Free Product Key Microsoft office - Activation Code lifetime

Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen

Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (1) - Free ebook download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or Alex touched her fingers to the cracked railing, already. » Crack» Keygen» Patch» Serial key» AVS4YOU Software. Vole PDF Creator Pro Avs4you Reg Key Crack, Jan, 2, KB/s. Reprint of the original edition published by John Wiley & Sons, Inc., , in the Converter Slag of Copper Smelting Process. Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen

Related Videos

100% Crack Wondershare PdfElement -how to crack wondershare pdf element in window10 (हिन्दी)

Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen - mine very

Category: Office

Svi uredski softver i alati i Microsoft Office
Dostupan je ovdje

Remote Desktop Manager Enterprise With Crack

Remote Desktop Manager Enterprise Serial Key: Omogućuje vam centralizirati sve vaše udaljene veze, lozinke i vjerodajnice u jedinstvenu platformu koju ljudi vole raditi

PDF Replacer Pro With Crack

PDF Replacer Crack je PDF tekst koji zamjenjuje uslužni program za softver na temelju sustava Windows. S ovim zgodnim alatom možete jednostavno zamijeniti tekst u više pdf

Modern CSV With Crack

Moderna CSV Crack je fino podešena aplikacija. Dobro je razvijena i, u ovom trenutku, također bez grešaka. To znači da nećete naći bilo kakve performanse

WYSIWYG Web Builder With Crack

WYSIWYG WEB Builder Crack daje veliku raznolikost vrhunaca za stvaranje živih mjesta. To podrazumijeva da nikada više ne zahtijevaju mnogo vremena

Next FlipBook Maker Pro With Crack

Sljedeći Flipbook Maker Pro licencni ključ besplatno preuzimanje je Flash / HTML5 interaktivna softverska aplikacija. Pretvorite PDF u interaktivne i realne brošure u Flash i HTML5

VMware Workstation Pro Build (x64) Lite With Crack

VMware Workstation Pro Key je jedan od najboljih hipervisor ili VMM (virtualni strojnica) diljem svijeta. Ona podržava Windows operativni sustav kao

ProPresenter () With Crack

PROPRESENTER Crack je ime moćnog softvera u profesionalnom području multimedijske prezentacije. Kao što znate, Microsoftov službeni alat PowerPoint je prihvaćen od strane

OfficeSuite Premium With Crack

Officesoite Premium ključ pruža alate za uredu s čistim izgledom i jednostavnim opcijama. Program vam omogućuje stvaranje, pregled, pretvaranje i uređivanje riječi, Excel i

Office C2R Install / Install Lite (Windows And Activator)

Office C2R Instalacija - Ovaj program omogućuje odabir / instaliranje željene aplikacije, za razliku od C2R originalnog sustava Office Installer i aktiviranje alloverlimo.us stupca instalira

DeepL Pro With Crack

Deepl Pro Crack - brže, sigurnije, bolje. Oslobodite punu snagu najboljeg svjetskog online prevoditelja za vas i vaš tim. Isprobajte

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

How To Use Microsoft office Product Key

To using MS office , your system needs to fulfill some of the requirements.

  • Go to this link  to find out the requirement and then jump to the steps.
  • Click the plus sign in the upper right corner of the same page.
  • Enter your Outlook email address and password to download the settings.
  • Lastly, enter the product key from the list bellow and enjoy Office

For more help click here: alloverlimo.us

Free Product Key Office Pro Plus 

6KTFN-PQH9H T8MMB-YG8KTX

2MNJP-QY9KX-MKBKM-9VFJ2-CJ9KK

2B8KN-FFK6J-YWMV4-J3DYYF29

DMXHM-GNMM3-MYHHK-6TVT2-XTKKK

X2YWD-NWJPGD6-M37DP-VFP9K

N2PXV8HD-W9MHF-VQHHH-M4D6X

N7PXY-WR4XP-D4FGK-K66JH-CYQ6X

FBFPP-2XG5Y-FG9VH-DVQ2Z-QJRCH

P8TFP-JGFMM-XPV3X-3FQMK4RP

2MHJR-V4MR2-V4Z2YMQ7-KC6XK

HC-BM4VK-TZBB8-MVZH8-FXR32

KDVQM-HMNFJ-P9PJXHDF-DJYGX

NX-BQ62X-PQT9G-GPX4H-VT7TX

4HNBKMH-6CR6P-GQ6WP-J42C9

6KTFN-PQH9H T8MMB-YG8KTX

KBDNM-R8CD9-RKWFM3X-C7GXK

MH2KNKYR-GTRD4-KBKP4-Q9JP9

2MNJP-QY9KX-MKBKM-9VFJ2-CJ9KK

N4M7D-PD46X-TJ2HQ-RPDD7-T28P9

NK8RVXCQ 3M2FMR-WFD6X

Active Office Personal Product Key

VQCRC-J4GTW-T8XQW-RX6QG-4HVG4

VTM6G-YPQ9Q-BVYJQRYH-R4X38

X2YWD-NWJPGD6-M37DP-VFP9K

4HNBKMH-6CR6P-GQ6WP-J42C9

GPT9W-CWNJK-KB29G-8V93J-TQ

NK8RVXCQ 3M2FMR-WFD6X

PBTFM-WWN3H-2GD9X-VJRMG-C9VTX

N4M7D-PD46X-TJ2HQ-RPDD7-T28P9

DJC4N-DX7PC-GM3GK-V8KKW-XWYGX

MTDNG-PDDGD-MHMV4-F2MBY-RCXKK

46DNX-B4QPQVPW-Q8VM6-FVR29

GYWDG-NMV9PHR-Y2VQW-YPXKK

2MNJP-QY9KX-MKBKM-9VFJ2-CJ9KK

N7PXY-WR4XP-D4FGK-K66JH-CYQ6X

NX-BQ62X-PQT9G-GPX4H-VT7TX

MH2KNKYR-GTRD4-KBKP4-Q9JP9

N2PXV8HD-W9MHF-VQHHH-M4D6X

7TPNM-PMWKF-WVHKV-GH-9BQ6X

DMXHM-GNMM3-MYHHK-6TVT2-XTKKK

XRNFT-HG2FV-G74BP-7PVDC-JB29K

6KTFN-PQH9H T8MMB-YG8KTX

6HDB9-BNRGY-J3FCF43C-D67TX

2B8KN-FFK6J-YWMV4-J3DYYF29

KBDNM-R8CD9-RKWFM3X-C7GXK

WTFN9-KRCBV-2VBBH-BCGXM

KDVQM-HMNFJ-P9PJXHDF-DJYGX

PNP4F-KY64B-JJF4P-7R7JXJP9

G9N3P-GRJK6-VM63J-F9MKHGXK

NF-H7TMK-TPMPK-W4FGW-7FP9K

Product Key Office Personal Version Key

3W3MQ-H7M6X-3WYP7-TPCHG8T2

VB48G-H6VK9-WJ93D-9R6RM-VP7GT

Product Key  Office Personal Licence Key

VKCK7XK4-J7CTQ-FD98Q-VJW4R

P8TFP-JGFMM-XPV3X-3FQMK4RP

2MHJR-V4MR2-V4W2YMQ7-KC6XK

Product Key For Microsoft Office

B9GN2-DXXQC-9DHKT-GGWCR-4X6XK

N7PXY-WR4XP-D4FGK-K66JH-CYQ6X

4HNBKMH-6CR6P-GQ6WP-J42C9

2MNJP-QY9KX-MKBKM-9VFJ2-CJ9KK

2B8KN-FFK6J-YWMV4-J3DYYF29

XRNFT-HG2FV-G74BP-7PVDC-JB29K

N4M7D-PD46X-TJ2HQ-RPDD7-T28P9

FCMXC-RDWMP-RFGVD-8TGPD-VQQ2X

PBTFM-WWN3H-2GD9X-VJRMG-C9VT

6KTFN-PQH9H T8MMB-YG8KTX

DJC4N-DX7PC-GM3GK-V8KKW-XWYGX

DJDDFKD9-FJD94JDFJKD94JD

DJKSE-DFJSDFJKD94JD-DJKD94JD

6PMNJ-Q33T3-VJQFJD3H-6XVTX

PGDJN23K-JGVWW-KTHP4-GXR9G

MT7YN-TMV9C-7DDXWB7R4D

Click here to check the lastest Free Product Key

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

Advances in Molten Slags, Fluxes, and Salts: Proceedings of the 10th International Conference on Molten Slags, Fluxes and Salts

Introduction

This collection focuses on ferrous and non-ferrous metallurgy where ionic melts, slags, fluxes, or salts play important roles in industrial growth and economy worldwide. Technical topics included are: thermodynamic properties and phase diagrams and kinetics of slags, fluxes, and salts; physical properties of slags, fluxes, and salts; structural studies of slags; interfacial and process phenomena involving foaming, bubble formation, and drainage; slag recycling, refractory erosion/corrosion, and freeze linings; and recycling and utilization of metallurgical slags and models and their applications in process improvement and optimization. These topics are of interest to not only traditional ferrous and non-ferrous metal industrial processes but also new and upcoming technologies.

Keywords

ferrous metallurgy non-ferrous metallurgy thermodynamics industry slag and salt

Editors and affiliations

  • Ramana G. Reddy
  • Pinakin Chaubal
  • P. Chris Pistorius
  • Uday Pal
  1. alloverlimo.us University of AlabamaUSA
  2. alloverlimo.us R&DArcelorMittal USAUSA
  3. alloverlimo.usie Mellon UniversityUSA
  4. alloverlimo.us UniversityUSA

About the editors

The Minerals, Metals & Materials Society (TMS) is a member-driven international professional society dedicated to fostering the exchange of learning and ideas across the entire range of materials science and engineering, from minerals processing and primary metals production, to basic research and the advanced applications of materials. Included among its nearly 13, professional and student members are metallurgical and materials engineers, scientists, researchers, educators, and administrators from more than 70 countries on six continents. For more information on TMS, visit alloverlimo.us

Bibliographic information

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

Teachers Notes

Terciel and Elinor

Published: November

Bestselling novelist Garth Nix returns to the Old Kingdom for the never-before-told love story of Sabriel's parents, Terciel and Elinor, and the charter magic that brought them together - and threatened to tear them apart. A long-awaited prequel to a classic fantasy series.

The Astonishing Chronicles of Oscar from Elsewhere

Published: November

The magical fourth book in the rich and whimsical world of the Kingdoms and Empires about a non-magical boy called Oscar who finds himself caught up in a surprisingly urgent quest in an even more surprising world.

Somebody's Land: Welcome to Our Country

Published: November

An accessible picture book for young children that introduces First Nations history and the term 'terra nullius' to a general audience, from Australian of the Year, community leader and anti-racism advocate Adam Goodes and political adviser and former journalist Ellie Laing, with artwork by Barkindji illustrator David Hardy.

Noni the Pony Counts to a Million

Published: September

Noni the Pony has a lot of fun counting everything she sees on a happy summer's day! You may have met Noni already in Noni the Pony, Noni the Pony Goes to the Beach and Noni the Pony Rescues a Joey.

Dark Rise: Dark Rise 1

Published: September

The first book in a brilliant YA fantasy trilogy from internationally acclaimed Australian author CS Pacat.

Horrible Harriet and the Terrible Tantrum

Published: September

From the incredible imagination of Leigh Hobbs comes an original character and an old friend, in Horrible Harriet's wildest adventure yet.

Dragon Skin

Published: September

From the bestselling and multi-award-winning author of Lenny's Book of Everything comes a magical tale about a girl who saves a dragon and rescues her family.

Treasure in the Lake

Published: September

A fantasy-adventure graphic novel about two best friends and their discovery of a mysterious village, perfect for fans of Kazu Kibuishi's Amulet or Raina Telgemeier's Ghost.

It's Not You, It's Me

Published: August

A literally life-changing novel about time travel, soulmates and serial killers that asks a very big question: Can you ever change your fate? This is award-winning YA author Gabrielle Williams' most surprising, ambitious and dexterous book yet.

The Song of Lewis Carmichael

Published: August

A beautiful, illustrated adventure story with a classic feel, about a quiet boy and a talking crow on an extraordinary hot-air balloon ride to the Arctic.

A Trip to the Hospital

Published: August

A children's book that explores all the amazing things that happen inside a children's hospital and gives thanks to the many hardworking people that help keep us safe and well.

Underground

Published: August

Led by an unconscientiously objecting wombat registered for military service during Australia's war in Vietnam, Underground digs tunnels through a chapter of Australian history that many have attempted to bury.

We Go Way Back

Published: August

An entertaining and scientific exploration of the origin of life on Earth, from the award-winning author of Do Not Lick This Book and the bestselling illustrator of Who Am I?

The Inheritance

Published: August

A provocative call-to-arms to economic leaders to change course and better protect our planet and its people, presented in words and pictures by the multi-award-winning creator of The Island and The Mediterranean.

Sugar Town Queens

Published: August

From the award-winning author of the CBCA shortlisted When the Ground is Hard, comes a stunning portrait of a family divided and an uplifting story of how friendship saves and heals.

Who Fed Zed?

Published: July

A zany picture book about Ted, Ned and Fred, Fred's dog, Jed, and Fred's fish, Zed, from the hilarious author of The Book Chook and the illustrator of the phenomenally successful No One Likes a Fart.

Story Doctors

Published: July

An empowering story for all Australians, acknowledging our true history, embracing inclusivity, and celebrating the healing powers of nature and culture.

Flummox: How to Make a Pet Monster 2

Published: June

Doesn't everyone want their very own pet monster?
A fantastically readable, gloriously funny and collectable new junior fiction series.

The Boy Who Stepped Through Time

Published: June

An accidental trip back to the Roman Empire sets off a race against time to save a friendship - and a life. A thrilling time-slip adventure from a much-loved Australian author.

Sister of the Bollywood Bride

Published: June

For fans of Morgan Matson's Save the Date and Sandhya Menon's When Dimple Met Rishi (streaming as Mismatched on Netflix) comes a fun and lighthearted novel about one teen's summer tackling disasters including, but not limited to, family, romance, and weather - as she plans her sister's Bollywood-style Indian wedding.

The Other Side of Perfect

Published: May

A stunning and unique story about healing that offers a gentle hand to anyone who struggles with perfectionism, competition and an all-or-nothing mindset, as well as those who don't understand ambition.

Pawcasso

Published: May

A delightful graphic novel about friendship and belonging, starring the world's most adorable dog, perfect for fans of Raina Telgemeier's Guts.

Shackleton's Endurance

Published: May

Ernest Shackleton's remarkable story is a terrifying adventure with the happiest of endings - another brilliant narrative non-fiction Antarctic adventure featuring an explorer who was a true polar hero.

The Katha Chest

Published: March

A warm, child-centred exploration of family, history and connectedness.

Off the Map

Published: March

By turns dark and light, funny and poignant, this unforgettable collection of stories takes us right to the heart of what it means to be young in today's world, from a CBCA award-winning author.

Huda and Me

Published: March

A cheeky, fun and fast-moving tale of two Lebanese-Australian kids who decide to escape their horrible babysitter by running away…to the other side of the world.

Main Abija My Grandad

Published: March

A tribute to a much-loved grandfather, celebrating First Nations Australian culture, country and the circle of life. Told in Kriol and English.

Thunderbolt

Published: March

Second in a brand new action adventure series starring year-old Jack Courtney - a hero to rival Alex Rider - from worldwide bestselling author Wilbur Smith.

Waking Romeo

Published: March

What if Juliet Capulet met someone who made her doubt true love? What if Wuthering Heights was a message to a time traveller? A cosmic reimagining of Romeo and Juliet and homage to two literary classics in a compelling novel about fate, love and time travel from an award-winning author.

Mo and Crow

Published: March

Mo lives alone and he likes it that way…until Crow comes into his small and tidy life offering friendship. A gorgeous picture book with a powerful message.

Cuckoo's Flight

Published: March

When Clio's town in Bronze Age Crete is threatened by seafaring raiders, she faces the greatest sacrifice of all. Can Clio, her herd of horses and a new young friend find a way to change their destinies? Another wonderfully engaging historical middle fiction adventure from the author of Dragonfly Song and Nim's Island.

Tiger Daughter

Published: February

Wen Zhou is determined to create a future for herself that is more satisfying than the life her parents expect her to lead. Equal parts heartbreaking and hopeful, Tiger Daughter is a wonderfully compelling and authentic Own Voices novel about growing up Asian in Australia.

Iceberg

Published: February

An iceberg is born into spring and travels through the seasons before dying in a new spring. A stunning, lyrical story for our times, from renowned picture book creators Claire Saxby and Jess Racklyeft.

Ask Hercules Quick

Published: February

A hilarious and entertaining story about a boy who does a series of odd jobs for his eccentric neighbours, from the current Australian Children's Laureate and the bestselling creators of The Terrible Plop.

Genuine Fraud

Published: January

How far would you go to become someone else? A masterful young adult thriller from the author of blockbuster bestseller We Were Liars.

School Rules Are Optional: The Grade Six Survival Guide 1

Published: November

Jesse is in his final year of primary school and should be living it up as one of the 'Kings', but he can't even get his Prep buddy to follow school rules. A hilarious story of being undervalued and over everything for fans of Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Secrets of a Schoolyard Millionaire.

Catch Me If I Fall

Published: November

Ashleigh and Aiden are thirteen-year-old twins who promise to always look out for each other. Aiden is more dedicated to the task than Ashleigh, but when it comes to matters of life and death, they both exhibit a fierce protectiveness that will change the course of their lives.

Pierre's Not There

Published: November

A girl who transforms into a dog, a magic puppet show with the power to change lives and a story about the mysteries of the imagination from Ursula Dubosarsky, the Australian Children's Laureate.

Dog

Published: November

A beautifully poetic and gorgeously illustrated reflection on the relationship between dogs and humans. Dog is a stand-alone picture book of one of the most-loved stories from the bestselling and internationally acclaimed Tales from the Inner City by Shaun Tan, winner of the Kate Greenaway medal.

The Left-Handed Booksellers of London

Published: September

From the bestselling author of Angel Mage, this ABIA winner set in s London follows one girl's quest to find her father, leading her to a secret society of magical fighting booksellers who police the mythical Old World when it disastrously intrudes into the modern world.

Future Girl

Published: September

Future Girl explores what it means to come of age as a Deaf teenager, against the backdrop of a near-future Melbourne on the brink of environmental catastrophe.

The Stolen Prince of Cloudburst

Published: September

This CBCA Honour Book is a magical tale of mystery and adventure that proves that sometimes even ordinary middle children can be heroes, from the bestselling author of The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone and the award-winning The Slightly Alarming Tale of the Whispering Wars.

None Shall Sleep

Published: September

A riveting New York Times bestselling YA thriller that will keep readers on the edge of their seats from start to finish.

The Other Side of the Sky

Published: September

A magnetic and addictive tale of star-crossed love, inexplicable magic and an impossible choice. Science and faith collide in this tale of magic, destiny and the changing truths found through love by the award-winning authors of the bestselling Starbound trilogy.

Aunty's Wedding

Published: September

A Tiwi-Island girl prepares for Aunty's wedding with help from her maningawu in this vibrant picture book by the popular actor and writers of Top End Wedding and the highly acclaimed illustrator of Alfred's War.

The Erasure Initiative

Published: August

A brilliant psychological thriller from one of Australia's finest YA authors.

Diamonds

Published: August

A thought-provoking conversation about the diamond industry presented in words and pictures by the multi-award-winning creator of The Island and The Mediterranean.

A Clue for Clara

Published: August

Can a scruffy chicken crack a crime? Perhaps, if she's a genius like Clara. An egg-cellent novel about a small chook and a big crime by the highly-acclaimed author of Ella and the Ocean.

Across the Risen Sea

Published: August

Across the Risen Sea is an action-packed, compelling and heartfelt middle-fiction adventure, set in a post-climate change landscape, from the multi-award winning author of How to Bee.

Alphabetical Tashi

Published: July

Meet Tashi, everyone's favourite boy, in this alphabetical journey that introduces readers to the wonderful world of Tashi.

Shoestring, the Boy Who Walks on Air

Published: June

A gripping illustrated adventure about a travelling circus troupe, a future-telling macaw and a cursed pair of gloves that Shoestring must conquer once and for all. A companion to the award-winning KidGlovz.

Yellow Truck Road Train

Published: June

Vibrant artwork and a fabulous read-aloud text about a truck-driving, cattle-wrangling family navigating the roads and changing seasons of the Top End.

Too Many Cheeky Dogs (Bigismob Jigiwan Dog)

Published: June

Rediscover this much loved book featuring the cheeky antics of dogs in a remote outback community, and experience Kriol, a lively language from the north of Australia.

Messi Rules (Football Superstars)

Published: June

Everything the young fan wants to know about Lionel Messi, from his childhood to the present day, including lots of quizzes and facts.

Ronaldo Rules (Football Superstars)

Published: June

Everything the young fan wants to know about Cristiano Ronaldo, from his childhood to the present day, including lots of quizzes and facts.

Peta Lyre's Rating Normal

Published: April

At sixteen, neurodivergent Peta Lyre is the success story of social training. That is, until she finds herself on a school ski trip - and falling in love with the new girl. Peta will need to decide which rules to keep, and which rules to break.

Her Perilous Mansion

Published: April

Perfectly pitched standalone middle grade fantasy - exciting, intriguing and thoroughly satisfying.

More than a Kick

Published: April

In March , Tayla Harris went from rising AFLW star to the face of a movement. A photo of her mighty airborne kick was viciously attacked by trolls and Tayla chose to call out the online harassment. Six months later she was unveiling a bronze statue of her kick in the heart of Melbourne, inspiring girls and young women everywhere to stand strong and pursue the things they love.

Landing with Wings

Published: March

A young girl's nature diary is a joyful journey of discovery. From the multi-award-winning creator of Rivertime and Rockhopping comes another celebration of the world around us.

The Astronaut's Cat

Published: March

A delightful story that celebrates the wonders of the Moon, the curiosity of cats and the precious beauty of Earth.

The January Stars

Published: March

This thoroughly enjoyable novel about two sisters determined to help their grandfather will delight middle fiction readers of all ages. From the author of the bestselling and much-loved novels Crow Country & Cicada Summer.

There's No Such Thing

Published: March

A funny, warm and reassuring story from the internationally acclaimed creator of I Just Ate My Friend and Baz & Benz.

Deep Water

Published: March

A gripping mystery about a missing boy and a group of teenagers who know more than they're telling about the night he disappeared, from the award-winning author of Small Spaces.

Cloudburst

Published: March

Brand new Wilbur Smith series for readers of 11+ - starring fourteen-year-old Jack Courtney.

The Vanishing Deep

Published: March

Astrid Scholte, bestselling author of Four Dead Queens, brings fans a thrilling new standalone YA fantasy where the dead can be revived…for a price.

Are These Hen's Eggs?

Published: February

A sweet story of friendship and co-operation, unconditional love and a surprising egg hunt.

The Easter Bunnyroo

Published: February

A charming Australian Easter story about an Easter Bunny who turns out to be an Easter Bunnyroo, from a CBCA short-listed author!

The Chicken's Curse

Published: February

The amusing adventures of a runaway boy and girl, and a delightfully self-obsessed sacred chicken, by the bestselling author of Kisses for Daddy.

H is for Happiness

Published: January

Film tie-in edition of My Life as an Alphabet which is now the major Australian film, H is for Happiness. A delightful story of an unusual girl who goes to great lengths to bring love and laughter into the lives of everyone she cares about.

Monster Nanny

Published: January

Mary Poppins meets Where the Wild Things Are in this prize-winning book in which a contemporary family is turned upside-down when a hairy, earth-smelling creature said to be a trained nanny shows up at their doorstep. Soon to be a feature film.

The Beach Wombat

Published: December

An adventurous young wombat finds his way onto the beach before the rain arrives to send him home for dinner!

Paddy T and the Time-travelling Trampoline

Published: November

Paddy is a normal everyday kid, but what happens to him is anything but ordinary - welcome to the surprising, always entertaining world of Paddy T.

Funny Bones

Published: November

A bumper book to tickle your funny bone with over hilarious one-liners, jokes, shaggy dog tales as well as silly stories and wise-cracking cartoons from Australia's favourite comedians, children's authors and illustrators, that raises money for War Child Australia.

The Painted Ponies

Published: November

A little girl whose family runs a travelling show falls in love with some wild poniesbut what will she do when she realises they long to be set free?

The Magnolia Sword

Published: November

Mulan has been drilled in martial arts to fight the duel of her life - but what if her sworn enemy is also her secret love? A heart-thumping retelling that brings a much-loved heroine to life.

Angel Mage

Published: October

From fantasy master Garth Nix comes a new world of angels, heroes, gunpowder and high magic.

Ask Hercules Quick

Published: October

A hilarious and entertaining story about a boy who does a series of odd jobs for his eccentric neighbours, from the bestselling creators of The Terrible Plop.

Mr Chicken All Over Australia

Published: October

Australia is full of big things, and Mr Chicken wants to see them all. A triumph from the Australian Children's Laureate.

Bold Tales for Brave-hearted Boys

Published: October

Kind is the new brave! In this companion to her bestselling Fairytales for Feisty Girls, renowned kid hero and feisty author Susannah McFarlane presents an illustrated collection of 'tilted' fairytales featuring kind boys with big hearts.

Hasina: Through My Eyes

Published: September

A gripping story of one child's experience of the refugee crisis in Myanmar.

The Adventures of Anders

Published: September

A bumper book of fun and adventure in full colour, introducing lovable Anders and his band of intrepid friends.

A Different Land

Published: September

A story of new beginnings in a new land, and a surprising, heartwarming companion to A Different Boy and A Different Dog.

Miss Kraken

Published: September

A bold and funny picture book featuring a highly unusual primary school teacher and her class of badly behaved students, from acclaimed author/illustrator Nicki Greenberg.

Move the Mountains: The Freedom Finders

Published: August

Choose your own destiny and follow the exciting twists and turns of a girl leaving war-torn Italy to find a new home in Australia's Snowy Mountains in the s.

The Surprising Power of a Good Dumpling

Published: August

This compelling young adult novel about growing up in a migrant Asian family with a mother who is suffering from a mental illnesswas short-listed for the Prime Minister's Literary Awards.

Argh! There's a Skeleton Inside You!

Published: August

A funny picture book about a fascinating concept in science, by the highly successful duo who brought us Do Not Lick This Book (it's full of germs) - the award-winning author of Small Wonders, and the animator behind the wildly successful video 'Dumb Ways to Die'.

Ella and the Ocean

Published: August

A very Australian story of drought and renewal, of family, of imagination and of the power of hope.

Kulinmaya! Keep listening, everybody!

Published: August

A magnificent celebration of Kunmanara Williams' life and art and the land rights movement in the Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara (APY) lands of Central Australia.

Impostors

Published: August

Deception. Risk. Betrayal. Redemption. Master storyteller Scott Westerfeld is at the top of his game with another New York Times bestseller.

One Runaway Rabbit

Published: July

A stylish and satisfying picture book about a curious pet rabbit who accidentally escapes the safety of her backyard, and then must survive in the wilds of suburbia at night.

Impossible Music

Published: July

When the song is over, what remains? A novel about rediscovering yourself when everything you once took for granted is gone.

Rabbit's Hop: A Tiger & Friends book

Published: June

Featuring one of the key characters from the bestselling Tiger's Roar, Rabbit's Hop is Rabbit's 'origin story' - a celebration of recognising your strengths, being kind, encouraging others and enjoying friendships and sport. Another funny and inspiring picture book by AFL Premiership player, Alex Rance, and talented children's book illustrator, Shane McG

When Billy Was a Dog

Published: June

If you can't have a puppy, maybe the next best thing is to be a puppy.

Cheeky Dogs: To Lake Nash and Back

Published: June

In this exuberant illustrated memoir, action-packed images and poetic words trace Dion Beasley's fascination with cheeky dogs and his unconventional journey into the world of contemporary art.

Duck Duck Moose

Published: June

Who can resist a gloriously goofy moose? These ducks apparently. Or can they?

When the Ground Is Hard

Published: June

This CBCA short-listed book also won the LA Times Book Prize for Young Adult Literature and is a stunning and heartrending mystery set in a Swaziland boarding school about two girls of different castes who bond over a shared copy of Jane Eyre.

Aurora Rising: The Aurora Cycle 1

Published: May

From the New York Times and internationally bestselling authors of the Illuminae Files comes a new science fiction epic.

My Friend Fred

Published: May

This delightful CBCA award-winning picture book is about a friendship between an exuberant but loveable dachshund and his more retiring, tidy housemate.

Shauna's Great Expectations

Published: May

A fresh and compelling novel about an Aboriginal scholarship student and her surprising final year of school.

Touch the Moon

Published: May

An atmospheric and lyrical story about the moon landing from a uniquely Australian perspective to mark the year anniversary of the moon walk by Phil Cummings, the bestselling author of Anzac Biscuits, illustrated by the award-winning illustrator of One Small Island.

Amundsen's Way

Published: May

What would you do to be the first? The gripping tale of the great Norwegian explorer's courage, determination and ruthlessness in the race to the South Pole.

The Coat

Published: May

This paperback edition of the CBCA Picture book of the year winner tells the story of how a neglected coat and a down-at-heel man experience the joy and magic of creativity.

Storm Whale

Published: May

The highly acclaimed and beautifully illustrated book about three sisters who find a stranded whale on the beach.

A Cat Called Trim

Published: April

A delightful and heartwarming picture book about Matthew Flinders's cat, Trim, from best-selling creators Corinne Fenton and Craig Smith.

The Honeyman and the Hunter

Published: April

Rudra is an Indian-Australian boy at a crossroads, poised to step into the world of adulthood and to discover his cultural heritage and how that might truly define him. A wonderful exploration of dual heritage, cultural identity, family and the power of storytelling.

Our Little Inventor

Published: April

A gorgeous and inspiring picture book about a young girl, Nell, who invents a machine to fix the pollution that is choking the city.

Me and My Sister

Published: April

A celebration of the highs and lows of having a much loved but differently abled brother or sister.

Four Dead Queens

Published: March

A thrilling debut YA fantasy novel for fans of Red Queen and Three Dark Crowns.

Yahoo Creek

Published: March

Luminous images accompanied by newspaper extracts dating back to the early s and words by Ngiyampaa Elder Peter Williams explore the ongoing mystery of yahoo encounters.

Ivanhoe Swift Left Home at Six

Published: March

A lyrical exploration of those bittersweet moments when children first begin to explore the world for themselves.

52 Mondays

Published: March

A new historical novel from Anna Ciddor, in the same beautiful, classic storytelling tradition as The Family With Two Front Doors.

Baz & Benz

Published: March

From the creator of I JUST ATE MY FRIEND, this is a gorgeous and hilarious exploration of enduring friendship.

