Notes In Messenger Quotes

Thank you,” she said as he walked her back to the Healing Center and she tried to make a note of the route so she could find the secret cafeteria again. “Tonight would’ve been... pretty rough if you hadn’t stopped by.” “I know,” he told her. “For me too.” “Awwwwwww, you guys are SO adorable,” Ro jumped in.

He turned away and his hands grabbed something. A tiny purple Albertosaurus, and the note she’d given him with it. If she could’ve felt her chest, her heart would’ve skipped a beat.

Do you have any fathomlethes around here?” “I hope you’re not talking about the weird river-pearl thing you took in Alluveterre that made you cover your walls in scraps of paper like a serial killer,” Sophie told him. “Oh I am- I know you’re not going to like it, Foster. But I remembered a ton of stuff last time. So how about I promise to let you help me sort through the notes again? Remember that? Such a classic Keephie moment!

No more notes. No more clues. She’d followed them to this point, and now it came down to her. She wasn’t the Black Swan’s puppet anymore. She was broken. All she had left was trust.

His eyes shifted to the vibrant red of her tunic—then quickly away. Sophie felt her cheeks warm. “You could’ve taken me with you, you know. Or at least left me another note telling me where you went.” They both froze.

I don’t even know what ‘Fitzphie’ is supposed to mean,” Tiergan noted.

You know that when your partner deletes their messages to a past lover after being accused of cheating, then it is likely that they were being unfaithful in some way.

Eternity is with us, inviting our contemplation perpetually, but we are too frightened, lazy, and suspicious to respond; too arrogant to still our thought, and let divine sensation have its way. It needs industry and goodwill if we would make that transition; for the process involves a veritable spring-cleaning of the soul, a turning-out and rearrangement of our mental furniture, a wide opening of closed windows, that the notes of the wild birds beyond our garden may come to us fully charged with wonder and freshness, and drown with their music the noise of the gramaphone within. Those who do this, discover that they have lived in a stuffy world, whilst their inheritance was a world of morning-glory:where every tit-mouse is a celestial messenger, and every thrusting bud is charged with the full significance of life.

Especially when Keefe tossed the note back to her and said, “Okay, I figured out our reply. Write this down, Gigantor: You may not want to meet, but we definitely do. Name a time and a place or we’ll pelt you with sparkly poo.

[I’M NOT YOUR LEGACY-BOY] Sencen NOTE: Despite numerous attempts—and lots of enhancements to registry security—the information in this file remains hopelessly altered, presumably by Keefe Sencen, who was likely given access by Dex Dizznee. Until we can figure out how they did it, we can’t seem to fix it.

I don't leave a note. There's nothing else to do. At first, I'd wanted to write Merry Christmas on the box somewhere, but I decide against it. This isn't about words. It's about glowing lights and small things that are big.

Better?” Sophie asked Bronte as Dex received a thorough Stina-dunking and Biana scrambled over and tackled her. “Not quite what I’d imagined,” Bronte noted, dodging several splats of flying mud. “But I suppose the method was still effective.

Uh-oh. You just wrung your fingers,” Sophie noted. “Nothing good ever happens when adults do that.” Elwin snorted. “She has a point.

Councillor Velia ABILITY: Guster JEWEL: Amethyst NOTE: Councillor Velia is an expert on maps. STANCE: Velia has yet to show support for Sophie and has surely voted against her.

You treated Romhilda?” “I did. And I hope I’m around if you ever call her that to her face,” Elwin noted, likely remembering how strongly Ro felt about people using her full name.

(It should also be noted that some of Biana’s returned confidence may stem from her use of one of Elwin’s Emotional Support Stuffed Animals—a stuffed yeti apparently named Lady Sassyfur.)

Though, are you sure that’s a good idea? She already escaped once.” “After thousands of years,” Tam argued. “Still seems like a problem Future You isn’t going to want to deal with,” Ro noted.

Foster and I would be having a slumber party tonight.” “No you wouldn’t,” Grady informed him. Keefe smirked. “Worried I’ll prank you?” “Definitely not what I’m worried about.” And on that note, Sophie decided it was time for another subject change.

In what also seems to be a strange contrast to her loner ways, Marella definitely has a reputation for flirting. And teasing. And generally being very open about who does and doesn’t catch her interest—as well as who she thinks her friends should or shouldn’t be interested in. Which may seem like a strange note to be including in this file. But given the particular complications of Marella’s ability, she’s likely going to have a very challenging matchmaking process—possibly even more challenging than Sophie’s. In light of that, her flirting seems suddenly significant.

In fact, he often seeks out ways to rebel against societal norms and is constantly challenging people’s expectations and forcing them to confront their biases. Dex must have inherited that attitude from his father, because he generally avoids anyone considered “popular” and finds rather creative ways to stand up to anyone judging him—or his family. (His Foxfire records show numerous detentions assigned as a result of pranks he played on prodigies bullying him—and it should be noted that those prodigies were also punished for instigating the situation. Foxfire must discipline misbehavior, but the Mentors and principal always strive to be fair.)

Is this a better solution than what you were planning?” Tinker asked Dex, with no bravado in her tone. Only curiosity. But Dex still wouldn’t look at her as he nodded. And his sigh was somewhere between a grumble and a harrumph. “You have a competitive streak, don’t you?” Tinker noted. Sophie and Mr. Forkle both said “yes” while Dex said “no.

I look through the old record collection my dad gave me. Stress relief. I shuffle through the albums feverishly and find what I'm looking for-the Proclaimers. I chuck it on and watch it spin. The ridiculous first notes of "Five Hundred Miles" come on, and I feel like going berserk. Even the Proclaimers are giving me the shits tonight. Their singing's an abomination.

We should call this one Sophitz, since—let’s face it—Foster’s the real talent when it comes to this kind of thing.” Fitz didn’t argue, but Sophie sighed. “Keefe—” “Hear that, Ro?” he interrupted. “She’s giving me her serious voice.” “And that pout she does, with the big eyes and the little crease between her eyebrows,” Ro noted. “She’s definitely figured out how to use her cuteness against you.

One side of his mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. “Sounds like that person is a genius. Probably shockingly good-looking, too.” “Eh.” She laughed when he actually looked wounded. “Oh please, you know you’re a heartbreaker. You don’t need me to tell you that.” “Hey, I have never broken any hearts.” “Maybe not intentionally. But come on. When you or Fitz start dating, there will be crying in the Foxfire halls. I bet there are girls crying now, wishing you guys hadn’t left.” “Not if they’ve heard how awesome my mom is.” “There are still just as many Keefe fangirls, trust me. Everyone loves the bad boys.” She expected some epic Keefe teasing about her use of the word “everyone.” Instead, his shoulders dropped and he asked, “So . . . you think I’m bad?” She grabbed a note that said “The Great Gulon Incident” and handed it to him. His half smile returned. “Point taken.

There’s the smile I’ve been waiting for! It’s about time, Foster! I wasn’t sure how many more biscuits I’d be able to stomach. I mean, these weren’t too bad”—he picked up the Jammie Dodgers from the stack of cookie packages piled between them—“but note to self: Next time Foster shows up out of the blue, clearly upset over something she’s been worrying about all day and yet refuses to talk about, stick with mallowmelt for the cheer-up process.

Music and dance. What I have written must surely suggest a people cursed by Heaven,... No people on earth, I am persuaded, loves music so well, nor dance, nor oratory, though the music falls strangely on my ears... More than once I have been at Mr. Treacy's when at close of dinner, some traveling harper would be called in, blind as often as not, his fingernails kept long and the mysteries of his art hidden in their horny ridges. The music would come to us with the sadness of a lost world, each note a messenger sent wandering among the Waterford goblets. Riding home late at night, past tavern or alehouse, I would hear harps and violins, thudding feet rising to a frenzy. I have seen them dancing at evening on fairdays, in meadows decreed by custom for such purposes, their bodies swift-moving, and their faces impassive but bright-eyed, intent. I have watched them in silence, reins held loosely in my hand, and have marveled at the stillness of my own body, my shoulders rigid and heavy.

Timkin Heks hailed me to help Keefe, who was having some sort of emotional meltdown (among other things). And I checked on Sophie while I was there. SYMPTOMS/INJURIES: Nothing I could find, except the usual signs that she’s been pushing herself too hard and risking her life. TREATMENT: A bunch more elixirs. And another hug! NOTES: Sophie asked me to get Keefe an Emotional Support Stuffed Animal. Gotta admire how she’s always taking care of her friends. Wish I could get her to take better care of herself!

