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“Magic made everything feel so impermanent, it was easy to forget that some things, once changed, could never be undone. That not everything was either changeable or infinite. Some roads kept going, and others had an end.”
― A Conjuring of Light
― A Conjuring of Light

“She’d been so docile that Nina had become concerned. “Maybe she’s not getting enough blood to her brain?” she’d murmured to Matthias.”
― Crooked Kingdom
― Crooked Kingdom

“And strategy is just a fancy word for a special kind of common sense, the ability to see options, to make them where there were none. It’s not about knowing the rules. It’s about knowing how to break them.”
― A Conjuring of Light
― A Conjuring of Light

“If it pleases the Arnesian king, she will send a year’s worth of winter wine, seven priests, and her youngest son, Hok, whose gift for stone magic is unsurpassed in all of Vesk.”
My mother is dead, Rhy wanted to scream, and you would give me drink and danger. Instead he said only, “And what of the princess? What will the queen give me for her?”
― A Conjuring of Light
My mother is dead, Rhy wanted to scream, and you would give me drink and danger. Instead he said only, “And what of the princess? What will the queen give me for her?”
― A Conjuring of Light

“Holland stared at his own hand, the knife’s edge crimson.
They left they body where it fell.
And brought another in.
“No,” snarled Holland at the sight of him. A boy from the kitchens, hardly fourteen, who looked at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Help,” he begged.
Then they brought another.
And another.
One by one, Athos and Astrid paraded the remains of Vor’s life before Holland, instructing him again and again to cut their throats. Every time, he tried to fight the order. Every time, he failed. Every time, he had to look them in their eyes and see the hatred, the betrayal, the anguished confusion before he cut them down.
The bodies piled. Athos watched. Astrid grinned.
Holland’s hand moved on its puppet string.
And his mind screamed until it finally lost its voice.”
― A Conjuring of Light
They left they body where it fell.
And brought another in.
“No,” snarled Holland at the sight of him. A boy from the kitchens, hardly fourteen, who looked at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Help,” he begged.
Then they brought another.
And another.
One by one, Athos and Astrid paraded the remains of Vor’s life before Holland, instructing him again and again to cut their throats. Every time, he tried to fight the order. Every time, he failed. Every time, he had to look them in their eyes and see the hatred, the betrayal, the anguished confusion before he cut them down.
The bodies piled. Athos watched. Astrid grinned.
Holland’s hand moved on its puppet string.
And his mind screamed until it finally lost its voice.”
― A Conjuring of Light
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