One Minute's Silence

Published: March

A moving and powerful story about the meaning of Remembrance Day, drawing on the ANZAC and Turkish battle at Gallipoli

Wrestle!

Published: February

A funny book about growing up in a family with two mums inspired by Gus Skattebol-James' story in the award-winning documentary, Gayby Baby.

The Dog Runner

Published: February

From the author of the multi-award-winning and bestselling How to Bee comes an intense and thrilling new adventure.

The House on the Mountain

Published: February

The powerful story of a family who lose their home in a bushfire and their journey of recovery.

Growing Up Muslim in Australia

Published: February

In this refreshing and fascinating collection, twelve Muslim-Australians - some well known, some not - reveal their candid, funny and touching stories of growing up with a dual identity.

The Eleventh Trade

Published: November

Refugee Boy for a new generation - a debut novel for 9+ about a young refugee from Afghanistan and his search to find his grandfather's precious musical instrument.

Lenny's Book of Everything

Published: October

A multi-award-winning book about finding good in the bad that will break your heart while raising your spirits in the way that only a classic novel can.

The Slightly Alarming Tale of the Whispering Wars

Published: October

This Queensland Literary Award-winning, CBCA short-listed book is an enchanting and whimsical spell-filled fantasy novel from Jaclyn Moriarty, the highly-acclaimed author of The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone.

Noni the Pony Rescues a Joey

Published: October

Come on another adventure with Noni the Pony in this totally delightful rhyming story by the much-loved Alison Lester. You may have met Noni already in Noni the Pony and Noni the Pony Goes to the Beach.

Lenny's Book of Everything

Published: October

A multi-award-winning book about finding good in the bad that will break your heart while raising your spirits in the way that only a classic novel can.

Tales from the Inner City

Published: September

A stunning companion to Tales from Outer Suburbia, this collection of illustrated short stories is sure to delight Shaun Tan fans of all ages.

Here Comes Stinkbug!

Published: September

The hilarious story about a smelly bug whose unique talent saves the day.

What the Woods Keep

Published: September

Katya de Becerra's stunning debut combines mystery, science fiction, and dark fantasy in a twisty story that will keep you mesmerized right up to the final page.

Lemonade Jones: Lemonade Jones 1

Published: August

Lemonade Jones likes to ask lots of questions and does not like rules - warm, funny stories for the beginning reader about a girl who likes to ask 'why?'

Morris the Mole

Published: August

Introducing Morris the mole! He's furry, he's funny, he's enthusiastic about all his activities, and he really, REALLY loves to dig. And his single-minded dedication to the task causes all kinds of mischief - and mayhem.

Catching Teller Crow

Published: August

A totally addictive ghost story, crime story and thriller, told half in prose and half in verse, from two of the most exciting Aboriginal voices in Australia.

Fairytales for Feisty Girls

Published: August

Renowned girl hero and feisty author Susannah McFarlane presents an illustrated collection of 'tilted' fairytales featuring girls with smarts.

After the Lights Go Out

Published: July

What happens when the lights go off after what might truly be an end-of-the-world event? How do you stay alive? Who do you trust? How much do you have to sacrifice?

Sonam and the Silence

Published: July

A haunting fable-like story by the well-known musician and author, Eddie Ayres, about the power of music and a young girl in Kabul set during the occupation of the Taliban

Yours Troolie, Alice Toolie

Published: July

Meet Alice Toolie - seriously famous youtootuber, and lead jellyfish in the school jazz ballet - and absolutely not a good friend of Jimmy Cook in this stand-alone humorous story from the CBC award-winning writers of the Captain Jimmy Cook Discovers series.

Swallow's Dance

Published: June

Leira's family flee to the island of Crete just before a huge volcanic eruption destroys their island and sends a tsunami to where they thought they had found safety. Another thrilling adventure by acclaimed author Wendy Orr.

Chalk Boy

Published: June

A soulful and heartwarming story about what happens when a pavement artist's drawing comes to life.

A Song Only I Can Hear

Published: June

Rob has a huge crush on the new girl at school. But Rob is painfully shy and suffers severe panic attacks. How is her heart to be won? Another wonderful and heart-warming comedy drama from the award-winning author of My Life as an Alphabet.

Tiger's Roar

Published: June

An inspiring and hilarious picture book about a Tiger who wants to be his best. A celebration of self-belief, perseverance and teamwork by AFL Premiership player, Alex Rance, and talented children's book illustrator, Shane McG.

Monsters

Published: May

Tildy can see monsters that no one else can see and she sleeps with one eye open, until a new friend at school helps her overcome her fear - a delightful new picture book by the popular picture-book creators of Tashi.

Changing Gear

Published: May

The vivid story of a teenage boy and the road trip that clears his head and his heart.

George Parker Goes Global

Published: May

Super-clever George Parker unexpectedly teams up with super-rich Chase Landon-Bond on an international adventure to rescue Chase's sister. A flat-out funny, mad-cap, strange and joyful mission filled with hijinks and hilarity.

Lifel1k3: Lifel1k3 1 (Lifelike: Lifelike 1)

Published: May

From the co-author of the New York Times bestselling Illuminae Files comes the first book in a new series that's part Romeo and Juliet, part Terminator, and all adrenaline.

The Learning Curves of Vanessa Partridge

Published: April

At the end of the school year, fifteen-year-old high-achieving 'good girl' Vanessa Partridge re-invents herself and seeks out new life experiences as she asserts her independence. A wonderful and funny coming-of-age story set at the beach over the summer holidays.

Shine Mountain

Published: April

An epic adventure from the author of Song for a Scarlet Runner about a girl who finds a magical musical instrument, a boy from a travelling medicine show, and their perilous journey to a mysterious land.

Munmun

Published: April

A pointed, amusing and highly-original story set in an alternate reality wherein every person's physical size is directly proportional to their wealth, by the best-selling author of Me and Earl and the Dying Girl.

Brindabella

Published: March

From an extraordinary novelist and an award-winning illustrator comes this lyrical and unforgettable story about a boy and the untameable wildness of a hand-reared joey.

Sam and Ilsa's Last Hurrah

Published: March

A hilarious and heartwarming romp, from The New York Times Bestselling authors of Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist and The Twelve Days of Dash & Lily.

Break Your Chains: The Freedom Finders

Published: March

Choose your own destiny and step into the shoes of an Irish girl making her way from London to Australia in in this exciting interactive series.

Touch the Sun: The Freedom Finders

Published: March

Choose your own destiny and step into the shoes of a Somalian boy escaping war-torn Mogadishu for Australia in in this exciting interactive series.

Digger

Published: February

The poignant story of a toy kangaroo that goes to war with a young man who doesn't come back.

White Night

Published: February

Bo Mitchell has little on his mind except school, footy and friends. Rory Wild has grown up on a nearby commune and is attending a 'normal' high school for the first time. Bo is determined to find out everything about her, even her secrets

Sandcastle

Published: February

A story for anyone who likes to spend a day at the beach, and for everyone who has ever pondered the big questions about our place in the universe.

Parvana: A Graphic Novel

Published: February

A stunning graphic novel edition of the internationally bestselling novel and adapted from the Academy Award nominated film 'The Breadwinner'.

The Endsister

Published: January

Unforgettable characters, chaotic family life and an intriguing ghost story combine in this funny, absorbing tale of a family who inherit a mansion on the other side of the world.

The Mediterranean

Published: January

Precarious boats navigate the waters of the sea, from south to north. And more often than not, it is not only hope that drowns. A devastating indictment of our society's treatment of refugees by the creator of The Island.

Rain Fall

Published: January

A tense, engaging read that will have you racing through the pages.

The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone

Published: October

This CBCA Notable Book is an enchanting and whimsical spell-filled fantasy novel from Jaclyn Moriarty, the award-winning author of Feeling Sorry for Celia and A Corner of White, and suitable for readers who loved A Most Magical Girl.

Swan Lake

Published: October

A magnificent visual retelling of the classic ballet story from a much-loved, award-winning illustrator.

The Red Ribbon

Published: October

Rose, Ella, Marta and Carla. In another life we might all have been friends together. This was Birchwood. For readers of The Diary of Anne Frank and The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.

Stack Attack: D-Bot Squad 5

Published: September

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Deep Dive: D-Bot Squad 6

Published: September

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Meerkat Choir

Published: September

The meerkat choirmaster will only allow meerkats in his choir. But singing is fun and all the other animals want to join in too. A wonderfully funny picture book about the folly of excluding others from your group.

Pea Pod Lullaby

Published: August

A glorious, heartfelt story about finding a safe place to call home, from award-winning book creators Glenda Millard and Stephen Michael King.

The Cursed First Term of Zelda Stitch. Bad Teacher. Worse Witch.

Published: August

Imagine if you read your teacher's diary and discovered she was a witch! With courage, imagination and a certain amount of recklessness, Zelda Stitch begins her first year of teaching primary school - as an incompetent (incognito) witch.

The Children of Willesden Lane

Published: August

A true story of courage and survival during World War II, and a celebration of the power of music to lift the human spirit.

The Amber Amulet

Published: July

You're in safe hands - The Masked Avenger and Richie the Power Beagle are here to protect you! A brilliant jewel of a book from the acclaimed, bestselling author of Jasper Jones.

Gap Year in Ghost Town

Published: July

Anton Marin and his father are on high alert after a spike in ghost manifestations. Anton wants to help the ghosts. Rani Cross wants to slice and dice them. And they both need to work together to keep the city safe. A smart, snappy, funny and scary ghost-hunting adventure.

Sparrow

Published: July

An exceptional and compelling novel from one of Australia's most acclaimed and much-loved authors.

Dino Hunter: D-Bot Squad 1

Published: June

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Sky High: D-Bot Squad 2

Published: June

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Double Trouble: D-Bot Squad 3

Published: June

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Big Stink: D-Bot Squad 4

Published: June

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

My Lovely Frankie

Published: June

A masterful, moving story about a teenage boy caught between faith and love, by one of Australia's finest YA writers.

Do not lick this book

Published: June

A brilliantly simple, funny, interactive picture book that introduces children to the strange, unseen world of microbes all around them by the award-winning author of Small Wonders and the animator of the insanely successful video 'Dumb Ways to Die' featuring scanning electron microscope images by Linnea Rundgren.

Living on Hope Street

Published: May

A young adult novel that shines a light on contemporary society. With unforgettable characters, this heartfelt novel explores cross-cultural friendships, difficult family relationships, racism and redemption.

My Life as a Hashtag

Published: May

From the highly acclaimed author of The Guy, the Girl, the Artist and His Ex comes this funny, heartfelt novel about rage, regret and the pitfalls of life in the digital age.

A Different Dog

Published: April

The gripping and surprising story of a boy, a dog and a daring rescue from the bestselling, much-loved author of the Don't Look Now series and The Unforgettable What's His Name.

Into the White

Published: April

The enthralling and harrowing true story of Robert Falcon Scott's ill-fated Terra Nova Expedition, with evocative photographs, and illustrations by Sarah Lippett.

How to Bee

Published: April

A story about family, loyalty, kindness and bravery, set against an all-too-possible future where climate change has forever changed the way we live.

Say Yes

Published: March

A story about how the events surrounding the historic Referendum played out in the everyday lives of two young girls.

The Blue Cat

Published: March

From the multi-award-winning author of The Red Shoe comes a haunting story about a boy who can't - or won't - speak about his past in war-torn Europe, and his friendship with a young Australian girl.

The Things We Promise

Published: February

Gemma's older brother Billy made her a promise that he would ensure she looked fabulous for her first school formal. But his circumstances change dramatically and Billy's promise becomes the least of the family's concerns.

The Grand, Genius Summer of Henry Hoobler

Published: January

The warm-hearted story of Henry Hoobler and the summer when a new friend, a silver bike and unexpected adventures turn him inside out like a pocket, into something new - laugh-out-loud funny and moving, from the author of my My Big Birkett.

Jasper Jones

Published: November

Full of unforgettable characters, a page-turning pace and outrageously good dialogue, this is a glorious novel - thoughtful, funny, heartbreaking and wise - about outsiders and secrets, and what it really means to be a hero.

When the Lyrebird Calls

Published: October

A time-slip novel in which Madeleine finds herself transported back to Australia, where she befriends a family of girls and is witness to a family secret and a family tragedy.

Small Things

Published: August

A stunning graphic novel from an extraordinarily talented illustrator. On the cusp of having everything slip from his grasp, a young boy has to find a way to rebuild his sense of self.

Freedom Swimmer

Published: August

This incredible tale about two boys' swim from mainland China to Hong Kong in search of freedom from poverty and oppression is inspired by a true story.

Promising Azra

Published: July

Azra's dreams of finishing high school in Sydney and going to university are threatened by her uncle's plans to marry her off to an older cousin she has never met - will she have to choose between her family and her happiness?

The Boundless Sublime

Published: July

Ruby Jane Galbraith is an ordinary girl seeking peace in the wake of family tragedy. Her search leads her into a community that seems guided by love. And it's only after she's drawn into its web that she learns its sinister secrets.

Dragonfly Song

Published: June

Abandoned by the priestess of the island at birth, Aissa is an outcast, surviving by her wits - until she joins the acrobatic bull dancers who are sent away to compete on the island of the Bull King. A gripping and powerful adventure by acclaimed author Wendy Orr.

Forgetting Foster

Published: June

The powerful story of a young boy whose father develops Alzheimer's disease, from the highly acclaimed author of A Small Madness.

Game Theory

Published: May

Jamie's sister has been kidnapped. And Jamie is convinced he can save her using the principles of game theory. But is strategy the best option when his little sister's life is at stake? A hugely compelling YA thriller.

Boomerang and Bat

Published: April

The first Australian cricket team to tour England was a group of Aboriginal stockmen. This is their story.

Milo

Published: March

A sweet and funny story about a city-dwelling dog, a day when everything goes wrong, a curious rescue and a surprising gift.

Dreaming the Enemy

Published: March

Two young Vietnam War veterans who fought on opposing sides return home, struggling to recover from their experience. A moving story of trauma, resilience and the challenging road to recovery.

Rockhopping

Published: March

The story of an eventful hike in Gariwerd (the Grampians), from the creator of the multi-award-winning Rivertime.

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

%(3)% found this document useful (3 votes)
views pages

Original Title

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (1)

Copyright

Available Formats

PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Did you find this document useful?

Contents

Dedication
Title Page
Author’s Note
Prologue Early Spring

1 Winter
2 Last Fall
3 Winter
4 Last Fall

5 Winter
6 Last Fall
7 Winter

8 Winter
9 Winter
10 Last Fall
11 Winter
12 Winter

13 Last Fall
14 Winter
15 Winter
16 Winter
17 Winter
18 Last Fall

19 Last Summer
20 Winter
21 Winter
22 Winter
23 Winter
24 Winter
25 Winter

26 Winter
27 Winter

28 Early Spring

29 Early Spring
30 Early Spring

31 Early Spring
32 Spring

The Houses of the Veil


Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Leigh Bardugo


Copyright
Author’s Note

The societies of Yale University and their prestigious alumni


are very real, but the characters and events described in these
pages are all the product of the author’s imagination, and as far
as I know, no one has ever used magic to fix an election.
Ay una moza y una moza que nonse espanta de la muerte
porque tiene padre y madre y sus doge hermanos cazados.
Caza de tre tabacades y un cortijo enladriado.
En medio de aquel cortijo havia un mansanale
que da mansanas de amores en vierno y en verano.
Adientro de aquel cortijo siete grutas hay fraguada.
En cada gruta y gruta ay echado cadenado….
El huerco que fue ligero se entró por el cadenado.
—La Moza y El Huerco
Th ere is a girl, a girl who does not fear death
Because she has her father and her mother and her twelve
hunter brothers,
A home of three floors and a barnyard farm house,
In the middle of the farm, an apple tree that gives love
apples in the winter and summer.
In the farm there are seven grottos,
Each and every grotto secured….
Death was light and slipped in through the lock.
—Death and the Girl,
Sephardic ballad
Prologue

Early Spring

By the time Alex managed to get the blood out of her good
wool coat, it was too warm to wear it. Spring had come on
grudgingly; pale blue mornings failed to deepen, turning
instead to moist, sullen afternoons, and stubborn frost lined the
road in high, dirty meringues. But sometime around mid-
March, the slices of lawn between the stone paths of Old
Campus began to sweat themselves free of snow, emerging
wet, black, and tufty with matted grass, and Alex found herself
notched into the window seat in the rooms hidden on the top
floor of York, reading Suggested Requirements for Lethe
Candidates.
She heard the clock on the mantel tick, the chiming of the
bell as customers came and went in the clothing store below.
The secret rooms above the shop were affectionately known as
the Hutch by Lethe members, and the commercial space
beneath them had been, at varying times, a shoe store, a
wilderness outfitter, and a twenty-four-hour Wawa mini-mart
with its own Taco Bell counter. The Lethe diaries from those
years were filled with complaints about the stink of refried
beans and grilled onions seeping up through the floor—until
, when someone had enchanted the Hutch and the back
staircase that led to the alley so that they smelled always of
fabric softener and clove.
Alex had discovered the pamphlet of Lethe House
guidelines sometime in the blurred weeks after the incident at
the mansion on Orange. She had checked her email only once
since then on the Hutch’s old desktop, seen the long string of
messages from Dean Sandow, and logged off. She’d let the
battery run down on her phone, ignored her classes, watched
the branches sprout leaves at the knuckles like a woman trying
on rings. She ate all the food in the pantries and freezer—the
fancy cheeses and packs of smoked salmon first, then the cans
of beans and syrup-soaked peaches in boxes marked
emergency rations. When they were gone, she ordered takeout
aggressively, charging it all to Darlington’s still-active
account. The trip down and up the stairs was tiring enough that
she had to rest before she tore into her lunch or dinner, and
sometimes she didn’t bother to eat at all, just fell asleep in the
window seat or on the floor beside the plastic bags and foil-
wrapped containers. No one came to check on her. There was
no one left.
The pamphlet was cheaply printed, bound with staples, a
black-and-white picture of Harkness Tower on the cover, We
Are the Shepherds printed beneath it. She doubted the Lethe
House founders had Johnny Cash in mind when they’d chosen
their motto, but every time she saw those words she thought of
Christmastime, of lying on the old mattress in Len’s squat in
Van Nuys, room spinning, a half-eaten can of cranberry sauce
on the floor beside her, and Johnny Cash singing, “We are the
shepherds, we walked ’cross the mountains. We left our flocks
when the new star appeared.” She thought of Len rolling over,
sliding his hand under her shirt, murmuring into her ear,
“Those are some shitty shepherds.”
The guidelines for Lethe House candidates were located
near the back of the pamphlet and had last been updated in

High academic achievement with an emphasis on history and
chemistry.
Facility with languages and a working knowledge of Latin and
Greek.
Good physical health and hygiene. Evidence of a regular
fitness regimen encouraged.
Exhibits signs of a steady character with a mind toward
discretion.
An interest in the arcane is discouraged, as this is a frequent
indicator of an “outsider” disposition.
Should demonstrate no squeamishness toward the realities of
the human body.
MORS VINCIT OMNIA.

Alex—whose knowledge of Latin was less than working—


looked it up: Death conquers all. But in the margin, someone
had scrawled irrumat over vincit, nearly obliterating the
original with blue ballpoint pen.
Beneath the Lethe requirements, an addendum read:
Standards for candidates have been relaxed in two
circumstances: Lowell Scott (B.A., English, ) and Sinclair
Bell Braverman (no degree, ), with mixed results.
Another note had been scratched into the margin here, this
one clearly in Darlington’s jagged, EKG-like scrawl: Alex
Stern. She thought of the blood soaking the carpet of the old
Anderson mansion black. She thought of the dean—the
startled white of his femur jutting from his thigh, the stink of
wild dogs filling the air.
Alex set aside the aluminum container of cold falafel from
Mamoun’s, wiped her hands on her Lethe House sweats. She
limped to the bathroom, popped open the bottle of zolpidem,
and tucked one beneath her tongue. She cupped her hand
beneath the faucet, watched the water pour over her fingers,
listened to the grim sucking sound from the mouth of the
drain. Standards for candidates have been relaxed in two
circumstances.
For the first time in weeks, she looked at the girl in the
water-speckled mirror, watched as that bruised girl lifted her
tank top, the cotton stained yellow with pus. The wound in
Alex’s side was a deep divot, crusted black. The bite had left a
visible curve that she knew would heal badly, if it healed at all.
Her map had been changed. Her coastline altered. Mors
irrumat omnia. Death fucks us all.
Alex touched her fingers gently to the hot red skin
surrounding the teeth marks. The wound was getting infected.
She felt some kind of concern, her mind nudging her toward
self-preservation, but the idea of picking up the phone, getting
a ride to the undergrad health center—the sequence of actions
each new action would incite—was overwhelming, and the
warm, dull throb of her body setting fire to itself had become
almost companionable. Maybe she’d get a fever, start
hallucinating.
She eyed the thrust of her ribs, the blue veins like downed
power lines beneath her fading bruises. Her lips were
feathered with chapped skin. She thought of her name inked
into the margins of the pamphlet—the third circumstance.
“Results were decidedly mixed,” she said, startled by the
husky rattle of her voice. She laughed and the drain seemed to
chuckle with her. Maybe she already had a fever.
In the fluorescent glare of the bathroom lights, she gripped
the edges of the bite in her side and dug her fingers into it,
pinching the flesh around her stitches until the pain dropped
over her like a mantle, the blackout coming on in a welcome
rush.
That was in the spring. But the trouble had begun on a night
in the full dark of winter, when Tara Hutchins died and Alex
still thought she might get away with everything.
Skull and Bones, oldest of the landed societies, first
of the eight Houses of the Veil, founded in The
Bonesmen can boast more presidents, publishers,
captains of industry, and cabinet members than any
other society (for a full list of its alumni, please see
Appendix C), and perhaps “boast” is the right word.
The Bonesmen are aware of their influence and
expect the deference of Lethe delegates. They would
do well to remember their own motto: Rich or poor,
all are equal in death. Conduct yourself with the
discretion and diplomacy warranted by your office
and association with Lethe, but remember always
that our duty is not to prop up the vanity of Yale’s
best and brightest but to stand between the living
and the dead.
—from The Life of Lethe: Procedures and
Protocols of the Ninth House
The Bonesmen fancy themselves titans among
pissants, and ain’t that a bite. But who am I to
quibble when the drinks are stiff and the girls are
pretty?
—Lethe Days Diary of George Petit
(Saybrook College ’56)
1

