky light, the bright red and green were stark against the ash. “If I get myself up to the top, you’ll finally tell me how to reach her?” “Gaze out from the peak. Get a new viewpoint.

Bell Centennial’s bizarre “4” and “M” are a perfect lesson in type made specifically for its intended medium. In this case, the platform was telephone books. In 1974, AT&T asked Matthew Carter to replace their previous typeface, Bell Gothic, with something that could save costs by fitting more lines per page. To keep the type legible at tiny sizes on cheap paper, Carter made extensive use of a compensation technique called “ink trapping.” This reduces the amount of ink-spread that distorts letters by filling junctions and counters. So, what looks strange, even ugly, at large sizes, actually takes its proper form on the pulpy pages of a directory. Many capitalize on Bell Centennial’s curiosity to set eye-catching

Empress.— I tensed. Was that . . . Matthew’s voice? Why would he be in my head after all these months? How dare he contact me now! Leave me alone! A buzz in my ears grew louder and louder, like white-noise on steroids. —Have a secret. He doesn’t want me to tell you.— His eerie tone gave me chills. Aric hurried around the truck, snatching open my door. He leaned in, cradling my face in his shaking palms. He was speaking to me with dread in his eyes, but I couldn’t hear a word. Get out of my head, Fool! —Listen.— A different voice carried into my mind: —“What kind of danger is she in? Damn it, tell me! What’s coming, coo-yôn?”— I whimpered. Jack??? Is that you? He sounded so close. Blood kept pouring. My breaths shallowed till I was hyperventilating, on the verge of blacking out. But I was desperate to hear more of his voice. Jack, please answer me!

Matthew watched my eyes, as if he knew exactly what was going on in my muddled thoughts. I’d believed she would be better off going with Domīnija before I’d lost everything. Now I knew . . . if I truly loved my girl, I’d let her go. She would never be Evangeline Deveaux. We’d never see the bayou come back to life. It wouldn’t always be Evie and Jack. My eyes blurred, but nothing was wrong with my vision. I loved that fille more than my own life; this just proved it. “I’m not goan to kill you right now, no,” I told Matthew, my voice thick. “But only ’cause you’re goan to swear never to tell her I survived.” I swallowed. “As far as Evie’s concerned, I’m buried under that rock.” Coo-yôn nodded, then reached into his pack, pulling out . . . that cell phone and the tape player! Evie’s pictures, her voice. How’d he get those . . . ? Didn’t matter. The kid was giving me another crutch, right when I needed it most. God, peekôn. Noble, for the record, cuts like a blade to the heart. . . .

My vision and lungs were clearing, yet my head and my heart still suffered, ’cause I knew I was running out of time to reach my girl. Urgency clawed at me, till I thought I’d go mad. Did she remember that it’d always be Evie and Jack? That even death—or Death—couldn’t keep us apart? Would she remember how perfect it’d been between us? With her, I’d known true peace for the first time in my life. Hadn’t she? As coo-yôn and I covered miles, I’d craved that cellphone—with its pictures of Evie—and her taped recording. When I’d been separated from her before, I’d used her voice like a drug. Now I was a junkie needing a fix, but my pack had been stolen early on. Gone forever. Matthew had sourced another one for me—up was down—but it was empty. Fitting. ’Cause I was starting over with nothing. From behind the wheel, coo-yôn said, “You need her.” “Tell me something I doan know.” He frowned, taking me literally. “You don’t know the future. I see far. I see an unbroken line that stretches through eternity—and back on itself.” “Uh-huh.” Just hold on, peekôn, I’m coming.

Matthew, we need your help. What do we do?” “Look at my new kicks.” He raised one boot. “Finn said I’m ballin’ like a pimp now.” Then he frowned. “Good thing?” “Yes, yes, but—” “He took care of me when you abandoned me.” God, the guilt. In a rush, I said, “I thought you’d be safer at Finn’s than going back out on the road with me! You know how dangerous it’ll be to reach the coast.” But then, I’d believed that before I’d understood how lethal I could be. “Dangerous Empress!” “This isn’t working!” “Tapped out.” My glyphs were dark, the fuel gauge blinking E. Selena’s hand shot out and smacked my face. “What the hell?” When I raised my palm to my cheek, she slapped the other one harder. I felt my glyphs stirring. “If you don’t want these cards to die, then get to work, Evie! You need to look like the Empress of Old, slithery and creepy and sexy all at the same time.” “Touch me again, and you’ll see slithery and creepy—” With her enhanced speed, she shoved me back before I could even react. I tripped over my pack, landing on my ass. “You bitch!” I bounded up, thorn claws bared. “That’s it! Sell it, sister, or we are dead!” I gazed down at my body, at my skin glowing through the fabric of my clothes. Sharp emotions like fury and utter terror always sparked my powers; Selena had pissed me off enough to give me a jump-start. I narrowed my eyes at Matthew. “This is why you want me angry, terrified, and sad for the rainy season?” Blank smile.

