Vanity and seduction blended deceivingly, because power shimmers in many beguiling and seducing colors. Power likes to subjugate external things, to rope in humans, to accumulate wealth, to commit acts of violence. Power wants to free itself from service, submission, and obedience, wants to harvest where it did not sow, to win where there is nothing to lose.Power wants to satisfy all childish desires.
What is it your power wants?
(Kibir ve baştan çıkarma aldatıcı biçimde iç içe geçmiştir, çünkü güç pek çok büyüleyici ve baştan çıkarıcı renkte parıldar. Güç, dışsal şeyleri boyunduruk altına almayı, insanları kendi ağına çekmeyi, servet biriktirmeyi, şiddet eylemleri işlemeyi sever. Güç, hizmetten, boyun eğmekten ve itaattan kurtulmak ister; ekmediği yerden biçmek, kaybedecek hiçbir şeyin olmadığı yerde kazanmak ister. Güç, tüm çocuksu arzuları tatmin etmek ister.
Senin gücün ne istiyor?)
Nightmares are Dreams too
Raphael’s fingers tighten on my waist. “We’re disoriented somehow.
Have we been drugged? All we need to do is get outside.”
“Well, we came from the left passage,” I say. “So we should probably
take the right.”
I start walking, but everything seems to be moving slowly, much too
slowly. I’m walking as fast as I can, but I can hardly budge. I look down
and realize that my feet are stuck in the threadbare rug, and with each step,
I’m getting pulled back. The rug has become a strange, muddy goo.
“I’m sinking in the rug!” I shout in alarm.
“Don’t shout,” Raphael says. “Hang on. Where’s Viviane?”
It’s just the two of us now, and I’m knee-deep in the rug and sinking
faster.
“We must have been drugged.” Raphael’s grip around my waist is solid,
but somehow, I’m sinking and he’s not.
“No.” My stomach swoops. “The Castle of Dreams has become the
castle of nightmares. This is the Dream Stalker’s work.”
It’s obvious now. Prince Talan must have realized his map is missing,
and now, he’s trapped us.
“No way,” Raphael says. “He doesn’t even know who we are.”
“He doesn’t need to.” I’ve visited a dozen minds, minds belonging to
the prince’s confidants, enough to learn things about him. “He can sense
people’s subconscious when they’re nearby. We’re trying to get out, and
we’re scared of being caught. That makes us different from everyone else in
this place. He’s honed in on our minds and wrapped us up in this dream.”
Raphael’s grip tightens around my waist. “And he knows where we
are?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not yet. But if we don’t get out,
they’ll find us eventually.” I’m up to my thighs now in the liquidized rug.
“Raphael, I’m drowning in this.”
“It’s in our minds,” Raphael says slowly. “Nia, even dreams can be
0-30p: Kontrollü okuyucu 📖
40-70p: Hafif bağımlı 👀
80p+: Geçmiş olsun, kitaplar seni ele geçirmiş 😅
hiç kuyuya hapsolmuş bir çocuk gördün mü?
(diye soruyor bana kafamın içinden)
evet efendim, küçük bir çocuk düşmüştü geçen kış.
kendi başına mı çıktı?
hayır efendim, çokça halat ve çekmek gerekti.
hı hı. su seni tutmak ister.
evet, ister.
neden farklı olduğunu sanıyorsun?
efendim?
neden farklı olduğunu sanıyorsun?
öyle bir düşüncem yok. sadece hastayım o kadar.
hasta değilsin. sen bir kuyusun. oğlun içinde kapalı kalmış. yüzme bildiği de yok.
elimde işe yarayacak ne var peki?
sırtın ya da beynin değil ama kalbin dayanacak.
ölüyor muyum dersin?
kuyu sensin. boğulan o.
onu sevmeye niyetim yoktu zaten.
aç gözlerini.
aç gözlerini!
you ever see a boy get hisself trapped in a well?
(she ask me from inside my head)
yes ma’am lil boy fell in last winter.
he get out on his own?
no ma’am took a lotta pullin and rope.
uh huh. water wanna keep you.
yes it do.
why you think you different?
ma’am?
why you think you different?
He didn't want to think about this, didn't want to feel this, so he thought about the Foxes instead. He clung tight to the memory of their unhesitating friendship and their smiles. He pretended the heartbeat pounding a sick pace in his temples was an Exy ball ricocheting off the court walls. He thought of Wymack holding him up in December and Andrew pushing him down against the bedroom floor. The memories made him weak with grief and loss, but they made him stronger, too. He'd come to the Foxhole Court every inch a lie, but his friends made him into someone real.
He'd hit the end of his rope before he wanted to and he hadn't accomplished everything he'd hoped to this year, but he'd done more with his life than he'd ever thought possible. That had to be enough. He traced the outline of a key into his bloody, burnt palm with a shaky finger, closed his eyes, and wished Neil Josten goodbye.
Sayfa 238
Brain Ligthning
His lightning can take form. He’s best at the shield, a weaving crackle of electric energy that can stop a bullet, and a whip to cut through rock and bone. The latter is striking to behold: a fraying arc of electricity that moves like deadly rope, able to burn through anything in its path. I feel the force of it every time we spar. It doesn’t hurt me as much as it would anyone else, but any lightning I can’t wrench control of strikes deep. Usually I end the day with my hair on end, and when Cal kisses me, he always gets a shock or two.
The quiet Tyton doesn’t spar with any of us, or with anyone, for that matter. He has given no name to his specialty, but Ella calls it pulse lightning. His control of electricity is astounding. The pure white sparks are small but concentrated, containing the strength of a storm bolt. Like a live-wire bullet.
“I’d show you brain lightning,” he mutters to me one day, “but I doubt anyone would volunteer to help the demonstration.”
We pass the sparring circles together, beginning the long walk across the base to Storm Hill. Now that I’ve been with them awhile, Tyton actually speaks more than a few words to me. Still, it’s a surprise to hear his slow, methodic voice.
“What’s brain lightning?” I ask, intrigued.
“What it sounds like.”
“Helpful,” Ella sneers at my side. She continues braiding her vivid hair back from her face. It hasn’t been dyed in a few weeks, as evidenced by the dirty-blond hair showing at the root. “He means that a human body runs on a pulse of electrical signals. Very small, ridiculously fast. Difficult to detect and almost impossible to control. They’re most concentrated in the brain, and easiest to harness there.”
My eyes widen as I look at Tyton. He just keeps walking, white hair over one eye, hands shoved into
Oh no they were to late
There’s a square beyond, clearly meant for Red use. Battle Garden. It’s plain but well maintained, with fresh greenery and gray stone statues of warriors all over. The one in the center is the largest, a rifle slung across his back, one dark arm extended into midair.
The statue’s hand points east.
A rope dangles from the statue’s hand.
A body swings from the rope.
The corpse is not naked, and wears no medallion of the Red Watch. He’s young and short, his skin still soft. He was not executed long ago, probably an hour or so. But the square is clear of mourners and guards. No one is here to see him swing.
Even though the sandy hair falls into his eyes, obscuring some of his face, I know exactly who this boy is. I saw him in the records, smiling out from an ID photograph. Now he will never smile again. I knew this would happen. I knew it. But that doesn’t make the pain, or the failure, any easier.
He is Wolliver Galt, a newblood, reduced to a lifeless corpse.
I weep for the boy I never knew, for the boy I was not fast enough to save.
Sayfa 211
