"Falling leaves return to their roots"
📚🔔 Tatil zili çaldı!
Bir yıl boyunca verilen emeklerin ardından şimdi dinlenme, keşfetme ve yeni maceralara atılma zamanı. 🌞
Bu yaz bol kahkahalı, bol anılı ve elbette bol kitaplı geçsin. Tüm öğrencilere keyifli tatiller diliyoruz! 💙📖
“The little prince crossed the desert and only met a flower, a very ordinary flower with three petals.
‘Good morning,’ said the little prince.
‘Good morning,’ said the flower.
‘Where are all the people?’ asked the little prince politely.
The flower had once seen a caravan go by:
‘People? There are six or seven of them, I think. I saw them once years ago. But you can never find them. They’re blown by the wind. They haven’t got any roots you see. That’s their problem.’
‘Goodbye,’ said the little prince.
‘Goodbye,’ said the flower.
The Little Prince
Mom???
Maybe Nivene is right. Not about the slaughter, but…
I catch sight of a person with blond, gleaming hair marching toward me
between ramshackle stone shops, and my heart sinks. Great, the only person
who could make this day worse.
His pinched nostrils flare as he grins at me. “Hello, hello,” Tarquin
croons. “None other than the illustrious Dame Nia. The Avalon Steel, or so
they say.”
“Fuck off, Tarquin, I’m not in the mood.”
He puts his palm on his chest, his expression hurt. “First of all, it’s Sir
Tarquin now. And is that any way to talk to someone who looks after the
safety of your loved ones?”
“My loved ones?” My stomach flips as I try to figure out what he
means. Is he talking about Raphael?
Behind him, a woman runs toward me, waving and smiling like a
maniac. My pounding heart registers her identity before my brain does. For
a second, I stare at the familiar face so out of place here: large lips
overdrawn with red liner, bleached blond hair growing in dark at the roots,
thin frame and gaunt cheeks.
“Nia?” Her voice is too loud, and it echoes off the stone buildings.
My jaw drops for a few seconds before I manage to find my voice.
“Mom?”
The Culling Test
“Wow, demi-Fey? I’ve never seen one. What did they look like?”
“Fucking weird, pardon my language. The man had pointy ears,
obviously. Dark hair. Tattoos on his arms, eerie silver eyes like metal.
Beautiful blonde woman with him. You know, I don’t mind the women
demi-Fey quite as much. I’d give her one,” he says thoughtfully. “Pardon
the expression.”
I toss a horseshoe, and it clatters to the floor of his stall. A thought starts
to blossom in my mind. “Did they have anything with them?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
I open my eyes wide. “Well, like you said, they’re dangerous. And you
know the saying, if you see something, say something.”
He holds up a finger. “Do you know what, love? The fella was carrying
something. It was in a box, like a musical instrument or something. They
never brought it out again.” His eyes widen. “Do you think they could be
planning something? You don’t think it was a bomb, do you?” He scrubs a
hand over his mouth. “With all these people here? Should I call the police?”
I toss both horseshoes one after the other, so off the mark that one
nearly hits one of the prize dolls. “It’s probably nothing. I doubt demi-Fey
even know how to make a bomb. We don’t want the police shutting the
whole fair down over an empty box.”
What I know at this point is that Raphael and Vivian came in earlier and
left a package here, then left.
The Excalibur replica.
“We will obviously need to reschedule the shadow trial.” Wrythe sighs.
“Ms. Melisende can do it properly with the rest of the cadets.”
“No,” Raphael says.
Wrythe frowns at him. “Right. You think she should be expelled after
all?”
“She won’t do the shadow trial again. She’s shown her leadership by
sending cadets to call for backup,” Raphael says. “She followed an enemy
agent through the fair
