“He sat the silver disk between Poocher's shoulder blades. The pig turned around in a circle, as if he were trying to see the disk on his back, which his fat neck wouldn't allow. After his third revolution, he closed his eyes and scrunched up his snout. His wings unfolded. He floated off the ground, looking smug.Everyone in the room knew there was something that needed to be said. But not even Hex, who'd never shown any fear of an obvious joke, dared say it.”

“By the bones!" said Shay. "He has all seven!""All seven what?""The Potter biographies! The College of Spires only had five of the volumes... four now, since I stole one.""What's so special about these books?" She picked up one of the fat tomes and flipped it open."Potter was a member of a race of wizards who lived in the last days of the human age," said Shay.Jandra frowned as she flipped through the pages. "Are you certain this isn't fiction?" She asked.”

“He smiles, even though he knows it will never be like that again, even though he knows the world no longer wants what he has, what he loves, what he has devoted his life to building and maintaining. He lies in bed and stares at the photo and smiles. His brain says let it go, sell it. His heart says no. His sense of reason and his brain tell him to do it. His heart says no. Whenever he allows himself to hear it, his heart says no, no, no. All day long, everyday, his heart screams no. (…) he lies in bed and stares at the photo and smiles. His brain says let it go, sell it. His heart says no.His heart says no.”

“At some point Ewan had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were bulging with muscle, and his shoulders appeared likely to rip through the thin linen of his shirt. Annabelle swallowed, thinking of Ewan without his shirt at their picnic. He wasn't even breathing hard."Where do you get all these muscles?" she asked."Lifting damsels in distress." He grinned at her, and there was a slight lurch as he leaped off the carriage and landed with a splash in the ditch.”

“This is a man in need. His fear is naked and obvious, but he's lost. . . Somewhere in his darkness.His eyes wide and bleak and tortured. I can soothe him. Join him briefly in the darkness and bring him into the light.”

“Do you know what you mean to me?" he murmurs, "If something happened to you, because of me..." His voice trails off, his brow creasing, and the pain that flashes across his face is almost palpable. He looks so vulnerable - his fear very much apparent.”

“His eyes were dimmed with tears and, looking humbly up to heaven, he wept for the innocence he had lost.”