“See, that’s the difference,” Mauvin said. “I suffer a loss and people console me. Royce suffers a loss and whole towns evacuate.”
“Happiness comes from moving toward something. When you run away, ofttimes you bring your misery with you.”
“Come for your revenge at last, elf?"
Royce stepped forward. He looked down at Thranic and then around the room. "How could I top possibly top this? Sealed alive in a tomb of rock. My only regret is that I had nothing to do with it”
“I am officially turning him over to you. He's your problem now. You'll have to watch out for him and that won't be easy. He's naive, gullible, immature, horribly unsophisticated, ignorant about anything worth knowing, and idealistic to a fault." He paused to make a show of thinking harder. "He's also indecisive, pathetically honest, a horrible liar, and too virtuous for words. He gets up twice each night to relieve himself, wads his clothes rather than folds them, chews with his mouth open, and talks with his mouth full. He has a nasty habit of cracking his knuckles every morning at breakfast, and, of course, he snores. To remedy that, just put a rock under his blanket.”
“How can you regret never having found true love? That's like saying you regret not being born a genius. People don't have control over such things. It either happens or it doesn't. It's a gift - a present that most never get. It's more like a miracle, really, when you think of it. I mean, first you have to find that person, and then you have to get to know them to realize just what they mean to you - that right there is ridiculously difficult. Then... then that person has to feel the same way about you. It's like searching for a specific snowflake, and even if you manage to find it, that's not good enough. You still have to find its matching pair. What are the odds?”
“Bah!” Magnus scoffed. “Humans always blame dwarves. A baby goes missing and it was a dwarf that stole it. A princess runs off with a second son of a king and it was a dwarf who lured her to a deep prison. And when they find her with the prince—lo, she was rescued!
“A king is stabbed in the back in his own chapel, and a princess’s tower
is turned into a death trap,” Royce called back to them. “Friends are
betrayed and trapped in a prison—yes, I can see your surprise. Where do they get such ideas?”
“Damn his elven ears,” Magnus said.”
“A beautiful day might bring disaster, while a day that begins trapped inside an ancient toom, might be the best one of your life. If you don´t abandon hope on pleasent days, why do so on those that begin poorly?”
“I need your help.”
Royce looked up as if his head weighed a hundred pounds, his eyes red, his face ashen. He waited.
“One last job,” Hadrian told him, then added, “I promise.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Very.”
“Is there a good chance I’ll get killed?”
“Odds are definitely in favor of that.”
Royce nodded, looked down at the scarf in his lap, and replied, “Okay.”
“And I wish to thank you as well, Royce."
He was puzzled. "For what?"
"For reminding me that anyone, no matter what they've done, can find redemption if they seek it.”
“This book is entirely dedicated to my wife, Robin Sullivan.
Some have asked how it is I write such strong women without resorting to putting swords in their hands. It is because of her.
She is Arista.
She is Thrace.
She is Modina.
She is Amilia.
And she is my Gwen.
This series has been a tribute to her.
This is your book, Robin.
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world.
--ELTON JOHN, BERNIE TAUPIN”
“Wait a minute,” Hadrian said. “Was it a beat-up brown leather notebook?
About this big?” He gestured with his hands.
“Yes,” the Patriarch said.
Arista looked back and forth between them. “How do you know that?”
“I know it because I have lived in the Crown Tower,” the Patriarch
said.
“And you?” Arista looked at Hadrian, who hesitated.
“Ha-ha! Of course, of course. I knew it!” Cosmos DeLur chuckled and
clapped his hands together in single applause while smiling at Hadrian.
“Such a wonderfully delightful rumor as that had to be true. That is
an exquisite accomplishment.”
“You stole it?” Arista asked.
“Yes, he did,” the Patriarch declared.
“Actually,” Hadrian said, “Royce and I did, but we put it back the next night.”
“You look concerned."
"Just that if you've started another war, I'd like a heads-up is all."
"The level of confidence you have in my diplomatic skills is overwhelming."
"What diplomatic skills?”
“Revenge is a bittersweet fruit that leaves the foul aftertaste of regret.”
“Happiness comes from moving toward something. When you run away, ofttimes you bring your misery with you."
"Who are you quoting now?"
"No one," Myron said. "I learned that one first hand.”
