Charlie N. Holmberg Quotes

Emery was kneeling outside "gardening" when Ceony and Langston stepped through the illusion that masked the paper magician's house. He had positioned himself outside the curving garden of meticulously crafted paper flowers, and seemed to be replacing all the red, tulip-shaped flower heads with blue, lily-shaped ones. Fennel chewed on the discarded spells as Emery worked, crumpling them in his paper mouth and then spitting the balls into an overturned trash receptacle.

He was still as an oak trunk, silent as a candle.

Never trust what your eyes see at a magician's home, Miss Twill. You know that.

Matrona's heart retreated until it hit her spine, and she quivered with its every beat.

in the crook of her elbow as she went. Above her, over an apartment building and a tavern, she saw the expanse of a large square building with a flat roof and a single cylinder chimney. It was a tan-brick warehouse with dark broken windows. An abandoned bird's

Don't be ridiculous," Mg. Aviosky assured her as Magicians Katter and Hughes studied Mg. Thane lying on the floor by the light of four candles. "The only one who can manipulate Emery Thane's future is Emery Thane himself.

She tied a robe around herself even though she had no intention of leaving her room - one could never be too careful about avoiding Peeping Toms in a new place.

I always found bonding incredibly anticlimactic," Mg. Thane commented as he picked up the easel from the chair. "Do you want to save it?"
Ceony blinked a few times and held her bonding hand to her chest. "Save what?"
He shook the large paper in his hand. "Some find it sentimental."
"No," she said, perhaps a little too sharply. Mg. Thane didn't seem to notice and placed the paper against the wall, and the easel atop the table perfectly parallel to the paper stacks.

Ceony looked back up to see Lira grab Mg. Thane's collar and rip it down clear to his sternum, exposing his chest. "I'm finally leaving, dearie," she whispered, "and I'm taking you with me."
She plunged her right hand into his chest. Ceony stifled a cry. A golden ring of dust sparkled about Lira's wrist as Mg. Thane screamed between clenched teeth. Lira pulled her red-stained hand back out, clasping a still-beating heart between her bloodied fingers.

Ceony gaped in surprise. There, wagging its little paper tail, stood a paper dog.

All I knew to look for was a redheaded girl with strange magic. And you turned out to be Emery Thane's apprentice, of all people. How is the bugger? Still kicking, I hear.

Prit?" she asked. "The boy you bullied in school?"

Emery scratched the back of his head. "'Bullied' sounds so juvenile . . ."

"But it's him, isn't it?" Ceony pushed. "Pritwin Bailey? He became a Folder after all?"

Emery nodded. "We graduated from Praff together, actually. But yes, he's the same."

Ceony relaxed somewhat. "So you two are on good terms, then?"

The paper magician barked a laugh. "Oh, heavens no. We haven't spoken to each other since Praff, save for this telegram. He quite loathes me, actually."

Ceony's eyes bugged. "And you're sending me to test with him?"

Emery smiled. "Of course, in a few days. What better way to prove you had no bias than to place your career aspirations in the hands of Pritwin Bailey?"

Ceony stared at him a long moment. "I've been shot to hell, haven't I?"

"Language, love.

Anger. Infidelity. Death. Dark times - that's what these memories were. Ceony had passed through Emery's goodness and his hopes; it made sense to see his darkness, too. To see his hurts and his vices. To see the shadows cast behind those bright eyes.

She had fit him into a one-dimensional mold during their first meeting, and had done so with ease. Langston, too. How many others had she judged and set aside like that, thinking them no more than a one-sided piece of paper?

crust. It's strange, this story of mine. A tale that starts somewhere in chapter twenty and ends who knows where.

How do you feel?" Ceony asked, her pulse still thundering in her ears. It made her hands shake as she peeled and cut the cucumber. She forced herself to slow down so she wouldn't slice open a finger.
"Like someone has been tromping around in my chest, looking at things they shouldn't be looking at."
Her knife froze mid-slice. She met his eyes and saw knowledge behind their amusement.

A double-edged sword was more useful than no weapon at all.

It's like you have a checklist for dangerous criminals tucked into your pocket, and you won't be satisfied until you've had a personal encounter with each.

