Candy and a piece of that book.
He kept no councils; partook of nobody’s advice. If he was planning a war, then it was not with the assistance of his generals. If he was planning murder, then he did not look to the advice of assassins.
The only clue to the subject of his present meditations was a name that did not yet mean anything much to those who heard it, but very soon would.
The name he spoke was Candy. He said it to himself not once but many times, as though repetition would somehow summon up the owner and bring her near to him.
But she did not come. For all his power, Christopher Carrion was alone at Midnight, having nothing for company but the vultures at his heels, and the nightmares at his lips, and the echoes of that name he spoke, over and over again.
- Clive Barker, The Books of Abarat (via chasteblowjay)
- Melissa Quackenbush, Abarat: Absolute Midnight (via pteropus717)
[wow so ididnt see this before sorry!]
er shipped…?oh paired with okay uh
I’m not not okay with Malingo…
not with Carrion defiantly that’d be…..weird……
although i have thought about it…
“Even if you open that door there’s nowhere for you to go. There’s just snow up there. You’ll freeze to death in a matter of minutes.”
Well, Carrion, maybe you shouldn’t follow her out there when you’re wearing what is essentially a giant ice cube tray around your own face.
I dreamed a limitless book,
A book unbound,
Its leaves scattered in fantastic abundance.
On every line there was a new horizon drawn,
New heavens supposed;
New states, new souls.
One of those souls,
Dozing through some imagined afternoon,
Dreamed these words.
And needing a hand to set them down,
~ Clive Barker, Abarat
“Oh little one,
My little one,
Come with me,
Your life is done.
Forget the future,
Forget the past,
Life is over:
Breathe your last.”