On one such day, limping back to the home front beneath the anvil of the sun, I was accosted by my mother. "Patricia," my mother scolded, "put a shirt on!" "It's too hot," I moaned. "No one else has one on." "Hot or not, it's time you started wearing a shirt. You're about to become a young lady." I protested vehemently and announced that I was never going to become anything but myself, that I was of the clan of Peter Pan and we did not grow up. My mother won the argument and I put on a shirt, but I cannot exaggerate the betrayal I felt at that moment. I ruefully watched my mother performing her female tasks, noting herwell-endowed female body. It all seemed against my nature. The heavy scent of perfume and the red slashes of lipstick, so strong in the fifties, revolted me. For a time I resented her. She was the messenger and also the message. Stunned and defiant, with y dog at my feet, I dreamed of travel. Or running away and join the Foreign Legion, climbing the ranks and trekking the desert with my men.' p.10

Oh sure, now you want me drawing until my hands cramp! What happened to the whole ‘I could’ve helped you project your memories’ thing, with the sad eyes and the ‘Why don’t you trust me?’ I guess you’re fine with me working alone now that you found a reason to ditch me?” “The boy does make a valid point,” Ro noted. “I’m not ditching you.” “Good! Because, to quote Gigantor”—Keefe shifted his voice into an uncanny impersonation of Sandor’s squeaky tone—“I go where you go.” “I don’t sound like that,” Sandor huffed. Ro snickered. “You totally do.

(It should be noted that Elwin Heslege, who’d been assisting the family as a physician, reported seeing some improvement in Fitz’s temperament with the use of what he calls an “Emotional Support Stuffed Animal.” Elwin gifted Fitz with a sparkly stuffed red dragon, which he instructed Fitz to call Mr. Snuggles, and recommended that Fitz try hugging Mr. Snuggles whenever he was upset, or if he couldn’t sleep. Numerous reports indicate that Fitz still has Mr. Snuggles in his possession and finds a great deal of solace and comfort from his stuffed dragon.)

ULTIMATE BETRAYALS: [OH GOODY—ANOTHER SECTION ON MOMMY DEAREST. WE GET IT. SHE’S CREEPY. I DIDN’T FIGURE IT OUT FAST ENOUGH, AND SHE USED ME FOR A WHILE. BUT THAT’S ALL DONE NOW, AND IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE I TAKE HER DOWN. LET’S MOVE ON, SHALL WE?] A FOOLISHLY DANGEROUS PLAN: [I SHOULD PROBABLY BE OFFENDED BY THAT TITLE. BUT… RUNNING OFF TO JOIN THE NEVERSEEN DEFINITELY WASN’T MY SMARTEST MOVE. I THOUGHT I COULD TAKE THEM DOWN FROM THE INSIDE. AND YEAH, IT PRETTY MUCH BACKFIRED.] [I DID LEARN SOME STUFF, THOUGH!] [SORT OF…] [I’M STILL PIECING IT ALL TOGETHER. I MEAN, I WOULDN’T DO IT AGAIN OR RECOMMEND IT TO ANYONE ELSE OR ANYTHING (HEAR THAT, BANGS BOY???), BUT IT WASN’T A TOTAL WASTE.] [OKAY, MAYBE IT WAS.] A WAY WITH ALICORNS: [IT’S TRUE. GLITTER BUTT LOVES ME.] [SAY IT WITH ME: KEEFE! KEEFE! KEEFE!] EMOTIONAL SUPPORT STUFFED ANIMAL: [YOU GUYS MADE AN OFFICIAL RECORD ABOUT MRS. STINKBOTTOM???? I CAN’T DECIDE IF THAT’S AWESOME, OR REALLY, REALLY SAD.…] [SAD FOR YOU GUYS—NOT ME. SLEEPING WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL IS THE BEST. YOU SHOULD TRY IT SOMETIME!] [ALSO: DOES THIS MEAN FITZY HAS A SECTION ON HIS SPARKLY RED DRAGON SNUGGLE BUDDY????????] A MERCADIR—WITH THE SCARS TO PROVE IT: [EESH—THANK GOODNESS I CAN REDACT THIS. I REALLY DON’T NEED ANYONE REMINDING FOSTER HOW MAD SHE WAS AT ME. THE POINT IS: I BEAT THE OGRE KING IN A SPARRING MATCH. I DOUBT EVEN GIGANTOR COULD DO THAT!] FINAL NOTE: [WHY IS THERE NOT A SECTION ON MY AMAZING HAIR????] [HERE, LET ME FIX THAT FOR YOU!] [IT’S DIFFICULT TO DESCRIBE THE ABSOLUTE PERFECTION OF KEEFE’S TRADEMARK HAIRSTYLE. COUNTLESS OTHERS HAVE TRIED TO EMULATE IT, BUT THEY’VE ALL FAILED. THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE LORD HUNKYHAIR. IT’S A RESPONSIBILITY THAT MUST BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!] [HUNKYHAIR → OUT]

Or we could ask Grizel,” Biana suggested. She clearly meant it as a joke, but it was too close to the truth—and Sandor’s red-flushed cheeks gave him away. “You and Grizel?” Biana squealed. “Aaaah—that’s the cutest thing ever! How long have you been together?” “Since the attack at Havenfield,” Sophie said when Sandor was too busy scowling. Keefe reeled on her. “YOU KNEW GIGANTOR HAD A GIRLFRIEND AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?” “I think Sandor’s ready for us to change the subject,” Della noted. “Indeed, I’ve never seen a goblin blush,” Lady Cadence said, with a bigger smile than Sophie had ever seen her have.

Elwin’s records indicate that Marella is yet another of his patients to receive one of his Emotional Support Stuffed Animals (as is her mother, actually)—though Marella seems to be more secretive about her stuffed animal buddy and hasn’t mentioned its existence to her friends. Still, in the interest of thoroughness, it must be noted that Marella is the proud owner of a sparkly blue-green stuffed kelpie, which Elwin named Sir Splashyhugs. It’s even possible that Sir Splashyhugs was the first Emotional Support Stuffed Animal, since he was gifted to Marella when she was three and struggling to adjust to what happened with her mom.

Keefe mumbled “ow” several times before shouting, “YOU THINK YOU CAN HOLD M—” A loud RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP cut him off, and he shouted a bunch of words that would earn him a month of detention before a CRUNCH! left him silent. “Are you okay?” Sophie called. “I’ve been better,” Keefe groaned. “Guess I forgot to brace for the fall.” “He also forgot his pants,” the blue-cloaked figure noted. A wave of snickers followed, and Sophie realized the whole school was hiding in the mist, watching them dangle like sides of beef at the butcher shop. Keefe’s boot dangled with them, along with a shredded pair of black pants. “Oy, his boxers are covered in little banshees!” a kid shouted. “Bet he peed himself too,” another said.

Swan had used them to send Sophie messages. He fished out the tiny velvet pouch and Sophie caught herself clutching her allergy remedy necklace. She still kept the silver moonlark pin that Calla had given her attached to the cord—a reminder of the friend she’d lost, and a symbol of the role she needed to figure out how to play. “Looks like we’re good,” Sandor said, handing her the small boobrie pin—a strange black bird with bright yellow tail feathers. “Can’t imagine that means anything important.” Sophie couldn’t either. Especially since the Black Swan had been annoyingly silent. No notes. No clues. No answers during their brief meetings. Apparently they were “regrouping.” And it was taking forever. At least the Council was doing something—setting up goblin patrols and trying to arrange an ogre Peace Summit. The Black Swan should at least be . . . Actually, Sophie didn’t know what they should be doing. That was the problem with having her friend join the enemy. “There you are!” a familiar voice said behind her. “I was starting to think you’d ditched us.” The deep, crisp accent was instantly recognizable. And yet, the teasing words made Sophie wish she’d turn and find a different boy. Fitz looked as cute as ever in his red Level Five uniform, but his perfect smile didn’t reach his trademark teal eyes. The recent revelations had been a huge blow for all of her friends, but Fitz had taken it the hardest. Both his brother and his best friend had run off with the Neverseen. Alvar’s betrayal had made Fitz wary—made him doubt every memory. But Keefe’s?