Hi, Ceony," he said. He then stiffened like a soldier and added, "Magician Thane, it's a pleasure to meet you finally."

Bennet took a few long strides and offered his hand to the paper magician, who stood taller in height by several inches. Emery shook the apprentice's hand with an amused twinkle in his eye. Bennet continued. "I've heard a great many things about you."

"And you still shook my hand?" Emery asked. "Your mother raised you well.

Fennel, giving up on Ceony's side of the bed, scampered over to Emery's feet and began tugging at his pant leg.

"Emery," Ceony said, pausing her breakfast, "what was that telegram about yesterday?"

"Hm?" he asked, shaking Fennel free. For a moment, Ceony imagined equipping the paper dog with more substantial teeth - plastic, or perhaps steel. The latter would likely weigh his head down. And what did Ceony need a dog with steel teeth for?

I'd like to see twenty-one links completed when I return. Threats on your well-being are poor excuses for missing homework!

He drew a happy face after that - two dots and a curving line - and signed his name.

I am made of feathers, of bubble soap, of wind and dandelion seeds.

You are the kind of woman who makes me believe in God, Ceony," he murmured. "I don't know how else it could be possible to find you. For heaven's sake, you even delivered yourself to my front door." She

Remember that you are much different now than you were an hour ago, Ceony. Before you merely read about magic; now you have it. Denying it won't make you return to ordinary.

You didn't 'instruct' me to stay," Ceony countered. "Just to leave the dining room. Which I did."
Mg. Aviosky rubbed the bridge of her nose under her glasses. "This feels very much like detention again, Ceony.

Then forgive yourself!" she shouted, pushing herself back up. She pressed her palm against the wall for support. "Everyone has a dark side! But it's their choice whether or not they cultivate it. Don't you understand? Lira's exploited hers, but not you. Not you, Emery Thane.

But how will I know if he's acting strange?" Ceony asked. "He's strange already." Mg.

but with their enemies either dead, jailed, or in a perpetual state of being frozen, danger had decided to leave them alone.

The heart had the dark to balance out the light, the uncertainty to balance dreams.

Sometimes, darling, you don't have to say it out loud.

No, you're not," he said, sounding much surer than she

She stared up into the beauty of his green eyes, and for a moment she saw everything there, all the pieces of his heart that she remembered so vividly, all the smiles and unspoken words she had earned since meeting him three months earlier.

Once a secret spread to too many minds and mouths, anyone could learn it - including

Less than a week had passed since Ceony had heard this,

Put it down," Ceony said. Clearing her throat, she repeated, "Put it down or I'll shoot you, I swear I will. I'm taking this heart back with me."
Lira's face turned to a scowl so gradually Ceony hardly saw it change. "I'm not letting some ginger tart take what's rightfully mine.

She swallowed hard, feeling like a stroke of paint on a canvas far too large for her to comprehend.

It was those dolls...so strange and disarming. Matrona had never seen their like before.

As far as magic went, she knew it was paper or nothing, and she'd rather be a Folder than a failure. She

Half?" Ceony asked. "How do you have half of an apprentice?

months of study to learn how to form the bones and joints so

Well," he said after a moment almost long enough to be awkward. He picked up the slices of cucumber and put them on the bread himself, then pulled a plate from the cupboard. Walking back to the table, he said, "Now we can finally have this meal, hm?"

"This meal?" Ceony asked, glancing at his bland sandwich. He took a bite of it without even bothering with mayonnaise. "Any meal I put thought into is levels above a cucumber sandwich. I could have been a chef, if you recall."

"Is that so?" he asked, taking another bite.

Ceony began to cut two slices of bread for herself, but paused halfway through the first. "Would you humor me for a moment?"

"I believe I've been humoring you since you walked through my front door," he replied.

Decide where you want your life to go before you set it rolling.

Matrona imagined her flush was made of thousands of biting ants, and the soft breeze blew them off her skin as she walked, carrying them back into the wood.

I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge."
"No need to remind me," Mg. Aviosky quipped just as a real person emerged from that second right, some sort of ledger in his hands.
"There are guests at the door," the man said, closing the ledger. The ensuing burst of air rustled his wavy black hair. In words pitched at a light baritone, he added, "And I would have thought the knock gave it away.