“You can’t kill Myron, Royce,” Hadrian said, rapidly pulling the monk away as if he had found a child playing with a wild bear. “It would be like killing a puppy.”
“More valuable than gold, more precious than life, is mercy bestowed upon he who hast not known its soft kiss”
“Very slowly Royce pushed the door inward, peering through the gap. He looked left and right, then closed it once more and replaced the bolts.
"What is it?" Hadrian asked.
"He's right," Royce said dismally. "No one is getting through."
Thranic smiled and nodded until he was beset by another series of coughs that bent him over in pain.
"What is it?" Hadrian repeated.
"You're not going to believe it."
"What?"
"There's a -- a thingy."
"A what?"
"You know, a thingy thing."
Hadrian looked at him, puzzled.
"A Gilarabrywn," Thranic said.”
“Life is only precious if you wish it to be.’ I look at it like the last bite of a wonderful meal—do you enjoy it, or does the knowledge that there is no more to follow make it so bitter that you would ruin the experience?”
“A—ris—ta?” Degan asked, sounding horse. “What is it?”
“A rat bit me,” she said, once again shocked by her own rasping voice.
“Jasper does that if—” Gaunt coughed and hacked. After a moment, he
spoke again. “If he thinks you’re dead or too weak to fight.”
“Jasper?”
“I call him that, but I’ve also named the stones in my cell.”
“I only counted mine,” Arista said.
“Two hundred and thirty-four,” Degan replied instantly.
“I have two hundred and twenty-eight.”
“Did you count the cracked ones as two?”
“No.”
“Sometimes the price of dreams is achieving them.” Arista”
“Just—don’t—move,” Guy said with his hands spread out in front of him. He looked as if he were trying to catch a wild horse, and did not advance, dismount, or draw his sword.
Just then the portcullis dropped.
“There’s no escape,” Guy assured him.
From a nearby door, a handful of guards trotted toward Hadrian with their swords drawn.
“Stop!” Guy ordered, raising his hand abruptly. “Don’t go near him. Just fan out.”
The men waiting in line looked from the soldiers to Hadrian and then backed away.
“I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Blackwater,” Guy said in an almost friendly tone. “But we truly have you outnumbered this time.”
“When you expect nothing from the world—not the light of the sun, the wet of water, nor the air to breathe—everything is a wonder and every moment a gift.”
“It doesn't take much to please you, does it, Myron?"
"Anton Bulard once wrote, 'When you expect nothing from the world- not the light of the sun, the wet of water, nor the air to breathe- everything is a wonder and every moment a gift.”
“A beautiful day might bring disaster, while a day that begins trapped inside an ancient tomb might be the best one of your life.”
“Most people never come near their true love, or if they do, it’s one sided. That is perhaps more tragic than never finding love at all. To know joy lies forever just beyond your reach—in a way, it’s a kind of torture.”
“Arista was tortured with thoughts of roasted pig dripping with fruit glaze, beef served in a thick, dark gravy, and mountains of chicken, quail, and duck.”
“City of Percepliquis
Ever sought, forever missed
Pick and shovel, dig and haul
Search forever, fall the wall.
Gala halted, city’s doom
Spring warmth chilled with dust and gloom
Darkness sealed, blankets all
Death upon them, fall the wall.
Ancient stones upon the Lee
Dusts of memories gone we see
Once the center, once the all
Lost forever, fall the wall”
“Road—tomorrow?” Myron asked. “Am I going back to the abbey?”
“Better—you’re going to be a hero.”
“Hadrian was disappointed that she never came to his room, and he, in turn, never visited hers.”
“I can't help but stare at his swollen eye and bruised jaw. He looks like the god of war, damaged and scarred, but still standing. I'm not thinking as I reach up and gently run a finger across his battered face.”
“Unlike stories, real life, when it has passed, inclines toward obscurity, not clarity.”
“This woman was eighteen years old. With eyes as old as stones.”
“The TV was a rage-making machine, working at him all the time, giving him direction and scope, enlarging him in a sense, filling him with a world rage, a great stalking soreness and rancour.”
“What a glorious boy
he had meant to be to her. Ah, Peter, we who have made the great
mistake, how differently we should all act at the second chance. But
Solomon was right; there is no second chance, not for most of us.
When we reach the window it is Lock-out Time. The iron bars are up
for life.”
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