Hollowpox: The Hunt for Morrigan Crow

We don't ignore bigotry, Jack. That's how cowardly bigots turn into brave bigots.

Who cares what some numpty thinks? The thing about numpties, Mog, is that they can always find plenty of other numpties to believe their numpty nonsense. You know what they say: you're never more than six feet away from a numpty.

Only need a spark,” she said with a shrug. “Small sparks make big fires.

Why do you keep apologizing?” asked President Wintersea. “Dreadful habit for girls to get into, you must break it at once.

I don’t believe I’ve ever been quite so angry in all my life. I think I could bottle this rage and sell it to—I don’t know, competitive heavyweight boxers or something.

What, they’re letting people inside Proudfoot House?” said Morrigan. She could immediately think of at least twelve reasons why that was a terrible idea. “Are they mad? There are dragons in there! And explosions. And… Hawthorne, sometimes

Did you just see that bloke with a pitchfork?” Hawthorne’s voice had jumped up half an octave, his eyes grown wide. “Who even owns a pitchfork? I don’t even know what a pitchfork is for!

I thought Elder Quinn might smack him in the jaw, but he's not half stirring when he gets on a roll, is he? He should join an amateur theatrical society." He IS an amateur theatrical society, Morrigan thought.

Perhaps your destiny, your lifelong role in the Wundrous Society, is to bring light to the world, in whatever form that might take--music, or art, or politics, or making a truly excellent leek and potato soup--to balance out the dark. To distract people from it. To keep Nevermoor from being consumed by it.

The thing about numpties, Mog, is that they can always find plenty of other numpties to believe their numpty nonsense. You know what they say: You’re never more than six feet away from a numpty.

Very ... shiny. Jack winced a little and snapped the eye patch back into place. Potentially dangerous levels of cheer.

Morrigan turned to her friends, nonplussed. ‘What’s wrong with being respectful?’ ‘Obviously takes more than two brain cells,’ Jack muttered. ‘Yeah, and they’ve only got one between them,’ added Cadence with a snort of laughter.

There was a man in the hall. He turned to face her, desperate and wild-eyed, his white face ghostlike. With his shirt half untucked and hair disheveled, he was almost unrecognizable. But when he spoke, Morrigan could feel the lightning crackle of his panic through the Gossamer. “Don’t let them open the border!” It was Squall.

Honestly, Mog, I'd rather be dead than hollow.

since coming to Nevermoor, she’d seen some extraordinary things.

It’s like covering up the fact that you have a box of spiders by telling everyone you also have a box of… acid-spouting land dolphins.

But Ezra Squall can’t get in.” “No, he can’t,” said Jupiter. “Because our borders specifically keep Squall out. They’re impenetrable to him, but not necessarily to ordinary people in the Republic. It’s just that most ordinary people in the Republic have no idea the Free State exists, and if they do, they don’t know where it is or how to get here. But, as I say, there are ways inside.” “Such as through a clockface in a giant mechanical spider piloted by a madman,” said Morrigan, recalling her own strange journey to Nevermoor, two and a half years ago. Jack laughed at that as he dropped into an armchair next to hers, swinging his legs over the side.

Cadence muttered to Morrigan, “I liked her better when she couldn’t remember who I was

Morrigan smiled and took a deep breath. Last day of the autumn term. She’d made it.

Taking a long, deep breath, Morrigan grinned. she felt energised and buoyant and - for the first time in a long time - somehow certain that there was a way out of this mess Nevermoor was in.

He lunged forward, arms outstretched as if to grab her by the shoulders, but of course his hands fell straight through her. The back of Morrigan's neck prickled. There were things about Squall that frightened her, but nothing so much as this. Nothing he'd ever said or done was as terrifying to Morrigan... as seeing him so frightened. What scared you this much, if you were the evillest man who ever lived?

But if they believed the money really was on the table, they must believe Morrigan truly could be a Wundersmith, and everyone knew Wundersmiths were dangerous... which made her wonder why they dared to come anywhere near her. "Folks'll do anything for money like that," Kedgeree said when she'd asked him about it. "Greed trumps fear.

Oh, you mean that GIANT FLOOF?

She may be a Wundersmith, but truly from today onward, she is our Wundersmith

Masquerade,’ Squall said simply. By the

He should join an amateur theatrical society.” He is an amateur theatrical society, Morrigan thought,

Yes, shush. Maud said the Wintersea Party might help if there was a squid crow po.” “Quid pro quo?” “Right, one of those.