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398 pages, Kindle Edition
First published August 15, 2017
鈥淪ome worlds are built on a fault line of pain, held up by nightmares. Don't lament when those worlds fall. Rage that they were built doomed in the first place.鈥�
鈥淭hey鈥檙e afraid because we exist, she says, There鈥檚 nothing we did to provoke their fear, other than exist. There鈥檚 nothing we can do to earn their approval, except stop existing鈥攕o we can either die like they want, or laugh at their cowardice and go on with our lives.鈥�
鈥淏ut for a society built on exploitation, there is no greater threat than having no one left to oppress.鈥�
鈥溾€f you love someone, you don鈥檛 get to choose how they love you back.鈥�
鈥淚t鈥檚 just that love and hate aren鈥檛 mutually exclusive鈥�
鈥淲e could鈥檝e all been safe and comfortable together, surviving together, but they didn鈥檛 want that. Now nobody gets to be safe. Maybe that鈥檚 what it will take for them to finally realize things have to change.鈥�
鈥淗ow can we prepare for the future if we won鈥檛 acknowledge the past?鈥�
鈥淚 think,鈥� Hoa says slowly, 鈥渢hat if you love someone, you don鈥檛 get to choose how they love you back.鈥�
鈥淪he has seen him fight his own brutal nature, and the Earth itself, in order to be the parent she needs. He has helped her learn to love herself for what she is.鈥�
鈥淚 definitely haven鈥檛 been in the best place while working on this book, but I can say this much: Where there is pain in this book, it is real pain; where there is anger, it is real anger; where there is love, it is real love. You鈥檝e been taking this journey with me, and you鈥檙e always going to get the best of what I鈥檝e got. That鈥檚 what my mother would want.鈥� 鈥� N. K. Jemisin
鈥淚 think,鈥� Hoa says slowly, 鈥渢hat if you love someone, you don鈥檛 get to choose how they love you back.鈥�
Now they鈥檒l all know. Every season is the Season for us. The apocalypse that never ends.
And I will tell you everything of how, later, as the quiet of death descended, I whispered:
Right now.
Right now.
And the Earth whispered back:
Burn.
So where they should have seen a living being; they saw only another thing to exploit. Where they should have asked, or left alone, they raped.
For some crimes there is no fitting justice 鈥� only reparation. So for every iota of life siphoned from beneath the Earth's skin, the Earth has dragged a million human remnants into its heart. Bodies rot in soil, after all 鈥� and soil sits upon tectonic plates, plates eventually subduct into the fire under the Earth's crust, which convect endlessly through the mantle... and there within itself, the Earth eats everything they were. This is only fair, it reasons 鈥� coldly, with an anger that still shudders up from the depths to crack the world's skin and touch off Season after Season.
Some of them we can see breathing, though the motion is so very slow. Many wear tattered rags for clothes, dry-rotted with years; a few are naked. Their hair and nails have not grown, and their bodies have not produced waste that we can see. Nor can they feel pain, I sense instinctively; this, at least, is a kindness. That is because the sinklines take all the magic of life from them save the bare trickle needed to keep them alive. Keeping them alive keeps them generating more.
They keep such lax security on us. [鈥 Some of the sensors monitor our magic usage 鈥� and none of them, not one, can measure even a tenth of what we really do. I would be insulted if I had not just been shown how important it is to them that we be lesser. Lesser creatures don't need better monitoring, do they? Creations of Sylanagistine magestry cannot possibly have abilities that surpass it. Unthinkable! Ridiculous! Don't be foolish.
Fine. I am insulted. And I no longer have the patience for Stahnyn's polite patronization.
*Spoilers*
You know there's something wrong when a major character dies yet it leaves you unmoved.
Having cruised through the preceding serials, I was underwhelmed by this conclusion.
Not helping was the Info-dumping, likewise the glaring plot hole of the Onyx and Garnet Obelisk (read book one again to sess the inconsistency).
Additionally, the author's attempts at bringing some social issues to the fore was heavy handed, which is a shame really since the reader already caught on to these nuances right from the start of the series.
Overall, I didn't dislike how the story ended, I just didn't love it as much as the first two.
丌禺乇 賯氐賴 賲毓賱賵賲 丕爻鬲貙 賳蹖爻鬲責 丕诏乇 丕蹖賳鈥屫焚堌� 賳賲蹖鈥屫簇� 趩胤賵乇 丕賲讴丕賳 丿丕卮鬲 丕蹖賳噩丕 賳卮爻鬲賴 亘丕卮蹖 賵 亘賴 丕蹖賳 賯氐賴 诏賵卮 讴賳蹖責 诏丕賴蹖 趩诏賵賳诏蹖 蹖讴 丕鬲賮丕賯 禺蹖賱蹖 賲賴賲鈥屫� 丕夭 爻乇丕賳噩丕賲卮 丕爻鬲
鈥淚 think,鈥� Hoa says slowly, 鈥渢hat if you love someone, you don鈥檛 get to choose how they love you back.鈥�
鈥淗ow can we prepare for the future if we won鈥檛 acknowledge the past?鈥�
鈥淭o those who鈥檝e survived: Breathe. That鈥檚 it. Once more. Good. You鈥檙e good. Even if you鈥檙e not, you鈥檙e alive. That is a victory.鈥�
鈥淚 think,鈥� Hoa says slowly, 鈥渢hat if you love someone, you don鈥檛 get to choose how they love you back.鈥�
I鈥檓 tired, and overwhelmed, and perhaps a little angry. This day has upended my sense of self. I鈥檝e spent my whole life knowing I was a tool, yes; not a person, but at least a symbol of power and brilliance and pride. Now I know I鈥檓 really just a symbol of paranoia and greed and hate. It鈥檚 a lot to deal with.
(She is such a good child, at her core. Don鈥檛 be angry with her. She can only make choices within the limited set of her experiences, and it isn鈥檛 her fault that so many of those experiences have been terrible. Marvel, instead, at how easily she loves, how thoroughly. Love enough to change the world! She learned how to love like this from somewhere.)
鈥淭his isn鈥檛 what you think of it,鈥� Hoa says, and for an instant you worry that he can read your mind. More likely it鈥檚 just the fact that he鈥檚 as old as the literal hills, and he can read your face. 鈥淵ou see what was lost in us, but we gained, too. This is not the ugly thing it seems.鈥�
It seems like he鈥檚 going to eat your arm. You鈥檙e okay with it, but you want to understand. 鈥淲hat is it, then? Why 鈥︹€� You shake your head, unsure of even what question to ask. Maybe why doesn鈥檛 matter. Maybe you can鈥檛 understand. Maybe this isn鈥檛 meant for you.
So where they should have seen a living being, they saw only another thing to exploit. Where they should have asked, or left alone, they raped. For some crimes, there is no fitting justice鈥攐nly reparation.