Winter

Alex hurried across the wide, alien plane of Beinecke Plaza,


boots thudding over flat squares of clean concrete. The giant
cube of the rare-books collection seemed to float above its
lower story. During the day its panels glowed amber, a
burnished golden hive, less a library than a temple. At night it
just looked like a tomb. This part of campus didn’t quite fit
with the rest of Yale—no gray stone or Gothic arches, no
rebellious little outcroppings of red-brick buildings, which
Darlington had explained were not actually Colonial but only
meant to look that way. He’d explained the reasons for the
way Beinecke had been built, the way it was supposed to
mirror and slot into this corner of the campus architecture, but
it still felt like a seventies sci-fi movie to her, like the students
should all be wearing unitards or too-short tunics, drinking
something called the Extract, eating food in pellets. Even the
big metal sculpture that she now knew was by Alexander
Calder reminded her of a giant lava lamp in negative.
“It’s Calder,” she murmured beneath her breath. That was
the way people here talked about art. Nothing was by anyone.
The sculpture is Calder. The painting is Rothko. The house is
Neutra.
And Alex was late. She had begun the night with good
intentions, determined to get ahead of her Modern British
Novel essay and leave with plenty of time to make it to the
prognostication. But she’d fallen asleep in one of the Sterling
Library reading rooms, a copy of Nostromo gripped loosely in
her hand, feet propped on a heating duct. At half past ten,
she’d woken with a start, drool trickling across her cheek. Her
startled “Shit!” had gone off like a shotgun blast in the quiet of
the library, and she’d buried her face in her scarf as she slung
her bag over her shoulder and made her escape.
Now she cut through Commons, beneath the rotunda where
the names of the war dead were carved deep into the marble,
and stone figures stood vigil—Peace, Devotion, Memory, and
finally Courage, who wore a helmet and shield and little else
and had always looked to Alex more like a stripper than a
mourner. She charged down the steps and across the
intersection of College and Grove.
The campus had a way of changing faces from hour to hour
and block to block so that Alex always felt as if she were
meeting it for the first time. Tonight it was a sleepwalker,
breathing deep and even. The people she passed on her way to
SSS seemed locked in a dream, soft-eyed, faces turned to one
another, steam rising off the cups of coffee in their gloved
hands. She had the eerie sense that they were dreaming her, a
girl in a dark coat who would disappear when they woke.
Sheffield-Sterling-Strathcona Hall was drowsing too, the
classrooms closed up tight, hallways cast in energy-saving
half-light. Alex took the stairs to the second floor and heard
noise echoing from one of the lecture halls. The Yale Social
screened movies there every Thursday night. Mercy had
tacked the schedule to the door of their dorm room, but Alex
hadn’t bothered to study it. Her Thursdays were full.
Tripp Helmuth slouched against the wall beside the doors to
the lecture hall. He acknowledged Alex with a heavy-lidded
nod. Even in the dim light, she could see his eyes were
bloodshot. No doubt he’d smoked before he showed up
tonight. Maybe that was why the elder Bonesmen had stuck
him on guard duty. Or maybe he’d volunteered.
“You’re late,” he said. “They started.”
Alex ignored him, glanced once over her shoulder to make
sure the hallway was clear. She didn’t owe Tripp Helmuth an
excuse, and it would look weak to offer one. She pressed her
thumb into a barely visible notch in the paneling. The wall was
supposed to swing open smoothly, but it always stuck. She
gave it a hard nudge with her shoulder and stumbled as it
jolted open.
“Easy, killer,” said Tripp.
Alex shut the door behind her and edged down the narrow
passage in the dark.
Unfortunately, Tripp was right. The prognostication had
already begun. Alex entered the old operating theater as
quietly as she could.
The room was a windowless chamber, sandwiched between
the lecture hall and a classroom that grad students used for
discussion sections. It was a forgotten remnant of the old
medical school, which had held its classes here in SSS before
it moved to its own buildings. The managers of the trust that
funded Skull and Bones had sealed up the room’s entrance and
disguised it with new paneling sometime around All
facts Alex had gleaned from Lethe: A Legacy when she
probably should have been reading Nostromo.
No one spared Alex a glance. All eyes were on the
Haruspex, his lean face hidden behind a surgical mask, pale
blue robes spattered with blood. His latex-gloved hands moved
methodically through the bowels of the—patient? Subject?
Sacrifice? Alex wasn’t sure which term applied to the man on
the table. Not “sacrifice.” He’s supposed to live. Ensuring that
was part of her job. She’d see him safely through this ordeal
and back to the hospital ward he’d been taken from. But what
about a year from now? she wondered. Five years from now?
Alex glanced at the man on the table: Michael Reyes. She’d
read his file two weeks ago, when he was selected for the
ritual. The flaps of his stomach were pinned back with steel
clips and his abdomen looked like it was blooming, a plump
pink orchid, plush and red at its center. Tell me that doesn’t
leave a mark. But she had her own future to worry about.
Reyes would manage.
Alex averted her eyes, tried to breathe through her nose as
her stomach roiled and coppery saliva flooded her mouth.
She’d seen plenty of bad injuries but always on the dead.
There was something much worse about a living wound, a
human body tethered to life by nothing but the steady metallic
beep of a monitor. She had candied ginger in her pocket for
nausea—one of Darlington’s tips—but she couldn’t quite bring
herself to take it out and unwrap it.
Instead, she focused her gaze on some middle distance as
the Haruspex called out a series of numbers and letters—stock
symbols and share prices for companies traded publicly on the
New York Stock Exchange. Later in the night he’d move on to
the NASDAQ, Euronext, and the Asian markets. Alex didn’t
bother trying to decipher them. The orders to buy, sell, or hold
were given in impenetrable Dutch, the language of commerce,
the first stock exchange, old New York, and the official
language of the Bonesmen. When Skull and Bones was
founded, too many students knew Greek and Latin. Their
dealings had required something more obscure.
“Dutch is harder to pronounce,” Darlington had told her.
“Besides, it gives the Bonesmen an excuse to visit
Amsterdam.” Of course, Darlington knew Latin, Greek, and
Dutch. He also spoke French, Mandarin, and passable
Portuguese. Alex had just started Spanish II. Between the
classes she’d taken in grade school and her grandmother’s
mishmash of Ladino sayings, she’d thought it would be an
easy grade. She hadn’t counted on things like the subjunctive.
But she could just about ask if Gloria might like to go to the
discotheque tomorrow night.
A burst of muffled gunfire rattled through the wall from the
screening next door. The Haruspex looked up from the slick
pink mess of Michael Reyes’s small intestine, his irritation
apparent.
Scarface, Alex realized as the music swelled and a chorus
of rowdy voices thundered in unison, “You wanna fuck with
me? Okay. You wanna play rough?” The audience chanting
along like it was Rocky Horror. She must have seen Scarface a
hundred times. It was one of Len’s favorites. He was
predictable that way, loved everything hard—as if he’d mailed
away for a How to Be Gangster kit. When they’d met Hellie
near the Venice boardwalk, her golden hair like a parted
curtain for the theater of her big blue eyes, Alex had thought
instantly of Michelle Pfeiffer in her satin shift. All she’d been
missing was the smooth sheaf of bangs. But Alex didn’t want
to think about Hellie tonight, not with the stink of blood in the
air. Len and Hellie were her old life. They didn’t belong at
Yale. Then again, neither did Alex.
Despite the memories, Alex was grateful for any noise that
would cover the wet sounds of the Haruspex pawing through
Michael Reyes’s gut. What did he see there? Darlington had
said the prognostications were no different than someone
reading the future in the cards of a tarot deck or a handful of
animal bones. But it sure looked different. And sounded more
specific. You’re missing someone. You will find happiness in
the new year. Those were the kinds of things fortune-tellers
said—vague, comforting.
Alex eyed the Bonesmen, robed and hooded, crowded
around the body on the table, the undergrad Scribe taking
down the predictions that would be passed on to hedge-fund
managers and private investors all over the world to keep the
Bonesmen and their alumni financially secure. Former
presidents, diplomats, at least one director of the CIA—all of
them Bonesmen. Alex thought of Tony Montana, soaking in
his hot tub, speechifying: You know what capitalism is? Alex
glanced at Michael Reyes’s prone body. Tony, you have no
idea.
She caught a flicker of movement from the benches that
overlooked the operating arena. The theater had two local
Grays who always sat in the same places, just a few rows
apart: a female mental patient who’d had her ovaries and
uterus removed in a hysterectomy in , for which she
would have been paid six dollars if she’d survived the
procedure; and a male, a medical student. He’d frozen to death
in an opium den thousands of miles away, sometime around
, but kept returning here to sit in his old seat and look
down on whatever passed for life below. Prognostications only
happened in the theater four times a year, at the start of each
fiscal quarter, but that seemed to be enough to suit him.
Darlington liked to say that dealing with ghosts was like
riding the subway: Do not make eye contact. Do not smile. Do
not engage. Otherwise, you never know what might follow you
home. Easier said than done when the only other thing to look
at in the room was a man playing with another man’s innards
like they were mah-jongg tiles.
She remembered Darlington’s shock when he’d realized she
could not only see ghosts without the help of any potion or
spell but see them in color. He’d been weirdly furious. She’d
enjoyed that.
“What kinds of color?” he’d asked, sliding his feet off the
coffee table, his heavy black boots thunking on the slatted
floor of the parlor at Il Bastone.
“Just color. Like an old Polaroid. Why? What do you see?”
“They look gray,” he’d snapped. “That’s why they’re called
Grays.”
She’d shrugged, knowing her nonchalance would make
Darlington even angrier. “It isn’t a big deal.”
“Not to you,” he’d muttered, and stomped away. He’d spent
the rest of the day in the training room, working up a cranky
sweat.
She’d felt smug at the time, glad not everything came so
easily to him. But now, moving in a circle around the
perimeter of the theater, checking the little chalk markings
made at every compass point, she just felt jittery and
unprepared. That was the way she’d felt since she’d taken her
first step on campus. No, before that. From the time Dean
Sandow had sat down beside her hospital bed, tapped the
handcuffs on her wrist with his nicotine-stained fingers, and
said, “We are offering you an opportunity.” But that was the
old Alex. The Alex of Hellie and Len. Yale Alex had never
worn handcuffs, never gotten into a fight, never fucked a
stranger in a bathroom to make up her boyfriend’s vig. Yale
Alex struggled but didn’t complain. She was a good girl trying
to keep up.
And failing. She should have been here early to observe the
making of the signs and ensure the circle was secure. Grays as
old as the ones hovering on the tiered benches above didn’t
tend to make trouble even when drawn by blood, but
prognostications were big magic and her job was to verify that
the Bonesmen followed proper procedures, stayed cautious.
She was playacting, though. She’d spent the previous night
cramming, trying to memorize the correct signs and
proportions of chalk, charcoal, and bone. She’d made flash
cards, for fuck’s sake, and forced herself to shuffle through
them in between bouts of Joseph Conrad.
Alex thought the markings looked okay, but she knew her
signs of protection about as well as her modern British novels.
When she’d attended the fall-quarter prognostication with
Darlington, had she really paid attention? No. She’d been too
busy sucking on ginger candy, reeling from the strangeness of
it all, and praying she wouldn’t humiliate herself by puking.
She’d thought she had plenty of time to learn with Darlington
looking over her shoulder. But they’d both been wrong about
that.
“Voorhoofd!” the Haruspex called, and one of the
Bonesmen darted forward. Melinda? Miranda? Alex couldn’t
remember the redhead’s name, only that she was in an all-
female a cappella group called Whim ’n Rhythm. The girl
patted the Haruspex’s forehead with a white cloth and melted
back into the group.
Alex tried not to look at the man on the table, but her eyes
darted to his face anyway. Michael Reyes, age forty-eight,
diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic. Would Reyes remember
any of it when he woke? When he tried to tell someone would
they just call him crazy? Alex knew exactly what that was
like. It could be me on that table.
“The Bonesmen like them as nuts as possible,” Darlington
had told her. “They think it makes for better predictions.”
When she’d asked him why, he’d just said, “The crazier the
victima, the closer to God.”
“Is that true?”
“It is only through mystery and madness that the soul is
revealed,” he’d quoted. Then he’d shrugged. “Their bank
balances say yes.”
“And we’re okay with this?” Alex had asked Darlington.
“With people getting cut open so Chauncey can redecorate his
summer home?”
“Never met a Chauncey,” he’d said. “Still hoping.” Then
he’d paused, standing in the armory, his face grave. “Nothing
is going to stop this. Too many powerful people rely on what
the societies can do. Before Lethe existed, no one was keeping
watch. So you can make futile bleating noises in protest and
lose your scholarship, or you can stay here, do your job, and
do the most good you can.”
Even then, she’d wondered if that was only part of the
story, if Darlington’s desire to know everything bound him to
Lethe just as surely as any sense of duty. But she’d stayed
quiet then and she intended to stay quiet now.
Michael Reyes had been found in one of the public beds at
Yale New Haven. To the outside world he looked like any
other patient: a vagrant, the type who passed through psych
wards and emergency rooms and jails, on his meds, then off.
He had a brother in New Jersey who was listed as his next of
kin and who had signed off on what was supposed to be a
routine medical procedure for the treatment of a scarred
bowel.
Reyes was cared for solely by a nurse named Jean Gatdula,
who’d worked three night shifts in a row. She didn’t blink or
cause a fuss when, through what appeared to be a scheduling
error, she was slated for two more evenings in the ward. That
week her colleagues may or may not have noticed that she
always came to work with a huge handbag. In it was stowed a
little cooler that she used to carry Michael Reyes’s meals: a
dove’s heart for clarity, geranium root, and a dish of bitter
herbs. Gatdula had no idea what the food did or what fate
awaited Michael Reyes any more than she knew what became
of any of the “special” patients she tended to. She didn’t even
know whom she worked for, only that once every month she
received a much-needed check to offset the gambling debts her
husband racked up at the Foxwoods blackjack tables.
Alex wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if she really
could smell the ground parsley speckling Reyes’s insides, but
her own stomach gave another warning flutter. She was
desperate for fresh air, sweating beneath her layers. The
operating theater was kept ice cold, fed by vents separate from
the rest of the building, but the huge portable halogens used to
light the proceedings still radiated heat.
A low moan sounded. Alex’s gaze shot to Michael Reyes, a
terrible image flashing through her mind: Reyes waking to
find himself strapped to a table, surrounded by hooded figures,
his insides on the outside. But his eyes were closed, his chest
rising and falling in steady rhythm. The moan continued,
louder now. Maybe someone else was feeling sick? But none
of the Bonesmen looked distressed. Their faces glowed like
studious moons in the dim theater, eyes trained on the
proceedings.
Still the moan climbed, a low wind building, churning
through the room and bouncing off its dark-wood walls. No
direct eye contact, Alex warned herself. Just look to see if the
Grays—She choked back a startled grunt.
The Grays were no longer in their seats.
They leaned over the railing that surrounded the operating
theater, fingers gripping the wood, necks craned, their bodies
stretching toward the very edge of the chalk circle like animals
straining to drink from the lip of a watering hole.
Don’t look. It was Darlington’s voice, his warning. Don’t
look too closely. It was too easy for a Gray to form a bond, to
attach itself to you. And it was more dangerous because she
already knew these Grays’ histories. They had been around so
long that generations of Lethe delegates had documented their
pasts. But their names had been redacted from all documents.
“If you don’t know a name,” Darlington had explained,
“you can’t think it, and then you won’t be tempted to say it.”
A name was a kind of intimacy.
Don’t look. But Darlington wasn’t here.
The female Gray was naked, her small breasts puckered
from the cold as they must have been in death. She lifted a
hand to the open wound of her belly, touched the flesh there
fondly, like a woman coyly indicating that she was expecting.
They hadn’t sewn her up. The boy—and he was a boy, skinny
and tender-featured—wore a sloppy bottle-green jacket and
stained trousers. Grays always appeared as they had in the
moment of death. But there was something obscene about
them side by side, one naked, the other clothed.
Every muscle in the Grays’ bodies strained, their eyes wide
and staring, their lips yawning open. The black holes of their
mouths were caverns, and from them that bleak keening rose,
not really a moan at all but something flat and inhuman. Alex
thought of the wasps’ nest she’d found in the garage beneath
her mother’s Studio City apartment one summer, the mindless
buzz of insects in a dark place.
The Haruspex kept reciting in Dutch. Another Bonesman
held a glass of water to the Scribe’s lips as he continued his
transcriptions. The smell of blood and herbs and shit hung
dense in the air.
The Grays arced forward inch by inch, trembling, lips
distended, their mouths too wide now, as if their jaws had
unhinged. The whole room seemed to vibrate.
But only Alex could see them.
That was why Lethe had brought her here, why Dean
Sandow had grudgingly made his golden offer to a girl in
handcuffs. Still, Alex looked around, hoping for someone else
to understand, for anyone to offer their help.
She took a step back, heart rabbiting in her chest. Grays
were docile, vague, especially Grays this old. At least Alex
thought they were. Was this one of the lessons Darlington
hadn’t gotten to yet?
She racked her brain for the few incantations Darlington
had taught her last semester, spells of protection. She could
use death words in a pinch. Would they work on Grays in this
state? She should have put salt in her pockets, caramels to
distract them, anything. Basic stuff, Darlington said in her
head. Easy to master.
The wood beneath the Grays’ fingers began to bend and
creak. Now the redheaded a cappella girl looked up,
wondering where the creaking had come from.
The wood was going to splinter. The signs must have been
made incorrectly; the circle of protection would not hold. Alex
looked right and left at the useless Bonesmen in their
ridiculous robes. If Darlington were here, he would stay and
fight, make sure the Grays were contained and Reyes was kept
safe.
The halogens dimmed, surged.
“Fuck you, Darlington,” Alex muttered beneath her breath,
already turning on her heel to run.
Boom.
The room shook. Alex stumbled. The Haruspex and the rest
of the Bonesmen looked at her, scowling.
Boom.
The sound of something knocking from the next world.
Something big. Something that should not be let through.
“Is our Dante drunk?” muttered the Haruspex.
Boom.
Alex opened her mouth to scream, to tell them to run before
whatever was holding that thing back gave way.
The moaning dropped away suddenly, completely, as if
stoppered in a bottle. The monitor beeped. The lights hummed.
The Grays were back in their seats, ignoring each other,
ignoring her.
Beneath her coat, Alex’s blouse clung wetly to her, soaked
through with sweat. She could smell her own sour fear thick
on her skin. The halogens still shone hot and white. The
theater pulsed heat like an organ suffused with blood. The
Bonesemen were staring. Next door, the credits rolled.
Alex could see the spot where the Grays had gripped the
railing, white slivers of wood splayed like corn silk.
“Sorry,” Alex said. She bent at the knees and vomited onto
the stone floor.
When they finally stitched up Michael Reyes, it was nearly
3 a.m. The Haruspex and most of the other Bonesmen had left
hours before to shower off the ritual and prepare for a party
that would last well past dawn.
The Haruspex might head directly back to New York in the
creamy leather seat of a black town car, or he might stay for
the festivities and take his pick of willing undergrad girls or
boys or both. She’d been told “attending to” the Haruspex was
considered an honor, and Alex supposed if you were high
enough and drunk enough, it might feel like that was the case,
but it sure sounded like being pimped out to the man who paid
the bills.
The redhead—Miranda, it turned out, “like in The
Tempest”—had helped Alex clean up the vomit. She’d been
genuinely nice about it and Alex had almost felt bad for not
remembering her name.
Reyes had been transported out of the building on a gurney,
cloaked in obfuscation veils that made him look like a bunch
of AV equipment piled beneath protective plastic sheeting. It
was the most risky part of the whole night’s endeavor as far as
the safety of the society went. Skull and Bones didn’t really
excel at anything other than prognostication, and of course the
members of Manuscript weren’t interested in sharing their
glamours with another society. The magic binding Reyes’s
veils wobbled with every bump, the gurney coming into and
out of focus, the blips and bleeps from the medical equipment
and the ventilator still audible. If anyone stopped to take a
close look at what was being wheeled down the hallway, the
Bonesmen would have some real trouble—though Alex
doubted it would be anything they couldn’t buy their way out
of.
She would check in on Reyes once he was back on the ward
and then again in a week to make sure he was healing without
complications. There had been casualties following
prognostications before, though only one since Lethe had been
founded in to monitor the societies. A group of
Bonesmen had accidentally killed a vagrant during a hastily
planned emergency reading after the stock-market crash of
Prognostications had been banned for the next four
years, and Bones had been threatened with the loss of its
massive red stone tomb on High Street. “That’s why we exist,”
Darlington had said as Alex turned the pages listing the names
of each victima and prognostication date in the Lethe records.
“We are the shepherds, Stern.”
But he’d cringed when Alex pointed to an inscription in one
of the margins of Lethe: A Legacy. “NMDH ?”
“No more dead hobos,” he’d said on a sigh.
So much for the noble mission of Lethe House. Still Alex
couldn’t feel too superior tonight, not when she’d been
seconds from abandoning Michael Reyes to save her own ass.
Alex endured a long string of jokes about her spewed
dinner of grilled chicken and Twizzlers, and stayed at the
theater to make sure the remaining Bonesmen followed what
she hoped was proper procedure for sanitizing the space.
She promised herself she’d return later to sprinkle the
theater with bone dust. Reminders of death were the best way
to keep Grays at bay. It was why cemeteries were some of the
least haunted places in the world. She thought of the ghosts’
open mouths, that horrible drone of insects. Something had
been trying to slam its way into the chalk circle. At least that
was how it had seemed. Grays—ghosts—were harmless.
Mostly. It took a lot for them to take any kind of form in the
mortal world. And to pass through the final Veil? To become
physical, capable of touch? Capable of damage? They could.
Alex knew they could. But it was close to impossible.
Even so, there had been hundreds of prognostications in
this theater and she’d never heard of any Grays crossing over
into physical form or interfering. Why had their behavior
changed tonight?
If it had.
The greatest gift Lethe had given Alex was not the full ride
to Yale, the new start that had scrubbed her past clean like a
chemical burn. It was the knowledge, the certainty, that the
things she saw were real and always had been. But she’d lived
too long wondering if she was crazy to stop now. Darlington
would have believed her. He always had. Except Darlington
was gone.
Not for good, she told herself. In a week the new moon
would rise and they would bring him home.
Alex touched her fingers to the cracked railing, already
thinking about how to phrase her description of the
prognostication for the Lethe House records. Dean Sandow
reviewed all of them, and she wasn’t anxious to draw his
attention to anything out of the ordinary. Besides, if you set
aside a helpless man having his guts rearranged, nothing bad
had actually happened.
When Alex emerged from the passage into the hallway,
Tripp Helmuth startled from his slouch. “They almost done in
there?”
Alex nodded and took a deep breath of comparatively fresh
air, eager to get outside.
“Pretty gross, huh?” Tripp asked with a smirk. “If you want
I can slip you some of the tips when they get transcribed. Take
the edge off those student loans.”
“What the fuck would you know about student loans?” The
words were out before she could stop them. Darlington would
not approve. Alex was supposed to remain civil, distant,
diplomatic. And anyway, she was a hypocrite. Lethe had made
sure she would graduate without a cloud of debt hanging over
her—if she actually made it through four years of exams and
papers and nights like these.
Tripp held his hands up in surrender, laughing uneasily.
“Hey, just tryin’ to get by.” Tripp was on the sailing team, a
third-generation Bonesman, a gentleman and a scholar, a
purebred golden retriever—dopey, glossy, and expensive. He
was rumpled and rosy as a healthy infant, his hair sandy, his
skin still tan from whichever island he’d spent winter break
on. He had the ease of someone who had always been and
would always be just fine, a boy of a thousand second chances.
“We good?” he asked eagerly.
“We’re good,” she said, though she was not good at all. She
could still feel the reverberation of that buzzing moan filling
up her lungs, rattling the inside of her skull. “Just stuffy in
there.”
“Right?” Tripp said, ready to be pals. “Maybe getting stuck
out here all night’s not so bad.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“What happened to your arm?” Alex could see a bit of
bandage peeking out from Tripp’s windbreaker.
He shoved the sleeve up, revealing a patch of greasy
cellophane taped over the inside of his forearm. “A bunch of
us got tattoos today.”
Alex looked closer: a strutting bulldog bursting through a
big blue Y. The dudebro equivalent of best friends forevah!
“Nice,” she lied.
“You got any ink?” His sleepy eyes roved over her, trying
to peel back the winter layers, no different than the losers who
had hung around Ground Zero, fingers brushing her clavicle,
her biceps, tracing the shapes there. So what does this one
mean?
“Nope. Not my thing.” Alex wrapped her scarf around her
neck. “I’ll check in on Reyes on the ward tomorrow.”
“Huh? Oh, right. Good. Where’s Darlington anyway? He
already sticking you with the shit jobs?”
Tripp tolerated Alex, tried to be friendly with her because
he wanted his belly rubbed by everyone he encountered, but he
genuinely liked Darlington.
“Spain,” she said, because that was what she’d been
instructed to say.
“Nice. Tell him buenos días.”
If Alex could have told Darlington anything, it would have
been, Come back. She would have said it in English and
Spanish. She would have used the imperative.
“Adiós,” she said to Tripp. “Enjoy the party.”
Once she was clear of the building, Alex yanked off her
gloves and unwrapped two sticky ginger candies, shoving
them into her mouth. She was tired of thinking about
Darlington, but the smell of the ginger, the heat it created at
the back of her throat, brought him even more brightly alive.
She saw his long body sprawled in front of the great stone
fireplace at Black Elm. He’d taken his boots off, left his socks
to dry on the hearth. He was on his back, eyes closed, head
resting in the cradle of his arms, toes wiggling in time to the
music floating around the room, something classical Alex
didn’t know, dense with French horns that left emphatic
crescents of sound in the air.
Alex had been on the floor beside him, arms clasped around
her knees, back pressed against the base of an old sofa, trying
to seem relaxed and to stop staring at his feet. They just looked
so naked. He’d cuffed his black jeans up, keeping the damp off
his skin, and those slender white feet, hair dusting the toes,
had made her feel a little obscene, like some sepia-toned
pervert driven mad by a glimpse of ankle.
Fuck you, Darlington. She yanked her gloves back on.
For a moment she stood paralyzed. She should get back to
Lethe House and write up her report for Dean Sandow to
review, but what she really wanted was to flop down on the
narrow bottom bunk of the room she shared with Mercy and
cram in all the sleep she could before class. At this hour, she
wouldn’t have to make any excuses to curious roommates. But
if she slept at Lethe, Mercy and Lauren would be clamoring to
know where and with whom she’d spent the night.
Darlington had suggested making up a boyfriend to justify
her long absences and late nights.
“If I do that, at some point I’ll have to produce a boy-
shaped human to gaze at me adoringly,” Alex had replied in
frustration. “How have you gotten away with this for the last
three years?”
Darlington had just shrugged. “My roommates figured I
was a player.” If Alex’s eyes had rolled back in her head any
farther, she would have been facing the opposite direction.
“All right, all right. I told them I was in a band with some
UConn guys and that we played out a lot.”
“Do you even play an instrument?”
“Of course.”
Cello, upright bass, guitar, piano, and something called an
oud.
Hopefully, Mercy would be fast asleep when Alex got back
to the room and she could slip inside to retrieve her basket of
shower things and head down the hall without notice. It would
be tricky. Anytime you tampered with the Veil between this
world and the next, it left a stink that was something like the
electrical crackle of ozone after a storm coupled with the rot of
a pumpkin left too long on a windowsill. The first time she’d
made the mistake of returning to the suite without showering,
she’d actually had to lie about slipping in a pile of garbage to
explain it. Mercy and Lauren had laughed about it for weeks.
Alex thought of the grimy shower waiting at her dorm …
and then of sinking into the vast old claw-foot tub in Il
Bastone’s spotless bathroom, the four-poster bed so high she
had to hoist herself onto it. Supposedly Lethe had safe houses
and hidey-holes all over the Yale campus, but the two Alex
had been introduced to were the Hutch and Il Bastone. The
Hutch was closer to Alex’s dorm and most of her classes, but it
was just a shabby, comfortable set of rooms above a clothing
store, always stocked with bags of chips and Darlington’s
protein bars, a place to stop in and take a quick nap on the
badly sprung couch. Il Bastone was something special: a three-
story mansion nearly a mile from the heart of campus that
served as Lethe’s main headquarters. Oculus would be waiting
there tonight, the lamps lit, with a tray of tea, brandy, and
sandwiches. It was tradition, even if Alex didn’t show up to
enjoy them. But the price of all that luxury would be dealing
with Oculus, and she just couldn’t handle Dawes’s clenched-
jaw silences tonight. Better to return to the dorms with the
stink of the night’s work on her.
Alex crossed the street and cut back through the rotunda. It
was hard not to keep looking behind her, thinking of the Grays
standing at the edge of the circle with their mouths stretched
too wide, black pits humming that low insect sound. What
would have happened if that railing had broken, if the chalk
circle hadn’t held? What had provoked them? Would she have
had the strength or the knowledge to hold them off? Pasa
punto, pasa mundo.
Alex pulled her coat tighter, tucking her face into her scarf,
her breath humid against the wool, hurrying back past
Beinecke Library.
“If you get locked in there during a fire, all of the oxygen
gets sucked out,” Lauren had claimed. “To protect the books.”
Alex knew that was bullshit. Darlington had told her so.
He’d known the truth of the building, all of its faces, that it
had been built to the Platonic ideal (the building was a
temple), employing the same ratios used by some typesetters
for their pages (the building was a book), that its marble had
been quarried in Vermont (the building was a monument). The
entrance had been created so that only one person was
permitted to enter at a time, passing through the rotating door
like a supplicant. She remembered Darlington pulling on the
white gloves worn to handle rare manuscripts, his long fingers
resting reverently on the page. It was the same way Len
handled cash.
There was a room in Beinecke, hidden on … she couldn’t
remember which floor. And even if she could have she
wouldn’t have gone. She didn’t have the balls to descend into
the patio, touch her fingers to the window in the secret pattern,
enter in the dark. This place had been dear to Darlington.
There was no place more magical. There was no place on
campus she felt more like a fraud.
Alex reached for her phone to check the time, hoping it
wasn’t much past three. If she could get washed up and into
bed by four, she’d still be able to get three and a half solid
hours before she had to be up and across campus again for
Spanish. This was the math she ran every night, every
moment. How much time to try to get the work done? How
much time to rest? She could never quite make the numbers
work. She was just scraping by, stretching the budget, always
coming up a little short, and the panic clung to her, dogging
her steps.
Alex looked at the glowing screen and swore. It was
flooded with messages. She’d put the phone on silent for the
prognostication and forgotten to switch it back on.
The texts were all from the same person: Oculus, Pamela
Dawes, the grad student who maintained the Lethe residences
and served as their research assistant. Pammie, though only
Darlington called her that.
Call in.
Call in.
Call in.
The texts were all timed exactly fifteen minutes apart.
Either Dawes was following some kind of protocol or she was
even more uptight than Alex had thought.
Alex considered just ignoring the messages. But it was a
Thursday night, the night the societies met, and that meant that
some little shit had gotten up to something bad. For all she
knew, the shapeshifting idiots at Wolf’s Head had turned
themselves into a herd of buffalo and trampled a bunch of
students coming out of Branford.
She stepped behind one of the columns supporting the
Beinecke cube to shelter from the wind and dialed.
Dawes picked up on the first ring. “Oculus speaking.”
“Dante replies,” Alex said, feeling like a jackass. She was
Dante. Darlington was Virgil. That was the way Lethe was
supposed to work until Alex made it to her senior year and
took on the title of Virgil to mentor an incoming freshman.
She’d nodded and matched Darlington’s small smile when
he’d told her their code names—he’d referred to them as
“offices”—pretending she got the joke. Later, she’d looked
them up and discovered that Virgil had been Dante’s guide as
he descended into hell. More Lethe House humor wasted on
her.
“There’s a body at Payne Whitney,” said Dawes.
“Centurion is on site.”
“A body,” Alex repeated, wondering if fatigue had
damaged her ability to understand basic human speech.
“Yes.”
“Like a dead body?”
“Ye-es.” Dawes was clearly trying to sound calm, but her
breath caught, turning the single syllable into a musical
hiccup.
Alex pressed her back against the column, the cold of the
stone seeping through her coat, and felt a stab of angry
adrenaline spike through her.
Are you messing with me? That was what she wanted to
ask. That was what this felt like. Being fucked with. Being the
weird kid who talked to herself, who was so desperate for
friends she agreed when Sarah McKinney pleaded, “Can you
meet me at Tres Muchachos after school? I want to see if you
can talk to my grandma. We used to go there a lot and I miss
her so much.” The kid who stood outside the shittiest Mexican
restaurant in the shittiest food court in the Valley by herself
until she had to call her mom to ask her to pick her up because
no one was coming. Of course no one was coming.
This is real, she reminded herself. And Pamela Dawes was
a lot of things but she wasn’t a Sarah McKinney-style asshole.
Which meant someone was dead.
And she was supposed to do something about it?
“Uh, was it an accident?”
“Possible homicide.” Dawes sounded like she’d been
waiting for just this question.
“Okay,” Alex said, because she had no idea what else to
say.
“Okay,” Dawes replied awkwardly. She’d delivered her big
line and now she was ready to get offstage.
Alex hung up and stood in the bleak, windswept silence of
the empty plaza. She’d forgotten at least half of what
Darlington had tried to teach her before he’d vanished, but he
definitely hadn’t covered murder.
She didn’t know why. If you were going to hell together,
murder seemed like a good place to start.
2