Mg. Thane held his fork loosely in his hand. "I'll not starve you, if that's your worry.

His laughter made me laugh, his thoughts made me think, and his silence made me listen to each intake of his breath.

She searched for a possible escape route should she need one and spied the paper skeleton immediately behind her and shrieked for the second time. Who needed ghosts to haunt a house when one could form his own demons out of paper?

She felt certain she could make the trip in a quarter hour on Emery's paper glider, but he insisted that the world wasn't ready for such eccentricity.

For if rice and tuna was his for-guests meal, Ceony couldn't imagine what the man ate when he dined alone. Perhaps Mg. Aviosky had assigned her here merely to ensure England's oddest paper magician got some decent nutrition and didn't wither away, leaving the country with only eleven paper magicians instead of twelve.

From her pocket she pulled a tiny snowflake, the one she had stowed there after her first day as a Folder. She rubbed her thumb over its tiny, delicate cuts, grateful she hadn't yet washed this particular skirt. The snowflake still felt frosty, just like real snow. Snow he had made for her. All of it had been for her in one way or another, hadn't it?
In the glow of the candlelight she said, "I have to do it. I have to save him."
For she knew no one else would.

On count two, she shouted, "I deserve a stipend after this!" The words echoed offbeat with the pulsing walls.

Secrets make friendships fonder, no?

Beside Thane - who watched the setting sun with such peace, with such light in his eyes - the "woman" seemed imaginary.
Because she is, Ceony realized, a second breeze tickling her skirt and blowing loose flower petals across her vision. These are the things Thane - Emery - hopes for.
She studied him, his peace and his contentment, the eyes that seemed to radiate life. She studied the shadowy woman beside him from head to foot. He wants to fall in love again.

How many men can honestly say a woman has walked their heart?" he asked. "But I can. And if you'll have me, I'd like you to stay there." Tears welled in Ceony's eyes. She didn't blink them away. Emery reached into his pocket and pulled from it a loop of white and violet paper about the width of his fist, made of dozens of tiny, crisscrossing links. Not a spell, just something crafted to be beautiful. From it hung a gold ring that glimmered rose in the sunlight. A diamond carved in the shape of a raindrop sat at its center, flanked on either side by a small emerald. The paper magician slipped the ring off the paper loop and turned it in his hands. Dropping to one knee, he said, "Ceony Maya Twill, will you marry me?" THE

raspy breaths. She pressed an ear to his chest,

Everyone is afraid of something, right?" The

Fold it like an animation. I'm sure you remember the rules."
Ceony nodded, but as Mg. Thane finished the last Folds, she saw up his loose coat sleeve to a bandage coiled thickly around his right forearm.
Something inside of her twanged, like a fiddle string had been stretched down her torso, fastened between throat and navel. With a soft voice, she asked, "What happened to your arm?"
Mg. Thane's fingers stilled. He glanced up at her, then to his arm. He pulled the sleeve down to the palm of his hand. "Just a bump," he said. "I often forget how much focus walking requires.

Where were you?" she asked before he turned the knob. He paused, and she clarified: "I came to the cottage last week to find you, to tell you about Reading, but you weren't there. Where were you?"
He glanced back at her. "You'll have to be more specific."
"Tuesday," she said. "I searched for a hint . . . waited, but you never came. I left the note on your windowsill."
A small smile touched his lips - almost a sheepish smile, of all things. Ceony had never before seen such an expression on his face. "Just out for a stroll.

In the farthest corner of the third floor, Jonto - Emery's skeletal paper butler - hung by a noose from a nail in the ceiling, hovering over a mess of rolled paper tubes, tape, and symmetrical cuts of paper. Emery, wearing his newest coat, a maroon-colored one, stood on a stool beside him, affixing a six-foot-long bat wing to Jonto's spine.

Ceony blinked, taking in the sight. She really shouldn't be surprised.

"I thought I had a few more years before I saw the angel of death," she said, folding her arms under her breasts. "Even just half of him.