How to own a smartphone and still be a functioning human being Don’t feel you always have to be there. In the not-so-olden days of letters and landlines, contacting someone was slow and unreliable and an effort. In the age of WhatsApp and Messenger it’s free and easy and instant. The flipside of this ease is that we are expected to be there. To pick up the phone. To get back to the text. To answer the email. To update our social media. But we can choose not to feel that obligation. We can sometimes just let them wait. We can risk our social media getting stale. And if our friends are friends they will understand when we need some headspace. And if they aren’t friends, why bother getting back anyway? Turn off notifications. This is essential. This keeps me (just about) sane. All of them. All notifications. You don’t need any of them. Take back control.

von Braun went looking for problems, hunches, and bad news. He even rewarded those who exposed problems. After Kranz and von Braun’s time, the “All Others Bring Data” process culture remained, but the informal culture and power of individual hunches shriveled. In 1974, William Lucas took over the Marshall Space Flight Center. A NASA chief historian wrote that Lucas was a brilliant engineer but “often grew angry when he learned of problems.” Allan McDonald described him to me as a “shoot-the-messenger type guy.” Lucas transformed von Braun’s Monday Notes into a system purely for upward communication. He did not write feedback and the notes did not circulate. At one point they morphed into standardized forms that had to be filled out. Monday Notes became one more rigid formality in a process culture. “Immediately, the quality of the notes fell,” wrote another official NASA historian.

This is a dagger,” Bo said, drawing a dark blade as long as his forearm from a sheath hidden somewhere in the back of his armor. “No, this is a dagger,” Tarina countered, pulling an even longer silver weapon from somewhere among the tangled threads of her mossy garment, with a blade that spiraled like a corkscrew. “And those are not for beginners,” Sandor argued. “Let’s also not forget that Sophie is training with her weaker hand.” “But I have Tinker’s bracelet,” Sophie reminded him. “Which improves your strength, not your coordination,” he corrected. “I’d like you to get through today’s lesson without losing any fingers. Besides, any soldier worth the air they’re breathing can fight with any weapon.” “I’d be more willing to believe you,” Sophie noted, “if you weren’t holding that.” She pointed to Sandor’s dagger, which looked more like half a sword. Tarina snorted. “I like this girl.

While the exact changes Muhammad made to this tradition are far too complex to discuss in detail here, it is sufficient to note that women in the Ummah were, for the first time, given the right both to inherit the property of their husbands and to keep their dowries as their own personal property throughout their marriage. Muhammad also forbade a husband to touch his wife’s dowry, forcing him instead to provide for his family from his own wealth. If the husband died, his wife would inherit a portion of his property; if he divorced her, the entire dowry was hers to take back to her family. As one would expect, Muhammad’s innovations did not sit well with the male members of his community. If women could no longer be considered property, men complained, not only would their wealth be drastically reduced, but their own meager inheritances would now have to be split with their sisters and daughters—members of the community who, they argued, did not share an equal burden with the men. Al-Tabari recounts how some of these men brought their grievances to Muhammad, asking, “How can one give the right of inheritance to women and children, who do not work and do not earn their living? Are they now going to inherit just like men who have worked to earn that money?” Muhammad’s response to these complaints was both unsympathetic and shockingly unyielding. “Those who disobey God and His Messenger, and who try to overstep the boundaries of this [inheritance] law will be thrown into Hell, where they will dwell forever, suffering the most shameful punishment” (4:14). If Muhammad’s male followers were disgruntled about the new inheritance laws, they must have been furious when, in a single revolutionary move, he both limited how many wives a man could marry and granted women the right to divorce their husbands.

Nah, you’re realizing I’m the total package. Beauty and brains—” “And super modest,” she noted. “Exactly! And, because my amazingness knows no bounds, I even come bearing presents!” He pulled a box of Prattles from his cape pocket with a dramatic flourish. “Today you’re getting my brilliant lesson and candy!” He tore open the box and fished out the tiny satchel, dumping the collectible pin into his hand. “Cool—the Prattles kraken! I’ve always wanted one of those!” He held up the tiny replica of the giant sea monster. “Remember when the Black Swan had us leap under the ocean and that kraken wanted to eat us?” “Kinda hard to forget,” Sophie told him. “And you can keep the pin.” “Uh-uh, it’s yours.” “But you want it.” “And I want you to have it! So how about we call him ours? We’ll name him Krakie, and he can live right here.” He pointed to the bandage covering her right hand. “That way Krakie can protect you from the echo—not that you need protection. He’ll just be your backup.

I’ll let that go,” Ro told him, “if you tell me what it was like in my father’s head.” Fitz let out a relieved breath. “Fluffy.” “Like sinking into a giant marshmallow covered in feathers,” Sophie agreed. Ro choked on her laugh. “Okay, I need to figure out how to blackmail him with that.” “Maybe you can get him to reassign Bo,” Sophie suggested. “Yeah, that’s never going to happen. Once my father gets an idea in his head, he can’t let it go.” “What kind of idea?” Keefe asked. “The kind that involves smooching and weddings and little baby prince and princess BoRos?” “Dude, she is seriously going to stab you,” Fitz warned. “No, I’m thinking I’ll tunnel us deep underground and leave him in a dark little hole for a few days,” Ro corrected. “Just him and some of my favorite bacteria.” “Sounds like the perfect place to add more verses to The Ballad of Bo and Ro,” Keefe noted. “He really doesn’t know when to quit, does he?” Ro asked Sophie. “I’m pretty sure it’s a disease,” Fitz told her. “Coping mechanism,” Keefe argued.

In the meantime, I need you to return to your session, Mr. Sencen. I realize elvin history isn’t your favorite subject, but it’s crucial that you attend, both for a better understanding of our world, and to prove you’re committed to your education.” Keefe snorted. “We all know that’s not true.” Magnate Leto ignored him. “I’ve spoken to Lady Sanja, and she’ll have an exam ready for you when you arrive, covering the lectures you’ve missed recently.” “Please, like I need to be tested.” Keefe tapped the side of his head. “I skimmed through the reading material on the first day. Photographic memories are so handy that way.” “I’m glad to hear it. But it won’t help you with the notes I expect you to take during the lecture Lady Sanja will give once you’ve completed the exam. I’ll be checking them in this afternoon’s study hall.” “Aw, come on, Leto,” Ro whined. “I can’t take another speech on how the world would be lost if you guys hadn’t started bossing everyone around. I swear, for such a scrawny species, your egos are out of control!

The Black Swan convinced Sophie that they could “fix” her. So she flew across the ocean with Silveny (and Keefe) to have her abilities reset. And after that nightmare, a bunch of cloaked enemies attacked. SYMPTOMS/INJURIES: WHERE DO I EVEN START? THE BLACK SWAN GAVE HER AN ENTIRE OUNCE OF LIMBIUM AND THEN INJECTED HER WITH SOME MYSTERIOUS REMEDY SO SHE WOULDN’T DIE—AND THEN THE SAME CREEPS WHO KIDNAPPED HER NEARLY KILLED HER AGAIN!!! TREATMENT: According to this Mr. Forkle person (who I have quite a few things I’d love to say to), I was only allowed to clean Sophie’s wounds for the next twenty-four hours—no giving her elixirs or serums because they could mess with her “reset.” NOT EVEN ANY PAINKILLERS. UPDATE: As soon as that twenty-four hours was up, I gave her all the medicine she could safely handle. NOTES: There’s a bruise on Sophie’s hand from where the Black Swan injected their “remedy.” Pretty sure it’s going to scar. But… I think the reset did fix the issues she’s been dealing with. It also appears she can teleport. (Don’t know why I’m even surprised.)

I’d just settled into bed when Sophie hailed me. Somehow she hurt herself bottling starlight for her Universe assignment. (Always an adventure with this girl!) SYMPTOMS/INJURIES: Major burns with blackish, purplish blisters. Looked super painful. Glad she set aside her fears and hailed me. TREATMENT: I started with my strongest burn salve mixed with painkiller and a Youth soak. But her skin still looked raw, so I ran home for something a little more extreme. (I figured Sophie wouldn’t want to know that her hands were covered in yeti pee, so I left out that detail—but I did warn her to wash her hands thoroughly.) NOTES: I also wrapped up the starlight to make sure she couldn’t hurt herself again. Weird thing was, it felt cold—not hot. And I’ve never seen light like that before—or heard of UPDATE: Sophie stopped by early (I think she didn’t want her friends to see her in the Healing Center again), and her hands looked perfect! But I still gave her one more elixir, just to be safe. ADDITIONAL NOTES: In the category of Proof That Things Keep Getting Weirder Around Here, a couple of Councillors showed up and asked me a billion questions—and made me black out the star’s name from this record. Pretty sure I know what that means.…

While the above term may seem too gimmicky for a subheading in an official file, it’s truly the best word to describe the strange relationship dynamic between Tam and Keefe Sencen. The two boys are decidedly not friends—in fact, reports suggest they disliked each other almost immediately (and the nicknames they use for each other range from the clever and witty to downright mean-spirited). Some suspect it’s because Tam violated Keefe’s privacy and read Keefe’s shadowvapor without his permission when they first met, while others would argue it’s because Keefe refused to have his shadowvapor read as though he had something to hide. Others still might suggest it’s actually because the two have quite a bit in common—but prefer to think of themselves as uniquely alone in their challenges and principles. Whatever the cause, it’s doubtful that Tam and Keefe will ever truly be friends. But it’s important to note that they have never appeared to truly be enemies, either—a fact that became increasingly vital when Tam was taken by the Neverseen and Keefe’s mom (Lady Gisela) forced him to use his ability on her son. Had there been true ill will between the boys, Tam wouldn’t have attempted to warn Keefe about what his mom was planning—and Keefe would’ve tried to harm Tam in their final showdown.