Last Fall

Daniel Arlington prided himself on being prepared for


anything, but if he’d had to choose a way to describe Alex
Stern, it would have been “an unwelcome surprise.” He could
think of a lot of other terms for her, but none of them were
polite, and Darlington always endeavored to be polite. If he’d
been brought up by his parents—his dilettante father, his glib
but brilliant mother—he might have had different priorities,
but he’d been raised by his grandfather, Daniel Tabor
Arlington III, who believed that most problems could be
solved with cask-strength scotch, plenty of ice, and
impeccable manners.
His grandfather had never met Galaxy Stern.
Darlington sought out Alex’s first-floor Vanderbilt dorm
room on a sweating, miserable day in the first week of
September. He could have waited for her to report to the house
on Orange, but when he was a freshman, his own mentor, the
inimitable Michelle Alameddine, who had served as his Virgil,
had welcomed him to Yale and the mysteries of Lethe House
by coming to meet him at the Old Campus freshman dorms.
Darlington was determined to do things right, even if
everything about the Stern situation had started out wrong.
He hadn’t chosen Galaxy Stern as his Dante. In fact, she
had, by sheer virtue of her existence, robbed him of something
he’d been looking forward to for the entirety of his three-year
tenure with Lethe: the moment when he would gift someone
new with the job he loved, when he’d crack the ordinary world
open for some worthy but barely suspecting soul. Only a few
months before, he’d unloaded the boxes full of incoming
freshman applications and stacked them in the great room at
Black Elm, giddy with excitement, determined to read or at
least skim through all eighteen hundred-plus files before he
made his recommendations to the Lethe House alumni. He
would be fair, open-minded, and thorough, and in the end he
would choose twenty candidates for the role of Dante. Then
Lethe would vet their backgrounds, check for health risks,
signs of mental illness, and financial vulnerabilities, and a
final decision would be made.
Darlington had created a plan for how many applications
he’d have to tackle each day that would still free his mornings
for work on the estate and his afternoons for his job at the
Peabody Museum. He’d been ahead of schedule that day in
July—on application number Mackenzie Hoffer,
verbal, math; nine APs her junior year; blog on the
Bayeux Tapestry maintained in both English and French.
She’d seemed promising until he’d gotten to her personal
essay, in which she’d compared herself to Emily Dickinson.
Darlington had just tossed her folder onto the no pile when
Dean Sandow called to tell him their search was over. They’d
found their candidate. The alumni were unanimous.
Darlington had wanted to protest. Hell, he’d wanted to
break something. Instead, he’d straightened the stack of
folders before him and said, “Who is it? I have all of the files
right here.”
“You don’t have her file. She never applied. She didn’t
even finish high school.” Before Darlington could sputter his
indignation, Sandow added, “Daniel, she can see Grays.”
Darlington had paused, his hand still atop Mackenzie
Hoffer (two summers with Habitat for Humanity). It wasn’t
just the sound of his given name, something Sandow rarely
used. She can see Grays. The only way for one of the living to
see the dead was by ingesting the Orozcerio, an elixir of
infinite complexity that required perfect skill and attention to
detail to create. He’d attempted it himself when he was
seventeen, before he’d ever heard of Lethe, when he’d only
hoped there might be more to this world than he’d been led to
believe. His efforts had landed him in the ER and he’d
hemorrhaged blood from his ears and eyes for two days.
“She managed to brew an elixir?” he said, both thrilled and
—he could admit it—a little jealous.
Silence followed, long enough for Darlington to switch off
the light on his grandfather’s desk and walk out to the back
porch of Black Elm. From here he could see the gentle slope
of houses leading down Edgewood to campus and, far beyond,
the Long Island Sound. All of the land down to Central
Avenue had once been a part of Black Elm but had been sold
off in bits and pieces as the Arlington fortune dwindled. The
house, its rose gardens, and the ruined mess of the maze at the
edge of the wood were all that remained—and only he
remained to tend and prune and coddle it back to life. Dusk
was falling now, a long, slow summer twilight, thick with
mosquitoes and the glint of fireflies. He could see the question
mark of Cosmo’s white tail as the cat wended his way through
the high grass, stalking some small creature.
“No elixir,” said Sandow. “She can just see them.”
“Ah,” said Darlington, watching a thrush peck half-
heartedly at the broken base of what had once been the obelisk
fountain. There was nothing else to say. Though Lethe had
been created to monitor the activities of Yale’s secret societies,
its secondary mission was to unravel the mysteries of what lay
beyond the Veil. For years they had documented stories of
people who could actually see phantoms, some confirmed,
some little more than rumor. So if the board had found a girl
who could do these things and they could make her beholden
to them … Well, that was that. He should be glad to meet her.
He wanted to get drunk.
“I’m not any happier about this than you are,” said Sandow.
“But you know the position we’re in. This is an important year
for Lethe. We need everyone happy.” Lethe was responsible
for keeping watch over the Houses of the Veil, but it also
relied on them for funding. This was a re-up year and the
societies had gone so long without an incident, there were
rumblings that perhaps they shouldn’t dip into their coffers to
continue supporting Lethe at all. “I’ll send you her files. She’s
not … She’s not the Dante we might have hoped for, but try to
keep an open mind.”
“Of course,” said Darlington, because that was what a
gentleman did. “Of course I will.”
He’d tried to mean it. Even after he read her file, even after
he’d watched the interview between her and Sandow recorded
at a hospital in Van Nuys, California, heard the husky, broken
woodwind sound of her voice, he’d tried. She’d been found
naked and comatose at a crime scene, next to a girl who hadn’t
been lucky enough to survive the fentanyl they’d both taken.
The details of it were all more sordid and sad than he could
have fathomed, and he’d tried to feel sorry for her. His Dante,
the girl he would gift with the keys to a secret world, was a
criminal, a drug user, a dropout who cared about none of the
things he did. But he’d tried.
And still nothing had prepared him for the shock of her
presence in that shabby Vanderbilt common room. The room
was small but high-ceilinged, with three tall windows that
looked out onto the horseshoe-shaped courtyard and two
narrow doors leading to the bedrooms. The space eddied with
the easy chaos of a freshman year move-in: boxes on the floor,
no proper furniture to be seen but a wobbly lamp and a
battered recliner pushed up against the long-since-functional
fireplace. A muscular blonde in running shorts—Lauren, he
guessed (likely pre-med, solid test scores, field-hockey captain
at her Philadelphia prep school)—was setting up a faux-
vintage turntable on the ledge of the window seat, a plastic
crate of records balanced beside it. The recliner was probably
hers too, carted along in a moving truck from Bucks County to
New Haven. Anna Breen (Huntsville, Texas; STEM
scholarship; choir leader) sat on the floor trying to assemble
what looked like a bookshelf. This was a girl who would never
quite fit. She’d end up in a singing group or maybe get heavily
into her church. She definitely wouldn’t be partying with her
other roommates.
Then the other two girls shuffled out of one of the
bedrooms, awkwardly hefting a banged-up university-issued
desk between them.
“Do you have to put that out here?” asked Anna glumly.
“We need more space,” said a girl in a flowered sundress
Darlington knew was Mercy Zhao (piano; math,
verbal; prizewinning essays on Rabelais and a bizarre but
compelling comparison of a passage in The Sound and the
Fury to a bit about a pear tree in The Canterbury Tales that
had garnered the notice of both the Yale and Princeton English
departments).
And then Galaxy Stern (no high school diploma, no GED,
no achievements to speak of other than surviving her own
misery) emerged from the dark nook of the bedroom, dressed
in a long-sleeved shirt and black jeans totally inappropriate to
the heat and balancing one end of the desk in her skinny arms.
The low quality of Sandow’s video had caught the slick,
straight sheaves of her black hair but not the severe precision
of her center part, the hollow quality of her eyes but not the
deep inkblot of their color. She looked malnourished, her
clavicles sharp as exclamation points beneath the fabric of her
shirt. She was too sleek, almost damp, less Undine rising from
the waters than a dagger-toothed rusalka.
Or maybe she just needed a snack and a long nap.
All right, Stern. Let’s begin.
Darlington rapped on the door, stepped into the room,
smiled big, bright, welcoming, as they set the desk down in the
common room corner. “Alex! Your mom told me I should
check in on you. It’s me, Darlington.”
For a brief moment she looked utterly lost, even panicked,
then she matched his smile. “Hey! I didn’t recognize you.”
Good. She was adaptable.
“Introductions, please,” said Lauren, her gaze interested,
assessing. She’d pulled a copy of Queen’s A Day at the Races
from the crate.
He extended his hand. “I’m Darlington, Alex’s cousin.”
“Are you in JE too?” Lauren asked.
Darlington remembered that unearned sense of loyalty. At
the start of the year, all the incoming freshmen were sorted
into residential colleges where they would eat most of their
meals and where they would eventually sleep when they left
Old Campus behind as sophomores. They would buy scarves
striped in their residential college colors, learn the college’s
chants and mottos. Alex belonged to Lethe, just as Darlington
had, but she’d been assigned to Jonathan Edwards, named for
the fire and brimstone preacher.
“I’m in Davenport,” Darlington said. “But I don’t live on
campus.” He’d liked living in Davenport—the dining hall, the
big grassy courtyard. But he didn’t like Black Elm sitting
empty, and the money he’d saved on his room and board had
been enough to fix the water damage he’d found in the
ballroom last spring. Besides, Cosmo liked the company.
“Do you have a car?” asked Lauren.
Mercy laughed. “Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.”
Lauren shrugged. “How else are we going to get to Ikea?
We need a couch.” She would be the leader of this crew, the
one who’d suggest which parties to go to, who’d have them
host a room for Liquor Treat at Halloween.
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile. “I can’t drive
you. At least not today.” Or any day. “And I need to steal Alex
away.”
Alex wiped her palms on her jeans. “We’re trying to get
settled,” she said hesitantly, hopefully even. He could see
circles of sweat blooming beneath her arms.
“You made a promise,” he said with a wink. “And you
know how my mom gets about family stuff.”
He saw a flash of rebellion in her oil-slick eyes, but all she
said was, “Okay.”
“Can you give us cash for the couch?” Lauren asked Alex,
roughly shoving the Queen record back into the crate. He
hoped it wasn’t the original vinyl.
“You bet,” said Alex. She turned to Darlington. “Aunt
Eileen said she’d spring for a new couch, right?”
Darlington’s mother’s name was Harper, and he doubted
she even knew the word Ikea. “Did she really?”
Alex crossed her arms. “Yup.”
Darlington took his wallet from his back pocket and peeled
off three hundred dollars in cash. He handed it to Alex, who
passed it to Lauren. “Make sure you write her a thank-you
note,” he said.
“Oh, I will,” said Alex. “I know she’s a real stickler for that
kind of thing.”
When they were striding across the lawns of Old Campus,
the red-brick towers and crenellations of Vanderbilt behind
them, Darlington said, “You owe me three hundred dollars.
I’m not buying you a couch.”
“You can afford it,” Alex said coolly. “I’m guessing you
come from the good side of the family, cuz.”
“You needed cover for why you’re going to be off seeing
me so much.”
“Bullshit. You were testing me.”
“It’s my job to test you.”
“I thought it was your job to teach me. That’s not the same
thing.”
At least she wasn’t stupid. “Fair enough. But visits to dear
Aunt Eileen can cover a few of your late nights.”
“How late are we talking about?”
He could hear the worry in her voice. Was it caution or
laziness? “How much did Dean Sandow tell you?”
“Not much.” She pulled the fabric of her shirt away from
her stomach, trying to cool herself.
“Why are you dressed like that?” He hadn’t meant to ask
but she looked uncomfortable—her black Henley buttoned to
the neck, sweat spreading in dark rings from her armpits—and
completely out of place. A girl who managed lies so smoothly
should have a better sense of protective cover.
Alex just slid him a sideways look. “I’m very modest.”
Darlington had no reply to that, so he pointed to one of the two
identical red-brick buildings bracketing the path. “This is the
oldest building on campus.”
“It doesn’t look old.”
“It’s been well maintained. It almost didn’t make it, though.
People thought it ruined the look of Old Campus, so they
wanted to knock it down.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“The books credit a preservation campaign, but the truth is
Lethe discovered the building was lode-bearing.”
“Huh?”
“Spiritually lode-bearing. It was part of an old binding
ritual to keep the campus safe.” They turned right, down a path
that would lead them toward the ersatz-Medieval portcullis of
Phelps Gate. “That’s what the whole college used to look like.
Little buildings of red bricks. Colonial. A lot like Harvard.
Then after the Civil War, the walls went up. Now most of the
campus is built that way, a series of fortresses, walled and
gated, a castle keep.”
Old Campus was a perfect example, a massive quadrangle
of towering stone dorms surrounding a huge sun-dappled
courtyard welcome to all—until night fell and the gates
banged shut.
“Why?” Alex asked.
“To keep the rabble out. The soldiers came back to New
Haven from the war wild, most of them unmarried, a lot of
them messed up from the fighting. There was a wave of
immigration too. Irish, Italians, freed slaves, everyone looking
for manufacturing jobs. Yale didn’t want any of it.”
Alex laughed.
“Is something funny?” he asked.
She glanced back at her dorm. “Mercy’s Chinese. A
Nigerian girl lives next door. Then there’s my mongrel ass. We
all got in anyway. Eventually.”
“A long slow siege.” The word mongrel felt like dangerous
bait. He took in her black hair, her black eyes, the olive cast to
her skin. She might have been Greek. Mexican. White.
“Jewish mother, no mention of a father, but I assume you had
one?”
“Never knew him.”
There was more here but he wasn’t going to push. “We all
have spaces we keep blank.” They’d reached Phelps Gate, the
big echoing archway that led onto College Street and away
from the relative safety of Old Campus. He didn’t want to get
sidetracked. They had too much literal and figurative ground
to cover. “This is the New Haven Green,” he said, as they
strode down one of the stone paths. “When the colony was
founded, this was where they built their meetinghouse. The
town was meant to be a new Eden, founded between two
rivers like the Tigris and the Euphrates.”
Alex frowned. “Why so many churches?”
There were three on the green, two of them near-twins in
their Federal design, the third a jewel of Gothic Revival.
“This town has a church for nearly every block. Or it used
to. Some of them are closing now. People just don’t go.”
“Do you?” she asked.
“Do you?”
“Nope.”
“Yes, I go,” he said. “It’s a family thing.” He saw the
flicker of judgment in her eyes, but he didn’t need to explain.
Church on Sunday, work on Monday. That was the Arlington
way. When Darlington had turned thirteen and protested that
he’d be happy to risk God’s wrath if he could just sleep in, his
grandfather seized him by the ear and dragged him out of bed
despite his eighty years. “I don’t care what you believe,” he’d
said. “The working man believes in God and expects us to do
the same, so you will get your ass dressed and in a pew or I
will tan it raw.” Darlington had gone. And after his
grandfather had died, he’d kept going.
“The green is the site of the city’s first church and its first
graveyard. It’s a source of tremendous power.”
“Yeah … no shit.”
He realized her shoulders had gone loose and easy. Her
stride had changed. She looked a little less like someone
gearing up to take a swing.
Darlington tried not to sound too eager. “What do you see?”
She didn’t answer. “I know about what you can do. It isn’t a
secret.”
Alex’s gaze was still distant, almost disinterested. “It’s
empty here, that’s all. I never really see much around
cemeteries and stuff.”
And stuff. Darlington looked around, but all he saw was
what everyone else would: students, people who worked at the
courthouse or the string of shops along Chapel, enjoying the
sun on their lunch hour.
He knew the paths that seemed to bisect the green
arbitrarily had been drawn by a group of Freemasons to try to
appease and contain the dead when the cemetery had been
moved a few blocks away. He knew that their compass lines—
or a pentagram, depending on whom you asked—could be
seen from above. He knew the spot where the Lincoln Oak had
toppled after Hurricane Sandy, revealing a human skeleton
tangled in its roots, one of the many bodies never moved to
Grove Street Cemetery. He saw the city differently because he
knew it, and his knowledge was not casual. It was adoration.
But no amount of love could make him see Grays. Not without
Orozcerio, another hit from the Golden Bowl. He shuddered.
Every time was a risk, another chance that his body would say
enough, that one of his kidneys would simply fail.
“It makes sense you don’t see them here,” he said. “Certain
things will draw them to graveyards and cemeteries, but as a
rule, they steer clear.”
Now he had her attention. Real interest sparked in her eyes,
the first indication of something beyond watchful reserve.
“Why?”
“Grays love life and anything that reminds them of being
alive. Salt, sugar, sweat. Fighting and fucking, tears and blood
and human drama.”
“I thought salt kept them out.”
Darlington raised a brow. “Did you see that on television?”
“Would it make you happier if I say I learned it from an
ancient book?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Too bad.”
“Salt is a purifier,” he said, as they crossed Temple Street,
“so it’s good for banishing demons—though to my great
sorrow I’ve never personally had the honor. But when it comes
to Grays, making a salt circle is the equivalent of leaving a salt
lick for deer.”
“So what keeps them out?”
Her need crackled through the words. So this was where
her interest lay.
“Bone dust. Graveyard dirt. The leavings of crematory ash.
Memento mori.” He glanced at her. “Any Latin?” She shook
her head. Of course not. “They hate reminders of death. If you
want to Gray-proof your room, hang a Holbein print.” He’d
meant it as a joke, but he could see she was chewing on what
he’d said, committing the artist’s name to memory. Darlington
felt an acute twinge of guilt that he did not enjoy. He’d been so
busy envying this girl’s ability, he hadn’t considered what it
might be like if you could never close the door on the dead. “I
can ward your room,” he said by way of penance. “Your whole
dorm if you like.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes,” he said. “And I can show you how to do it too.”
“Tell me the rest,” said Alex. Away from the dim cavern of
the dorms, sweat had formed in a slick sheen over her nose
and forehead, gathering in the divot above her upper lip. She
was going to soak that shirt, and he could see she was self-
conscious about it by the way she held her arms rigidly to her
sides.
“Did you read The Life of Lethe?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“I skimmed it.”
“Read it,” he said. “I’ve made you a list of other material
that will help get you up to speed. Mostly histories of New
Haven and our own compiled history of the societies.”
Alex gave a sharp shake of her head. “I mean tell me what
I’m in for here … with you.”
That was a hard question to answer. Nothing. Everything.
Lethe was meant to be a gift, but could it be to her? There was
too much to tell.
They left the green and he saw tension snap back into her
shoulders, though there was still nothing his eyes could see to
warrant it. They passed the row of banks clustered along Elm,
looming over Kebabian’s, the little red rug store that had
somehow thrived in New Haven for over one hundred years,
then turned left up Orange. They were only a few blocks from
campus proper now, but it felt like miles. The bustle of student
life vanished, as if stepping into the city was like falling off a
cliff. The streets were a mess of new and old: gently weathered
townhouses, barren parking lots, a carefully restored concert
hall, the gargantuan high rise of the Housing Authority.
“Why here?” Alex asked when Darlington didn’t answer
her previous question. “What is it about this place that draws
them?”
The short answer was Who knows? But Darlington doubted
that would cast him or Lethe in the most credible light.
“In the early eighteen hundreds, magic was moving from
the old world to the new, leaving Europe along with its
practitioners. They needed someplace to store their knowledge
and preserve its practices. No one’s certain why New Haven
worked. They tried in other places too,” Darlington said with
some pride. “Cambridge. Princeton. New Haven was where
the magic caught and held and took root. Some people think
it’s because the Veil is thinner here, easier to pierce. You can
see why Lethe is happy to have you on board.” At least, some
of Lethe. “You may be able to offer us answers. There are
Grays that have been here far longer than the university.”
“And these practitioners thought it would be smart to teach
all this magic to a bunch of college kids?”
“Contact with the uncanny takes a toll. The older you get,
the harder it is to endure that contact. So each year, the
societies replenish the supply with a new tap, a new
delegation. Magic is quite literally a dying art, and New Haven
is one of the few places in the world where it can still be
brought to life.”
She said nothing. Was she scared? Good. Maybe she would
actually read the books he assigned instead of skimming them.
“There are over a hundred societies at Yale at this point, but
we don’t concern ourselves with most of them. They get
together for dinners, tell their life stories, do a little
community service. It’s the Ancient Eight that matter. The
landed societies. The Houses of the Veil. They’re the ones that
have held their tombs continuously.”
“Tombs?”
“I’m betting you’ve already seen some of them.
Clubhouses, though they look more like mausoleums.”
“Why don’t we care about the other societies?” she asked.
“We care about power, and power is linked to place. Each
of the Houses of the Veil grew up around a branch of the
arcane and is devoted to studying it, and each built their tomb
over a nexus of power. Except for Berzelius, and no one cares
about Berzelius.” They’d founded their society in direct
response to the growing magical presence in New Haven,
claiming the other Houses were charlatans and superstitious
dilettantes, dedicating themselves to investments in new
technologies and the philosophy that the only true magic was
science. They’d managed to survive the stock market crash of
without the help of prognostication, and limped along
until the crash of when they’d been all but wiped out. As
it happened, the only true magic was magic.
“A nexus,” Alex repeated. “They’re all over campus? The
… nexes—”
“Nexuses. Think of magic like a river. The nexuses are
where the power eddies, and it’s what allows the societies’
rituals to function successfully. We’ve mapped twelve in the
city. Tombs have been built on eight of them. The others are
on sites where structures already exist, like the train station,
and where it would be impossible to build. A few societies
have lost their tombs over time. They can study all they want.
Once that connection is broken, they don’t accomplish much.”
“And you’re telling me this has all been going on for more
than a hundred years and no one has figured it out?”
“The Ancient Eight have yielded some of the most
powerful men and women in the world. People who literally
steer governments, the wealth of nations, who forge the shape
of culture. They’ve run everything from the United Nations to
Congress to The New York Times to the World Bank. They’ve
fixed nearly every World Series, six Super Bowls, the
Academy Awards, and at least one presidential election.
Hundreds of websites are dedicated to unraveling their
connections to the Freemasons, the Illuminati, the Bilderberg
Group—the list goes on.”
“Maybe if they met at Denny’s instead of giant
mausoleums, they wouldn’t have to worry about that.”
They had arrived at Il Bastone, Lethe House, three stories
of red brick and stained glass, built by John Anderson in
for an outrageous sum and then abandoned barely a year later.
He’d claimed he was being chased out by the city’s high tax
rates. Lethe’s records told a different story, one that involved
his father and the ghost of a dead cigar girl. Il Bastone didn’t
sprawl like Black Elm. It was a city house, bracketed closely
on both sides by other properties, tall but contained in its
grandeur.
“They’re not worried,” said Darlington. “They welcome all
of the conspiracy theories and tinfoil-hat-wearing loons.”
“Because they like feeling interesting?”
“Because what they’re really doing is so much worse.”
Darlington pushed open the black wrought-iron gate and saw
the porch of the old house straighten slightly, as if in
anticipation. “After you.”
As soon as the gate shut, darkness enveloped them. From
somewhere beneath the house, a howl sounded, high and
hungry. Galaxy Stern had asked what she was in for. It was
time to show her.
3

Winter

Who dies at the gym? After her call with Dawes, Alex
backtracked across the plaza. She had been to Payne Whitney
Gymnasium exactly once: when she’d let Mercy drag her to a
salsa class, where a white girl snugly packed into taut black
pants had told her to pivot, pivot, pivot.
Darlington had encouraged her to use the free weights and
to “build up her cardio.”
“For what?” Alex had asked.
“To better yourself.”
Only Darlington could say something like that with a
straight face. But, then again, he ran six miles every morning
and swept into rooms on a cloud of physical perfection. Every
time he showed up at the Vanderbilt suite, it was as if someone
had run an electric current through the floor. Lauren, Mercy,
even silent, frowning Anna, would sit up a little straighter,
looking bright-eyed and slightly frantic as a bunch of well-
groomed squirrels. Alex would have liked to be immune to it
—the pretty face, his lean frame, the easy way he occupied
space as if he owned it. He had a way of distractedly brushing
the brown hair back from his forehead that made you want to
do it for him. But Darlington’s lure was offset by the healthy
fear he instilled in her. At the end of the day, he was a rich boy
in a nice coat who could capsize her without even meaning to.
That first day at the mansion on Orange, he’d set jackals on
her. Jackals. He’d given a sharp whistle and they’d leapt from
the bushes near the house, snarling and cackling. Alex had
screamed. Her legs had tangled as she’d turned to run and
she’d fallen to the grass, nearly impaling herself on the low
iron fence. But early on in her time with Len she’d learned to
always watch the person in charge. That changed from room to
room, house to house, deal to deal, but it always paid to know
who could make the big decisions. That was Darlington. And
Darlington didn’t look scared. He looked interested.
The jackals were stalking toward her, slavering, teeth bared
and backs bent.
They looked like foxes. They looked like the coyotes that
ran the Hollywood Hills. They looked like hounds.
We are the shepherds.
“Darlington,” she said, forcing calm into her voice. “Call
off your fucking dogs.”
He’d spoken a series of words she didn’t understand and
the creatures had slunk back into the bushes, all of their
aggression vanishing, bouncing on their paws and nipping at
one another’s heels. He’d had the gall to smile at her as he
offered her an elegant hand. The Van Nuys girl inside her
longed to slap it away, jab her fingers into his windpipe, and
make him sorry. But she forced herself to take his hand, let
him help her up. It had been the start of a very long day.
When Alex had finally returned home to the dorms, Lauren
waited all of sixty seconds before pouncing with, “So does
your cousin have a girlfriend?”
They were sitting around the new coffee table, trying to get
its legs not to wobble as they pushed in little plastic screws.
Anna had vanished off somewhere and Lauren had ordered
pizza. The window was open, letting in the bare beginnings of
a breeze as twilight fell, and Alex felt like she was watching
herself from the courtyard—a happy girl, a normal girl,
surrounded by people with futures who assumed she had a
future too. She had wanted to hold on to that feeling, to keep it
for herself.
“You know … I have no idea.” She’d been so overwhelmed
she hadn’t had a chance to be curious.
“He smells like money,” said Mercy.
Lauren threw an Allen wrench at her. “Tacky.”
“Don’t start dating my cousin,” Alex said, because that was
the kind of thing these girls said. “I don’t need that mess.”
On this night, with the wind clawing to get into her winter
coat, Alex thought of that girl, illuminated in gold, sitting in
that sacred circle. It was the last moment of peace she could
remember. Only five months had passed but it felt much
longer.
She cut left, shadowed by the white columns that ran along
the south side of the vast dining hall that everyone still called
Commons, though it was supposed to be the Schwarzman
Center now. Schwarzman was a Bonesman, class of , and
had managed a notoriously successful private equity fund, the
Blackstone Group. The center was the result of a one-hundred-
fifty-million-dollar donation to the university, a gift and a kind
of apology for stray magic that had escaped an unsanctioned
ritual and caused bizarre behavior and seizures in half the
members of the Yale Precision Marching Band during a
football game with Dartmouth.
Alex thought of the Grays in the operating theater, mouths
gaping. It had been a routine prognostication. Nothing should
have gone wrong, but something most definitely had, even if
she was the only one who knew it. And now she was supposed
to contend with a murder? She knew Darlington and Dawes
had kept an eye on homicides in the New Haven area, just to
make sure there was no stink of the uncanny, no chance one of
the societies had gotten overeager and stepped beyond the
bounds of their rituals.
Ahead of her, Grays formed a thin gruel that shifted over
the roof of the law school, spreading and curling like milk
poured into coffee, drawn by the grind of fear and ambition.
Book and Snake’s towering white tomb loomed on her right.
Of all the society buildings, it was the most like a crypt.
“Greek pediment, Ionic columns. Pedestrian stuff,” Darlington
had said. He saved his admiration for the Moorish screens and
scrollwork of Scroll and Key, the severe mid-century lines of
Manuscript. But it was the fence surrounding Book and Snake
that always drew Alex’s eye: black iron crawling with snakes.
“The symbol of Mercury, god of commerce,” Darlington had
said.
God of thieves. Even Alex knew that one. Mercury was the
messenger.
Ahead of her lay Grove Street Cemetery. Alex glimpsed a
cluster of Grays gathered by a grave near the entrance.
Someone had probably left cookies for a lost relative or
something sugary as a fan offering for one of the artists or
architects buried there. But the rest of the cemetery, like all
cemeteries at night, was empty of ghosts. During the day,
Grays were called to the salt tears and fragrant flowers of
mourners, gifts from the living left for the dead. She’d learned
they loved anything that reminded them of life. The spilled
beer and raucous laughter of frat parties; the libraries at exam
time, dense with anxiety, coffee, and open cans of sweet,
syrupy Coke; dorm rooms staticky with gossip, panting
couples, mini-fridges stuffed with food going to rot, students
tossing in their sleep, dreams full of sex and terror. That’s
where I should be, Alex thought, in the dorm, showering in the
grimy bathroom, not walking by a graveyard in the dead of
night.
The cemetery gates had been built to look like an Egyptian
temple, their fat columns carved with lotus blossoms, the
plinth emblazoned with giant letters: THE DEAD SHALL BE
RAISED. Darlington called the period at the end of that sentence
the most eloquent piece of punctuation in the English
language. Another thing Alex had been forced to look up,
another bit of code to decipher. It turned out the quote was
from a Bible verse:
Behold, I show you a mystery: We shall not all sleep;
but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the
twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet
shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible,
and we shall be changed.
“Incorruptible.” When she saw that word she understood
Darlington’s smirk. The dead would be raised, but as for
incorruptibility, Grove Street Cemetery was making no
promises. In New Haven, it was best not to hope for
guarantees.
The scene in front of Payne Whitney gym reminded Alex of
the operating theater, police floodlights illuminating the snow,
throwing the shadows of onlookers against the ground in stark
lines. It would have been beautiful, carved in white and black
like a lithograph, but the effect was ruined by barriers of
yellow tape and the lazy, rhythmic whirl of blue and red from
patrol cars that had been parked to block off the intersection
where the two streets conjoined. The activity seemed to be
focused on the triangle of orphaned land at its center.
Alex could see a coroner’s van with its bay doors open;
uniformed officers standing at attention along the perimeter;
men in blue jackets, who she thought might be forensics based
on the television she’d watched; students who had emerged
from their dorms to see what was happening despite the late
hour.
Her time with Len had left her wary of cops. When she was
younger, he’d gotten a kick out of having her help with
deliveries, because no uniform—campus security or LAPD—
was going to stop a chubby kid in braids looking for her big
sister on a high school campus. But as she’d gotten older she’d
lost the look of someone who belonged in wholesome places.
Even when she wasn’t carrying, she’d learned to keep well
clear of cops. Some of them just seemed to smell the trouble
on her. But now she was walking toward them, smoothing her
hair with a gloved hand, just another student.
Centurion wasn’t hard to spot. Alex had met Detective Abel
Turner exactly once before. He’d been smiling, gracious, and
she’d known in an instant that he hated not only her but also
Darlington and everything related to Lethe. She wasn’t sure
why he’d been chosen as Centurion, the liaison between Lethe
House and the Chief of Police, but he clearly didn’t want the
job.
He stood speaking to another detective and a uniform. He
was a full half head taller than either of them, black, his head
shaved in a low fade. He wore a sharp navy suit and what was
probably a real Burberry overcoat, and ambition rolled off him
like thunder. Too pretty, her grandmother would have said.
Quien se prestado se vestio, en medio de la calle se quito.
Estrea Stern didn’t trust handsome men, particularly the well-
dressed ones.
Alex hovered by the barricade. Centurion was on the scene
just as Dawes had promised, but Alex wasn’t sure how to get
his attention or what to do once she had it. The societies met
on Thursdays and Sundays. No ritual of any real risk was
allowed without Lethe House delegates present, but that didn’t
mean someone hadn’t gone off script. Maybe word had spread
that Darlington was “in Spain” and someone at one of the
societies had used the opportunity to mess with something
new. She didn’t think they had any real malice in mind, but the
Tripps and Mirandas of the world could do plenty of damage
without ever meaning to. Their mistakes never stuck.
The crowd around her had dispersed almost immediately
and Alex remembered how bad she must smell, but there was
nothing she could do about it now. She took out her phone and
scrolled through her few contacts. She’d gotten a new phone
when she’d accepted Lethe’s offer, erasing everyone from her
old life in a single act of banishment, so it was a short list of
numbers. Her roommates. Her mom, who texted every
morning with a series of happy faces, as if emoji were their
own incantation. Turner was in there too but Alex had never
texted him, never had cause to.
I’m here, she typed, then added, It’s Dante, on the very
good possibility that he hadn’t bothered to add her to his
contacts.
She watched as Turner drew his phone from his pocket,
read the message. He didn’t look around.
Her phone buzzed a second later.
I know.
Alex waited for ten minutes, twenty. She watched Turner
finish his conversation, consult a woman in a blue jacket, walk
back and forth near a marked-off area, where the body must
have been found.
A cluster of Grays was milling around by the gym. Alex let
her eyes skim over them, landing nowhere, barely focused. A
few were local Grays who could always be found in the area, a
rower who had drowned off the Florida Keys but who now
returned to haunt the training tanks, a heavyset man who had
clearly once been a football player. She thought she glimpsed
the Bridegroom, the city’s most notorious ghost and a favorite
of murder nerds and Haunted New England guidebooks; he
had reputedly killed his fiancée and himself in the offices of a
factory that had once stood barely a mile from here. She didn’t
let her gaze linger to confirm it. Payne Whitney was always a
beacon for Grays, steeped in sweat and endeavor, full of
hunger and fast-beating hearts.
“When did you first see them?” Darlington had asked on
the day they’d first met, the day he’d set the jackals on her.
Darlington knew seven languages. He could fence. He knew
Brazilian jujitsu and how to rewire an electrical box, could
quote poetry and plays by people Alex had never heard of. But
he always asked the wrong questions.
Alex checked her phone. She’d lost another hour. At this
point she probably shouldn’t even bother going to sleep. She
knew she wasn’t high on Turner’s list of priorities, but she was
in a bind.
She typed, My next call is to Sandow.
It was a bluff, one Alex almost hoped Turner wouldn’t fall
for. If he refused to speak to her, she’d happily snitch on him
to the dean—but at a more civilized hour. First she’d go home
and get two glorious hours of sleep.
Instead, she watched Turner take the phone from his
pocket, shake his head, and then saunter over to where she
stood. His nose wrinkled slightly, but all he said was, “Ms.
Stern, how can I help you?”
Alex didn’t really know, but he’d given her plenty of time
to formulate a response. “I’m not here to make trouble for you.
I’m here because I was told to be.”
Turner gave a convincing chuckle. “We all have jobs to do,
Ms. Stern.”
Pretty sure you wish your job entailed wringing my neck
right now. “I understand that, but it’s Thursday night.”
“Preceded by Wednesday, followed by Friday.”
Go ahead and play dumb. Alex would have been happy to
turn her back on him, but she needed something to put in her
report. “Is there a cause of death?”
“Of course something caused her death.”
This asshole. “I meant—”
“I know what you meant. Nothing definitive yet, but I’ll be
sure to write it up for the dean when we know more.”
“If a society is involved—”
“There is no reason to think that.” Like he was at a press
conference, he added, “At this time.”
“It’s Thursday,” she repeated. Though the societies met
twice a week, rituals were only sanctioned on Thursday nights.
Sundays were for “quiet study and inquiry,” which usually
meant a fancy meal served on expensive dishes, the occasional
guest speaker, and plenty of alcohol.
“Were you out with the idiots tonight?” he said, voice still
pleasant. “Is that why you smell like pan-warmed shit? Who
were you with?”
That kick-me troublemaking part of her made her say, “You
sound like a jealous boyfriend.”
“I sound like a cop. Answer me.”
“The Bonesmen are on tonight.”
He looked bemused. “Tell them to return Geronimo’s
skull.”
“They don’t have it,” Alex said truthfully. A few years
back, Geronimo’s heirs had brought suit against the society,
but it had come to nothing. The Bonesmen did have his liver
and small intestine in a jar, but she didn’t feel this was the
moment to point that out.
“Where’s Darlington?” Turner asked.
“Spain.”
“Spain?” For the first time, Turner’s mild expression gave
way.
“Study abroad.”
“And he left you in charge?”
“Sure did.”
“He must have a lot of faith in you.”
“Sure does.” Alex flashed him her most winning grin, and
for a second she thought Detective Turner might smile back,
because it took a con to know a con. But he didn’t. He’d had
to be careful for too long.
“Where are you from, Stern?”
“Why?”
“Look,” he said. “You seem like a nice girl—”
“No,” said Alex. “I don’t.”
Turner raised a brow, cocked his head to the side, assessing,
then nodded, conceding the point. “All right,” he said. “You
have a job to do tonight and so do I. You did your part. You
talked to me. You’ll let Sandow know a girl died here—a
white girl who’s going to get plenty of attention without you
getting in our way. We’re going to keep this far from the
university and … all the rest.” He gave a wave of his hand as
if he were distractedly swatting a fly instead of shooing away a
century-old cabal of ancient magics. “You’ve done your bit
and you can go home. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Hadn’t Alex just thought that very thing? Even so, she
hesitated, feeling Darlington’s judgment heavy on her. “I do.
But Dean Sandow will want—”
Turner’s mask slipped, the fatigue of the night and his
anger at her presence suddenly visible. “She’s town, Stern.
Back the fuck off.”
She’s town. Not a student. Not connected to the societies.
Let it go.
“Yeah,” Alex said. “That’s fine.”
Turner smiled, dimples appearing in his cheeks, boyish,
pleased, almost a real smile. “There ya go.”
He turned away from her, sauntered back to his people.
Alex glanced up at the gray, Gothic cathedral of Payne
Whitney. It didn’t look like a gym, but nothing here looked
like what it was. That’s what you want, isn’t it?
Detective Abel Turner understood her in a way Darlington
never had.
Good. Better. Best. That was the trajectory that got you to
this place. What Darlington and probably all the rest of these
eager, effortful children couldn’t understand was that Alex
would have happily settled for less than Yale. Darlington was
all about the pursuit of perfection, something spectacular. He
didn’t know how precious a normal life could be, how easy it
was to drift away from average. You started sleeping until
noon, skipped one class, one day of school, lost one job, then
another, forgot the way that normal people did things. You lost
the language of ordinary life. And then, without meaning to,
you crossed into a country from which you couldn’t return.
You lived in a state where the ground always seemed to be
slipping from beneath your feet, with no way back to
someplace solid.
It didn’t matter that Alex had witnessed the delegates of
Skull and Bones predict commodities futures using Michael
Reyes’s guts or that she’d once seen the captain of the lacrosse
team turn himself into a vole. (He’d squealed and then—she
could have sworn it—pumped his tiny pink fist.) Lethe was
Alex’s way back to normal. She didn’t need to be exceptional.
She didn’t even need to be good, just good enough. Turner had
given her permission. Go home. Go to sleep. Take a shower.
Get back to the real work of trying to pass your classes and
make it through the year. Her grades from first semester had
been bad enough to land her in academic probation.
She’s town.
Except the societies liked to shop town girls and boys for
their experiments. It was the whole reason Lethe existed. Or a
big part of it. And Alex had spent most of her life as town.
She eyed the coroner’s van, parked half on and half off the
sidewalk. Turner’s back was still to her.
The mistake people made when they didn’t want to get
noticed was to try to look casual, so instead she strode toward
the van with purpose, a girl who needed to get to the dorms. It
was late, after all. When she rounded the back of the vehicle,
she shot one quick glance in Turner’s direction, then slipped
into the wide V of the open van doors as a uniformed coroner
turned to her.
“Hey,” she said. He remained in a half crouch, face wary,
body blocking the view behind him. Alex held up one of the
two gold coins she kept tucked in the lining of her coat. “You
dropped this.”
He saw the glint and without thinking reached out to take it,
his response part courtesy, part trained behavior. Someone
offered you a boon, you accepted. But it was also a magpie
impulse, the lure of something shiny. She felt a little like a
troll in a fairy tale.
“I don’t think …” he began. But as soon as his fingers
closed over the coin, his face went slack, the compulsion
taking hold.
“Show me the body,” Alex said, half-expecting him to
refuse. She’d seen Darlington flash one at a security guard
before, but she’d never used a coin of compulsion herself.
The coroner didn’t even blink, only backed farther into the
van and offered her his hand. She clambered up behind him
with a quick glance over her shoulder and shut the doors. They
wouldn’t have much time. All she needed was for the driver
or, worse, Turner to come knocking on the door and find her
there, having a chat over a corpse. She also wasn’t sure how
long the compulsion would last. This particular bit of magic
had come from Manuscript. They specialized in mirror magic,
glamours, persuasion. Any object could be enchanted, the
most famous being a condom that had convinced a
philandering Swedish diplomat to hand over a cache of
sensitive documents.
The coins took tremendous magic to generate, so they were
kept in tight supply at Lethe, and Alex had been stingy with
her allotted two. Why was she squandering one now?
As Alex joined the coroner in the enclosed space, she saw
his nostrils flare at her smell, but his fingers were already on
the zipper of the body bag, the coin clutched in his other hand.
He was moving too quickly, as if in fast forward, and Alex had
the urge to tell him to just stop for a second, but then the
moment passed and he was pulling the body bag open, the
black vinyl splitting like the skin of a fruit.
“Jesus,” breathed Alex.
The girl’s face was fragile, blue veined. She wore a white
cotton camisole, torn and puckered where the knife had
entered and retreated—again and again. The wounds were all
centered on her heart, and she’d been struck with enough force
that it looked as if her sternum had started to give way, the
bones fracturing in a shallow, bloody crater. Alex was
suddenly sorry she hadn’t taken Turner’s strongly worded
advice and gone home. This didn’t look like a ritual gone
wrong. It looked personal.
She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and forced
herself to inhale deeply. If this girl had somehow been targeted
by a society or was messing with the uncanny, the smell of the
Veil should still be on her. But with Alex’s own stink filling
the ambulance, it was impossible to tell.
“It’s the boyfriend.”
Alex glanced at the coroner. Compulsions were supposed to
make anyone under their power eager to please.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Turner said so. They’ve already picked him up for
questioning. He has priors.”
“For what?”
“Dealing and possession. So does she.”
Of course she did. The boyfriend was moving product, and
this girl was too. But there was a good long leap from small-
time dealing to murder. Sometimes, she reminded herself.
Sometimes it’s not far at all.
Alex looked again at the girl’s face. She was blond, a little
like Hellie.
The resemblance was superficial, at least on the outside.
But underneath? In the cut-open places, they were all the
same. Girls like Hellie, girls like Alex, girls like this one, had
to keep running or eventually trouble caught up. This girl just
hadn’t run fast enough.
There were paper bags over her hands—to preserve the
evidence, Alex realized. Maybe she’d scratched her attacker.
“What’s her name?” It didn’t matter, but Alex needed it for
her report.
“Tara Hutchins.”
Alex typed it into her phone so she wouldn’t forget it.
“Cover her up.”
She was glad when she couldn’t see that brutalized body
anymore. This was nasty, ugly, but it didn’t mean Tara was
connected to the societies. People didn’t need magic to be
terrible to each other.
“Time of death?” she asked. That seemed like the kind of
thing she should know.
“Sometime around eleven. Hard to pinpoint because of the
cold.”
She paused with her hand on the lever of the van doors.
Sometime around eleven. Right around the time two docile
Grays who had never given anyone any trouble had opened
their jaws like they were trying to swallow the world and
something had tried to slam its way into a chalk circle. What if
that something had found its way to Tara instead?
Or what if her boyfriend got fucked up enough to think he
could stab straight through to her heart? There were plenty of
human monsters out there. Alex had met a few. For now she’d
“done her part.” More than done it.
Alex cracked the door to the van, scanned the street, then
hopped down. “Forget you met me,” she told the coroner.
A vague, confused expression crossed his face. Alex left
him standing, dazed, beside Tara’s body and strolled away,
crossing the street and keeping to the dark sidewalk, away
from the police lights. In a short while, the compulsion would
wear off and he’d wonder how he’d ended up with a gold coin
in his hand. He would put it in his pocket and forget about it or
toss it in the trash without ever realizing the metal was real.
She glanced back at the Grays gathered around Payne
Whitney. Was it her imagination or was there something in the
bent of their shoulders, the way they huddled together by the
gymnasium doors? Alex knew better than to look too closely,
but in that fleeting moment she could have sworn they looked
frightened. What did the dead have to fear?
She could hear Darlington’s voice in her head: When was
the first time you saw them? Low and halting, as if he wasn’t
sure whether the question was taboo. But the real question, the
right question, was: When was the first time you knew to be
afraid?
Alex was glad he’d never had the sense to ask.
Where do we begin to tell the story of Lethe? Does it
begin in with Bathsheba Smith? Perhaps it
should. But it would take another seventy years and
many more disasters before Lethe would come to be.
So instead we point to , when Charlie Baxter, a
man with no home and of no consequence, turned up
dead with burns to his hands, feet, and scrotum, and
a black scarab where his tongue should be.
Accusations flew and the societies found themselves
under threat from the university. To heal the rift and
—let us speak frankly—to save themselves, Edward
Harkness, a member of Wolf’s Head, joined with
William Payne Whitney of Skull and Bones, and
Hiram Bingham III of the now-defunct Acacia
Fraternity, to form the League of Lethe as an
oversight body for the societies’ occult activities.
From these earliest meetings rose our mission
statement: We are charged with monitoring the rites
and practices of any senior societies trafficking in
magic, divination, or otherworldly discourse, with
the express intent of keeping citizens and students
safe from mental, physical, and spiritual harm and of
fostering amicable relations between the societies
and school administration.
Lethe was funded by an infusion of capital from
Harkness and a mandatory contribution from the
trusts of each of the Ancient Eight. When Harkness
tapped James Gamble Rogers (Scroll and Key, )
to create a plan for Yale and design many of its
structures, he ensured that safe houses and tunnels
for Lethe would be built throughout the campus.
Harkness, Whitney, and Bingham drew on
knowledge from each of the societies to create a
storehouse of arcane magic for use by the deputies of
Lethe. This was added to significantly in , when
Bingham traveled to Peru.
—from The Life of Lethe: Procedures and
Protocols of the Ninth House
4

