“Dear Artie: “The young fellow has disappeared into a dead end. I think the long-necked bastard planned to wind up in Paris and sent him there but he may also have used the underground railroad. Ask your round-heeled contact. Maybe you can find more than I could. “Roy”

“That name was a sadistic play on the Underground Railroad that smuggled American slaves north. The old Nazis set up their own version and used it mainly to move their people. They called it Die Spinne.”

“Maybe even Mom wouldn't get it - why I doubt. Why I question. Maybe no one can understand what this feels like but me. I touch my neck, the spot where the cross charm hangs on Mom's neck. No one can understand because . . . they really don't know any better than I do. No matter what they think, how sure they are they've got everything figured out, they're as in the dark as I am.”

“So, did you see that community center I was talking about?”“What? Where?”“We walked right past it, just before that grocery store. I mentioned it on the way to the city? You just drop in and take classes. They’ve got all sorts of stuff. I bet you can get a student rate, even.”“But I’m not a student—”“You’re young enough that they’ll assume—”“—and how am I supposed to find the time to take dance classes, now that I’m the dessert?”“I’m starting to really regret using that metaphor,” Silas says, grinning. “And let me explain something, Rosie.” He takes a swig of the coffee and presses his lips together, searching for words. “I’m from a long, long, long, long line of woodsmen. My brothers are all supertalented. They all built their own rooms. For god’s sake, Lucas built a freaking wooden hot tub in his bedroom with wooden monkeys pouring water into it.”“Monkeys?”“Don’t ask. Anyway, I can do some woodworking. I know my way around the forest, I can handle an ax better than most, I can make a tree grow where nothing else will, I can live off berries and hunt for my food, and I’ve known about the Fenris since I could crawl. I’m a woodsman, for all intents and purposes. But that doesn’t mean I live for it any more than the fact that you’re good at hunting means you have to live for that. So maybe breaking out of the hunting lifestyle for a few hours here and there will help you figure out if it’s really for you or not.”I shake my head, confused as to why he’d even think that was possible. “I can’t just not hunt, Silas. So yeah, I take a few random classes, and what if I decide that I hate hunting and want to quit? That doesn’t mean I can. I owe Scarlett my life, and if she wants to cash in by having me spend my life hunting beside her, so be it. It’d kill her if she ever thought I wanted to quit.”“Rosie,” Silas says quietly. “I’m not suggesting you drop your sister like a bad habit and take up intense ballet training.”

“what did you think would happen—best case? She’ll forget about you when you return to Caliban, you know that. Or do you think she won’t wish, that you can stay here with her? That for the rest of her life, she’ll put you above getting whatever she wishes for? Even better—that for the rest of her life, she won’t slip up and say something like ‘I wish it would stop raining’? You can’t win this. In the end, you’ll be in Caliban. She’ll forget you. And whatever ‘friendship’ you think you have will be gone. Relationships are not for immortals. A bird and a fish may long for each other, but where could they live?”

“I think we’re always looking for new pieces,” Viola says quietly. What?She continues, “I was looking for Lawrence, then for something to replace Lawrence, then for Aaron… maybe that’s the real truth about being broken. We’re always whole, we’re just looking to add on to ourselves, to be more whole. And then when a piece leaves, it’s broken away. But we aren’t left any less whole than we were to begin with…”“But feeling broken—” I begin, the words tight in my throat. I’m grateful that Viola cuts me off. “Is horrible. Painful,” she finishes. “But then, when you aren’t expecting it, new pieces appear and suddenly…they’re attached.” Her eyes rise to meet mine. “And you end up more whole than you were before.”

“I became an ifrit to save the lives of my fellow jinn. What kind of life saver would I be if I let you sit here and wither away in paradise?” Just an obstacle. Just an obstacle. I meet the ifrit’s eyes. “What happened to all your talk about birds and fish having nowhere to live?” The ifrit shrugs. “I suggest you start holding your breath, my friend,” he says, then pushes through the hearing room doors.”