The last name made Ro unleash an impressive string of ogre curses. “I take it that means you know the guy?” Keefe asked. Sophie could see every one of Ro’s pointed teeth when she said, “I do.” “And?” Keefe pressed. “It’s none of your business,” Ro snapped back. “Pretty sure it is, since Foster’s supposed to trust him with her life,” Keefe argued. Ro muttered a few more creative words under her breath. “Bo’s a loyal Mercadir. That’s not the issue.” “You call him Bo?” Keefe noted as Sophie asked, “Then what’s the issue?” Ro ignored both of them. “Stay here,” she told Keefe, “and don’t even think about leaving until I return.” “Where are you going?” Elwin called as she headed for the exit. “To throttle my father.” The door slammed hard enough to shake the walls, and Sophie, Keefe, and Elwin all shared a look. “Yeah . . . we definitely need to get the story on Bo and Ro,” Keefe decided. Sophie nodded. “Do you think they dated?” “Ohhhhhhhh, now I do! And I’ve been trying to get dirt like that on Ro since she got here!” He cracked his knuckles. “Okay, this is going to call for some epic-level snooping—and if that doesn’t work, I guess I know what my next bet will be!” “No more betting,” Elwin warned. “At least not on my watch. And today’s lesson better be chaos-free or I’m nixing these little sessions.” “Aw, we can’t have that. Foster would miss me too much. Who knew the way to her heart was my mad teaching skills?

They’ll also have an extensive amount of makeup work to tackle during the midterm break—and no, that option is not available to you, so don’t ask and don’t test my patience. I can become very creative with my punishments if you force me to.” “See, but now you’ve got me curious,” Keefe told him. “Uh-uh,” Ro jumped in. “I have to suffer through this stuff with you.” “You do,” Magnate Leto agreed. “And I found an entire room filled with recordings of speeches from the Ancient Councillors that I think you’ll find particularly enjoyable.” Ro grabbed Keefe’s arm and hauled him toward the door. “We’re going to your session, and you’re acing that test and taking lots of notes or I will hang a banner in the middle of this campus—and we both know what I will have that banner say!” “Bo and Ro 4 Eva?” Keefe guessed, because he clearly had a death wish. “That’s it!” Ro picked him up, hefting him over her shoulder and trudging toward the door. “We’ll be back after study hall.” “You’ll be back tomorrow,” Magnate Leto corrected. “Lord Cassius is expecting you both to be home immediately after school—and I wouldn’t recommend disobeying.” “Why not?” Sophie asked. “He was in . . . a mood.” “Goody! Raise your hand if you’re jealous of my life!” Keefe said, twisting in Ro’s grasp to survey the room. “No takers?” “Don’t worry,” Ro told him, patting his back as she carried him into the hall. “I’ll sneak your dad some amoebas tonight.

Dex squinted at the palace. “Their queen is a white-haired lady, right? I think I saw some pictures of her when I was researching about the cameras.” “Yeah, Queen Elizabeth,” Sophie said. “I don’t know much about her. Just that she likes little dogs and wears a lot of hats. And I think that flag means she’s actually here right now.” She pointed to the red, gold, and blue standard flying from a pole in the center of the palace, instead of the British Union Jack. “Same with the fact that there are four of those guys instead of two.” She nudged her chin toward the four members of the queen’s guard, standing stolid and motionless in what appeared to be narrow blue houses. The soldier’s faces looked blank, but Sophie had no doubt their eyes were seeing everything, and it made her hope the obscurer was keeping them hidden—especially when she noticed their guns. “So wait—the dorky guys in the red coats with the big furry hats are important?” Dex asked, covering his mouth to block a giggle. “And you had the nerve to complain about our Foxfire uniforms!” “Hey—I never had to wear anything like that. That’s strictly a British soldier thing!” “Soldier?” Dex repeated, frowning at the guards. “So… is that uniform supposed to be intimidating? Because I feel like if a dude marched up to an army of ogres wearing that, he’d mostly get laughed at.” “Goblins definitely wouldn’t be able to suppress their snickers,” Sandor noted, his lips twitching with a smile.

VIOLATION SERIOUSNESS SENTENCE PRINCIPAL’S COMMENTS DESTRUCTION OF ACADEMY PROPERTY According to a report from Miss Foster, Mr. Sencen set off a device in my office, shattering the majority of the windows in the glass pyramid. 20 out of 10 None. Mr. Sencen remains absent, making punishment difficult to issue. And this does appear to confirm his involvement with the Neverseen. But I suspect there’s more to the story. —Magnate Leto Update: The glass pyramid has been rebuilt. Foxfire is also teaming up with Exillium for skill lessons. And Mr. Sencen has yet to return to campus. The Council is pressuring me to expel him, but I see no reason, (particularly since everyone should be focusing on the upcoming Peace Summit in Lumenaria). —Magnate Leto VIOLATION SERIOUSNESS SENTENCE PRINCIPAL’S COMMENTS Second Update: Foxfire’s midterm break was extended after the tragedy in Lumenaria, and… I’m grateful to have the time to adjust. There’s so much to do… and I’ll be so much more limited now.… But I’ll find a way to manage. In the meantime, it should be noted that when the academy resumes sessions, Mr. Sencen will be returning, and no disciplinary action will be taken against him. —Magnate Leto Third Update: Sessions still haven’t resumed. But Miss Foster brought Mr. Sencen to see Elwin for treatment after Mr. Sencen received several serious wounds during a sparring match with King Dimitar. Apparently, one result of the match is that Keefe will now have Princess Romhilda serving as his bodyguard, which will likely cause tension on campus. Preparations will need to be made. —Magnate Leto

You don’t want this butterblast, do you?” He took a huge bite of a round, golden pastry topped with giant sugar crystals. If it weren’t for her injuries, she would’ve leaped out of bed and wrestled it away from him. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you a bite. But first you need to go one solid hour without your stomach growling. So ignore me”—he took another giant bite of the butterblast—“and focus on Krakie. Or you can focus on Krakie’s new buddies.” He set three Prattles pins on her tray—a jaculus, a kelpie, and a sasquatch. “Meet Bitey, Scaley Butt, and The Stink—your new bandage buddies! We need to figure out the perfect place to put them. I think Scaley Butt should be near Krakie so it looks like they’re swimming together. And then Bitey could be close to The Stink so it looks like he’s trying to chomp him.” “You’re a very strange person, you know that?” she asked as he pinned the new creatures in place. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘awesome.’ I’m an awesome person—who stopped you from thinking about how hungry you are for, like, five minutes.” “And then reminded me,” Sophie noted with a stomach growl. “Oops. Well . . . okay, your new hour starts now!” It was a very long afternoon. But it was worth it when Keefe gave her the last bite of butterblast, which was chewy like a doughnut but tasted like pancakes hot off the griddle and was filled with some sort of thick, maple-y cream. It was quite possibly the most amazing thing she’d ever put in her mouth—and that was saying something, considering she lived in a world with mallowmelt and custard bursts and ripplefluffs and pudding puffs. “If you want another,” Keefe told her, “you’re going to have to let Ro carry you with me into the secret cafeteria.” “Not happening,” Elwin warned. Keefe smirked. “Keep telling yourself that.

The Messenger Ritual 1. Sit down and relax completely. Let your mind wander and your thinking flow without restraint. After a while, begin to repeat to yourself, ‘Now I am relaxed, and I am in the deepest kind of sleep.’ 2. When you feel that your mind is no longer concerned with anything, imagine a billow of fire to your right. Make the flames lively and brilliant. Then quietly say, ‘I order my subconscious to show itself. I order it to open and reveal its magic secrets.’ Wait a bit, and concentrate only on the fire. If an image appears, it will be a manifestation of your subconscious. Try to keep it alive. 3. Keeping the fire always to your right, now begin to imagine another billow of fire to your left. When the flames are lively, say the following words quietly: ‘May the power of the Lamb, which manifests itself in everything and everyone, manifest itself also in me when I invoke my messenger. (Name of messenger) will appear before me now. 4. Talk with your messenger, who should appear between the two fires. Discuss your specific problems, ask for advice, and give him the necessary orders. 5. When your conversation has ended, dismiss the messenger with the following words: ‘I thank the Lamb for the miracle I have performed. May (name of messenger) return whenever he is invoked, and when he is far away, may he help me to carry on my work.’ Note: On the first invocation – or during the first invocations, depending on the ability of the person performing the ritual to concentrate – do not say the name of the messenger. Just say “he.” If the ritual is well performed, the messenger should immediately reveal his name telepathically. If not, insist until you learn his name, and only then begin the conversation. The more the ritual is repeated, the stronger the presence of the messenger will be and the more rapid his actions.