Last Fall

“Come on,” Darlington said, helping her to her feet. “The


illusion will break any minute and you’ll be lying in the front
yard like a noon drinker.” He half-dragged her up the stairs to
the porch. She’d handled the jackals well enough, but her
color wasn’t good and she was breathing hard. “You’re in
terrible shape.”
“And you’re an asshole.”
“Then we both have hardships to overcome. You asked me
to tell you what you were getting into. Now you know.”
She yanked her arm away. “Tell me. Not try to kill me.”
He looked at her steadily. It was important she understand.
“You were never in any danger. But I can’t promise that will
always be the case. If you don’t take this seriously, you could
get yourself or someone else hurt.”
“Someone like you?”
“Yes,” he said. “Most of the time nothing too bad happens
at the Houses. You’ll see things you’d like to forget. Miracles
too. But no one completely understands what lies beyond the
Veil or what might happen if it crosses over. Death waits on
black wings and we stand hoplite, hussar, dragoon.”
She placed her hands on her thighs and peered up at him.
“You make that up?”
“Cabot Collins. They called him the Poet of Lethe.”
Darlington reached for the door. “He lost both his hands when
an interdimensional portal closed on them. He was reciting his
latest work at the time.”
Alex shuddered. “Okay, I get it. Bad poetry, serious
business. Are those dogs real?”
“Real enough. They’re spirit hounds, bound to serve the
sons and daughters of Lethe. Why the long sleeves, Stern?”
“Track marks.”
“Really?” He’d suspected that might be the issue, but he
didn’t quite believe her.
She straightened and cracked her back. “Sure. Are we
going in or not?”
He bobbed his chin toward her wrist. “Show me.”
Alex lifted her arm, but she didn’t shove her sleeve back.
She just held it out to him, like he was going to tap a vein for a
blood drive.
A challenge. One that he suddenly didn’t want to accept. It
was none of his business. He should say that. Let it go.
Instead, he took hold of her wrist. The bones were narrow,
sharp in his hand. With his other hand he pushed the fabric of
her shirt up the slope of her forearm. It felt like a prelude.
No needle punctures. Her skin was covered in tattoos: the
curling tail of a rattlesnake, the sunburst bloom of a peony, and

“The Wheel.” He resisted the urge to touch his thumb to the
image below the crook of her elbow. Dawes would be
interested in that bit of tarot. Maybe it would give them
something to talk about. “Why hide tattoos? No one cares
about that here.” Half the student body had them. Not many
had full sleeves, but they weren’t unheard of.
Alex yanked her cuff back down. “Any other hoops to jump
through?”
“Plenty.” He pulled open the door and led her inside.
The entry was dark and cool, the stained glass throwing
bright patterns onto the carpeted floor. Before them, the great
staircase wound along the wall to the second story, dark wood
carved in a thick sunflower motif. Michelle had told him the
staircase alone was worth more than the rest of the house and
the land it was built on.
Alex released a small sigh.
“Glad to be out of the sun?”
She made a soft humming noise. “It’s quiet here.”
It took him a moment to understand what she meant. “Il
Bastone is warded. As are the rooms at the Hutch…. It’s that
bad?”
Alex shrugged.
“Well … they can’t get to you here.”
Alex looked around, her face impassive. Was she
unimpressed by the soaring entry, the warm wood and stained
glass, the scent of pine and cassis that always made stepping
into the house feel a bit like Christmas? Or was she just trying
to seem that way?
“Nice clubhouse,” she said. “Not very tomblike.”
“We’re not a society and we don’t run like one. This isn’t a
clubhouse; it’s our headquarters, the heart of Lethe, and the
storehouse of hundreds of years of knowledge on the occult.”
He knew he sounded like a horrible prig but he couldn’t seem
to stop himself. “The societies tap a new delegation of seniors
every year, sixteen members—eight women, eight men. We
tap a single new Dante—one freshman every three years.”
“Guess that makes me pretty special.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Alex frowned at that, then nodded at the marble bust
propped on a table beneath the coat rack. “Who’s that?”
“The patron saint of Lethe, Hiram Bingham the Third.”
Unfortunately, Bingham’s boyish features and downturned
mouth didn’t lend themselves to immortalization in stone. He
looked like a perturbed department store mannequin.
Dawes shuffled out of the parlor, her hands curled into the
sleeves of her voluminous sweatshirt, her headphones snug
around her neck, a vision in beige. Darlington could feel the
discomfort radiating off her. Pammie hated new people. It had
taken him the better part of his freshman year to win her over,
and he still always had the sense that she might be one loud
noise away from bolting into the library, never to be seen
again.
“Pamela Dawes, meet our new Dante, Alex Stern.”
With all the enthusiasm of someone greeting a cholera
outbreak, Dawes offered her hand and said, “Welcome to
Lethe.”
“Dawes keeps everything running and ensures I don’t make
too big a fool of myself.”
“So it’s a full-time job?” asked Alex.
Dawes blinked. “Evenings and afternoons, but I can make
myself available to you with enough notice.” She glanced back
at the parlor worriedly, as if her long-unfinished dissertation
was a baby crying. Dawes had served as Oculus for nearly
four years and she’d been hammering away on her dissertation
—an examination of Mycenaean cult practices in early tarot
iconography—all the while.
Darlington decided to put her out of her misery. “I’m giving
Alex the tour and then I’ll take her across campus to the
Hutch.”
“The Hutch?” asked Alex.
“Rooms we keep at the corner of York and Elm. It’s not
much, but it’s convenient when you don’t want to trek too far
from your dorm. And it’s warded too.”
“It’s stocked,” Dawes said faintly, already scooting back
into the parlor and safety.
Darlington gestured for Alex to follow him upstairs.
“Who was Bathsheba Smith?” Alex asked on his heels.
Then she had been reading her Life of Lethe. He was
pleased she remembered the name, but, if memory served,
Bathsheba appeared on the first page of the first chapter, so he
wasn’t going to get too excited. “The seventeen-year-old
daughter of a local farmer. Her body was found in the
basement of the Yale Medical School in She’d been dug
up for study by the students.”
“Jesus.”
“It wasn’t uncommon. Doctors needed to study anatomy
and they needed cadavers to do that. But we think Bathsheba
was an early attempt to communicate with the dead. A medical
assistant took the fall, and Yale’s students learned to keep their
activities more quiet. After the discovery of the girl’s body, the
locals nearly burned Yale to the ground.”
“Maybe they should have,” murmured Alex.
Maybe. They’d called it the Resurrection Riot, but it hadn’t
turned truly nasty. Boom or bust, New Haven was a town
forever on the brink of things.
Darlington toured Alex around the rest of Il Bastone: the
grand parlor, with the old map of New Haven above the
fireplace; the kitchen and pantry; the downstairs training
rooms; and the second-floor armory, with its wall of
apothecary drawers, all of them stocked with herbs and sacred
objects.
It was left to Dawes to make sure they were kept well
supplied, that any perishable items were freshened or disposed
of before they turned foul, and to maintain any artifacts that
required it. Cuthbert’s Pearls of Protection had to be worn for
a few hours every month or they lost both their luster and their
power to protect the wearer from lightning strikes. A Lethe
alum named Lee De Forest, who had once been suspended as
an undergrad for causing a campus-wide blackout, had left
Lethe with countless inventions, including the Revolution
Clock, which showed an accurate-to-the-minute countdown to
armed revolt in countries around the globe. It had twenty-two
faces and seventy-six hands and had to be wound regularly or
it would simply begin screaming.
Darlington pointed out the stores of bone dust and
graveyard dirt, with which they would provision themselves
on Thursday nights, and the rare vials of Perdition Water, said
to come from the seven rivers of hell and that were to be used
only in case of emergency. Darlington had never had cause to
tap into any of them, but he kept hoping.
At the center of the room sat Hiram’s Crucible, or, as the
delegates of Lethe liked to call it, “the Golden Bowl.” It was
the circumference of a tractor wheel and made of beaten
twenty-two-karat gold.
“For years, Lethe knew there were ghosts in New Haven.
There were hauntings, rumors of sightings, and some of the
societies had managed to pierce the Veil through séances and
summonings. But Lethe knew there was more, a secret world
operating beside ours and frequently interfering with it.”
“Interfering with it how?” Alex asked, and he could see the
narrow line of her shoulders tighten, that slightly hunched
fighter’s stance.
“At the time, no one was sure. They suspected that the
presence of Grays in sacred circles and temple halls was
disrupting the spells and rituals of the societies. There were
signs that stray magic loosed from rituals by the interference
of Grays could cause anything from a sudden frost ten miles
away to violent outbursts in schoolchildren. But Lethe had no
proof and no way to prevent it. Year after year they attempted
to perfect an elixir that would allow them to see spirits,
experimenting on themselves through sometimes-deadly trial
and error. Still, they had nothing to show for their work. Until
Hiram’s Crucible.”
Alex ran her finger against the gilded edge of the basin. “It
looks like a sun.”
“Many of the structures in Machu Picchu were dedicated to
the worship of the sun god.”
“This thing came from Peru?” Alex asked. “You don’t need
to look so surprised. I know where Machu Picchu is. I can
even find Texas on a map if you give me enough time.”
“You’ll have to forgive my lack of familiarity with the
curriculum of the Los Angeles School District or your interest
in same.”
“Forgiven.”
Maybe, thought Darlington. But Alex Stern looked like the
type to hold a grudge.
“Hiram Bingham was one of the founding members of
Lethe. He ‘discovered’ Machu Picchu in , though that
word tends to ruffle feathers, since the locals were perfectly
aware of its existence.” When Alex said nothing, he added,
“He was also rumored to be the inspiration for Indiana Jones.”
“Nice,” said Alex.
Darlington held back a sigh. Of course that would be what
got her attention. “Bingham stole about forty thousand
artifacts.”
“And brought them back here?”
“Yes, to Yale, to be studied at the Peabody. He said they
would be returned after eighteen months. It took literally one
hundred years for Peru to get them back.”
Alex flicked her finger against the crucible and it emitted a
low hum. “They forget this in the return shipment? It seems
pretty hard to miss.”
“The crucible was never documented because it was never
given to Yale. It was brought to Lethe.”
“Stolen goods.”
“Very much so, I’m afraid. But it’s the key to the Orozcerio.
The problem with Lethe’s elixir wasn’t the recipe; it was the
vessel.”
“So it’s a magical mixing bowl?”
Such a little heathen. “I might not put it that way, but yes.”
“And it’s gold all the way through?”
“Before you think about trying to run off with it, keep in
mind that it weighs twice as much as you do and that the
whole house is warded against theft.”
“If you say so.”
With his luck she’d find a way to roll the crucible down the
stairs into the back of a truck and melt it down for earrings.
“The elixir has plenty of other names besides Orozcerio,”
he said. “The Golden Trial. Hiram’s Bullet. Every time a
member of Lethe drinks it, every time the crucible is used, he
takes his life in his hands. The mixture is toxic and the process
incredibly painful. But we do it. Again and again. For a
glimpse behind the Veil.”
“I get it,” said Alex. “I’ve met users before.”
It isn’t like that, he wanted to protest. But maybe it was.
The rest of the tour was uneventful. Darlington showed her
the storage and research rooms in the upper stories, how to use
the library—though he warned her not to use it on her own
until the house got to know her—and finally the bedroom and
adjoining bath, tidied and readied for her as Lethe’s new
Dante. He’d moved his own things to Virgil’s suite at the end
of last year, back when he’d still believed he’d have a proper
protégé. He’d felt embarrassingly sentimental about it all.
Virgil’s quarters were a floor above Dante’s and twice as large.
When he graduated, they would be left empty so that they
would be available to him if he chose to visit. The vanity had
belonged to Eleazar Wheelock. Half of the wall facing the bed
was taken up by a stained-glass window depicting a hemlock
wood, positioned so that as the sun rose and set throughout the
day, the colors of the glass trees and the sky above it seemed
to change as well. When he’d moved in, he discovered that
Michelle had left him a bottle of brandy and a note on her last
visit:
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines
and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garment green, indistinct
in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and
prophetic …
There was a monastery that produced Armagnac so
refined, its monks were forced to flee to Italy when
Louis XIV joked about killing them to protect their
secrets. This is the last bottle. Don’t drink it on an
empty stomach, and don’t call unless you’re dead.
Good luck, Virgil!
He’d always thought Longfellow was tripe, but he’d
treasured the note and the brandy anyway.
Now he watched Alex sweating amid the luxury of his old
rooms, rooms that had been rarely used but much beloved—
the dark blue walls, the canopied bed with its heavy teal
covers, the armoire painted with white dogwood. The stained
glass here was more modest, two elegant windows—clouds in
shades of blue and violet set atop starry skies—bracketing a
fireplace of painted tiles.
Alex stood at the center of it all, her arms wrapped around
her middle, turning slowly. He thought again of Undine. But
maybe she was just a girl lost at sea.
He had to ask. “When did you first see them?”
She glanced at him, then at the window above her, the
moon waxing forever in a stained-glass sky. She picked up the
Reuge music box from the desk, touched her finger to the lid,
but then thought better of it, set it down.
Darlington was a good talker, but he was happiest when no
one was speaking to him, when he didn’t have to perform the
ritual of himself and he could simply be left to watch others.
Alex had a grainy quality to her, like an old film. He could tell
she was making a choice. Whether to reveal her secrets?
Whether to run?
She shrugged and he thought she would leave it at that, but
then she picked up the music box again and said, “I don’t
know. I thought they were people for a while, and it’s not like
anyone pays attention to a kid talking to no one. I remember
seeing a fat guy in nothing but socks and undershorts, holding
a remote control in one hand like a teddy bear and standing in
the middle of the street. I remember trying to tell my mom he
was going to get hurt. On our trip to the Santa Monica Pier, I
saw a woman lying in the water like a picture of …” She
gestured as if stirring a pot. “With her hair and the flowers?”
“Ophelia.”
“Ophelia. She followed me home, and when I cried and
shouted at her to leave, she just tried to push closer.”
“They like tears. The salt, the sadness, any strong emotion.”
“Fear?” she asked. She was so still, as if she were posing for a
portrait.
“Fear.” Few Grays were malevolent, but they did love to
startle and terrify.
“Why aren’t there more of them? Shouldn’t they be
everywhere?”
“Only a few Grays can pass through the Veil. The vast
majority remain in the afterlife.”
“I’d see them at the supermarket, around the hot-foods case
or those pink bakery boxes. They loved our school cafeteria. I
didn’t think about it much until Jacob Craig asked if I wanted
to see his thing. I told him I’d seen plenty of them, and
somehow it got back to his mom, and she called the school. So
the teacher brings me in and asks, ‘What do you mean you’ve
seen lots of things?’ I didn’t know to lie.” She plunked the
music box down. “If you want to get Child Protective Services
called fast, just start talking about ghost dick.”
Darlington wasn’t sure what he’d expected. A dead
highwayman lurking romantically at the window? A banshee
roaming the banks of the Los Angeles River like La Llorona?
There was something so ordinary and awful about her story.
About her. Someone had reported Alex’s case to CPS, and one
of Lethe’s search algorithms or one of their many contacts in
one of the many bureaus that they paid off had caught mention
of those notable key words: Delusions. Paranoia. Ghosts.
From that point on, she’d probably been watched. “And that
night in the apartment on Cedros?”
She frowned and then said, “Oh, you mean Ground Zero.
Don’t tell me you haven’t read the file.”
“I have. I want to know how you survived.”
Alex rubbed her thumb over the edge of the windowsill.
“So do I.”
Was that enough? Darlington had seen the crime-scene
photos, video taken by officers arriving on scene. Five men
dead, all of them beaten nearly unrecognizable, two of them
staked through the heart like vampires. Despite the carnage,
blood spatter indicated it was all the work of one perpetrator—
arcs of red, every vicious blow struck from left to right.
Something was off about the whole thing, but Alex was
never a suspect. For one thing, she was right-handed, and for
another, she was far too small to have wielded a weapon with
so much force. Besides, she had enough fentanyl in her system
that she was lucky she hadn’t died herself. Her hair had been
wet and she’d been found naked as a newborn. Darlington had
dug a little deeper, unable to shake his suspicions, but there
had been no blood or remains in the drain—if she’d somehow
been involved, she hadn’t showered the proof away. So why
had the attacker left the girls alone? If the police were right
and this was some kind of beef with another dealer, why spare
Alex and her friend? Drug dealers who beat people to death
with bats didn’t seem like the spare-the-women-and-children
type. Maybe the attacker had believed they were dead already
from the drugs. Or maybe Alex had tipped someone off. But
she knew something more about what had happened than
she’d told the police. He felt it in his bones.
“Hellie and I got high,” she said quietly, still brushing her
finger against the windowsill. “I woke up in the hospital. She
didn’t wake up at all.”
She looked very small suddenly and Darlington felt a stab
of shame. She was twenty, older than most freshmen, but she
was still just a kid in a lot of ways, in over her head. And she’d
lost friends that night, her boyfriend, everything familiar.
“Come with me,” he said. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe
because he felt guilty for prying. Maybe because she didn’t
deserve to be punished for saying yes to a bargain no right-
minded person would refuse.
He led her back to the gloom of the armory. It had no
windows, and its walls were lined in shelves and drawers
nearly two stories high. It took him a moment to find the
cupboard he wanted. When he rested his hand on the door, the
house paused, then let the lock give with a disapproving click.
Carefully, he removed the box—heavy, gleaming black
wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
“You’ll probably need to remove your shirt,” he said. “I’ll
give Dawes the box and she can—”
“Dawes doesn’t like me.”
“Dawes doesn’t like anyone.”
“Here,” she said. She pulled the shirt over her head,
revealing a black bra and ribs shadowed like the furrows of a
tilled field. “Don’t get Dawes.”
Why was she so willing to put herself in his hands? Was
she unafraid or just reckless? Neither trait boded well for her
future at Lethe. But he had the sense that it was neither of
those things. It felt like she was testing him now, like she’d
laid down another challenge.
“Some propriety wouldn’t kill you,” he said.
“Why take the chance?”
“Usually when a woman takes her clothes off in front of me
I have some warning.”
Alex shrugged, and the shadows moved over her skin.
“Next time, I’ll light the signal fires.”
“That would be best.”
Tattoos covered her from wrist to shoulder and spread
beneath her clavicles. They looked like armor.
He opened the box’s lid.
Alex drew in a sudden breath and skittered backward.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. She’d retreated nearly halfway
across the room.
“I don’t like butterflies.”
“They’re moths.” They perched in even rows in the box,
soft white wings fluttering.
“Whatever.”
“I’ll need you to stay still,” he said. “Can you?”
“Why?”
“Just trust me. It will be worth it.” He considered. “If it’s
not, I’ll drive you and your roommates to Ikea.”
Alex balled her shirt in her fists. “And take us for pizza
after.”
“Fine.”
“And dear Aunt Eileen is going to buy me some new fall
clothes.”
“Fine. Now come here, you coward.”
She crossed back to him in a kind of sideways shuffle,
averting her eyes from the contents of the box.
One by one, he took out the moths and laid them gently on
her skin. One at her right wrist, her right forearm, the crook of
her elbow, her slender biceps, the knob of her shoulder. He
repeated the process with her left arm, then placed two moths
at the points of her collarbones where the heads of two black
snakes curled, their tongues nearly meeting at the hollow of
her throat.
“Chabash,” he murmured. The moths beat their wings in
unison. “Uverat.” They flapped their wings again and began
to turn gray. “Memash.”
With each beat of their wings, the moths grew darker and
the tattoos started to fade.
Alex’s chest rose and fell in jagged, rapid bursts. Her eyes
were wide with fear, but as the moths darkened and the ink
vanished from her skin, her expression changed, opened. Her
lips parted.
She’s seen the dead, he thought. She’s witnessed horrors.
But she’s never seen magic.
This was why he had done it, not because of guilt or pride
but because this was the moment he’d been waiting for: the
chance to show someone else wonder, to watch them realize
that they had not been lied to, that the world they’d been
promised as children was not something that had to be
abandoned, that there really was something lurking in the
wood, beneath the stairs, between the stars, that everything
was full of mystery.
The moths beat their wings again, again, until they were
black, then blacker. One by one they tipped from her arms and
dropped to the floor in a faint patter. Alex’s arms were bare,
stripped of all sign of the tattoos, though in places where the
needle had gone deep, he could still discern faint ridges. Alex
held her arms out, breath coming in gasps.
Darlington gathered the moths’ fragile bodies, placing them
gently in the box.
“Are they dead?” she whispered.
“Ink drunk.” He shut the lid and placed the box back in the
cupboard. This time the lock’s click seemed more resigned. He
and the house were going to have to have a discussion.
“Address moths were originally used for transporting
classified material. Once they drank a document, they could be
sent anywhere in a coat pocket or a box of antiques. Then
they’d be placed on a fresh sheet of paper and would recreate
the document to the word. As long as the recipient knew the
right incantation.”
“So we could put my tattoos on you?”
“They might not fit quite right, but we could. Just be
careful …” He waved a hand. “In the throes. Human saliva
reverses the magic.”
“Only human?”
“Yes. Feel free to let a dog lick your elbows.”
Then she turned her gaze on him. In the shadows of the
room, her eyes looked black, wild. “Is there more?”
He didn’t have to ask what she meant. Would the world
keep unraveling? Keep spilling its secrets?
“Yes. There’s plenty more.”
She hesitated. “Will you show me?”
“If you let me.”
Alex smiled then, a small thing, a glimpse of the girl
lurking inside her, a happy, less haunted girl. That was what
magic did. It revealed the heart of who you’d been before life
took away your belief in the possible. It gave back the world
all lonely children longed for. That was what Lethe had done
for him. Maybe it could do that for Alex as well.
Months later, he would remember the weight of the moths’
bodies in his palm. He would think of that moment and how
foolish he had been to think he knew her at all.
5

