Janner is alone in the dark, in the worst place in the world. He is angry and afraid. He is exhausted. He is near despair. And there is a traitor in his own heart, too.
But is he alone?
Protect.
The word came to him again and again, as steady as a drum beat. Indeed, it had been beaten into him since he was a baby. And now the rhythm of his mother’s word, his uncle’s word, drove back the anger—not completely, but enough that he thought less of his own misery and more of his brother’s.
He remembered old tales, stories about self-sacrifice and the way a single, beautiful act done for the sake of another could shine out across the dark of the ages like a breaking dawn. When he was little, he and Kal had made swords out of sticks and defeated dragons, Fangs, and villains, and Janner had lain awake in his bed at the Igiby cottage yearning to be one of those heroes. Maybe now the Maker was only giving him what he wanted. Maybe the Maker was answering the prayer of his little boy heart by leading him here and giving him the chance to live one of those stories.
—From chapter 61, “Alone in the Deeps of Throg.”
Have you also dreamed of being in a story? Does it give you strength?
Wherever you’re at in the series right now, whether you’re reading along with the book club or on your own, I’d love to hear what you loved best this week. Post an excerpt in the comments! And then come join us in the forum. 🙂
When facing unexpected difficulties, especially ones that have not been dealt with in one’s own lifetime, it is always a good idea to include the librarian in the council. Librarians KNOW things. Historians too.
They should make a point to include that in Durgan training from now on….a section on how to work with the bookbindery guild for unexpected strategic challenges.
As usual, I have too many selections. But this one should do nicely here.
Just so you know, Madame Sidler, I think they should have let you help. You probably could have found some strategies that they could have used.
“Where did all those blasted ships come from?” Guildmaster Clout said, banging his fist on the table.
Madame Sidler, the head librarian, peeked her head around the corner. “May I help you?” she asked.
“For the fiftieth time, Sidler, no!” one of the men shouted.
Madame Sidler bustled away, looking deeply offended, as the council resumed.
Oh, I wish they would have, too. There is a great section of Books About Naval Tactics and Tree-Trimming just around the corner from that meeting room!