TERMS AND CONDITIONS Sketches and Comps Fee quoted includes ____ preliminary concepts / sketches; additional concepts / sketches are $ _______ each. Final Artwork Fee quoted includes one set of final mechanical artwork. Changes to final artwork will be provided at an additional cost based on the extent and complexity of the changes, at $ ___ per hour or a mutually agreed upon fee, TBD. Rights Upon full payment of all fees and costs, the following rights to the use of the designs and/or artwork transfer to Client, as noted: Credit Unless otherwise agreed, Designer shall be accorded a credit line on all published, printed material, to read as follows: Overtime Fees quoted are based upon work performed during the course of regular working hours (based on a ____ hour week). Overtime, rush, holiday, and weekend work necessitated by Client’s directive is billed in addition to the fees quoted at $ ____ per hour or a mutually agreed upon fee, TBD. Change Orders Work change orders will be issued for additional work and changes requested after approvals or commencement of work. WCO’s include a description of the change/addition requested, estimated additional costs, and changes to work schedules/project completion. Client’s signature is required on WCO’s to proceed with changes/additions. Billable Items In addition to the fees and costs estimated herein, costs incurred for outside services (TBD), messengers, and courier services are billable (at cost __; with a markup of __ percent). Wherever applicable, state and local sales taxes will be included in Billable Items. Travel expenses are billed additionally, at cost.

Remember that the Bennu bird came from Arabia, and this is where the black stone -which is the cornerstone of the Kaaba- exists on Earth. Most of the pyramidia which were discovered in ancient Egypt were made of black granite. The ancient Egyptian symbolism tried to reproduce Adam's heritage according to the same theme and yet on its own location and for its own bloodline aspiring thereby to assume the role of Noah's heir. The sole function of the black capstone/cornerstone was to pinpoint/receive the Messenger with the tidings which he carried; once that role was fulfilled, the stone was rendered operative only on the parallel domain of authority (i.e., Solar System and/or Political) and no more as a portal to the perpendicular (i.e., Upper Heavens). It is significant to note also that the root of the word 'Phoenix' in Arabic is the same root that delivers the word 'Ankh' and 'Enki'. The Babylonian Nabu (the son of Marduk) was in Sumerian times identified with Enki, and it is a straightforward observation to acknowledge the Semitic word 'Nabu' for what it means, i.e., Prophet. It gets even more interesting when one sees what happened to ancient Egypt once heresy broke out after waiting for so long and eventually giving up on seizing the Bennu bird exclusively for Egypt's cause: The Ankh is "finally" received by the heretic Pharaoh Akhenaten and his family through the veneration of Aten. Prior to Amenhotep IV, the sun disk served as a symbol in which major gods appeared, however, from that point on, it was the disk itself that became a god and obviously it was powerful enough to send its own prophets and tidings as one observes in the depictions of that dynasty. After all, it was an Eighteenth Dynasty ruler who succeeded in evicting the Semite Hyksos out of Egypt. [The final expulsion of the Hyksos from Egypt by Ahmose I, most probably took place by this pharaoh of the 18th dynasty, Thebes once again became the central capital of Egypt. There was no distinct break in the line of the royal family between the 17th and 18th dynasties.] This is most interestingly the time when [the New Kingdom marked a period of high-quality Shabtis (i.e., answerers). Especially during the 18th and 19th dynasties. Ahmose I, was probably the first pharaoh to take Shabtis with him into the tomb.] It is now obvious that when the Upper Heavens didn't answer Egypt, the Shabtis and Ankhs started to.

Hello all, Why must we be confused by all this online scammers when we all know that there has never been any other oracle apart from the the great spell casters called lama lama oracle temple, The great oracle and also i my self called kuq ya that is greatest of all, Kuq ya means GREATEST AMONG ALL THE SPELL CASTERS. This oracle has been in existence for so many years even before i was born i inherited it from my great grand father. Since we have been existing we have never failed in solving any kind of problem anyone must have been having cos we know the spirits that we serve we never lets us down, We perform various sacrifice to this spirits from time to time to make our powerful and doings effective. This temple is out on the internet to tell all of you that is wasting your time and also your hard earned money dealing with all this hungry souls that called themselves spell casters by bring cause to themselves by claiming to be what they are not, We advise you all that you should stop it as it is not right to do such, Because those spell casters that called themselves different names / temples are scammers,You will do this greatest oracle good by doing that.They are scammers and all those testimony there are posted by them also and not the people they have help,They are doing all this to get money to fed there-self and there family members !!! BE WARNED ALL OF YOU THAT NEED HELP FROM SPELL CASTERS AS IT IS BECAUSE OF ALL OF YOU WE HAVE DECIDED TO COME ONLINE TO REDUCE AND STOP ALL THIS FAKE SPELL CASTERS, AS WE GOT PERMISSION FROM THE FBI !!.. I have made so many of them online that are spoiling this great temple good work go back to the sea and some blind. I am Dr Kuq Ya the messenger to the great oracle of Nigeria,Indian,Indonesia,Singapore,UK,USA,Uganda,japan,Spain,Germany,Paris,Dubai,South Africa. To mention but a few..We are know well there as the great temple that has helped them get many of there ANCESTRAL problems solve in recent times. But we are also extending this great offer to those that have any kind of problem, when i mean any kind of problem i mean any problem at all you might be having in this life,Such as getting your lover back,you want to be rich, you feel like using charms on someone to get something you like from him or her or getting your scam many back, wining a lottery, to mention but a few. KUQ YA IS HERE FOR YOUR SERVICES AND PLEASE STOP DEALING WITH THOSE SO CALLED SPELL CASTERS THAT HAVE REALLY MESSED UP THIS WORK ONLINE. I HAVE NEVER BEEN ONLINE,BUT THE PRESIDENTS OF THE ABOVE COUNTRIES CALLED ME ON PHONE AND ALSO PERSONALLY HOLD A MEETING AND THEY ASK ME THE MESSENGER TO START ADVERTING AND TELL ALL ABOUT THIS GREATEST ORACLE THAT IS SO DURABLE, PERFECT, MARVELOUS, AND GOOD WORKS TO AVOID THIS SCAMMING THAT IS GOING ON ONLINE. I WILL BE ENDING HERE NOW, IF YOU HAVE ANYTHING BOTHERING YOUR MIND AND YOU NEED PERMANENT SOLUTION TO IT WITHOUT ANY SIDE EFFECT OR HARM, KINDLY SEND AN EMAIL TO THE FOLLOWING EMAIL ADDRESS: great.spellcaster@yahoo.com Thanks and may the spirits guide you to read and understand what i said and also we will be awaiting response from you all that have problems that want it solve at once.Thanks for your patronage as you come. To enhance fast communication, Kindly send down your Name : Country: State: Address: More about the kind of help you want here: Phone number: Age: Gender : Job: and any other information's you know it will be so helpful on the kind of work and help you wish for here. Because we solve any kind of problem in this life. NOTE : MY GMAIL ACCOUNT IS NOW BAD AS YOU CAN ONLY GET ME ON THIS EMAIL : great.spellcaster@yahoo.com. So don't contact me via me gmail account. And also our spell casting here has no side effect, As it is just to grant you your heart desires without any problem.

learned this last lesson while checking out Mercury’s temple after my delicious and nutritious breakfast. Compared to the dinky shrines of the minor gods and goddesses, Great-Granddad’s place isn’t too shabby. A rectangular structure with marble columns all around the outside, an ornate fresco above the entrance, and inside, a life-size statue of the god himself. The weird thing happened when I approached the altar. Someone had put two message bins there in honor of Mercury’s role as messenger to the gods. The bin marked OUTGOING was overflowing with notes, but the INCOMING one was empty, a sad reminder that our communications have flatlined. Still, I added a note of my own to the outbox. Just a little Hey, Great-Granddad, what’s the word from Olympus? I was about to leave when I heard a fluttering sound. A piece of paper had appeared in the INCOMING bin. Written on it was the Roman numeral twelve—XII—and nothing else.

3:179 Allah would not leave the believers in that [state] you are in [presently] until He separates the evil from the good. Nor would Allah reveal to you the unseen. But [instead], Allah chooses of His messengers whom He wills, so believe in Allah and His messengers. And if you believe and fear Him, then for you is a great reward.

