Open Your Books to Page 89.

I was born in '89, and there's usually some meat to a story by then. Let's see what we can find, shall we?

[severalchaptersin]

In the smoky darkness of their hall, that night, the bard sang them the old songs.

He sang of Odin, the all-father, who was sacrificed to himself as bravely and as nobly as others were sacrificed to him. He sang of the nine days that the all-father hung from the world-tree, his side pierced and dripping from the spear- point (at this point his song became, for a moment, a scream), and he sang them all the things the all-father had learned in his agony: nine names, and nine ruins, and twice-nine charms.

[severalchaptersin]

And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like.

The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

[severalchaptersin]

“She’s excellent,” says Peeta.

My father buys her squirrels. He always comments on how the arrows never pierce the body. She hits every one in the eye. It’s the same with the rabbits she sells the butcher. She can even bring down deer.

     This assessment of my skills from Peeta takes me totally by surprise. First, that he ever noticed. Second, that he’s talking me up. “What are you doing?” I ask him suspiciously.

     “What are you doing? If he’s going to help you, he has to know what you’re capable of. Don’t underrate yourself,” says Peeta.

[severalchaptersin]

The woman spoke for the first time.

“Her,” she whispered.  “She’s a girl.  Her name is Rachel.”

     Mama smiled and helped her direct the sleeping baby’s arms into the sleeves of the sweater.  Together they buttoned the heart-shaped buttons—how Kirsti loved that sweater, with its heart-shaped buttons!—until the tiny child was completely encased in the warm red wool.  Her eyelids fluttered, but she didn’t wake.

[severalchaptersin]

Jonas listened.

He was very aware of his own admonition not to discuss his training.  But it would have been impossible, anyway.  There was no way to describe to his friends what he had experienced there in the Annex room.  How could you describe a sled without describing a hill and snow; and how could you describe a hill and snow to someone who had never felt height or wind or that feathery, magical cold?

[severalchaptersin]

“Percy Jackson,” Annabeth said, “meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares.”

     I blinked. “Like...the war god?”

     Clarisse sneered. “You got a problem with that?”

     “No,” I said, recovering my wits. “It explains the bad smell.”

     Clarisse growled. “We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy.”

     “Percy.”

     “Whatever. Come on, I’ll show you.”

     “Clarisse--” Annabeth tried to say.

     “Stay out of it, wise girl.”

     Annabeth looked pained, but she did stay out of it, and I didn’t really want her help. I was the new kid. I had to earn my own rep.

[severalchaptersin]

I looked down at my hands wrapped around the lemonade bottle, not sure what to do now.

     “What are you thinking?” he asked curiously.

     I looked up into his deep gold eyes, became befuddled, and, as usual, blurted out the truth.

     “I’m trying to figure out what you are.”      His jaw tightened, but he kept his smile in place with some effort.

     “Are you having any luck with that?” he asked in an offhand tone.

     “Not too much,” I admitted.

[severalchaptersin]

“I have pain in my hip and long walks are a thing of the past.

One day you’ll discover for yourself how strength seeps away, but I’m neither morbid nor senile.  I’m not obsessed by death, but I’m at an age when I have to accept that my time is about up.  You want to close the accounts and take care of unfinished business.  Do you understand what I mean?”

[severalchaptersin]

One Christmas I lurked in corners nursing a twisted splinter in my foot, permitting no one to come near me.

 When Uncle Jack caught me, he kept me laughing about a preacher who hated going to church so much that every day he stood at his gate in his dressing-gown, smoking a hookah and delivering five-minute sermons to any passers-by who desired spiritual comfort.  I interrupted to make Uncle Jack let me know when he would pull it out, but he held up a bloody splinter in a pair of tweezers and said he yanked it while I was laughing, that was what was known as relativity.

[severalchaptersin]

Exhausted and frustrated, Kate flung herself down on the bed to think.