Winter

The sky was already fading into gray when Alex finally made
it back to Old Campus. She’d stopped at the Hutch to shower
with verbena soap beneath a hanging censer filled with cedar
and palo santo—the only things that would counter the stink of
the Veil.
She had spent so little time in Lethe places by herself. She
had always been with Darlington, and she still expected to see
him tucked into the window seat with a book, expected to hear
him grumble that she’d used all of the hot water. He’d
suggested leaving clothes there and at Il Bastone, but Alex
already had so little to wear that she couldn’t afford to stash an
extra pair of jeans and one of her two bras somewhere other
than her ugly school-issue dresser. So when she stepped out of
the bathroom into the narrow dressing room, she had to opt for
Lethe House sweats—the Lethe spirit hound embroidered at
the left breast and right hip, a symbol meaningless to anyone
but society members. Darlington’s own clothes still hung there
—a Barbour jacket, a striped Davenport College scarf, fresh
jeans neatly folded and creased, perfectly broken-in engineer
boots, and a pair of Sperry Top-Siders just waiting for
Darlington to slip into them. She’d never seen him wear them,
but maybe you had to have a pair in case your preppy card got
pulled.
Alex left a green desk lamp burning at the Hutch. Dawes
wouldn’t like it, but she couldn’t quite bear to leave the rooms
in darkness.
She was unlocking the door to the Vanderbilt entryway
when a text arrived from Dean Sandow: Have confabbed w
Centurion. Rest easy.
She wanted to throw her phone across the courtyard. Rest
easy? If Sandow intended to handle the murder directly, why
had she wasted her time—and her coin of compulsion—
visiting the crime scene? She knew the dean didn’t trust her.
Why would he? He’d probably been up with a cup of
chamomile tea when he got the news of Tara’s death, his big
dog asleep on his feet, waiting by the phone to make sure
nothing went horribly wrong at the prognostication and Alex
didn’t humiliate herself or Lethe. Of course he wouldn’t want
her anywhere near a murder.
Rest easy. Everything else went unsaid: I don’t expect you
to handle this. No one expects you to handle this. No one
expects you to do anything but keep from drawing unwanted
attention until we get Darlington back.
If they could find him. If they could somehow bring him
home from whatever dark place he’d gone. In less than a week
they’d attempt the new-moon rite. Alex didn’t understand the
specifics, only that Dean Sandow believed it would work and
that, until it did, her job was to make sure that no one asked
too many questions about Lethe’s missing golden boy. At least
now she didn’t have a homicide to worry about or a grumpy
detective to deal with.
When she entered the common room to find Mercy already
awake, Alex was glad she’d stopped to shower and change.
She had thought college dorms would be like hotels, long
hallways pocked with bedrooms, but Vanderbilt felt more like
an old-fashioned apartment building, full of tinny music,
people humming and laughing as they went in and out of the
shared bathrooms, the slamming of doors echoing up and
down the central staircase. The squat she’d shared with Len
and Hellie and Betcha and the others had been noisy, but its
sighs and moans had been different, defeated, like a dying
body.
“You’re awake,” Alex said.
Mercy glanced up from her copy of To the Lighthouse, its
pages thick with pastel sticky notes. Her hair was in an
elaborate braid, and instead of bundling up in their ratty
afghan, she’d thrown a silk robe patterned with blue hyacinths
over her jeans. “Did you even come home last night?”
Alex took a chance. “Yeah. You were already snoring. I just
got up to get a run in.”
“You went to the gym? Are the showers even open this
early?”
“For crew and stuff.” Alex wasn’t actually sure this was
true, but she knew Mercy cared less about sports than just
about anything. Besides, Alex didn’t own running shoes or a
sports bra, and Mercy never asked about that. People didn’t go
looking for lies that didn’t have a reason, and why would
anyone lie about going for a morning run?
“Psychos.” Mercy tossed a stapled stack of pages at Alex,
who caught them but couldn’t quite bring herself to look. Her
Milton essay. Mercy had offered to give it a read. Alex could
already see the red pen all over it.
“How was it?” she asked, shuffling into their bedroom.
“Not terrible.”
“But not good,” Alex muttered as she entered their tiny
cave of a room and stripped out of her sweats. Mercy had
covered her side of the wall in posters, family photos, ticket
stubs from Broadway shows, a poem written in Chinese
characters that Mercy said her parents made her memorize for
dinner parties when she was a kid but that she’d fallen in love
with, a series of Alexander McQueen sketches, a starburst of
red envelopes. Alex knew it was partially an act, a
construction of the person Mercy wanted to be at Yale, but
every item, every object connected her to something. Alex felt
like someone had come along early and snipped all of her
threads. Her grandmother had been her closest link to any kind
of real past, but Estrea Stern had died when Alex was nine.
And Mira Stern had grieved her but she’d had no interest in
her mother’s stories or songs, the way she cooked or prayed.
She called herself an explorer—homeopathy, allopathy,
healing gemstones, Kryon, spirit science, three months when
she’d put spirulina in everything—each embraced with the
same fierce optimism, dragging Alex along from one silver
bullet to the next. As for Alex’s father, Mira was hazy on the
details, hazier when pushed. He was a question mark, Alex’s
phantom half. All she knew was that he loved the ocean, that
he was a Gemini, and that he was brown—Mira couldn’t tell
her if he was Dominican or Guatemalan or Puerto Rican, but
she did know he was Aquarius rising with his moon in
Scorpio. Or something. Alex could never remember.
She’d brought few objects from home. She hadn’t wanted
to return to Ground Zero to pick up any of her old stuff, and
the belongings in her mother’s apartment were little-girl things
—plastic ponies, rosettes made of colored ribbons, bubble-
gum-scented erasers. In the end, she’d packed a hunk of
smoky quartz that her mother had given her, her
grandmother’s nearly illegible recipe cards, an earring tree
she’d had since she was eight, and a retro map of California,
which she hung next to Mercy’s poster of Coco Chanel. “I
know she was a fascist,” Mercy had said. “But I can’t quit
her.”
Dean Sandow had suggested Alex purchase a few
sketchbooks and charcoal too, and she’d dutifully placed them
atop her half-empty dresser as cover.
Alex had tried to choose the easiest subjects possible—
English lit, her Spanish requirement, an introductory sociology
course, painting. She’d thought at least English would be easy
because she liked to read. Even when things had been really
bad in school, she’d still been able to fake her way through
those classes. But this English was an entirely different
language. She’d gotten a D on her first paper, with a note that
said, This is a book report. It had been just like high school
except she’d actually been trying.
“I love you, but this essay is a mess,” said Mercy from the
common room. “It would probably be better if you spent less
time working out and more time working.” No shit, thought
Alex. Mercy was going to be in for a real surprise if she ever
asked Alex to jog somewhere or lift something heavy. “We can
go through it over breakfast.”
All Alex wanted was sleep, but going back to bed didn’t
seem to be the thing people did after a run, and Mercy had
done her the courtesy of editing her awful English paper, so
she definitely needed to say yes to breakfast. Lethe had
provided Alex with a tutor, an American Studies grad student
named Angus who spent most of their weekly sessions bent
over Alex’s work, snorting in exasperation and shaking his
head like a horse plagued by flies. Mercy wasn’t exactly
gentle, but she was a lot more patient.
Alex yanked on jeans and a T-shirt, then the black cashmere
sweater she’d prized so much when she’d picked it out at
Target. It was only when she’d seen Lauren’s lush lavender
pullover and foolishly asked, “What is this made of?” that
she’d understood there were as many kinds of cashmere as
there were of cush, and that her own sad sweater pulled from

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

Advances in Molten Slags, Fluxes, and Salts: Proceedings of the 10th International Conference on Molten Slags, Fluxes and Salts

Introduction

This collection focuses on ferrous and non-ferrous metallurgy where ionic melts, slags, fluxes, or salts play important roles in industrial growth and economy worldwide. Technical topics included are: thermodynamic properties and phase diagrams and kinetics of slags, fluxes, and salts; physical properties of slags, fluxes, and salts; structural studies of slags; interfacial and process phenomena involving foaming, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, bubble formation, and drainage; slag recycling, refractory erosion/corrosion, and freeze linings; and recycling and utilization of metallurgical slags and models and their applications in process improvement and optimization. These topics are of interest to not only traditional ferrous and non-ferrous metal industrial processes but also new and upcoming technologies.

Keywords

ferrous metallurgy non-ferrous metallurgy thermodynamics industry slag and salt

Editors and affiliations

  • Ramana G. Reddy
  • Pinakin Chaubal
  • P. Chris Pistorius
  • Uday Pal
  1. alloverlimo.us University of AlabamaUSA
  2. alloverlimo.us R&DArcelorMittal USAUSA
  3. alloverlimo.usie Mellon UniversityUSA
  4. alloverlimo.us UniversityUSA

About the editors

The Minerals, Metals & Materials Society (TMS) is a member-driven international professional society dedicated to fostering the exchange of learning and ideas across the entire range of materials science and engineering, from minerals processing and primary metals production, to basic research and the advanced applications of materials, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Included among its nearly 13, professional Sandboxie keygen Archives student members are metallurgical and materials engineers, scientists, researchers, educators, and administrators from more than 70 countries on six continents. For more information on TMS, visit alloverlimo.us

Bibliographic information

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

%(3)% found this document useful (3 votes)
views pages

Original Title

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (1)

Copyright

Available Formats

PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Did you find this document useful?

Contents

Dedication
Title Page
Author’s Note
Prologue Early Spring

1 Winter
2 Last Fall
3 Winter
4 Last Fall

5 Winter
6 Last Fall
7 Winter

8 Winter
9 Winter
10 Last Fall
11 Winter
12 Winter

13 Last Fall
14 Winter
15 Winter
16 Winter
17 Winter
18 Last Fall

19 Last Summer
20 Winter
21 Winter
22 Winter
23 Winter
24 Winter
25 Winter

26 Winter
27 Winter

28 Early Spring

29 Early Spring
30 Early Spring

31 Early Spring
32 Spring

The Houses of the Veil


Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Leigh Bardugo


Copyright
Author’s Note

The societies of Yale University and their prestigious alumni


are very real, but the characters and events described in these
pages are all the product of the author’s imagination, and as far
as I know, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, no one has ever used magic to fix an election.
Ay una moza y una moza que nonse espanta de la muerte
porque tiene padre y madre y sus doge hermanos cazados.
Caza de tre tabacades y un cortijo enladriado.
En medio de aquel cortijo havia un mansanale
que da mansanas de amores en vierno y en verano.
Adientro de aquel cortijo siete grutas hay fraguada.
En cada gruta y gruta ay echado cadenado….
El huerco que fue ligero se entró por el cadenado.
—La Moza y El Huerco
Th ere is a girl, a girl who does not fear death
Because she has her father and her mother and her twelve
hunter brothers,
A home of three floors and a barnyard farm house,
In the middle of the farm, an apple tree that gives love
apples in the winter and summer.
In the farm there are seven grottos,
Each and every grotto secured….
Death was light and slipped in through the lock.
—Death and the Girl,
Sephardic ballad
Prologue

Early Spring

By the time Alex managed to get the blood out of her good
wool coat, it was too warm to wear it. Spring had come on
grudgingly; pale blue mornings failed to deepen, turning
instead to moist, sullen afternoons, and stubborn frost lined the
road in high, dirty meringues. But sometime around mid-
March, the slices of lawn between the stone paths of Old
Campus began to sweat themselves free of snow, emerging
wet, black, and tufty with matted grass, and Alex found herself
notched into the window seat in the rooms hidden on the top
floor of York, reading Suggested Requirements for Lethe
Candidates.
She heard the clock on the mantel tick, the chiming of the
bell as customers came and went in the clothing store below.
The secret rooms above the shop were affectionately known as
the Hutch by Lethe members, and the commercial space
beneath them had been, at varying times, a shoe store, a
wilderness outfitter, and a twenty-four-hour Wawa mini-mart
with its own Taco Bell counter. The Lethe diaries from those
years were filled with complaints about the stink of refried
beans and grilled onions seeping up through the floor—until
, when someone had enchanted the Hutch and the back
staircase that led to the alley so that they smelled always of
fabric softener and clove.
Alex had discovered the pamphlet of Lethe House
guidelines sometime in the blurred weeks after the incident at
the mansion on Orange. She had checked her email only once
since then on the Hutch’s old desktop, seen the long string of
messages from Dean Sandow, and logged off. She’d let the
battery run down on her phone, ignored her classes, watched
the branches sprout leaves at the knuckles like a woman trying
on rings. She ate all the food in the pantries and freezer—the
fancy cheeses and packs of smoked salmon first, then the cans
of beans and syrup-soaked peaches in boxes marked
emergency rations. When they were gone, she ordered takeout
aggressively, charging it all to Darlington’s still-active
account. The trip down and up the stairs was tiring enough that
she had to rest before she tore into her lunch or dinner, and
sometimes she didn’t bother to eat at all, just fell asleep in the
window seat or on the floor beside the plastic bags and foil-
wrapped containers. No one came to check on her. There was
no one left.
The pamphlet was cheaply printed, bound with staples, a
black-and-white picture of Harkness Tower on the cover, We
Are the Shepherds printed beneath it. She doubted the Lethe
House founders had Johnny Cash in mind when they’d chosen
their motto, but every time she saw those words she thought of
Christmastime, of lying on the old mattress in Len’s squat in
Van Nuys, room spinning, a half-eaten can of cranberry sauce
on the floor beside her, and Johnny Cash singing, “We are the
shepherds, we walked ’cross the mountains. We left our flocks
when the new star appeared.” She thought of Len rolling over,
sliding his hand under her shirt, murmuring into her ear,
“Those are some shitty shepherds.”
The guidelines for Lethe House candidates were located
near the back of the pamphlet and had last been updated in

High academic achievement with an emphasis on history and
chemistry.
Facility with languages and a working knowledge of Latin and
Greek.
Good physical health and hygiene. Evidence of a regular
fitness regimen encouraged.
Exhibits signs of a steady character with a mind toward
discretion.
An interest in the arcane is discouraged, as this is a frequent
indicator of an “outsider” disposition.
Should demonstrate no squeamishness toward the realities of
the human body.
MORS VINCIT OMNIA.

Alex—whose knowledge of Latin was less than working—


looked it up: Death conquers all. But in the margin, someone
had scrawled irrumat over vincit, nearly obliterating the
original with blue ballpoint pen.
Beneath the Lethe requirements, an addendum read:
Standards for candidates have been relaxed in two
circumstances: Lowell Scott (B.A., English, ) and Sinclair
Bell Braverman (no degree, ), with mixed results.
Another note had been scratched into the margin here, this
one clearly in Darlington’s jagged, EKG-like scrawl: Alex
Stern. She thought of the blood soaking the carpet of the old
Anderson mansion black. She thought of the dean—the
startled white of his femur jutting from his thigh, the stink of
wild dogs filling the air.
Alex set aside the aluminum container of cold falafel from
Mamoun’s, wiped her hands on her Lethe House sweats. She
limped to the bathroom, popped open the bottle of zolpidem,
and tucked one beneath her tongue. She cupped her hand
beneath the faucet, watched the water pour over her fingers,
listened to the grim sucking sound from the mouth of the
drain. Standards for candidates have been relaxed in two
circumstances.
For the first time in weeks, she looked at the girl in the
water-speckled mirror, watched as that bruised girl lifted her
tank top, the Advanced Installer 15.6 crack Archives stained yellow with pus. The wound in
Alex’s side was a deep divot, crusted black. The bite had left a
visible curve that she knew would heal badly, if it healed at all.
Her map had been changed. Her coastline altered. Mors
irrumat omnia. Death fucks us all.
Alex touched her fingers gently to the hot red skin
surrounding the teeth marks. The wound was getting infected.
She felt some kind of concern, her mind nudging her toward
self-preservation, but the idea of picking up the phone, getting
a ride to the undergrad health center—the sequence of actions
each new Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen would incite—was overwhelming, and the
warm, dull throb of her body setting fire to itself had become
almost companionable. Maybe she’d get a fever, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, start
hallucinating.
She eyed the thrust of her ribs, the blue veins like downed
power lines beneath her fading bruises. Her lips were
feathered with chapped skin. She thought of her name inked
into the margins of the pamphlet—the third circumstance.
“Results were decidedly mixed,” she said, startled by the
husky rattle of her voice. She laughed and the drain seemed to
chuckle with her. Maybe she already had a fever.
In the fluorescent glare of the bathroom lights, she gripped
the edges of the bite in her side and dug her fingers into it,
pinching the flesh around her stitches until the pain dropped
over her like a mantle, the blackout coming on in a welcome
rush.
That was in the spring. But the trouble had begun on a night
in the full dark of winter, when Tara Hutchins died and Alex
still thought she might get away with everything.
Skull and Bones, oldest of the landed societies, first
of the eight Houses of the Veil, founded in The
Bonesmen can boast more presidents, publishers,
captains of industry, and cabinet members than any
other society (for a full list of its alumni, please see
Appendix C), and perhaps “boast” is the right word.
The Bonesmen are aware of their influence and
expect the deference of Lethe delegates. They would
do well to remember their own motto: Rich or poor,
all are equal in death. Conduct yourself with IVT BlueSoleil 10.0.498.0 Crack Keygen Activation Key Full Version Latest and diplomacy warranted by your office
and association with Lethe, but remember always
that our duty is not to prop up the vanity of Yale’s
best and brightest but to stand between the living
and the dead.
—from The Life of Lethe: Procedures and
Protocols of the Ninth House
The Bonesmen fancy themselves titans among
pissants, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, and ain’t that a bite. But who am I to
quibble when the drinks are stiff and the girls are
pretty?
—Lethe Days Diary of George Petit
(Saybrook College ’56)
1

