One Salt Sea

That's the beauty of the future. We get to change it.

See, Quentin, that’s why you should wear a cup before trying to assassinate someone.

I can't. I'm not a good influence on him. I keep getting him shot. I swear too much, I don't brush my teeth every time I go to bed, and I never remember to eat a balanced breakfast. You want someone with culture. Poise. A lack of gunfire.

I just wasn't anticipating Goblin assassins with crossbows pushing me into a situation where the only viable exit involved riding a mermaid's wheelchair into the marina. Sometimes I think my life is too complicated.

Um, hello?" I raised a hand. "Not a traitor, and the Queen told us where to find you. Or do you think that we're such major badasses that we fought our way through the knowe to come and loiter at you in an imposing fashion? Because I've got to say I'm flattered.

she can stop traffic with a smile. I can stop traffic, too. I just tend to do it by crashing my car into something.

You know what “sorry” does? Sorry doesn’t do a damn thing.

I was getting tired of being in an endless succession of things called "the fight of a lifetime." Just once, I'd like to have the fight of a Tuesday afternoon.

The night-haunts never lie. They could, if they wanted to, but they don’t really see the point. The truth is so much more dangerous than a lie.

Hopefully, anyone who saw a woman riding a screaming mermaid in a wheelchair down Leavenworth at a quarter to five in the morning would just think they'd had too much to drink.

Never bring a weapon too big to double as a dining utensil to the table when dining with friends.

If something happened to Gillian, I'd rip the world down to save her, even if she spat in my face when I did. That's what parenthood means.

I squared my shoulders, trying to ignore the fact that I was standing in the apartment of the sea witch, wearing a fairy-tale prom gown, waiting for the attack of the mermaids.

A cat that looks bored is a cat that's getting ready to pounce.

Did you find anything?" "Nothing of interest. People fleeing. Poorly trained guards unable to believe an attack would occur within a royal knowe, thus proving that they possess an insufficient grasp of historical fact.

. . . most of the ones who come when the call goes out won't have ever fought a war before. They'll come because they think it's honorable, or because they want to be heroes. They'll show up in their pretty armor, and they'll litter the battlefield like leaves.

Okay, I’ll be in my room if you need me. Please don’t need me. Also,

I picked up a denim skirt from the closet floor. Either May had been committing acts of appliqué on my clothes, or it was hers.