3:131 And fear the Fire, which has been prepared for the disbelievers. 3:132 And obey Allah and the Messenger that you may obtain mercy. 3:133 And hasten to forgiveness from your Lord and a garden [i.e., Paradise] as wide as the heavens and earth, prepared for the righteous

3:48 And He will teach him writing and wisdom[140] and the Torah and the Gospel 3:49 And [make him] a messenger to the Children of Israel, [who will say], 'Indeed I have come to you with a sign from your Lord in that I design for you from clay [that which is] like the form of a bird, then I breathe into it and it becomes a bird by permission of Allah. And I cure the blind [from birth] and the leper, and I give life to the dead – by permission of Allah. And I inform you of what you eat and what you store in your houses. Indeed in that is a sign for you, if you are believers. 3:50 And [I have come] confirming what was before me of the Torah and to make lawful for you some of what was forbidden to you. And I have come to you with a sign from your Lord, so fear Allah and obey me. 3:51 Indeed, Allah is my Lord and your Lord, so worship Him. That is the straight path.'" 3:52 But when Jesus felt [persistence in] disbelief from them, he said, "Who are my supporters for [the cause of] Allah?" The disciples said, "We are supporters for Allah. We have believed in Allah and testify that we are Muslims [submitting to Him]. 3:53 Our Lord, we have believed in what You revealed and have followed the messenger [i.e., Jesus], so register us among the witnesses [to truth]." 3:54 And they [i.e., the disbelievers] planned, but Allah planned. And Allah is the best of planners.

But when she looked closer she realized they were from Jolie’s early levels. Pages of boring lecture notes from elvin history and multispeciesial studies—many with doodles in the margins of a boy who looked like the photos she’d seen of Brant. There were stacks of sketchbooks, too, filled with gorgeous renderings of landscapes, and creatures, and other prodigies at school. Sophie had never realized Jolie was so talented—and she’d never realized she was a Conjurer. But she found The Elemental Guide to Conjuring and Translocation with worn pages covered in hundreds of notes written in Jolie’s loopy writing.

They’ll have to keep their faces very close together,” Mr. Forkle noted. “Foster and I volunteer!” Keefe shouted. “Uh, if anyone’s going to share with Sophie it should be me,” Dex argued. “Wait, why do I have to share?” Sophie asked. “Yeah, I nominate Dex and Keefe,

Fitz moved closer to Sophie, his new cologne tickling her nose as he whispered, “I almost forgot. I brought you a present.” Her heart skipped at least five beats when he slipped an orange velvet satchel into her palm. He’d been bringing her lots of tiny gifts lately—and she’d been trying hard not to read too much into it. “Ugh, anyone else ready to vomit from the Fitzphie?” Keefe asked. “I am,” Dex said, as Linh asked, “Did Fitzphie become an actual thing?” “I don’t even know what ‘Fitzphie’ is supposed to mean,” Tiergan noted. “Want me to explain it?” Tam offered. “No,” Sophie said,

It was either that or strap him down to one of the cots so he’d stop all the frantic pacing,” Elwin explained, adjusting her pillow to prop her head up a little more. “I would’ve voted for that,” Tam noted. Sophie sighed. Tam and Keefe had been feuding since the moment they’d met—even though they were so similar it was kind of hilarious.

night, I got home and Clay stood in the kitchen cooking dinner for two.  I had to suppress the happy-dance I wanted to do and, instead, nonchalantly walked by him.  A note on the table from Rachel explained she had gone out with Peter and would be back late.  The note stressed alone. Since Clay’s last appearance, I’d thought of several questions to ask him—starting with his teeth—and hoped he wouldn’t get annoyed and go fur on me again.  I decided to ease him into my agenda. “Wow, I didn’t know you cooked.  It smells great.”  I set my messenger bag on a chair and hovered behind him, watching him work. He pulled baked potatoes from the oven.  To the side, two plates waited with steaming chicken breasts.  Seeing dinner almost ready, I grabbed flatware for us and sat down. “So, other than cooking, how did you keep yourself busy today?” He set a plate in front of me and sat down.  He pointed to the last batch of books I’d brought home that he had piled neatly on the table between us. “You read them all already?” He nodded. “That’s a lot to read in just five days.  Are you skipping chapters?” I teased. He glanced up at me then back down at his food.  Maybe I needed to work on my teasing.  I supposed smiling would have helped. “So,

Transparency and the rule of law will be the touchstones of this administration,” President Obama declared back in 2009. Rarely has there been a greater gap between what a politician said and what he did. Indeed, in the mold of Richard Nixon, the White House asserted dubious claims of executive privilege to avoid scrutiny in the Fast and Furious scandal. But Obama is publicly oblivious to the contradictions. At a media awards dinner in March 2016, President Obama scolded the press for enabling a candidate like Donald Trump and suggested it had a greater responsibility than to hand someone a microphone. But as far as Jake Tapper on CNN was concerned “the messenger was a curious one.” He succinctly reviewed the Obama administration’s deplorable record on transparency and openness and concluded: “Maybe, just maybe, your lecturing would be better delivered to your own administration.” Speaking with some passion, Tapper told his viewers: “Many believe that Obama’s call for us to probe and dig deeper and find out more has been made far more difficult by his administration than any in recent decades. A far cry from the assurances he offered when he first took office.” Tapper noted that Obama promised to run the “most transparent administration in history.” “Obama hasn’t delivered,” ProPublica reporter Justin Elliott wrote in the Washington Post in March 2016. “In fact, FOIA has been a disaster under his watch.” Elliott went on to write: Newly uncovered documents (made public only through a FOIA lawsuit) show the Obama administration aggressively lobbying against reforms proposed in Congress. The Associated Press found last year that the administration had set a record for censoring or denying access to information requested under FOIA, and that the backlog of unanswered requests across the government had risen by 55 percent, to more than 200,000. A recent analysis found the Obama administration set a record of failing nearly 130,000 times to respond to public records requests under the Freedom of Information Act.1 Tapper closed his broadcast by quoting former Washington Post executive editor Leonard Downie, who helped break the Watergate scandal and said in 2013 that Obama had the “most aggressive” administration toward the press since Richard Nixon.

The Prophetic Sunnah makes clear the Glorious Qur’an. Consequently, the Law of Islam (1) never is practised without the Prophetic Sunnah. For example, we, as Muslims, did not know how to perform the Prayers from the Glorious Qur’an, but we learnt how to perform the Prayers from the Prophetic Sunnah. It was the guidance for us. The Muslims always say: The Messenger of Allah ﷺ has spoken the truth. Allah said in the Qur’anic verse: (Nor does he speak from (his own) inclination It is not but a revelation revealed) (2) [Surah An-Najm: 3, 4]. __________ (1) The Islamic Shari'ah. (2) The Qur’an (English Meanings and Notes by Saheeh International), Al-Azhar Ash-Sharif, Islamic Research Academy, General Department for Research, Writing & Translation.

Ugh, anyone else ready to vomit from the Fitzphie?” Keefe asked. “I am,” Dex said, as Linh asked, “Did Fitzphie become an actual thing?” “I don’t even know what ‘Fitzphie’ is supposed to mean,” Tiergan noted. “Want me to explain it?” Tam offered. “No,” Sophie said,

And I turned, and lifted up my eyes, and looked, and, behold, there came four By chariots here, as by horses before, he means the swift messengers of God to execute and declare his will. chariots out from between By the mountains he means the external counsel and providence of God, by which he has from before all eternity declared what will come to pass, and that which neither Satan nor all the world can alter. two mountains; and the mountains [were] mountains of brass. 2 In the first chariot [were] Which signifies the great cruelty and persecution that the Church had endured under different enemies. red horses; and in the second chariot Signifying that they had endured great afflictions under the Babylonians. black horses; 3 And in the third chariot These represented their state under the Persians, who restored them to their liberty. white horses; and in the fourth chariot Which signified that God would sometimes give his Church rest, and pour his plagues upon their enemies, as he did in destroying Nineveh and Babylon, and other of their enemies. spotted and bay horses.