Winter

Alex hurried across the wide, alien plane of Beinecke Plaza,


boots thudding over flat squares of clean concrete. The giant
cube of the rare-books collection seemed to float above its
lower story. During the day its panels glowed amber, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, a
burnished golden hive, less a library than a temple. At night it
just looked like a tomb. This part of campus didn’t quite fit
with the rest of Yale—no gray stone or Gothic arches, no
rebellious little outcroppings of red-brick buildings, which
Darlington had explained were not actually Colonial but only
meant to look that way. He’d explained the reasons for the
way Beinecke had been built, the way it was supposed to
mirror and slot into this corner of the campus architecture, but
it still felt like a seventies sci-fi movie to her, like the students
should all be wearing unitards or too-short tunics, drinking
something called the Extract, eating food in pellets. Even the
big metal Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen that she now knew was by Alexander
Calder reminded her of a giant lava lamp in negative.
“It’s Calder,” she murmured beneath her breath. That was
the way people here talked about art. Nothing was by anyone.
The sculpture is Calder. The painting is Rothko. The house is
Neutra.
And Alex was late. She had begun the night with good
intentions, determined to get ahead of her Modern British
Novel essay and leave with plenty of time to make it to the
prognostication. But she’d fallen asleep in one of the Sterling
Library reading rooms, a copy of Nostromo gripped loosely in
her hand, feet propped on a heating duct. At half past ten,
she’d woken with a start, drool trickling across her cheek. Her
startled “Shit!” had gone off like a shotgun blast in the quiet of
the library, and she’d buried her face in her scarf as she slung
her bag over her shoulder and made her escape.
Now she cut through Commons, beneath the rotunda where
the names of the war dead were carved deep into the marble,
and stone figures stood vigil—Peace, Devotion, Memory, and
finally Courage, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, who wore a helmet and shield and little else
and had always looked to Alex more like a stripper than a
mourner. She charged down the steps and across the
intersection of College and Grove.
The campus had a way of changing faces from hour to hour
and block to block so that Alex always felt as if she were
meeting it for the first time. Tonight it was a sleepwalker,
breathing deep and even. The people she passed on her way to
SSS seemed locked in a dream, soft-eyed, faces turned to one
another, steam rising off the cups of coffee in their gloved
hands. She had the eerie sense that they were dreaming Malwarebytes Premium (Windows, Mac or Android) for 3 months keygen, a
girl in a dark coat who would disappear when they woke.
Sheffield-Sterling-Strathcona Hall was drowsing too, the
classrooms closed up tight, hallways cast in energy-saving
half-light. Alex took the stairs to the second floor and heard
noise echoing from one of the lecture halls. Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen Yale Social
screened movies there every Thursday night. Mercy had
tacked the schedule to the door of their dorm room, but Alex
hadn’t bothered to study it. Her Thursdays were full.
Tripp Helmuth slouched against the wall beside the doors to
the lecture hall. He acknowledged Alex with a heavy-lidded
nod. Even in the dim light, she could see his eyes were
bloodshot. No doubt he’d smoked before he showed up
tonight. Maybe that was why the elder Bonesmen had stuck
him on guard duty. Or maybe he’d volunteered.
“You’re late,” he said. “They started.”
Alex ignored him, glanced once over her shoulder to make
sure the hallway was clear. She didn’t owe Tripp Helmuth an
excuse, and it would look weak to offer one. She pressed her
thumb into a barely visible notch in the paneling. The wall was
supposed to swing open smoothly, but it always stuck. She
gave it a hard nudge with her shoulder and stumbled as it
jolted open.
“Easy, killer,” said Tripp.
Alex shut the door behind her and edged down the narrow
passage in the dark.
Unfortunately, Tripp was right. The prognostication had
already begun. Alex entered the old operating theater as
quietly as she could.
The room was a windowless chamber, sandwiched between
the lecture hall and a classroom that grad students used for
discussion sections. It was a forgotten remnant of the old
medical school, which had held its classes here in SSS before
it moved to its own buildings. The managers of the trust that
funded Skull and Bones had sealed up the room’s entrance and
disguised it with new paneling sometime around All
facts Alex had gleaned from Lethe: A Legacy when she
probably should have been reading Nostromo.
No one spared Alex a glance. All eyes were on the
Haruspex, his lean face hidden behind a surgical mask, pale
blue robes spattered with blood. His latex-gloved hands moved
methodically through the bowels of the—patient? Subject?
Sacrifice? Alex wasn’t sure which term applied to the man on
the table. Not “sacrifice.” He’s supposed to live, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Ensuring Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen part of her job. She’d see him safely through this ordeal
and back to the hospital ward he’d been taken from. But what
about a year from now? she wondered. Five years from now?
Alex glanced at the man on the table: Michael Reyes. She’d
read his file two weeks ago, when he was selected for the
ritual. The flaps of his stomach were pinned back with steel
clips and his abdomen looked like it was blooming, a plump
pink orchid, plush and red at its center. Tell me that doesn’t
leave a mark. But she had her own future to worry about.
Reyes would manage.
Alex averted her eyes, tried to breathe through her nose as
her stomach roiled and coppery saliva flooded her mouth.
She’d seen plenty of bad injuries but always on the dead.
There was something much worse about a living wound, a
human body tethered to life by nothing but the steady metallic
beep of a monitor. She had candied ginger in her pocket for
nausea—one of Darlington’s tips—but she couldn’t quite bring
herself to take it out and unwrap it.
Instead, she focused 8Signs Firewall Remote Administration Tool 2.30 crack serial keygen gaze on some middle distance as
the Haruspex called out a series of numbers and letters—stock
symbols and share prices for companies traded publicly on the
New York Stock Exchange. Later in the night he’d move on to
the NASDAQ, Euronext, and the Asian markets. Alex didn’t
bother trying to decipher them. The orders to buy, sell, or hold
were given in impenetrable Dutch, the language of commerce,
the first stock exchange, old New York, and the official
language of the Bonesmen. When Skull and Bones was
founded, too many students knew Greek and Latin. Their
dealings had required something more obscure.
“Dutch is harder to pronounce,” Darlington had told her.
“Besides, it gives the Bonesmen an excuse to visit
Amsterdam.” Of course, Darlington knew Latin, Greek, and
Dutch. He also spoke French, Mandarin, and passable
Portuguese. Alex had just started Spanish II. Between the
classes she’d taken in grade school and her grandmother’s
mishmash of Ladino sayings, she’d thought it would be an
easy grade. She hadn’t counted on things like the subjunctive.
But Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen could just about ask if Gloria might like to go to the
discotheque tomorrow night.
A burst of muffled gunfire rattled through the wall from the
screening next door. The Haruspex looked up from the slick
pink mess of Michael Reyes’s small intestine, his irritation
apparent.
Scarface, Alex realized as the music swelled and a chorus
of rowdy voices thundered in unison, “You wanna fuck with
me? Okay. You wanna play rough?” The audience chanting
along like it was Rocky Horror. She must have seen Scarface a
hundred times. It was one of Len’s favorites. He was
predictable that way, loved everything hard—as if he’d mailed
away for a How to Be Gangster kit. When they’d met Hellie
near the Venice boardwalk, her golden hair like a parted
curtain for the theater of her big blue eyes, Alex had thought
instantly of Michelle Pfeiffer in her satin shift. All she’d been
missing was the smooth sheaf of bangs. But Alex didn’t want
to think about Hellie tonight, not with the stink of blood in the
air. Len and Hellie were her old life. They didn’t Windows 7 Ultimate Product Key + Crack 2021 [100% Working] at
Yale. Then again, neither did Alex.
Despite the memories, Alex was grateful for any noise that
would cover the wet sounds of the Haruspex pawing through
Michael Reyes’s gut. What did he see there? Darlington had
said the prognostications were no different than someone
reading the future in the cards of a tarot deck or a handful of
animal bones. But it sure looked different, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. And sounded more
specific. You’re missing someone. You will find happiness in
the new year. Those were the kinds of things fortune-tellers
said—vague, comforting.
Alex eyed the Bonesmen, robed and hooded, crowded
around the body on the table, the undergrad Scribe taking
down the predictions that would be passed on to hedge-fund
managers and private investors all over the world to keep the
Bonesmen and their alumni financially secure. Former
presidents, diplomats, at least one director of the CIA—all of
them Bonesmen. Alex thought of Tony Montana, soaking in
his hot tub, speechifying: You know what capitalism is? Alex
glanced at Michael Reyes’s prone body. Tony, you have no
idea.
She caught a flicker of movement from the benches that
overlooked the operating arena. The theater had two local
Grays who always sat in the same places, just a few rows
apart: a female mental patient who’d had her ovaries and
uterus removed in a hysterectomy infor which she
would have been paid six dollars if she’d survived the
procedure; and a male, a medical student. He’d frozen to death
in an opium den thousands of miles away, sometime around
, but kept returning here to sit in his old seat and look
down on whatever passed for life below. Prognostications only
happened in the theater four times a year, at the start of each
fiscal quarter, but that seemed to be enough to suit him.
Darlington liked to say that dealing with ghosts PyCharm 2021.3.3×64 Crack & License Keygen Latest Version Download like
riding the subway: Do not make eye contact. Do not smile. Do
not engage. Otherwise, you never know what might follow you
home. Easier said than done when the only other thing to look
at in the room was a man playing with another man’s innards
like they LizardSystems Find MAC Address Serial key 6.9.1 Build 249 - mah-jongg tiles.
She remembered Darlington’s shock when he’d realized she
could not Quicktime Pro 7.7.4 crack serial keygen see ghosts without the help of any potion or
spell but see them in color. He’d been weirdly furious. She’d
enjoyed that.
“What kinds of color?” he’d asked, sliding his feet off the
coffee table, his heavy black boots thunking on the slatted
floor of the parlor at Il Bastone.
“Just color. Like an old Polaroid. Why? What do you see?”
“They look gray,” he’d snapped. “That’s why they’re called
Grays.”
She’d shrugged, knowing her nonchalance would make
Darlington even angrier. “It isn’t a big deal.”
“Not to you,” he’d muttered, and stomped away. He’d spent
the rest of the day in the training room, working up a cranky
sweat.
She’d felt smug at the time, glad not everything came so
easily to him. But now, moving in a circle around the
perimeter of the theater, checking the little chalk markings
made at every compass point, she just felt jittery and
unprepared. That was the way she’d felt since she’d taken her
first step on campus. No, before that. From the time Dean
Sandow had sat down beside her hospital bed, tapped the
handcuffs on her wrist with his nicotine-stained fingers, and
said, “We are offering you an opportunity.” But that was the
old Alex. The Alex of Hellie and Len. Yale Alex had never
worn handcuffs, never gotten into a fight, never fucked a
stranger in a bathroom to make up her boyfriend’s vig. Yale
Alex struggled but didn’t complain. She was a good girl trying
to keep up.
And failing. She should have been here early to observe the
making of the signs and ensure the circle was secure. Grays as
old as the ones hovering on the tiered benches above didn’t
tend to make trouble even when drawn by blood, but
prognostications were big magic and her job was to verify that
the Bonesmen followed proper procedures, stayed cautious.
She was playacting, though. She’d spent the previous night
cramming, trying to memorize the correct signs and
proportions of chalk, charcoal, and bone. She’d made flash
cards, for fuck’s sake, and forced herself to shuffle through
them in between bouts of Joseph Conrad.
Alex thought the markings looked okay, but she knew her
signs of protection about as well as her modern British novels.
When she’d attended the fall-quarter prognostication with
Darlington, had she really paid attention? No. She’d been too
busy sucking on ginger candy, reeling from the strangeness of
it all, and praying she wouldn’t humiliate herself by puking.
She’d thought she had plenty of time to learn with Darlington
looking over her shoulder. But they’d both been wrong about
that.
“Voorhoofd!” the Haruspex called, and one of the
Bonesmen darted forward. Melinda? Miranda? Alex couldn’t
remember the redhead’s name, only that she was in an all-
female a cappella group called Whim ’n Rhythm. The girl
patted the Haruspex’s forehead with a white cloth and melted
back into the group.
Alex tried not to look at the man on the table, but her eyes
darted to his face anyway. Michael Reyes, age forty-eight,
diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic. Would Reyes remember
any of it when he woke? When he tried to tell someone would
they just call him crazy? Alex knew exactly what that was
like. It could be me on that table.
“The Bonesmen like them as nuts as possible,” Darlington
had told her. “They think it makes for better predictions.”
When she’d asked him why, he’d just said, “The crazier the
victima, the closer to God.”
“Is that true?”
“It is only through mystery and madness that the soul is
revealed,” he’d quoted. Then he’d shrugged. “Their bank
balances say yes.”
“And we’re okay with this?” Alex had asked Darlington.
“With people getting cut open so Chauncey can redecorate his
summer home?”
“Never met a Chauncey,” he’d said. “Still hoping.” Then
he’d paused, standing in the armory, his face grave. “Nothing
is going to stop this. Too many powerful people rely on what
the societies can do. Before Lethe existed, no one was keeping
watch. So you can make futile bleating noises in protest and
lose your scholarship, or you can stay here, do your job, and
do the most good you can.”
Even then, she’d wondered if that was only part of the
story, if Darlington’s desire to know everything bound him to
Lethe just as surely as any sense of duty. But she’d stayed
quiet then and she intended to stay quiet now.
Michael Reyes had been found in Dolby Atmos Windows 10,8.1,8,7 Cracked Free Download  2021 of the public beds at
Yale New Haven. Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen the outside world he looked like any
other patient: a vagrant, the type who passed through psych
wards and emergency rooms and jails, on his meds, then off.
He had a brother in New Jersey who was listed as his next of
kin and who had signed off on what was supposed to be a
routine medical procedure for the treatment of a scarred
bowel.
Reyes was cared for solely by a nurse named Jean Gatdula,
who’d worked three night shifts in a row. She didn’t blink or
cause a fuss when, through what appeared to be a scheduling
error, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen was slated for two more evenings in the ward. That
week her colleagues may or may not have noticed that she
always came to work with a huge handbag. In it was stowed a
little cooler that she used to carry Michael Reyes’s meals: a
dove’s heart for clarity, geranium root, and a dish of bitter
herbs. Gatdula had no idea what the food did or what fate
awaited Michael Reyes any more than she knew what became
of any of the “special” patients she tended to. She didn’t even
know whom she worked for, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, only that once every month she
received a much-needed check to offset the gambling debts her
husband racked up at the Foxwoods blackjack tables.
Alex wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if she really
could smell the ground parsley speckling Reyes’s insides, but
her own stomach gave another warning flutter. She was
desperate for fresh air, sweating beneath her layers. The
operating theater was kept ice cold, fed by vents separate from
the rest of the building, but the huge portable halogens used to
light the proceedings still radiated heat.
A low moan sounded. Alex’s gaze shot to Michael Reyes, a
terrible image flashing through her mind: Reyes waking to
find himself strapped to a table, surrounded by hooded figures,
his insides on the outside. But his eyes were closed, his chest
rising and falling in steady rhythm. The moan continued,
louder now. Maybe someone else was feeling Softros LAN Messenger Activation key Archives But none
of the Bonesmen looked distressed. Their faces glowed like
studious moons in the dim theater, eyes trained on the
proceedings.
Still the moan climbed, a low wind building, churning
through the room and bouncing off its dark-wood walls. No
direct eye contact, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, Alex warned herself. Just look to see if the
Grays—She choked back a startled grunt.
The Grays were no longer in their seats.
They leaned over the railing that surrounded the operating
theater, fingers gripping the wood, necks craned, their bodies
stretching Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen the very edge of the chalk circle like animals
straining to drink from the lip of a watering hole.
Don’t look. It was Darlington’s voice, his warning. Don’t
look too closely. It was too easy for a Gray to form a bond, to
attach itself to you. And it was more dangerous because she
already knew these Grays’ histories. They had been around so
long that generations of Lethe delegates had documented their
pasts. But their names had been redacted from all documents.
“If you don’t know a name,” Darlington had explained,
“you can’t think it, and then you won’t be tempted to say it.”
A name was a kind of intimacy.
Don’t look. But Darlington wasn’t here.
The female Gray was naked, her small breasts puckered
from the cold as they must have been in death. She lifted a
hand to the open wound of her belly, touched the flesh there
fondly, like a woman coyly indicating that she was expecting.
They hadn’t sewn her up. IVT BlueSoleil 10.0.498.0 With Crack Free Download [2021] boy—and he was a boy, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, skinny
and tender-featured—wore a sloppy bottle-green jacket and
stained trousers. Grays always appeared as they had in the
moment of death. But there was something obscene about
them side by side, one naked, the other clothed.
Every muscle in the Grays’ bodies strained, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, their eyes wide
and staring, their lips yawning open. The black holes of their
mouths were caverns, and from them that bleak keening rose,
not really a moan at all but something flat and inhuman. Alex
thought of the wasps’ nest she’d found in the garage beneath
her mother’s Studio City apartment one summer, the mindless
buzz of insects in a dark place.
The Haruspex kept reciting in Dutch. Another Bonesman
held a glass of water to the Scribe’s lips as he continued his
transcriptions. The smell of blood and herbs and shit hung
dense in the air.
The Grays arced forward inch by inch, trembling, lips
distended, their mouths too wide now, as if their jaws had
unhinged. The whole room seemed to vibrate.
But only Alex could see them.
That was why Lethe had brought her here, why Dean
Sandow had grudgingly made his golden offer to a girl in
handcuffs. Still, Alex looked around, hoping for someone else
to understand, for anyone to offer their help.
She took a step back, heart rabbiting in her chest. Grays
were docile, vague, especially Grays this old. At least Alex
thought they were. Was this one of the lessons Darlington
hadn’t gotten to yet?
She racked her brain for the few incantations Darlington
had taught her last semester, spells of protection. She could
use death words in a pinch. Would they work on Grays in this
state? She should have put salt in her pockets, caramels to
distract them, anything. Basic stuff, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, Darlington said in her
head. Easy to master.
The wood beneath the Grays’ fingers began to bend and
creak. Now the redheaded a cappella girl looked up,
wondering where the creaking had come from.
The wood was going to splinter. The signs must have been
made incorrectly; the circle of protection would not hold. Alex
looked right and left at the useless Bonesmen in their
ridiculous robes. If Darlington were here, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, he would stay and
fight, make sure the Grays were contained and Reyes was kept
safe.
The halogens dimmed, surged.
“Fuck you, Darlington,” Alex muttered beneath her breath,
already turning on her heel to run.
Boom.
The room shook. Alex stumbled. The Haruspex and the rest
of the Bonesmen looked at her, scowling.
Boom.
The sound of something knocking from the next world.
Something big. Something that should not be let through.
“Is our Dante drunk?” muttered the Haruspex.
Boom.
Alex opened her mouth to scream, to tell them to run before
whatever was holding that thing back gave way.
The moaning dropped away suddenly, completely, as if
stoppered in a bottle. The monitor beeped. The lights hummed.
The Grays were back in their seats, ignoring each other,
ignoring her.
Beneath her coat, Alex’s blouse clung wetly to her, soaked
through with sweat. She could smell her own sour fear thick
on her skin. The halogens still shone hot and white. The
theater pulsed heat like an organ suffused with blood. The
Bonesemen were staring. Next door, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, the credits rolled.
Alex could see the spot where the Grays had gripped the
railing, white slivers of wood splayed like corn silk.
“Sorry,” Alex said. She bent at the knees and vomited onto
the stone floor.
When they finally Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen up Michael Reyes, it was nearly
3 a.m. The Haruspex and most of the other Bonesmen had left
hours before to shower off the ritual and prepare for a party
that would last well past dawn.
The Haruspex might head directly back to New York in the
creamy leather seat of a black town car, or he might stay for
the festivities and take his pick of willing undergrad girls or
boys or both. She’d been told “attending to” the Haruspex was
considered an honor, and Alex supposed if you were high
enough and drunk enough, it might feel like that was the case,
but it sure sounded like being pimped out to the man who paid
the bills.
The redhead—Miranda, it turned out, “like in The
Tempest”—had helped Alex clean up the vomit. She’d been
genuinely nice about it and Alex had almost felt bad for not
remembering her name.
Reyes had been transported out of the building on a gurney,
cloaked in obfuscation veils that made him look like a bunch
of AV equipment piled beneath protective plastic sheeting. It
was the most risky part of the whole night’s endeavor as far as
the safety of the society went. Skull and Bones didn’t really
excel at anything other than prognostication, and of course the
members of Manuscript weren’t interested in sharing their
glamours with another society. The magic binding Reyes’s
veils wobbled with every bump, the gurney coming into and
out of focus, the blips and bleeps from the medical equipment
and the ventilator still audible. If anyone stopped to take a
close look at what was being wheeled down the hallway, the
Bonesmen would have some real trouble—though Alex
doubted it would be anything they couldn’t buy their way out
of.
She would check in on Reyes once he was back on the ward
and then again in a week to make sure he was healing without
complications. There had been casualties following
prognostications before, though only one since Lethe had been
founded in to monitor the societies. A group of
Bonesmen had accidentally killed a vagrant during a hastily
planned emergency reading after the stock-market crash of
Windows Archives - product key had been banned for the next four
years, and Bones had been threatened with the loss of its
massive red stone tomb on High Street. “That’s why we exist,”
Darlington had said as Alex turned the pages listing the names
of each victima and prognostication date in the Lethe records.
“We are the shepherds, Stern.”
But he’d cringed when Alex pointed to an inscription in one
of the margins of Lethe: A Legacy. “NMDH ?”
“No more dead hobos,” he’d said on a sigh.
So much for the noble mission of Lethe House, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Still Alex
couldn’t feel too superior tonight, not when she’d been
seconds from abandoning Michael Reyes to save her own ass.
Alex endured a long string of jokes about her spewed
dinner of grilled chicken and Twizzlers, and stayed at the
theater to make sure the remaining Bonesmen followed what
she hoped was proper procedure for sanitizing the space.
She promised herself she’d return later to sprinkle the
theater with bone dust. Reminders of death were the best way
to keep Grays at bay. It was why cemeteries were some of the
least haunted places in the world. She thought of the ghosts’
open mouths, that horrible drone of insects. Something had
been trying to slam its way into the chalk circle. At least that
was how it had seemed. Grays—ghosts—were harmless.
Mostly. It took a lot for them to take any kind of form in the
mortal world. And to pass through the final Veil? To become
physical, capable of touch? Capable of damage? They could.
Alex knew they could. But it was close to impossible.
Even so, there had been hundreds of prognostications in
this theater and she’d never heard of any Grays crossing over
into physical form or interfering. Why had their behavior
changed tonight?
If it had.
The greatest gift Lethe had given Alex was not the full ride
to Yale, the new start that had scrubbed her past clean like a
chemical burn. It was the knowledge, the certainty, that the
things she saw were real and always had been. But she’d lived
too long wondering if she was crazy to stop now. Darlington
would have believed her. He always had. Except Darlington
was gone.
Not for good, she told herself. In a week the new moon
would rise and they would bring him home.
Alex touched her fingers to the cracked railing, already
thinking about how to phrase her description of the
prognostication for the Lethe House records. Dean Sandow
reviewed all of them, and she wasn’t anxious to draw his
attention to anything out of the ordinary, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Besides, if you set
aside a helpless man having his guts rearranged, nothing bad
had actually happened.
When Alex emerged from the passage into the hallway,
Tripp Helmuth startled from his slouch. “They almost done in
there?”
Alex nodded and took a deep breath of comparatively fresh
air, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, eager to get outside.
“Pretty gross, huh?” Tripp asked with a smirk. “If you want
I can slip you some of the tips when they get transcribed. Take
the edge off those student loans.”
“What the fuck would you know about student loans?” The
words were out before she could stop them. Darlington would
not approve. Alex was supposed to remain civil, distant,
diplomatic. And anyway, she was a hypocrite. Lethe had made
sure she would graduate without a cloud of debt hanging over
her—if she actually made it through four years of exams and
papers and nights like these.
Tripp held his hands up in surrender, laughing uneasily.
“Hey, just tryin’ to get by.” Tripp was on the sailing team, a
third-generation Bonesman, a gentleman and a scholar, a
purebred golden retriever—dopey, glossy, and expensive. He
was rumpled and rosy as a healthy infant, his hair sandy, his
skin still tan from whichever island he’d spent winter break
on. He had the ease of someone who had always been and
would always be just fine, a boy of a thousand second chances.
“We good?” he asked eagerly.
“We’re good,” she said, though she was not good at all. She
could still feel the reverberation of that buzzing moan filling
up her lungs, rattling the inside of her skull. “Just stuffy in
there.”
“Right?” Tripp said, ready to be pals. “Maybe getting stuck
out here all night’s not so bad.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“What happened to your arm?” Alex could see a bit of
bandage peeking out from Tripp’s windbreaker.
He shoved the sleeve up, revealing a patch of greasy
cellophane taped over the inside of his forearm. “A bunch of
us got tattoos today.”
Alex looked closer: a strutting bulldog bursting through a
big blue Y. The dudebro equivalent of best friends forevah!
“Nice,” she lied.
“You got any ink?” His sleepy eyes roved over her, trying
to peel back the winter layers, no different than the losers who
had hung around Ground Zero, fingers brushing her clavicle,
her biceps, tracing the shapes there. So what does this one
mean?
“Nope. Not my thing.” Alex wrapped her scarf around her
neck. “I’ll check in on Reyes on the ward tomorrow.”
“Huh? Oh, right. Good. Where’s Darlington anyway? He
already sticking you with the shit jobs?”
Tripp tolerated Alex, tried to be friendly with her because
he wanted his belly rubbed by everyone he encountered, but he
genuinely liked Darlington.
“Spain,” she said, because that was what she’d been
instructed to say.
“Nice. Tell him buenos días.”
If Alex could have told Darlington anything, it would have
been, Come back. She would have said it in English and
Spanish. She would have used the imperative.
“Adiós,” she said to Tripp. “Enjoy the party.”
Once she was clear of the building, Alex yanked off her
gloves and unwrapped two sticky ginger candies, shoving
them into her mouth. She was tired of thinking about
Darlington, but the smell of the ginger, the heat it created at
the back of her throat, brought him even more brightly alive.
She saw his long body sprawled in front of the great stone
fireplace at Black Elm. He’d taken his boots off, left his socks
to dry on the hearth. He was on his back, eyes closed, head
resting in the cradle of his arms, toes wiggling in time to the
music floating around the room, something classical Alex
didn’t know, dense with French horns that left emphatic
crescents of sound in the air.
Alex had been on the floor beside him, arms clasped around
her knees, back pressed against the base of an old sofa, trying
to seem relaxed and to stop staring at his feet, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. They just looked
so naked. He’d cuffed his black jeans up, keeping the damp off
his skin, and those slender white feet, hair dusting the toes,
had made her feel a little obscene, like some sepia-toned
pervert driven mad by a glimpse of ankle.
Fuck you, Darlington. She yanked her gloves back on.
For a moment she stood paralyzed. She should get back to
Lethe House and write up her report for Dean Sandow to
review, but what she really wanted was to flop down on the
narrow bottom bunk of the room she shared with Mercy and
cram in all the sleep she could before class. At this hour, she
wouldn’t have to make any excuses to curious roommates. But
if she slept at Lethe, Mercy and Lauren would be clamoring to
know where and with whom she’d spent the night.
Darlington had suggested making up a boyfriend to justify
her long absences and late nights.
“If I do that, at some point I’ll have to produce a boy-
shaped human to gaze at me adoringly,” Alex had replied in
frustration. “How have you gotten away with this for the last
three years?”
Darlington had just shrugged. “My roommates figured I
was a player.” If Alex’s eyes had rolled back in her head any
farther, she would have been facing the opposite direction.
“All right, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, all right. I told them I was in a band with some
UConn guys and that we played out a lot.”
“Do you even play an instrument?”
“Of course.”
Cello, upright bass, guitar, piano, and something called an
oud.
Hopefully, Mercy would be fast asleep when Alex got back
to the room and she could slip inside to retrieve her basket of
shower things and head down the hall without notice. It would
be tricky. Anytime you tampered with the Veil between this
world and the next, it left a stink that was something like the
electrical crackle of ozone after a storm coupled with the rot of
a pumpkin left too long on a windowsill. The first time she’d
made the mistake of returning to the suite without showering,
she’d actually had to lie about slipping in a pile of garbage to
explain it. Mercy and Lauren had laughed about it for weeks.
Alex thought of the grimy shower waiting at her dorm …
and then of sinking into the vast old claw-foot tub in Il
Bastone’s spotless bathroom, the four-poster bed so high she
had to hoist herself onto it. Supposedly Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen had safe houses
and hidey-holes all over the Yale campus, but the two Alex
had been introduced to were the Hutch and Il Bastone. The
Hutch was closer to Alex’s dorm and most of her classes, but it
was just a shabby, comfortable set of rooms above a clothing
store, always stocked with bags of chips and Darlington’s
protein bars, a place to stop in and take a quick nap on the
badly sprung couch. Il Bastone was something special: a three-
story mansion nearly a mile from the heart of campus that
served as Lethe’s main headquarters. Oculus would be waiting
there tonight, the lamps lit, with a tray of tea, brandy, and
sandwiches. It was tradition, even if Alex didn’t show up to
enjoy them. But the price of all that luxury would be dealing
with Oculus, and she just couldn’t handle Dawes’s clenched-
jaw silences tonight. Better to return to the dorms with the
stink of the night’s work on her.
Alex crossed the street and cut back through the rotunda. It
was hard not to keep looking behind Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, thinking of the Grays
standing at the edge of the circle with their mouths stretched
too wide, black IVT BlueSoleil 10.0.498.0 With Crack Free Download [2021] humming that low insect sound. What
would have happened if that railing had broken, if the chalk
circle hadn’t held? What had provoked them? Would she have
had the strength or the knowledge to hold them off? Pasa
punto, pasa mundo.
Alex pulled her coat tighter, tucking her face into her scarf,
her breath humid against the wool, hurrying back past
Beinecke Library.
“If you get locked in there during a fire, all of the oxygen
gets sucked out,” Lauren had claimed. “To protect the books.”
Alex knew that was bullshit. Darlington had told her so.
He’d known the truth of the building, all of its faces, that it
had been built to the Platonic ideal (the building was a
temple), employing the same ratios used by some typesetters
for their pages (the building was a book), that its marble had
been quarried in Vermont (the building was a monument). The
entrance had been created so that only one person was
permitted to enter at a time, passing through the rotating door
like a supplicant. She remembered Darlington pulling on the
white gloves worn to handle rare manuscripts, his long fingers
resting reverently on the page. It was the same way Len
handled cash.
There was a room in Beinecke, hidden on … she couldn’t
remember which floor. And even if she could have she
wouldn’t have gone. She didn’t have the balls to descend into
the patio, touch her fingers to the window in the secret pattern,
enter in the dark. This place had been dear to Darlington.
There was no place Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen Ardarium Free Download. There was no place on
campus she felt more like a fraud.
Alex reached for her phone to check the time, hoping it
wasn’t much past three. If she could get washed up and into
bed by four, she’d still be able to get three and a half solid
hours before she had to be up and across campus again for
Spanish. This was the math she ran every night, every
moment. How much time to try to get the work done? How
much time to rest? She could never quite make the numbers
work. She was just scraping by, stretching the budget, always
coming up a little short, and the panic clung to her, dogging
her steps.
Alex looked at the glowing screen and swore. It was
flooded with messages. She’d put the phone on silent for the
prognostication and forgotten to switch it back on.
The texts were all from the same person: Oculus, Pamela
Dawes, the grad student who maintained the Lethe residences
and served as their research assistant. Pammie, though only
Darlington called her that.
Call in.
Call in.
Call in.
The texts were all timed exactly fifteen minutes apart.
Either Dawes was following some kind of protocol or she was
even more uptight than Alex had thought.
Alex considered just ignoring the messages. But it was a
Thursday night, the night the societies met, and that meant that
some little shit had gotten up to something bad, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. For all she
knew, the shapeshifting idiots at Wolf’s Head had turned
themselves into a herd of buffalo and trampled a bunch of
students coming out of Branford.
She stepped behind one of the columns supporting the
Beinecke cube to shelter from the wind and dialed.
Dawes picked up on the first ring. “Oculus speaking.”
“Dante replies,” Alex said, feeling like a jackass. She was
Dante. Darlington was Virgil. That was the way Lethe was
supposed to work until Alex made it to her senior year and
took on the title of Virgil to mentor an incoming freshman.
She’d nodded and matched Darlington’s small smile when
he’d told her their code names—he’d referred to them as
“offices”—pretending she got the joke. Later, she’d looked
them up and discovered that Virgil had been Dante’s guide as
he descended into hell. More Lethe House humor wasted on
her.
“There’s a body at Payne Whitney,” said Dawes.
“Centurion is on site.”
“A body,” Alex repeated, wondering if fatigue had
damaged her ability to understand basic human speech.
“Yes.”
“Like a dead body?”
“Ye-es.” Dawes was clearly trying to sound calm, but her
breath caught, turning the single syllable into a musical
hiccup.
Alex pressed her back against the column, the cold of the
stone seeping through her coat, and felt a stab of angry
adrenaline spike through her.
Are you messing with me? That was what she wanted to
ask. That was what this felt like. Being fucked with. Being the
weird kid who talked to herself, who was so desperate for
friends she agreed when Sarah McKinney pleaded, “Can you
meet me at Tres Muchachos after school? I want to see if you
can talk to my grandma. We used to go there a lot and I miss
her so much.” The kid who stood outside the shittiest Mexican
restaurant in the shittiest food court in the Valley by herself
until she had to call her mom to ask her to pick her up because
no one was coming. Of course no one was coming.
This is real, she reminded herself. And Pamela Dawes was
a lot of things but she wasn’t a Sarah McKinney-style asshole.
Which meant someone was dead.
And she was supposed to do something about it?
“Uh, was it an accident?”
“Possible homicide.” Dawes sounded like she’d been
waiting for just this question.
“Okay,” Alex said, because she had no idea what else to
say.
“Okay,” Dawes replied awkwardly. She’d delivered her big
line and now she was ready to get offstage.
Alex hung up and stood in the bleak, windswept silence of
the empty plaza. She’d forgotten at least half of what
Darlington had tried to teach her before he’d vanished, but he
definitely hadn’t covered murder.
She didn’t know why. If you were going to hell together,
murder seemed like a good place to start.
2