Folding his arms, Mg. Thane leaned against the table and asked, "What is the story written on?"
"What sort of question is that?"
"The kind you should answer."
Ceony's eyes narrowed. His tone carried an air of chastisement, but his expression seemed lax enough. "It's obviously written on paper."
Mg. Thane snapped his fingers. "There we are! And paper is your domain now. So make it mean something. And calm down," he said, almost as an afterthought.

She didn't know where the factory was, but she didn't need to - the city unfolded itself before her just as every other vision had, directing her toward Emery Thane, for she ran through the secrets of his heart.

I can wait two years, she thought, turning the rose in her hand. I can wait two years for him, longer if need be. If he would ever love me, I'd wait my entire life.

The buggy should be here soon. Do you have your suitcase packed?"

"So eager to get rid of me?"

"Eager?" he repeated, rolling back the sleeves of his favorite indigo coat. "My kitchen will be empty in two days and I'll be forced to purchase my own groceries. How could I be eager for that?"

Ceony smiled and scooped out more egg. "You could always have Jonto cook your meals."

In fact, Emery once had tried to get Jonto to cook his meals. It had taken the paper magician two days to reconstruct the right hand and arm of the paper skeleton, which had burned off after Jonto attempted to light the coals in the oven.

"I'll be sure to stock up on sandwich supplies," Emery murmured.

And all you'll miss is the food, hm?"

His eyes glimmered. "I may miss the mid-night companionship."

Ceony flushed. "Emery Thane!" That was one time.

Emery just chuckled, the cursed man.

stepped away from it. What sort of morbid man constructed a butler out of paper? Was there no one else to answer the door? "Do

What is a soul if not an extension of the heart?

He swept a hand back through his dark hair, and in that moment Ceony saw a flicker in his eyes and a thinning of his lips. He was worried.
"Is everything . . . all right?" she asked, hesitating at the threshold of the library, unsure of her bounds.
"Hm?" he asked, his countenance smoothing between ticks of the library clock. "Quite fine. Do take care, Ceony." He walked down the hallway as far as the lavatory, where he turned around and added, "And keep the doors locked.

Ceony shut the book and glanced to her new teacher. "It's . . . amazing, but I admit it's also superficial. Aesthetic."
"But entertaining," he combated. "Never dismiss the value of entertainment, Ceony. Good-quality entertainment is never free, and it's something everyone wants.

I always saw novels as an outlet for which the mind can escape this world, not be tethered to it." "I

Then she shouted, "If you're going to get yourself killed, you could at least kiss me first!

Fennel licked her sleeves with his paper tongue and wagged his tail so fiercely she feared it would fly off his rump and land in the icebox.

But you can't die!" Ceony cried, and Mg. Thane didn't so much as flinch at the volume, or at the tear that struck him on the bridge of his nose. He didn't seem aware of her at all. "You have too much to teach me! And you're too nice to die!

He examined the paper, his eyes bobbing as he counted the pieces, and sighed, shoulders slumping. "I'm going to teach you something I really shouldn't be teaching you."
"But given the circumstances," she urged.
He nodded. His lip quirked. "Given the circumstances. Just pretend to forget it once this is over . . . if either of us makes it past this.

Why hello!" she said, and the dog jumped and pressed its front paws against her knees, then actually licked her with a dry, paper tongue. Ceony laughed and scratched behind its ears. It panted with excitement. "Wherever did you come from?"
The door squeaked again, announcing Mg. Thane's arrival. He looked a little tired, but no worse for wear, and still wore that long indigo coat. "This one won't give me hives," he said with a smile that beamed in his eyes. "It's not the same, but I thought it would do, for now."
Wide-eyed, Ceony slowly stood, the paper dog yapping in its whispery voice and nudging her ankles with its muzzle. "You made this?" she asked, feeling her ribs knit over her lungs. "This . . . this is what you were doing last night?"
He scratched the back of his head. "Were you up? I apologize - I'm not used to having others in the house again.

It's easiest to disguise what you're doing when you're shuffling or dealing," Emery explained, "or when your opponent is distracted by something that's cooking in the kitchen."
Ceony opened her mouth to protest, but instead closed it and shot him a disapproving look. He had won the game last Tuesday when Ceony had cinnamon rolls in the oven. She had been worried they would burn. Perhaps that's why Emery never kept the money she lost, regardless of the amount. The cheater.