LEVEL TWO VIOLATION SERIOUSNESS SENTENCE PRINCIPAL’S COMMENTS DITCHING ELVIN HISTORY According to a report from the gnomes, Keefe was found hiding near the Leapmaster during the morning session. 1 out of 10 Warning issued. I let Keefe off with a warning because he’s never caused problems before. (He also did extraordinarily well on his midterms.) He’s a year younger than his peers, so occasional moments of immaturity are natural—but I gave him a lecture on setting a positive example and he looked inspired when he returned to his session. —Dame Alina VIOLATION SERIOUSNESS SENTENCE PRINCIPAL’S COMMENTS DITCHING THE UNIVERSE According to a report from the gnomes, Keefe was found napping near the main amphitheater during afternoon session. 2 out of 10 Note sent home. Clearly the warning I gave Keefe yesterday wasn’t enough, so I sent a note to Candleshade to apprise his parents of the situation. Lord Cassius assured me he’d correct the problem. —Dame Alina VIOLATION SERIOUSNESS SENTENCE PRINCIPAL’S COMMENTS DISRUPTING STUDY HALL According to a report from Sir Bubu, Fitz Vacker began emitting gaseous noises and had to race to the bathroom. Keefe then took credit for slipping Gurgle Gut into Fitz’s lunch. Fitz didn’t seem upset. He claimed it was a prank (instead of a case of bullying). But the other prodigies were thoroughly distracted. 4 out of 10 One detention assigned. Perhaps allowing Keefe to skip Level One was a mistake—though his Mentors claim he continues to excel in their sessions. Still, that doesn’t excuse disrespectful behavior! I reminded Keefe that he could end up expelled if he continues down this path—and asked Elwin to make tomorrow’s detention particularly unpleasant to serve as a wake-up call. Elwin said he’ll have the prodigies refill vials of pooka pus, which should make Keefe regret his recent life choices. —Dame Alina VIOLATION SERIOUSNESS SENTENCE PRINCIPAL’S

VIOLATION SERIOUSNESS SENTENCE PRINCIPAL’S COMMENTS Third Update: According to a report from Elwin, Mr. Sencen was involved in the recent destruction in the Healing Center—but apparently it happened during a skill lesson that went awry. For that reason, I’m simply noting the incident here, rather than creating a disciplinary report. It should also be noted that Mr. Sencen brought Miss Foster to the Mentors’ private cafeteria for butterblasts. —Magnate Leto VIOLATION SERIOUSNESS SENTENCE PRINCIPAL’S COMMENTS DISRUPTING LUNCHTIME According to a report from Lady Galvin, a number of prodigies began emitting unpleasant gaseous noises midway through the lunch break and had to race to various bathrooms. No proof has been recovered, but the general consensus is that Mr. Sencen slipped Gurgle Gut into their lunches. 5 out of 10 One week of detention assigned. As far as I can surmise, every prodigy affected by Mr. Sencen’s prank had recently been gossiping about (or hassling) Mr. and Miss Vacker about their eldest brother—which is why I’m limiting his detention to a week. I cannot allow such behavior to go unpunished. But I refuse to deny the motivation. —Magnate Leto Update: Foxfire has been placed on an extended hiatus after the traumatic events during the Celestial Festival. Sessions will resume as soon as the Council determines that it is safe to do so. —Magnate Leto

And I see Fitzy’s still snoozing,” Keefe noted, moving to his best friend’s side and waving a hand in front of his face. “Since he’s also cuddling with his sparkly dragon buddy and looking all rosy cheeked and peaceful, I’m guessing we don’t need to be worried about that?

Leto stood in the foyer of his house, studying a note by the light of a single suspensor lamp. Dawn was yet a few hours away, and he felt his tiredness. A Fremen messenger had brought the note to the outer guard just now as the Duke arrived from his command post

You’re a very strange person, you know that?” she asked as he pinned the new creatures in place. “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘awesome.’ I’m an awesome person—who stopped you from thinking about how hungry you are for, like, five minutes.” “And then reminded me,” Sophie noted with a stomach growl. “Oops. Well . . . okay, your new hour starts now!

Sophie had to force herself to breathe slower to keep her head from getting woozy. “I’m sure I speak for everyone,” Keefe grunted, “when I say: Are we there yet?” “Almost,” Tiergan promised. “Everyone dig deep—and don’t look down.” “Steaming sasquatch poop—that’s a long way to fall!” Keefe announced. Fitz moved closer to Sophie, his new cologne tickling her nose as he whispered, “I almost forgot. I brought you a present.” Her heart skipped at least five beats when he slipped an orange velvet satchel into her palm. He’d been bringing her lots of tiny gifts lately—and she’d been trying hard not to read too much into it. “Ugh, anyone else ready to vomit from the Fitzphie?” Keefe asked. “I am,” Dex said, as Linh asked, “Did Fitzphie become an actual thing?” “I don’t even know what ‘Fitzphie’ is supposed to mean,” Tiergan noted. “Want me to explain it?” Tam offered. “No,” Sophie said, opening the satchel and pulling out a fist-size crystal prism. It was heavy like a paperweight, and when she held it up to the light, rainbow sparkles flashed across her fingers, highlighting words carved across the base, along with the Foxfire seal. Alvar Soren Vacker “That’s called a Radiant,” Fitz explained. “It’s the highest honor any prodigy can receive when they complete the basic levels at Foxfire. Alvar was so disgustingly smug about earning one that he told my mom she should keep it on the mantel in our main sitting room, so it could inspire Biana and me to work harder.” “Ugh, I forgot about that,” Biana grumbled. “I can’t believe Mom did it.” “I know. So I think it’s time to destroy it. And considering where we are, maybe it’d be fun to let it take a really nasty fall.” “Gotta give you credit,” Tam told Fitz. “That’s pretty much a perfect gift.” It was. Though Sophie felt bad taking it. “Shouldn’t you or Biana do the honors?” “Nope. Alvar was there when they took your parents,” Biana argued. “And when you were kidnapped.” “Just throw it extra hard, for us,” Fitz added. Sophie glanced at Dex. “Alvar helped kidnap you, too.” “So boost your throw with the Sucker Punch I made you,” he suggested. They seemed pretty sure, so Sophie gathered whatever mental energy she could muster and channeled it into her arm muscles. A burst of force from the Sucker Punch gave her throw extra oomph as she hurled the Radiant down the center of the curving stairs, where none of the bodyguards would be standing. A satisfying

Key Apache Warriors Cochise—one of the great Chiricahua (Chokonen) chiefs. Born c. 1805. No known pictures exist but he was said to be very tall and imposing, over six feet and very muscular. Son-in-law to Mangas Coloradas. Died in 1874, probably from stomach cancer. Chihuahua—chief of the Warm Springs band (Red Paint people) of the Chiricahua. Fought alongside Geronimo in the resistance. Died in 1901. Fun—probably a cousin to Geronimo and among his best, most trusted warriors. Fun committed suicide in captivity in 1892, after becoming jealous over his young wife, whom he also shot. Only slightly wounded, she recovered. Juh—pronounced “Whoa,” “Ho,” or sometimes “Who.” Chief of the Nedhni band of the Apache, he married Ishton, Geronimo’s “favorite” sister. Juh and Geronimo were lifelong friends and battle brothers. Juh died in 1883. Loco—chief of the Warm Springs band. Born in 1823, the same year as Geronimo. Once was mauled by a bear and killed it single-handedly with a knife, but his face was clawed and his left eye was blinded and disfigured. Known as the “Apache Peacemaker,” he preferred peace to war and tried to live under reservation rules. Died as a prisoner of war from “causes unknown” in 1905, at age eighty-two. Lozen—warrior woman and Chief Victorio’s sister. She was a medicine woman and frequent messenger for Geronimo. She fought alongside Geronimo in his long resistance. Mangas Coloradas—Born in 1790, he was the most noted chief of the Bedonkohe Apache. A massive man for his era, at 6'6” and 250 pounds, he was Geronimo’s central mentor and influence. He was betrayed and murdered by the U.S. military in 1863. Geronimo called his murder “the greatest wrong ever done to the Indians.” Mangas—son of the great chief Mangas Coloradas, but did not succeed his father as chief because of his youth and lack of leadership. Died as a prisoner of war in 1901. Naiche—Cochise’s youngest son. Succeeded older brother Taza after he died, becoming the last chief of the free Chiricahua Apache. Nana—brother-in-law to Geronimo and chief of the Warm Springs band. Sometimes referred to as “Old Nana.” Died as a prisoner of war in 1896. Victorio—chief of the Warm Springs band. Noted and courageous leader and a brilliant military strategist. Brother and mentor to warrior woman Lozen. Slain by Mexicans in the massacre of Tres Castillos in 1880.

Lord Cassius noted. “Perhaps this new separation

forbidding, the cold metal glimmering with a strange, murderous aura. The bugle call that issued from it was indescribably sorrowful, the mournful note reverberating on and on until it resonated throughout the entirety of Yanhui Town. It was as though the souls of those who had died in battle over millennia had all awoken from their slumber and joined their voices in song. The giant kite followed the underground river steadily into town, the water splashing loudly against its sides. The voice of the messenger rang out once again. “EXTINGUISH THE LIGHTS.” The giant kite responded

In order to guard those who must be protected, Our plan has changed and been perfected. A team of three will unite for the trip, To the Head of the Sky, on the northern tip. A cave of horrors will set the stage, Where green boots rest, and never age. Further plans will await your arrival, Destroying this note will ensure your survival. Seek the moonlark to set you on your way, Then find us at sunrise on the third day.