Ever since she had asked for her guardian’s help, things had gotten worse and worse.  He had practically accused her of insanity in front of her aunts, he had instructed them to throw her out of the house after dark, and now he had locked her up in a room perfect for goblin attack.  Short of delivering her tied up to the goblins’ front door, Kate couldn’t think of anything worse he could do.  Of course, she concluded miserably, he would say that he just wanted her to face her fears.  She was pretty sure that was exactly what she would be doing once twilight came again.

[severalchaptersin]

“Where are you going?”  demanded Catherine, advancing to the door.

     He swerved aside, and attempted to pass.

     “You must not go!” she exclaimed energetically.

     “I must and shall!” he replied in a subdued voice.

     “No,” she persisted, grasping the handle: “not yet, Edgar Linton: sit down; you shall not leave me in that temper.  I should be miserable all night, and I won’t be miserable for you!”

     “Can I stay, after you have struck me?” asked Linton.

     Catherine was mute.

     “You’ve made me afraid and ashamed of you,” he continued.  “I’ll not come here again!”

     Her eyes began to glisten, and her lids to twinkle.

[severalchaptersin]

The man was about to tell her more when he caught sight of Lyra.

She stared back at him unblinkingly, and perhaps he had had a little too much to drink, or perhaps he was keen to impress the young woman, for he said:

     “This little lady knows all about it, I’ll be bound.  You’re safe from the Oblation Board, aren’t you, my dear?”

     “Oh, yes,” said Lyra.  “I’m safe from everyone here.  Where I used to live, in Oxford, there was all kinds of dangerous things.  There was gyptians--they take kids and sell ‘em to the Turks for slaves.  And on Port Meadow at the full moon there’s a werewolf that comes out from the old nunnery at Godstow.  I heard him howling once.  And there’s the Gobblers....”

     “That’s what I mean,” the man said.  “That’s what they call the Oblation Board, don’t they?”

     Lyra felt Pantalaimon tremble suddenly, but he was on his best behavior.  The daemons of the two grownups, a cat and a butterfly, didn’t seem to notice.

[severalchaptersin]

“I’m sorry, Sookie,” he said quietly.

     “For what?”  My own voice was just as low.  Was he going to acknowledge what had passed between us -- or rather, failed to pass?

     For sending you to check on Dawn.  I should have come myself.  I was sure she was just shacking up with someone new and needed a reminder that she was supposed to be working.  The last time I had to come get her, she yelled at me so much I just didn’t want to deal with it again.  So, like a coward, I sent you, and you had to find her like that.”

     “You’re full of surprises, Sam.”

[severalchaptersin]

The Goat closed his eyes.

“I’m not married, Miss Galinda.  But I might be.  Or I may.  Or perhaps I have nieces and nephews.  They have already been banned effectively from studying at Shiz because they can’t hold a pencil to write an essay with.  How many Animals have you ever seen in this paradise of education?”  Well, it was true; there were none.

     Well, I do think it’s pretty dreadful,” said Galinda.  “Why would the Wizard of Oz do such a thing?”

     “Why indeed,” said the Goat.

[severalchaptersin]

Pandora’s Box

[severalchaptersin]

As our buggy wound its way up through the bottoms, Grandpa started talking.

“You know, Billy,” he said, “about this tree-chopping of yours, I think it’s all right.  In fact, I think it would be a good thing if all young boys had to cut down a big tree like that once in their life.  It does something for them. It gives them determination and will power.  That’s a good thing for a man to have.  It goes a long way in his life.  The American people have a lot of it.  They have proved that, all down through history, but they could do with a lot more of it.”

[severalchaptersin]

Now a strange mood took hold of me, as I walked silent and alone through the last of the pines and the cypress knees that seemed to float in the black water, the gray moss that coated everything. It was as if I traveled through the landscape with the sound of an expressive and intense aria playing in my ears. Everything was imbued with emotion, washed in it, and I was no longer a biologist but somehow the crest of a wave building and building but never crashing to shore.