“The last void stone I’d worn was a beautiful black stone caught in vines of copper and silver. It looked like a necklace, a piece of art, really. This thing was spud-ugly.”

“Stone and blocks, like butter and bread.”

“Stone growled and stepped toward Dad, fangs bared. That’s a good gargoyle. Take a bite out of Daddy for me.”

“... he trotted down the hallway on all fours and started in on his second favorite pastime, conversations with plumbing. Just what I needed: Stone, the Toilet Whisperer.”

“And you thought that rock was just ugly,” Shame said. “It’s ugly and powerful.” “No wonder you like it so much. Birds of a feather . . . ” Terric mumbled”

“Maybe in the morning, sunlight would to turn him back into a statue; then I could take Stone out to the forest where he could frolic among the ferns, gurgle at streams, and make friends with the other interesting rocks.”

“Looks like it’s game time,” Shame said. “Beautiful day for some ass kicking, don’t you think?”