Do you believe yourself in love with Deveaux?” He snarled the words. Between gritted teeth, he said, “It’s emblazoned on your pretty face. But you wouldn’t love him if you truly knew him. Your feelings would wither and die.” “What are you talking about?” “He’s lied to you repeatedly.” “Uh-huh. I’ll just take your word for it?” “No, I received my information from the Fool. He was quite worried about his Empress’s safety when you were in Deveaux’s keeping.” “You know I’ll fact-check.” “I expect you to.” “And why would you two be discussing my safety?” “I’ve been up-front about my intentions with you, unlike Deveaux. Did you never wonder about his instant infatuation with you?” “Maybe he had a thing for cheerleaders.” Death shook his head. “No, he targeted you before he ever saw you.” “That doesn’t make sense.” “You were possessed by someone he hated.” He downed another shot. “Jack despised Brand. That was no secret.” “You never asked yourself why?” “Because Brand was rich and seemed to have everything so easy.” “I’m sure that had something to do with it. However, the main reason he hated Brandon Radcliffe”—Death’s eyes had never looked so flat and dark—“was that they shared a father” “You’re saying Brand and Jackson were . . . half brothers?” Only one son had known of their connection. Was this why Jack’s eyes had darted when I’d asked him if he had any secrets? Death was relishing this. “Deveaux coveted all his brother had: the perfect family, the house, the car. The girl. He could never have any of the others—but he could have you. And he did.” “You’re lying.” You can trust me alone, Evie. “Matthew would’ve told me about this.” Death tsked. “Such trust you have in the Fool. How do you think I learned what my armor would do to your powers?” I tottered on my feet. “H-he wouldn’t!” “It’s nothing personal with him, just strategy and scheming.” I’d thought Matthew an innocent, wide-eyed boy. “The Fool knew that I’d kill you if I had no means to control you. In essence, he’s saved your life. So far, at least.” Death continued, “Deveaux didn’t even like you, but he pursued you.” “You don’t know anything!” I cried, though I could hear Jack’s words: Even when I hated you, I wanted you. “One benefit of my endless life? I have quite a grasp on human behavior.” “Maybe he did target me. But his feelings grew from that. You’ll have to do better than this.” “Do better? As you wish, creature.” With an evil grin, he said, “Deveaux killed your mother.

That is righteous, blondie! Hey, we need to come up with superhero names. How about capes—and codpieces? Just think about the idea for now, chew it over for a bit, let me know,” he said. “Hey, do you guys ever hear . . . voices?” I groaned. “All the time. I thought I was going crazy.” “Duude,” he said in agreement. “And before the Flash, all kinds of freaky shit was happening to me. I started speaking this weird language. And stuff started transforming—but only in front of me. I saw my cat walking on the ceiling, saw lava coming out of a faucet. The worst? I was doing this girl, and suddenly she looked like my gym teacher!” He shuddered. And I’d thought I had it bad. Matthew and Finn had also suffered. “What’d your parents think?” I asked, wondering if Finn had gotten institutionalized too. “Dad couldn’t handle my ‘erratic behavior’ anymore, so he pawned me off on Mom. Same result. They were just about to break out the straitjacket—or, worse, military school—when she got the brilliant idea to ship me from Malibu to North Carolina to rough it with my redneck cousins.” So Matthew and I hadn’t been the only ones deemed “damaged” by our folks. It made sense, though. I wondered what Selena’s story was. “Yeah, Mom figured they’d toughen me up mentally,” Finn said. “I can’t even make this shit up. Mental health—through the chugging of Natty Light, the chasing of hot hick ass, and the killing of ducks and bucks.

In a hushed tone, Matthew said, “Hierophant. He of the Dark Rites.” I remembered Gran warning me about him: He’s a charmer, Evie, a spellbinder. Never look him in the eyes. You are vulnerable to him. And he’s not the only one.

A man’s foes shall be they of his own household. Matthew 10:36

I have not improved in five years. Why? Because I have been cruising along on autopilot.

I stood on a rise, overlooking the plague valley. Matthew was beside me. The last thing I remembered was crawling into my sleeping bag after the whiskey had hit me like a two-by-four to the face. Now my friend was here with me. “I’ve missed you. Are you feeling better?” How much was this vision taking out of him? “Better.” He didn’t appear as pale. He wore a heavy coat, open over a space camp T-shirt. “I’m so relieved to hear that, sweetheart. Why would you bring us here?” “Power is your burden.” I surveyed all the bodies. “I felt the weight of it when I killed these people.” “Obstacles multiply.” “Which ones?” A breeze soughed over the valley. “Bagmen, slavers, militia, or cannibals?” He held up the fingers of one hand. “There are now five. The miners watch us. Plotting.” “But miners are the same as cannibals, right?” He shuffled his boots with irritation. “Miners, Empress.” “Okay, okay.” I rubbed his arm. “Are you and Finn being safe?” His brows drew together as he gazed out. “Smite and fall, mad and struck.” I looked with him, like we were viewing a sunset, a beautiful vista. Not plague and death. “You’ve told me those words before.” “So much for you to learn, Empress. Beware the inactivated card.” One Arcana’s powers lay dormant—until he or she killed another player. “Who is it?” “Don’t ask, if you ever want to know.” Naturally, I started to ask, but he cut me off. “Do you believe I see far?” He peered down at me. “Do you believe I see an unbroken line that stretches on through eternity? Centuries ago, I told an Empress that a future incarnation of hers would live in a world of ash where nothing grew. She never believed me.” I could imagine Phyta or the May Queen surveying verdant fields and crops, doubting the Fool. “Now I tell you that dark days are ahead. Will you believe me?” “I will. I do. Please tell me what will happen. How dark?” “Darkest. Power is your burden; knowing is mine.” His expression turned pleading, his soft brown eyes imploring. “Never hate me.” I raised my hands, cradling his face. “Even when I was so mad at you, I never hated you.” “Remember. Matthew knows best.” He sounded like his mom—when she’d tried to drown him: Mother knows best, son. I dropped my hands. “It scares me when you say that.” “Do you know what you really want? I see it. I feel it. Think, Empress. See far.” I was trying! “Help me, then. I’m ready. Help me see far!” “All is not as it seems. What would you sacrifice? What would you endure?” “To end the game?” His voice grew thick as he said, “Things will happen beyond your wildest imaginings.” “Good things?” His eyes watered. “Good, bad, good, bad, good, good, bad, bad, good-bye. You are my friend.