The absurdity of many UFO stories and of many religious visions is not a superficial logical mistake. It may be the key to their function. According to Major Murphy, the confusion in the UFO mystery may have been put there deliberately to achieve certain results. One of these results has been to keep scientists away. The other is to create the conditions for a new form of social control, a change in Man’s perception of his place in the universe. Are his theories fantastic? Before we decide, let us review a few other facts. We need to examine more closely the political connections. Paris Flammonde, in his well-documented Age of Flying Saucers, remarked that “a great many of the contactees purvey philosophies which are tinged, if not tainted, with totalitarian overtones.”1 A catalogue of contactee themes, compiled from interviews I have conducted, includes the following. Intellectual abdication. The widespread belief that human beings are incapable of solving their own problems, and that extraterrestrial intervention is imperative to save us “in spite of ourselves.” The danger in such a philosophy is that it makes its believers dependent on outside forces and discourages personal responsibility: why should we worry about the problems around us, if the Gods from Outer Space are about to solve them? Racist philosophy. The pernicious suggestion that some of us on the Earth are of extraterrestrial descent and therefore constitute a “higher race.” The dangers inherent in this belief should be obvious to anybody who hasn’t forgotten the genocides of World War II, executed on the premise that some races were somehow “purer” or better than others. (Let us note in passing that Adamski’s Venusian, the Stranger of the Canigou seen by Bordas, and many other alleged extraterrestrials were all tall Aryan types with long blond hair.) Technical impotence. The statement that the birth of civilization on this planet resulted not from the genius and ability of mankind, but from repeated assistance by higher beings. Archaeologists and anthropologists are constantly aware of the marvelous skill with which the “Ancient Engineers” (to use L. Sprague de Camp’s phrase) developed the tools of civilization on all continents. No appeal to superior powers is necessary to explain the achievements of early culture. The belief expressed by the contactees reveals a tragic lack of trust on their part in human ability. Social utopia. Fantastic economic theories, including the belief that a “world economy” can be created overnight, and that democracy should be abolished in favor of Utopian systems, usually dictatorial in their outlook.

I can tweak mine so two can share,” Dex said, bending his into a Z-shape. He made a few more tweaks before holding up the mouthpiece proudly. “Now it works on each end.” “They’ll have to keep their faces very close together,” Mr. Forkle noted. “Foster and I volunteer!” Keefe shouted. “Uh, if anyone’s going to share with Sophie it should be me,” Dex argued. “Wait, why do I have to share?” Sophie asked. “Yeah, I nominate Dex and Keefe,” Fitz agreed. “So do I,” Mr. Forkle decided. “Keefe, give your lufterator to Della.” “Wait—what just happened?” Keefe asked. Fitz, Biana, and Sophie cracked up. Dex fumed as Mr. Forkle ordered him and Keefe to test the gadget to make sure the lufterator still worked. They had to stand so close their noses practically touched.

One final note on our troglodytes: They breathed fresh air. They drank clean water. They ate organic plants and free-range animals—yet their staggeringly high infant mortality left them with an average life expectancy of barely thirty years. Science matters.

She will,” Keefe interrupted. “Don’t ask me how. But believe me, if I thought there was even the slightest chance we could catch her, Foster and I would be having a slumber party tonight.” “No you wouldn’t,” Grady informed him. Keefe smirked. “Worried I’ll prank you?” “Definitely not what I’m worried about.” And on that note, Sophie decided it was time for another subject change.

They are pretty cute,” Fitz noted. “Though, if you’re looking for cute distractions, I’m more than happy to offer my snuggle services.

That realization helped her focus past the bile coating her tongue, picking up a sweet, familiar flavor. “YOU RIGGED IT WITH LUSHBERRY JUICE?” she shouted as her vision cleared enough to note the look on Sandor’s face.

Stina kinda did,” Sophie noted. “Not really,” Stina admitted. “I mean, I did way better than you. You were a disaster.

Well, there should be an alternative,” Stina muttered, stomping her boot to clean off as much of the gunk as she could. Clearly she was in denial about the muddy fun she still had ahead of her. “You’ll be fine,” Sophie promised. “Alden and I had to sink through quicksand at the Gateway to Exile, and it really wasn’t that big of a deal.” Though, she couldn’t help a tiny shudder as her mind flashed back to that scratchy, suffocating fall. “The dwarves seem to like messy entrances,” Dex noted, moving to the lead of their muddy group. He was even grinning, like he was actually enjoying the journey through the sludge.

Your stubbornness has gotten much stronger since you first arrived in our world,” Lord Cassius noted. “Perhaps this new separation from my son will help you learn better deference and respect.

Each written message from your spirit provides evidence that vibes are trustworthy and builds confidence on which to go forward. You’ll no longer just have a vague feeling to trust—you’ll have solid verification that your vibes are legitimate guides that you can count on. Keeping a journal also tells your subconscious mind that you value your intuition now, so turn up the volume. This is a game-changer when it comes to sensing your vibes. Every time you write something down, you validate it, even if what you are writing down doesn’t make immediate sense to your logical brain. It trains your mind not to dismiss or ignore these subtle messengers but instead make a note of them and expect them to make sense eventually. It doesn’t take long for your ego to get the message and to cooperate in every way.

Noted,

Bunny, and my parents aren’t here either, but you’d like to make it about them. Don’t shit a shitter. The higher-ups aren’t wild about me returning to work because, while Assistant Commissioner Fintan O’Rourke was as dodgy as a three euro note, he was still one of the chosen and having me knocking about is an unhappy reminder of a rather big embarrassment for the force. 'Tis classic Garda logic – we take a PR black eye when it comes out that the second most powerful peaked cap in the country has been in the pocket of the self-styled godfather of Irish crime, Gerry Fallon, for several decades, and the solution is to shoot the messenger.

I say all this to note the paradox of that generation of Americans that spent childhood in the Depression, fought in World War II as teenagers, and as adults built the country as we know it today, for better or worse, richer or polluted, in plutonium and in health. That paradox is one of excess and selflessness. It was a generation that acted first, thought later. Ours, on the other hand, thinks almost everything into oblivion. Ours projects all, yet seems at a loss to do anything that will substantially alter what we so brilliantly project, most of which is payment for fifty years of excess since the war—chemical water, dying forests, soaring deficits, clogged arteries, rockets and bombs like hardened foam from a million panting mouths.

16But they mocked the messengers of God, despised His words, and scoffed at His prophets, until the wrath of the LORD arose against His people, till there was no remedy.

as everyday occurrences. The two girls talked all the way to Brighton, and then on the coach that took them to the school. They stood together in line as the girls all snaked past the teaching staff who were, as school custom dictated, lined up to shake the hand of every girl in the school, and then Francesca, who told Saffron that her family all called her Chessi, showed her around. Both girls now knew that they had at least one person they could always sit next to and at the start of any school term that made all the difference. Leon walked back across Green Park to the Ritz, glad of the chance to stretch his legs. He felt as though he had a lot of nervous energy to work off. By God, I feel like a bloody schoolboy, he thought to himself. Get a grip of yourself, man! Earlier in the day, while Saffron was busy packing, he had sent a messenger round to the Daniel Neal store, with a note addressed to Miss Halfpenny

In this time of well-nigh universal apostasy, God calls upon His messengers to proclaim His law in the spirit and power of Elias.

The Mexican Eve is called Suchiquecal. A messenger from heaven announced to her that she should bear a son, who should bruise the serpent's head. He presents her with a rose. This was the commencement of and Age, which was called the Age of Roses." (Is this the age when angels became the husbands of pure-minded women--an age fitly symboled by the rose, the flower of perfect love? Note, also, the resemblance between this tradition and the Christian tradition, concerning the angel's offering Mary a lily-branch at the Annunciation. Evidently, these are two different aspects of the same symbolism.)

No more betting,” Elwin warned. “At least not on my watch. And today’s lesson better be chaos-free or I’m nixing these little sessions.” “Aw, we can’t have that. Foster would miss me too much. Who knew the way to her heart was my mad teaching skills?” “Or I’m just bored,” Sophie countered. “Nah, you’re realizing I’m the total package. Beauty and brains—” “And super modest,” she noted. “Exactly! And, because my amazingness knows no bounds, I even come bearing presents!” He pulled a box of Prattles from his cape pocket with a dramatic flourish. “Today you’re getting my brilliant lesson and candy!