ŷ������

“Okay, Eliza. Now–you know–rise up! Think about those buffalos," Abby said.
"Walking backward," added Ben.
"Wearing diapers!" Ricky reminded her, giggling with glee.
"I know how to do it!" Eliza snapped.”
― David Pogue, Abby Carnelia's One & Only Magic Power: Library Edition

“I'm here to give a tithe," she told the Heartwood. "I give you my voice---and with it, my dreams beyond the woods. I'll be your new Song Mage, if you'll have me."
Breathing in sharply, Emeline thought of the cost. She would never again sing her songs beneath the lights. Never walk out on a new stage or record an album she was proud of. She would never get the chance to prove she could make it on her terms.
Emeline breathed out, letting it go.
It hurt when the woods took her offering. Like hands reaching in and plucking out her soul, severing her from her oldest dream.
But when she breathed, something new flooded in.
It felt like the night she sang to the elm tree cage, asking the trees to set Hawthorne free. She'd felt the power in her voice flow out of her that night. This time, though, it was the reverse. Power was flowing in. Infusing her marrow and blood. Folding itself into her skin.
It was like Grace said: there was magic in sacrifice. Emeline had tithed the most precious thing she owned, and something equally precious was filling in the gaps.
It coursed through her---thick as honey, bright as starlight. Pushing like a blazing-hot sun. Humming like a swarm of contented bees.
Power.
It tasted like sugared sunshine on her tongue.”
― Kristen Ciccarelli, Edgewood

“I know this is important to you, Jonah," Lord Torrant said softly. "But there is no more to say on it. You know I would not hide the truth from you, don't you? You know you can trust me."
Commander Sulemon nodded, though doubt nestled within his mind, barely acknowledged by his conscious thoughts.”
― Lucy A. McLaren, Awakening

“I'm here. You're not alone.
He smiled tightly, appreciating Cara's attempt at reassurance.
Unfortunately, there were some things she could never truly understand. How it felt to kill a man, no matter the circumstance, would always be one of them.”
― Lucy A. McLaren, Awakening

“Leave me,�� he groaned in pain. “Run.”
His face paled, blood dribbling between his lips as he coughed.

I’d seen death on people’s faces more times than I could count. Death had a way of revealing people’s true natures. Some people begged, some threatened, some tried to bargain. And this idiot I didn’t even know was dying and still trying to help me. I hated him for it.��

He started trying to talk again, grabbing at my hands. ��

“Shut up, dumbass,�� I hissed at him, pressing harder at his wound. ��

He cried out in pain, but his cry cut off as the familiar warmth spread from my chest down my arms and into his stomach. The bullet had gone clean through his gut. Normally a death wound, but not tonight. I could feel his body mending beneath my fingers, all the muscles and organs knitting themselves back together. His hand curled over the top of one of mine, squeezing gently, and I glanced up to see his eyes full of awe. The wound closed shut, leaving what I knew would be a fresh pink scar, and all the warmth left me.”
― K.L. Speer, Bones

“What’d you mean when you said it would never be enough?�� ��

The sudden change in topics made me nauseous.��

“It’s…nothing,�� I lied.��

“You can tell me,�� he urged.��

“I…I just…�� Gods, those damn brown eyes made it hard to think straight. “I have a lot of blood on my hands.�� ��

He frowned.��

“I have this…this power to heal…but I keep…I keep hurting people. I don’t know…I don’t know if I can heal enough…to make up for it.�� ��

“Are you keeping score?�� he asked, but not in a mocking way. He studied my face, his brow furrowed as though he wanted to understand.��

“No. I don’t know. I just…I want to…I need to balance the scales.”��

“What scales?�� ��

“The…scales.�� I gestured vaguely with one hand, my face heating. ��

“Do you feel responsible every time you can’t heal someone?”��

“I've watched so many people die," I whispered. "People I could've saved with my powers."��”
― K.L. Speer, Bones

“It was clear that Meredith was special. Extraordinary, like Redbud had been. A conjurer.
And then there was Cliff. The first seer in the family in five generations. He could see snatches of the future, but also people's emotions and the hidden qualities of things.
They, not Lee, would be the ones to perpetuate the tradition and continue Belva's work. Lee would always be there to support them and to spend a day or a night around the fire. But she didn't want to dedicate her life to it.
Lee had started looking at the counseling graduate program at the university a few hours away. She may not be powerful like her mother or Meredith, but she could roam around a person's internal landscape. She wanted to help people like her mother. She knew how seemingly impossible it was to treat addiction, and that was a challenge she wanted to meet. The quest for knowledge was where she'd thrived all those years ago, and she wanted to return to it. That was where she belonged. And now she would use it to serve her community, as generations of Bucks had done before her.”
― Alli Dyer, Strange Folk

“Tremors rippled through the cavern like a burrow dug up, but I was not waiting prey.”
― Kailey Bright, Unity