Death told me the Fool showed you a vision with ten swords in your back.” I nodded. “The ten of swords card indicates that a devastating catastrophe is headed one’s way and will strike without warning. Bingo, Matthew.” “Hmm.” “Hmm, what?” “That card is also about letting go and accepting one’s current circumstances.” Accepting that you can’t change fate. As my mom had done with my dad. “Should I let go of Jack? Like you let go of the man you lost?” She lifted one slim shoulder. “You’d already fallen for another.” “I swore revenge on Richter. How can I think of surrendering that need?” Richter, I’m . . . not coming for you? “Do you know what I fear more than marching off to die fighting him? That I might have to live with what he did.” “No one’s suggesting you give up your revenge. But what if we can’t find him for half a year? Two years? Will you cease living till then? Will you force Death to stop as well? He yearns to be a normal man. Even if just for a day. Will you not give that to him?” “I made the point to him about our limited time,” I said, still cringing at my clumsiness. “All I did was insult him.” “He wanted a wife. Not a buddy.” Was she listening to everything in the castle? “I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t know what to do.” She pinned my gaze with her own. “Therein lies the lesson of the card, Evie Greene. The lesson of life. When you can’t change your situation, you must change yourself. You must rise and walk—despite the ten swords in your back.” What was harder than dying? Living a nightmare. Mom had learned to live without Dad. I had learned to live without Mom. Could I go on without Jack? “I shouldn’t even be thinking about Aric. I disobeyed the dictates of the game, and I got Jack killed. What if I do the same to Aric?” Circe made a sound of amusement. “You always did think highly of yourself. Do you believe you had something to do with that massacre? Think logically. Richter could have reversed the order of his attacks—targeting Fort Arcana earlier, vaporizing the Magician, one of Fauna’s wolves, and the stronghold of his enemies. He could have shot at the army by helicopter afterward. Instead he targeted mortals and one player. The Moon.” My lips parted. “Because she was more of a threat to him.” “She was the only one in the area who could slay him from a distance. Richter will target the Tower as well, since Joules shares that ability,” she said. “So if we should blame any card for your mortal’s death, blame the Moon.” “I’ll never blame her.” “Yet you’ll blame yourself?” Circe shook her head, and the river swirled. “I say we blame the Emperor.” Could it be that easy? Had Richter always had Selena in his sights? If fate couldn’t be changed—then she’d been doomed to die the second we’d saved her from the Lovers.

Jace Matthews broke my heart, but it was Cole Maguire who fixed it. And Lucas? Lucas became the glue that holds us together.” - Thalia

(“—I’ll gie ye credit for simmence more if ye’ll be lymphing. Our four avunculusts.”) In this instance the “four avunculusts” are the four evangelists Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, know in Finnegans Wake as “Mamalujo.

The SEALs represented an inherent contradiction. For all their specialized training and elite capabilities, many struggled with foundational, almost rudimentary, ethical actions: to not steal, to obey authority, to tell the truth. They were ill-equipped to confront failures and the accountability that came with them.

The SEALs represented an inherent contradiction. For all their specialized training and elite capabilities, many struggled with foundational, almost rudimentary, ethical actions: to not steal, to obey authority, to tell the truth. They were ill-equipped to confront failures and the accountability that came with them.

In 2007, for example, a Gold Squadron sniper was pushed out of the unit after he killed three unarmed people—including a child—in at least two different operations. He was, nonetheless, allowed to return to the regular SEAL Teams.

To rest is a special kind of power […] It seems like anytime God is talking about salvation in the Bible, he makes a point to name rest. ‘I’ll refresh tired bodies’ (Jeremiah 31:25, MSG). ‘Find rest for your souls’ (Matthew 11:29). And, in Psalm 23:2, we have ‘He makes me lie down.’ What a peculiar answer to the valley of the shadow of death.

Blessed are they that mourn: For they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4