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Fire & Ice: The Kindred Woods

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Erin Forbes

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“The Republic of Lonoria is centered on the world of Noctorus, a planet tidally-locked to its sun surrounded by a moon of gold. They became one of the wealthiest places in the galaxy. They had a world of gold and then shattered it. They cast the entire economy of the galaxy into a sudden decline. Their city is all but abandoned on a dying world. All that remains are dark secrets of Erebus that I am not sure ought to be brought to light. She is a land of contradictions; the wealth of gold and the poverty of poor decisions. Fire and ice, shadow and light. It is best to be careful of people from such a land.”

“As it turned out, Cosima had quite a flair for flavor. She created things that shocked Kat, who had only ever followed her mother's more mundane recipes. One Saturday, Cosima made rosemary, stilton, and walnut bread and their father ran up and down the street after breakfast, telling his neighbors he was training for a marathon. Another Saturday her bacon and brie bread caused Peter Rubens to quit his sales job and revisit a great passion for pottery and carpentry that he'd long before abandoned. Kat personally puts her father's remarriage down to the chocolate and chili bread Cosima made when she was six, Kat liked her stepmother and loved that she was finally free to leave her father and little sister and go out into the world to live her own life.”

“In such an age of radical transition, the individual is driven back into his own consciousness. When the foundations of love and will have been shaken and all but destroyed, we cannot escape the necessity of pushing below the surface and searching within our own consciousness and within the 'collective unarticulated consciousness' of our society for the sources of love and will. I use the term 'source' as the French speak of the 'source' of a river—the springs from which the water originally comes. If we can find the sources from which love and will spring, we may be able to discover the new forms which these essential experiences need in order to become viable in the new age into which we are moving. In this sense, our quest, like every such exploration, is a moral quest, for we are seeking the bases on which a morality for a new age can be founded. Every sensitive person finds himself in Stephen Dedalus' position: 'I go forth... to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.”

“Everyone expected Emily to take care and take charge. It had always been this way. When her mother was sick, she'd filled out her own permission slips for school. When Jess signed up to bring home the kindergarten rabbit for the weekend, Emily took care of it. 'Look at Emily taking care of her sister,' her New Jersey aunts said to one another after the memorial service. There were no relatives from England. Her English grandparents had died before Emily was born, but the New Jersey aunts were full of admiration. 'What an angel. Look how good she is,' her father's sisters said. Emily knew she was not an angel, but the more she doubted, the better she behaved. At work she was the peacemaker. She wasn't just the chief executive officer of the company; she was the adult when her partners behaved like children.”

“Richard had sold Gillian's piano. He'd offered to ship it out to California, but neither Jess nor Emily played. Emily had quit her lessons at "Streets of Laredo" and Jess only got as far as "The Teddy Bears' Picnic." They had Gillian's jewelry, but she hadn't collected much. She had never liked necklaces or earrings. In fact, she'd never pierced her ears. She'd preferred a rosebush or two for her birthday, or a standing mixer. "This is very sticky dough," she would tell Emily as she rolled it out. "It's very difficult to work with this dough, because it's so short. You see?" She dusted the rolling pin and board with more flour and rolled briskly, as if to tame the stiff pastry, which she then cut into circles with an overturned teacup, or filled with honeyed poppy seeds, or spread into a glass pan to bake a cake with luscious prunes, their sweetness undercut with lemon. Nothing too sweet. That was the secret. Gillian said as much to Emily in her "Sixteenth Birthday" letter. 'Don't doctor recipes. More is less, and sugar will only get you so far.”

“I did think about a Ph.D. in computer science, but this is a time in industry where theory and practice are coming together in amazing ways. Yes, there's money, but what really interests me is that private-sector innovation happens faster. You can get more done and on a larger scale and have more impact. With all the start-ups out there, I think this is a time like the Renaissance. Not just one person doing great work, but so many feeding off one another. If you lived then, wouldn't you go out and paint?”