Do you have any idea what it does to me when you put yourself in danger? And so willingly, no less!

Mad Olia had a lot to say, and most of it was nonsensical, if it could be understood at all. Like bad poetry spoken underwater.

She thought her ears would light with fire, her cheeks burn to ash, but the moment passed, as even the worst moments do.

But a man doesn't have to have dark magic to do dark things.

Emery nodded. "But I'm afraid you're now a week behind in your studies." "You told me I was two months ahead!" Ceony frowned. "A week behind," he repeated, as though not hearing her. And perhaps he didn't. Emery Thane had a talent for selective hearing, she'd learned. "I've determined it's best for you to study the roots of Folding.

Everyone has a dark side! But it's their choice whether or not they cultivate it.

She imagined Mg. Thane's hands over her own, guiding her Folds, and squinted in the candlelight to ensure all her edges aligned and all her creases were straight.

All she could do now was run . . . and figure out how to defeat an Excisioner who couldn't be killed.

Staggering to her feet, Ceony stomped her shoe down on the hand twice before it stopped moving. She stomped it twice more for insurance.

Monsters are only ever fascinating from afar.

Loud footfalls like sarcastic applause sounded in the hallway. Hard shoes with heels. Ceony stepped forward, but Mg. Thane held out his arm, stopping her. All the mirth had vanished from his face. He looked altered - not cheery nor distracted, but stony. Taller, and his coat seemed to bristle about him like a wild cat's fur.

Emery's eyes sparkled with amusement. Had she done something funny?
"I've determined that I will teach you to cheat at cards for the day's first lesson," Emery announced.
Ceony dropped her scissors. "I knew you were cheating!

Her entire body became a heartbeat.

something else - nostalgia, or something similar. Dolefulness, maybe?

Six days. The man had been gone six days, and that was all he had to say about it?

It stretched forever until it met a gray-blue sky lined with pale cerise, a sky perpetually caught in the moments before sunrise.

Crouching, Ceony felt the edge of the giant crack. None of it came away in her fingers, even when she scratched it with her nails. The rock stayed hard and firm. Another handful of sand dropped to the canyon floor, seeming to make no difference in the canyon's depth whatsoever. But Ceony knew that enough handfuls would fill it, eventually. After all, it took time to mend one's heart. Enough time could heal a heart as broken as this one. It was half-healed already.

These books you're reading . . . I question your taste, Miss Twill."

She straightened the collar of his maroon coat. "I'll read what I please, Mr. Thane."

"I have a suggestion," he said with a wry smile, stepping away and glancing back at the sunset, which had already grown ruddier. "I have a dissertation on eighteenth-century Folding basics on interlibrary loan. It's wonderfully dry and has all its nouns capitalized. I think you'll enjoy it."

Ceony frowned. "You want me to study primitive Folding techniques?"

"Only subprimitive," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "It never hurts to go back to basics, even if you think you know them."

"I do know them."

"Are you sure?"

Ceony paused. "Is this a hint for my test?

Focus on your target," Emery's voice spoke in her memory as he had during his quick lesson in the new spell. "Feel it in your mind like your story illusions. If you do, the stars will hit their mark." Reaching

to describe. It still felt like paper, of course - a medium

Perhaps," Mg. Katter cut in, "she's finally gotten smart. In and out, job done."
Mg. Hughes said, "No. Not her." He paused. "She knows Emery is critical to the syndicate, they all do. He's personally invested in it. That, and she's always kept a . . . keen . . . interest in him.

The heart pumped softly in her hands, it's PUM-Pom-poom rattling gently against her skin.
A means of living. The greatest spell she had ever crafted.
She said nothing. Even Mg. Aviosky didn't offer an explanation, which made Ceony wonder how far word of Emery's near demise had reached.
Mg. Bailey stared at the beating heart in Ceony's grasp.
And smiled.

Don't you see, Delilah?" she asked. "I need to wrap up this mess before anyone else gets hurt. I can do it. I know I can. But we have to leave now, while there's still time.