Last Fall

Daniel Arlington prided himself on being prepared for


anything, but if he’d had to choose a way to describe Alex
Stern, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen would have been “an unwelcome surprise.” He could
think of a lot of other terms for her, but none of them were
polite, and Darlington always endeavored to be polite. If he’d
been brought up by his parents—his dilettante father, his glib
but brilliant mother—he might have had different priorities,
but he’d been raised by his grandfather, Daniel Tabor
Arlington III, who believed Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen most problems could be
solved with cask-strength scotch, plenty of ice, and
impeccable manners.
His grandfather had never met Galaxy Stern.
Darlington sought out Alex’s first-floor Vanderbilt dorm
room on a sweating, miserable day in the first week of
September. He could have waited for her to report to the house
on Orange, but when he was a freshman, his own mentor, the
inimitable Michelle Alameddine, who had served as his Virgil,
had welcomed him to Yale and the mysteries of Lethe House
by Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen to meet him at the Old Campus freshman dorms.
Darlington was determined to do things right, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, even if
everything about the Stern situation had started out wrong.
He hadn’t chosen Galaxy Stern as his Dante. In fact, she
had, by sheer virtue of her existence, robbed him of something
he’d been looking forward to for the entirety of his three-year
tenure with Lethe: the moment when he would gift someone
new with the job he loved, when he’d crack the ordinary world
open for some worthy Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen barely suspecting soul. Only a few
months before, he’d unloaded the boxes full of incoming
freshman applications and stacked them in the great room at
Black Elm, giddy with excitement, determined to read or at
least skim through all eighteen hundred-plus files before he
made his recommendations to the Lethe House alumni. He
would be fair, open-minded, and thorough, and in the end he
would choose twenty candidates for the role of Dante. Then
Lethe would vet their backgrounds, check for health 2M Arcade Bubbles 1.7 crack serial keygen of mental illness, and financial vulnerabilities, and a
final decision would be made.
Darlington had created a plan for how many applications
he’d have to tackle each day that would still free his mornings
for work on the estate and his afternoons for his job at the
Peabody Museum. He’d been ahead of schedule that day in
July—on application number Mackenzie Hoffer,
verbal, math; nine APs her junior year; blog on the
Bayeux Tapestry maintained in both English and French.
She’d seemed promising until he’d gotten to her personal
essay, in which she’d compared herself to Emily Dickinson.
Darlington had just tossed her folder onto the no pile when
Dean Sandow called to tell him their search was over. They’d
found their candidate. The alumni were unanimous.
Darlington had wanted to protest. Hell, he’d wanted to
break something. Instead, he’d straightened the stack of
folders before him and said, “Who is it? I have all of the files
right here.”
“You don’t have her file. She never applied. She didn’t
even finish high school.” Before Darlington could sputter his
indignation, Sandow added, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, “Daniel, she can see Grays.”
Darlington had paused, his hand still atop Mackenzie
Hoffer (two summers with Habitat for Humanity). It wasn’t
just the sound of his Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen name, something Sandow rarely
used. She can see Grays. The only way for one of the living to
see the dead was by ingesting the Orozcerio, an elixir of
infinite complexity that required perfect skill and attention to
detail to create. He’d attempted it himself when he was
seventeen, before he’d ever heard of Lethe, when he’d only
hoped there might be more to this world than he’d been led to
believe. His efforts had landed him in the ER and he’d
hemorrhaged blood from his ears and eyes for two days.
“She managed to brew an elixir?” he said, both thrilled and
—he could admit it—a little jealous.
Silence followed, long enough for Darlington to switch off
the light on his grandfather’s desk and walk out to the back
porch of Black Elm. From here he could see the gentle slope
of houses leading down Edgewood to campus and, far beyond,
the Long Island Sound. All of the land down to Central
Avenue had once been a part of Black Elm but had been sold
off in bits and pieces as the Arlington fortune dwindled. The
house, its rose gardens, and the ruined mess of the maze at the
edge of the wood were all that remained—and only he
remained to tend and prune and coddle it back to life. Dusk
was falling now, a long, slow summer twilight, thick with
mosquitoes and the glint of fireflies. He could see the question
mark of Cosmo’s white tail as the cat wended his way through
the high grass, stalking some small creature.
“No elixir,” said Sandow. “She can just see them.”
“Ah,” said Darlington, watching a thrush peck half-
heartedly at the broken base of what had once been the obelisk
fountain. There was nothing else to say. Though Lethe had
been created to monitor the activities of Yale’s secret societies,
its secondary mission was to unravel the mysteries of what lay
beyond the Veil. For years they had documented stories of
people who could actually see phantoms, some confirmed,
some little more than rumor, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. So if the board had found a girl
who could do these things and they could make her beholden
to them … Well, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, that was that. He should be glad to meet her.
He wanted to get drunk.
“I’m not any happier about this than you are,” said Sandow.
“But you know the position we’re in. This is an important year
for Lethe. We need everyone happy.” Lethe was responsible
for keeping watch over the Houses of the Veil, but it also
relied on them for funding. This was a re-up year and the
societies had gone so long without an incident, there were
rumblings that perhaps they shouldn’t dip into their coffers to
continue supporting Lethe at all. “I’ll send you her files. She’s
not … She’s not the Dante we might have hoped for, but try to
keep an open mind.”
“Of course,” said Darlington, because that was what a
gentleman did, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. “Of course I will.”
He’d tried to mean it. Even after he read her file, even after
he’d watched the interview between her and Sandow recorded
at a hospital in Van Nuys, California, heard the husky, broken
woodwind sound of her voice, he’d tried. She’d been found
naked and comatose at a crime scene, next to a girl who hadn’t
been lucky enough to survive the fentanyl they’d both taken.
The details of it were all more sordid and sad than he could
have fathomed, and he’d tried to feel sorry for her. His Dante,
the girl he would gift with the keys to a secret world, was a
criminal, a drug user, a dropout who cared about none of the
things he did. But he’d tried.
And still nothing had prepared him for the shock of her
presence in that shabby Vanderbilt common room. The room
was small but high-ceilinged, with three tall windows that
looked out onto the horseshoe-shaped courtyard and two
narrow doors leading to the bedrooms. The space eddied with
the easy chaos of a freshman year move-in: boxes on the floor,
no proper furniture to be seen but a wobbly lamp and a
battered recliner pushed up against Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen long-since-functional
fireplace. A muscular blonde in running shorts—Lauren, he
guessed (likely pre-med, solid test scores, field-hockey captain
at her Philadelphia prep school)—was setting up a faux-
vintage turntable on the ledge of the window seat, a plastic
crate of records balanced beside it. The recliner was probably
hers too, carted along in a moving truck from Bucks County to
New Haven. Anna Breen (Huntsville, Texas; STEM
scholarship; choir leader) sat on the floor trying to assemble
what looked like a bookshelf. This was a girl who would never
quite fit. She’d end up in a singing group or maybe get heavily
into her church. She definitely wouldn’t be partying with her
other roommates.
Then the other two girls shuffled out of one of the
bedrooms, awkwardly hefting a banged-up university-issued
desk between them.
“Do you have to put that out here?” asked Anna glumly.
“We need more space,” said a girl in a flowered sundress
Darlington knew was Mercy Zhao (piano; math,
verbal; prizewinning essays on Rabelais and a bizarre but
compelling comparison of a passage in The Sound and the
Fury to a bit about a pear tree in The Canterbury Tales that
had garnered the notice of both the Yale and Princeton English
departments).
And then Galaxy Stern (no high school diploma, no GED,
no achievements to speak of other than surviving her own
misery) emerged from the dark nook of the bedroom, dressed
in a long-sleeved shirt and black jeans totally inappropriate to
the heat and balancing one end of the desk in her skinny arms.
The low quality of Sandow’s video had caught the slick,
straight sheaves of her black hair but not the severe precision
of her center part, the hollow quality of her eyes but not the
deep inkblot of their color. She looked malnourished, her
clavicles sharp as exclamation points beneath the fabric of her
shirt. She was too sleek, almost damp, less Undine rising from
the waters than a dagger-toothed rusalka.
Or maybe she just needed a snack and a long nap.
All right, Stern. Let’s begin.
Darlington rapped on the door, stepped into the room,
smiled big, bright, welcoming, as they set the desk down in the
common room corner. “Alex! Your mom told me I should
check in on you. It’s me, Darlington.”
For a brief moment she looked utterly lost, even panicked,
then she matched his smile. “Hey! I didn’t recognize you.”
Good. She was adaptable.
“Introductions, please,” said Lauren, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, her gaze interested,
assessing. She’d pulled a copy of Queen’s A Day at the Races
from the crate.
He extended his hand. “I’m Darlington, Alex’s cousin.”
“Are you in JE too?” Lauren asked.
Darlington remembered that unearned sense of loyalty. At
the start of the year, all the incoming freshmen were sorted
into residential colleges where they would eat most of their
meals and where they would eventually sleep when they left
Old Campus behind as sophomores. They would buy scarves
striped in their residential college colors, learn the college’s
chants and mottos. Alex belonged to Lethe, just as Darlington
had, but she’d been assigned to Jonathan Edwards, named for
the fire and brimstone preacher.
“I’m in Davenport,” Darlington said. “But I don’t live on
campus.” He’d liked living in Davenport—the dining hall, the
big grassy courtyard. But he didn’t like Black Elm sitting
empty, and the money he’d saved on his room and board had
been enough to fix the water damage he’d found in the
ballroom last spring. Besides, Cosmo liked the company.
“Do you have a car?” asked Lauren.
Mercy laughed. “Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.”
Lauren shrugged. “How else are we going to get to Ikea?
We need a couch.” She would be the leader of this crew, the
one who’d suggest which parties to go to, who’d have them
host a room for Liquor Treat at Halloween.
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile. “I can’t drive
you. At least not today.” Or any day. “And I need to steal Alex
away.”
Alex wiped her palms on her jeans. “We’re trying to get
settled,” she said hesitantly, hopefully even. He could see
circles of sweat blooming beneath her arms.
“You made a promise,” he said with a wink. “And you
know how my mom gets about family stuff.”
He saw a flash of rebellion in her oil-slick eyes, but all she
said was, “Okay.”
“Can you give us cash for the couch?” Lauren asked Alex,
roughly shoving the Queen record back into the crate. He
hoped it wasn’t the original vinyl.
“You bet,” said Alex. She turned to Darlington. “Aunt
Eileen said she’d spring for a new couch, right?”
Darlington’s mother’s name was Harper, and he doubted
she even knew the word Ikea. “Did she really?”
Alex crossed her arms. “Yup.”
Darlington took his wallet from his back pocket and peeled
off three hundred dollars in cash. He handed it to Alex, who
passed it to Lauren. “Make sure you write her a thank-you
note,” he said.
“Oh, I will,” said Alex. “I know she’s a real stickler for that
kind of thing.”
When they were striding across the lawns of Old Campus,
the red-brick towers and crenellations of Vanderbilt behind
them, Darlington said, “You owe me three hundred dollars.
I’m not buying you a couch.”
“You can afford it,” Alex said coolly. “I’m guessing you
come from the good side of the family, cuz.”
“You needed cover for why you’re going to be off seeing
me so much.”
“Bullshit. You were testing me.”
“It’s my job to test you.”
“I thought it was your job to teach me. That’s not the same
thing.”
At least she wasn’t Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. “Fair enough. But visits to dear
Aunt Eileen can cover a few of your late nights.”
“How late are we talking about?”
He could hear the worry in her voice. Was it caution or
laziness? “How much did Dean Sandow tell you?”
“Not much.” She pulled the fabric of her shirt away from
her stomach, trying to cool herself.
“Why are you dressed like that?” He hadn’t meant to ask
but she looked uncomfortable—her black Henley buttoned to
the neck, sweat spreading in dark rings from her armpits—and
completely out of place. A girl who managed lies so smoothly
should have a better sense of protective cover.
Alex just slid him a sideways look. “I’m very modest.”
Darlington had no reply to that, so he pointed to one of the two
identical red-brick buildings bracketing the path, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. “This is the
oldest building on campus.”
“It doesn’t look old.”
Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen been well maintained. It almost didn’t make it, though.
People thought it ruined the look of Old Campus, so they
wanted to knock it down.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“The books credit a preservation campaign, but the truth is
Lethe discovered the building was lode-bearing.”
“Huh?”
“Spiritually lode-bearing. It was part of an old binding
ritual to keep the campus safe.” They turned right, down a path
that would lead them toward the ersatz-Medieval portcullis of
Phelps Gate. “That’s what the whole college used to look like.
Little buildings of red bricks. Colonial. A lot like Harvard.
Then after the Civil War, the walls went up. Now most of the
campus is built that way, a series of fortresses, walled and
gated, a castle keep.”
Old Campus was a perfect example, a massive quadrangle
of towering stone dorms surrounding a huge sun-dappled
courtyard welcome to all—until night fell and the gates
banged shut.
“Why?” Alex asked.
“To keep the rabble out. The soldiers came back to New
Haven from the war wild, most of them unmarried, a lot of
them messed up from the fighting. There was a wave of
immigration too. Irish, Italians, freed slaves, everyone looking
for manufacturing jobs. Yale didn’t want any of it.”
Alex laughed.
“Is something funny?” he asked.
She glanced back at her dorm. “Mercy’s Chinese. A
Nigerian girl lives next door. Then there’s my mongrel ass. We
all got in anyway. Eventually.”
“A long slow siege.” The word mongrel felt like dangerous
bait. He took in her black hair, her black eyes, the olive cast to
her skin. She might have been Greek. Mexican. White.
“Jewish mother, no mention of a father, but I assume you had
one?”
“Never knew him.”
There was more here but he wasn’t going to push. “We all
have spaces we keep blank.” They’d reached Phelps Gate, the
big echoing archway that led onto College Street and away
from the relative safety of Old Campus. He didn’t want to get
sidetracked. They had too much literal and figurative ground
to cover. “This is the New Haven Green,” he said, as they
strode down one of the stone paths. “When the colony was
founded, this was where they built their meetinghouse. The
town was meant to be a new Eden, founded between two
rivers like the Tigris and the Euphrates.”
Alex frowned. “Why so many churches?”
There were three on the green, two of them near-twins in
their Federal design, the third a jewel of Gothic Revival.
“This town has a church for nearly every block. Or it used
to. Some of them are closing now. People just don’t go.”
“Do you?” she asked.
Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen you?”
“Nope.”
“Yes, I go,” he said. “It’s a family thing.” He saw the
flicker of judgment in her eyes, but he didn’t need to explain.
Church on Sunday, work on Monday. That was the Arlington
way. When Darlington had turned thirteen and protested that
he’d be happy to risk God’s wrath if he could just sleep in, his
grandfather seized him by the ear and dragged him out of bed
despite his eighty years. “I don’t care what you believe,” he’d
said. “The working man believes in God and expects us to do
the same, so you will get your ass dressed and in a pew or I
will tan it raw.” Darlington had gone. And after his
grandfather had died, he’d kept going.
“The green is the site of the city’s first church and its first
graveyard. It’s a source of tremendous power.”
“Yeah … no shit.”
He realized her shoulders had gone loose and easy. Her
stride had changed. She looked a little less like someone
gearing up to take a swing.
Darlington tried not to sound too eager. “What do you see?”
She didn’t answer. “I know about what you can Car Mechanic Simulator 2021 Cracked PC [RePack]. It isn’t a
secret.”
Alex’s gaze was still distant, almost disinterested. “It’s
empty here, that’s all. I never really see much around
cemeteries and stuff.”
And stuff. Darlington looked around, but all he saw was
what everyone else would: students, people who worked at the
courthouse or the string of shops along Chapel, enjoying Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen on their lunch hour.
He knew the paths that seemed to bisect the green
arbitrarily had been drawn by a group of Freemasons to try to
appease and contain the dead when the cemetery had been
moved a few blocks away. He knew that their compass lines—
or a pentagram, depending on whom you asked—could be
seen from above. He knew the spot where the Lincoln Oak had
toppled after Hurricane Sandy, revealing a human skeleton
tangled in its roots, one of the many bodies never moved to
Grove Street Cemetery. He saw the city differently because he
knew it, and his knowledge was not casual, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. It was adoration.
But no amount of love could make him see Grays. Not without
Orozcerio, another hit from the Golden Bowl. He shuddered.
Every time was a risk, another chance that his body would say
enough, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, that one of his kidneys would simply fail.
“It makes sense you don’t see them here,” he said. “Certain
things will draw them to graveyards and cemeteries, but as a
rule, they steer clear.”
Now he had her attention. Real interest sparked in her eyes,
the first indication of something beyond watchful reserve.
“Why?”
“Grays love life and anything that reminds them of being
alive. Salt, sugar, sweat. Fighting and fucking, tears and blood
and human drama.”
“I thought salt kept them out.”
Darlington raised a brow. “Did you see that on television?”
“Would it make you happier if I say I learned it from an
ancient book?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Too bad.”
“Salt is a Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen he said, as they crossed Temple Street,
“so it’s good for banishing demons—though to my great
sorrow I’ve never personally had the honor. But when it comes
to Grays, making a salt circle is the equivalent of leaving Midiculous pro keygen,serial,crack,generator,unlock salt
lick for deer.”
“So what Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen them out?”
Her need crackled through the words. So this was where
her interest lay.
“Bone dust. Graveyard dirt. The leavings of crematory ash.
Memento mori.” He glanced at her. “Any Latin?” She shook
her head. Of course not. “They hate reminders of death. If you
want to Gray-proof your room, hang a Holbein print.” He’d
meant it as a joke, but he could see she was chewing on what
he’d said, committing the artist’s name to memory, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Darlington
felt an acute twinge of guilt that he did not enjoy. He’d been so
busy envying this girl’s ability, he hadn’t considered what it
might be like if you could never close the door on the dead. “I
can ward your room,” he said by way of penance. “Your whole
dorm if you like.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes,” he said. “And I can show you how to do it too.”
“Tell me the rest,” said Alex. Away from the dim cavern of
the dorms, sweat had formed in a slick sheen over her nose
and forehead, gathering in the divot above her upper lip. She
was going to soak that shirt, and he could see she was self-
conscious about it by the way she held her arms rigidly to her
sides.
“Did you read The Life of Lethe?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“I skimmed it.”
“Read it,” he said. “I’ve made you a list of other material
that will help get you up to speed. Mostly histories of New
Haven and our own compiled history of the societies.”
Alex gave a sharp shake of her head. “I mean tell me what
I’m in for here … with you.”
That was a hard question to answer. Nothing. Everything.
Lethe was meant to be a gift, but could it be to her? There was
too much to tell.
They left the green and he saw tension snap back into her
shoulders, though there was still nothing his eyes could see to
warrant it. They passed the row of banks clustered along Elm,
looming over Kebabian’s, the little red rug store that had
somehow thrived in New Haven for over one hundred years,
then turned left up Orange. They were only a few blocks from
campus proper now, but it felt like miles. The bustle of student
life vanished, as if stepping into the city was like falling off a
cliff. The streets were a mess of new and old: gently weathered
townhouses, barren parking lots, a carefully restored concert
hall, the gargantuan high rise of the Housing Authority.
“Why here?” Alex asked when Darlington didn’t answer
her previous question. “What is it about this place that draws
them?”
The short answer was Who knows? But Darlington doubted
that would cast him or Lethe in the most credible light.
“In the early eighteen hundreds, magic was moving from
the old world to the new, leaving Europe along with its
practitioners. They needed someplace to store their knowledge
and preserve its practices. No one’s certain why New Haven
worked. They tried in other places too,” Darlington said with
some pride. “Cambridge. Princeton. New Haven was where
the magic caught and held and took root. Some people think
it’s because the Veil is thinner here, easier to pierce. You can
see why Lethe is happy to have you on board.” At least, some
of Lethe. “You may be able to offer us answers. There are
Grays that have been here far longer than the university.”
“And these practitioners thought it would be smart to teach
all this magic to a bunch of college kids?”
“Contact with the uncanny takes a toll. The older you get,
the harder it is to endure that contact. So each year, the
societies replenish the supply with a new tap, a new
delegation. Magic is quite literally a dying art, and New Haven
is one of the few places in the world where it can still be
brought to life.”
She said nothing. Was she scared? Good. Maybe she would
actually read the books he assigned instead of skimming them.
“There are over a hundred societies at Yale at this point, but
we don’t concern ourselves with most of them. They get
together for dinners, tell their life stories, do a little
community service. It’s the Ancient Eight that matter. The
landed societies. The Houses of the Veil. They’re the ones that
have held their tombs continuously.”
“Tombs?”
ZModeler 3.1.5 Build 1167 crack serial keygen betting you’ve already seen some of them.
Clubhouses, though they look more like mausoleums.”
“Why don’t we care about the other societies?” she asked.
“We care about power, and power is linked to place. Each
of the Houses of the Veil grew up around a branch of the
arcane and is devoted to studying it, and each built their tomb
over a nexus of power, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Except for Berzelius, and no one cares
about Berzelius.” They’d founded their society in direct
response to the growing magical presence in New Haven,
claiming the other Houses were charlatans and superstitious
dilettantes, dedicating themselves to investments in new
technologies and the philosophy that the only true magic was
science. They’d managed to survive the stock market crash of
without the help of prognostication, and limped along
until the crash of when they’d been all but wiped out. As
it happened, the only true magic was magic.
“A nexus,” Alex repeated. “They’re all over campus? The
… nexes—”
“Nexuses. Think of magic like a river. The nexuses are
where the power eddies, and it’s what allows the societies’
rituals to function successfully. We’ve mapped twelve in the
city. Tombs have been built on eight of them. The others are
on sites where structures already exist, like the train station,
and where it would be impossible to build. A few societies
have lost their tombs over time. They can study all they want.
Once that connection is broken, they don’t accomplish much.”
“And you’re telling me this has all been going on for more
than a hundred years and no one has Eassos Recovery 4.3.3.352 Crack Archives it out?”
“The Ancient Eight have yielded some of the most
powerful men and women in the world. People who literally
steer governments, the wealth of nations, who forge the shape
of culture. They’ve run everything from the United Nations to
Congress to The New York Times to the World Bank. They’ve
fixed nearly every World Series, six Super Bowls, the
Academy Awards, and at least one presidential election.
Hundreds of websites are dedicated to unraveling their
connections to the Freemasons, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, the Illuminati, the Bilderberg
Group—the list goes on.”
“Maybe if they met at Denny’s instead of giant
mausoleums, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, they wouldn’t have to worry about that.”
They had arrived at Il Bastone, Lethe House, three stories
of red brick and stained glass, built by John Anderson in
for an outrageous sum and then abandoned barely a year later.
He’d claimed he was being chased out by the city’s high tax
rates. Lethe’s records told a different story, one that involved
his father and the ghost of a dead cigar girl. Il Bastone didn’t
sprawl like Black Elm. It was a city house, bracketed closely
on both sides by other properties, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, tall but contained in its
grandeur.
“They’re not worried,” said Darlington. “They welcome all
of the conspiracy theories and tinfoil-hat-wearing loons.”
“Because they like feeling interesting?”
“Because what they’re really doing is so much worse.”
Darlington pushed open the black wrought-iron gate and saw
the porch of the old house straighten slightly, as if in
anticipation. “After you.”
As soon as the gate shut, darkness enveloped them. From
somewhere beneath the house, a howl sounded, high and
hungry. Galaxy Stern had asked what she was in for. It was
time to show her.
3

Winter

Who dies at the gym? After her call with Dawes, Alex
backtracked across the plaza. She had been to Payne Whitney
Gymnasium exactly once: when she’d let Mercy drag her to a
salsa class, where a white girl snugly packed into taut black
pants had told her to pivot, pivot, pivot.
Darlington had encouraged her to use the free weights and
to “build up her cardio.”
“For what?” Alex had asked.
“To better yourself.”
Only Darlington could say something like that with a
straight face. But, then again, he ran six miles every morning
and swept into rooms on a cloud of physical perfection. Every
time he showed up at the Vanderbilt suite, it was as if someone
had run an electric current through the floor. Lauren, Mercy,
even silent, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, frowning Anna, would sit up a little straighter,
looking bright-eyed and slightly frantic as a bunch of well-
groomed squirrels. Alex would have liked to be immune to it
—the pretty face, his lean frame, the easy way he occupied
space as if he owned it. He had a way of distractedly brushing
the brown hair back from his forehead that made you want to
do it for him. But Darlington’s lure was offset by the healthy
fear he instilled in her. At the end of the day, he was a rich boy
in a nice coat who could capsize her without even meaning to.
That first day at the mansion on Orange, he’d set jackals on
her. Jackals. He’d given a sharp whistle and they’d leapt from
the bushes near the house, snarling and cackling. Alex had
screamed. Her legs had tangled as she’d turned to run and
she’d fallen to the grass, nearly impaling herself on the low
iron fence. But early on in her time with Len she’d learned to
always watch the person in charge. That changed from room to
room, house to house, deal to deal, but it always paid to know
who could make the big decisions. That was Darlington. And
Darlington didn’t look scared. He looked interested.
The jackals were stalking toward her, slavering, teeth bared
and backs bent.
They looked like foxes. They looked like the coyotes that
ran the Hollywood Hills. They looked like hounds.
We are the shepherds.
“Darlington,” she said, forcing calm into her voice. “Call
off your fucking dogs.”
He’d spoken a series of words she didn’t understand and
the creatures had slunk back into the bushes, all of their
aggression vanishing, bouncing on their paws and nipping at
one another’s heels. He’d had the gall to smile at her as he
offered her an elegant hand. The Van Nuys girl inside her
longed to slap it away, jab her fingers into his windpipe, and
make him sorry. But she forced herself to take his hand, let
him help her up. It had been the start of a very long day.
When Alex had finally returned home to the dorms, Lauren
waited all of sixty seconds before pouncing with, “So does
your cousin have a girlfriend?”
They were sitting around the new coffee table, trying to get
its legs not to wobble as they pushed in little plastic screws.
Anna had vanished off somewhere and Lauren had ordered
pizza. The window was open, letting in the bare beginnings of
a breeze as twilight fell, and Alex felt like she was watching
herself from the courtyard—a happy girl, a normal girl,
surrounded by people with futures who assumed she had a
future too. She had wanted to hold on to that feeling, to keep it
for herself.
“You know … I have no idea.” She’d been so overwhelmed
she hadn’t had a chance to be curious.
“He smells like money,” said Mercy.
Lauren threw an Allen wrench at her. “Tacky.”
“Don’t start dating my cousin,” Alex said, because that was
the kind of thing these girls said. “I don’t need that mess.”
On this night, with the wind clawing to get into her winter
coat, Alex thought of that girl, illuminated in gold, sitting in
that sacred circle. It was the last moment of peace she could
remember. Only five months had passed but it felt much
longer.
She cut left, shadowed by the white columns that ran along
the south side of the vast dining hall that everyone still called
Commons, though it was supposed to be the Schwarzman
Center now. Schwarzman was a Bonesman, class ofand
had managed a notoriously successful private equity fund, the
Blackstone Nero Platinum 2018 Suite 19.0.07300 Full Crack. The center was the result of a one-hundred-
fifty-million-dollar donation to the university, a gift and a kind
of apology for stray magic that had escaped an unsanctioned
ritual and caused bizarre behavior and seizures in half the
members of the Yale Precision Marching Band during a
football game with Dartmouth.
Alex thought of the Grays in the operating theater, mouths
gaping. It had been a routine prognostication. Nothing should
have gone wrong, but something most definitely had, even if
she was the only one who knew it. And now she was supposed
to contend with a murder? She knew Darlington and Dawes
had kept an eye on homicides in the New Haven area, just to
make sure there was no stink of the uncanny, no chance one of
the societies had gotten overeager and stepped beyond the
bounds of their rituals.
Ahead of her, Grays formed a thin gruel that shifted over
the roof of the law school, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, spreading and curling like milk
poured into coffee, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, drawn by the grind of fear and ambition.
Book and Snake’s towering white tomb loomed on her right.
Of all the society buildings, it was the most like a crypt.
“Greek pediment, Ionic columns. Pedestrian stuff,” Darlington
had said. He Activator Archives s his admiration for the Moorish screens and
scrollwork of Scroll and Key, the severe mid-century lines of
Manuscript, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. But it was the fence surrounding Book and Snake
that always drew Alex’s eye: black iron crawling with snakes.
“The symbol of Mercury, god of commerce,” Darlington had
said.
God of thieves, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Even Alex knew that one. Mercury was the
messenger.
Ahead of her lay Grove Street Cemetery. Alex glimpsed a
cluster of Grays gathered by a grave near the entrance.
Someone had probably left cookies for a lost relative or
something sugary as a fan offering for one of the artists or
architects buried there. But the rest of the cemetery, like all
cemeteries at night, was empty of ghosts. During the day,
Grays were called to the salt tears and fragrant flowers of
mourners, gifts from the living left for the dead. She’d learned
they loved anything that reminded them of life. The spilled
beer and raucous laughter of frat parties; the libraries at exam
time, dense with Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, coffee, and open cans of sweet,
syrupy Coke; dorm rooms staticky with gossip, panting
couples, mini-fridges stuffed with food going to rot, students
tossing in their sleep, dreams full of sex and terror. That’s
where Pfizer Vaccine Registration, Efficacy, Price, Side Effects, Dose Gap should be, Alex thought, in the dorm, showering in the
grimy bathroom, not walking by a graveyard in the dead of
night.
The cemetery gates had been built to look like an Egyptian
temple, their fat columns carved with lotus blossoms, the
plinth emblazoned with giant letters: THE DEAD SHALL BE
RAISED. Darlington called the period at the end of that sentence
the most eloquent piece of punctuation in the English
language. Another thing Alex had been forced to look up,
another bit of code to decipher. Anime Studio Pro 14 Crack 2021 With Activation Code Free Download turned out the quote was
from a Bible verse:
Behold, I show you a mystery: We shall not all sleep;
but we shall all be changed in a moment, in the
twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet
shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible,
and we shall be changed.
“Incorruptible.” When she saw that word she understood
Darlington’s smirk. The dead would be raised, but as for
incorruptibility, Grove Street Cemetery was making no
promises. In New Haven, it was best not to hope for
guarantees.
The scene in front of Payne Whitney gym reminded Alex of
the operating theater, police floodlights illuminating the snow,
throwing the shadows of onlookers against the ground in stark
lines. It would have been beautiful, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, carved in white and black
like a lithograph, but the effect was ruined by barriers of
yellow tape and the lazy, rhythmic whirl of blue and red from
patrol cars that had been parked to block off the intersection
where the two streets conjoined. The activity seemed to be
focused on the triangle of orphaned land at its center.
Alex could see a coroner’s van with its bay doors open;
uniformed officers standing at attention along the perimeter;
men in blue jackets, who she thought might be forensics based
on the television she’d watched; students who had emerged
from their dorms to see what was happening despite the late
hour.
Her time with Len had left her wary of cops. When she was
younger, he’d gotten a kick out of Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen her help with
deliveries, because no uniform—campus security or LAPD—
was going to stop a chubby kid in braids looking for her big
sister on a high school campus. But as she’d gotten older she’d
lost the look of someone who belonged in wholesome places.
Even when she wasn’t carrying, she’d learned to keep well
clear of cops. Some of them just seemed to smell the trouble
on her. But now she was walking toward them, smoothing her
hair with a gloved hand, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, just another student.
Centurion wasn’t hard to spot. Alex had met Detective Abel
Turner exactly once before. He’d been smiling, gracious, and
she’d known in an instant that he hated not only her but also
Darlington and everything related to Lethe. She wasn’t sure
why he’d been chosen as Centurion, the liaison between Lethe
House and the Chief of Police, but he clearly didn’t want the
job.
He stood speaking to another detective and a uniform. He
was a full half head taller than either of them, black, his head
shaved in a low fade. He wore a sharp navy suit and what was
probably a real Burberry overcoat, and ambition rolled off him
like thunder. Too pretty, her grandmother would have said.
Quien se prestado se vestio, en medio de la calle se quito.
Estrea Stern didn’t trust handsome men, particularly the well-
dressed ones.
Alex hovered by the barricade. Centurion was on the scene
just as Dawes had promised, but Alex wasn’t sure how to get
his attention or what to do once she had it. The societies met
on Thursdays and Sundays. No ritual of any real risk was
allowed without Lethe House delegates present, but that didn’t
mean someone hadn’t gone off script. Maybe word had spread
that Darlington was “in Spain” and someone at one of the
societies had used the opportunity to mess with something
new. She didn’t think they had any real malice in mind, but the
Tripps and Mirandas of the world could do plenty of damage
without ever meaning to. Their mistakes never stuck.
The crowd around her had dispersed almost immediately
and Alex remembered how bad she must smell, but there was
nothing she could do about it now. She took out her phone and
scrolled through her few contacts. She’d gotten a new phone
when she’d accepted Lethe’s offer, erasing everyone from her
old life in a single act of banishment, so it was a short list of
numbers. Her roommates. Her mom, who texted every
morning with a series of happy faces, as if emoji were their
own incantation. Turner was in there too but Alex had never
texted him, never had cause to.
I’m here, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, she typed, then Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, It’s Dante, on the very
good possibility that he hadn’t bothered to add her to his
contacts.
She watched as Turner drew his phone from his pocket,
read the message. He didn’t look around.
Her phone buzzed a second later.
I know.
Alex waited for ten minutes, twenty. She watched Turner
finish his conversation, consult a woman in a blue jacket, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, walk
back and forth near a marked-off area, where the body must
have been found.
A cluster of Grays was milling around by the gym. Alex let
her eyes skim over them, landing nowhere, barely focused. A
few were local Grays who could always be found in the area, a
rower who had drowned off the Florida Keys but who now
returned to haunt the training tanks, a heavyset man who had
clearly once been a football player. She thought she glimpsed
the Bridegroom, the city’s most notorious ghost and a favorite
of murder nerds and Haunted New England guidebooks; he
had reputedly killed his fiancée and himself in the offices of a
factory that had once stood barely a mile from here. She didn’t
let her gaze linger to confirm it. Payne Whitney was always a
beacon for Grays, steeped in sweat and endeavor, full of
hunger and fast-beating hearts.
“When did you first see them?” Darlington had asked on
the day they’d first met, the day he’d set the jackals on her.
Darlington knew seven languages. He could fence. He knew
Brazilian jujitsu and how to rewire an electrical box, could
quote poetry and plays by people Alex had never heard of. But
he always asked the wrong questions.
Alex checked her phone. She’d lost another hour. At this
point she probably shouldn’t even bother going to sleep. She
knew she wasn’t high on Turner’s list of priorities, but she was
in a bind.
She typed, My next call is to Sandow.
It was a bluff, one Alex almost hoped Turner wouldn’t fall
for. If he refused to speak to her, she’d happily snitch on him
to the dean—but at a more civilized hour. First she’d go home
and get two glorious hours of sleep.
Instead, she watched Turner take the phone from his
pocket, shake his head, and then saunter over to where she
stood. His nose wrinkled slightly, but all he said was, “Ms.
Stern, how can I help you?”
Alex didn’t really know, but he’d given her plenty of time
to formulate a response. “I’m not here to make trouble for you.
I’m here because I was told to be.”
Turner gave a convincing chuckle. “We all have jobs to do,
Ms. Stern.”
Pretty sure you wish your job entailed wringing my neck
right now. “I understand that, but it’s Thursday night.”
“Preceded by Wednesday, followed by Friday.”
Go ahead and play dumb. Alex would have been happy to
turn her back on him, but she needed something to put in her
report. “Is there a cause of death?”
“Of course something caused her death.”
This asshole. “I meant—”
“I know what you meant. Nothing definitive yet, but I’ll be
sure to write it up for the dean when we know more.”
“If a society is involved—”
“There is no reason to think that.” Like he was at a press
conference, he added, “At this time.”
“It’s Thursday,” she repeated. Though the societies met
twice a week, rituals were only sanctioned on Thursday nights.
Sundays were for “quiet study and inquiry,” which usually
meant a fancy meal served on expensive dishes, the occasional
guest speaker, and plenty of alcohol.
“Were you out with the idiots tonight?” he said, voice still
pleasant. “Is that why you smell like pan-warmed shit? Who
were you with?”
That kick-me troublemaking part of her made her say, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, “You
sound like a jealous boyfriend.”
“I sound like a cop. Answer me.”
“The Bonesmen are on tonight.”
He looked bemused. “Tell them to return Geronimo’s
skull.”
“They don’t have it,” Alex said truthfully. A few years
back, Geronimo’s heirs had brought suit against the society,
but it had come to nothing. The Bonesmen did have his liver
and small intestine in a jar, but she didn’t feel this was the
moment to point that out.
“Where’s Darlington?” Turner asked.
“Spain.”
“Spain?” For the first time, Turner’s mild expression gave
way.
“Study abroad.”
“And he left you in charge?”
“Sure did.”
“He must have a lot of faith in you.”
“Sure does.” Alex flashed him her most winning grin, and
for a second she thought Detective Turner might smile back,
because it took a con to know a con, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. But he didn’t. He’d had
to be careful for too long.
“Where are you from, Stern?”
“Why?”
“Look,” he said. “You seem like a nice girl—”
“No,” said Alex. “I don’t.”
Turner raised a brow, cocked his head to the side, assessing,
then nodded, conceding the point. “All right,” he said. “You
have a job to do tonight and so do I. You did your part. You
talked to me. You’ll let Sandow know a girl died here—a
white girl who’s going to get plenty of attention without you
getting in our way. We’re going to keep this far from the
university and … all the rest.” He gave a wave of his hand as
if he were distractedly swatting a fly instead of shooing away a
century-old cabal of ancient magics. “You’ve done your bit
and you can go home. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Hadn’t Alex just thought that very thing? Even so, she
hesitated, feeling Darlington’s judgment heavy on her. “I do.
But Dean Sandow will want—”
Turner’s mask slipped, the fatigue of the night and his
anger at her presence suddenly visible. “She’s town, Stern.
Back the fuck off.”
She’s town. Not a student. Not connected to the societies.
Let it go.
“Yeah,” Alex said. “That’s fine.”
Turner smiled, dimples appearing in his cheeks, boyish,
pleased, almost a real smile. “There ya go.”
He turned away from her, sauntered back to his people.
Alex glanced up at the gray, Gothic cathedral of Payne
Whitney. It didn’t look like a gym, but nothing here looked
like what it was. That’s what you want, isn’t it?
Detective Abel Turner understood her 18 wheels of steel american long haul version 14.0.0.162 crack keygen a way Darlington
never had.
Good. Better. Best. That was the trajectory that got you to
this place. What Darlington and probably all the rest of these
eager, effortful children couldn’t understand was that Alex
would have happily settled for less than Yale. Darlington was
all about the pursuit of perfection, something spectacular. He
didn’t know how precious a normal life could be, how easy it
was to drift away from average. You started sleeping until
noon, skipped one class, one day of school, lost one job, then
another, forgot the way that normal people did things. You lost
the language of ordinary life. And then, without meaning to,
you crossed into a country from which you couldn’t return.
You lived in a state where the ground always seemed to be
slipping from beneath your feet, with no way back to
someplace solid.
It didn’t matter that Alex had witnessed the delegates of
Skull and Bones predict commodities futures using Michael
Reyes’s guts or that she’d once seen the captain of the lacrosse
team turn himself into a vole. (He’d squealed and then—she
could have sworn it—pumped his tiny pink fist.) Lethe was
Alex’s way back to normal. She didn’t need to be exceptional.
She didn’t even need to be good, just good enough. Turner had
given her permission. Go home. Go to sleep. Take a shower.
Get back to the real work of trying to pass your classes and
make it through the year. Her grades from first semester had
been bad enough to land her in academic probation.
She’s town.
Except the societies liked to shop town girls and boys for
their experiments. It was the whole reason Lethe existed. Or a
big part of it. And Alex had spent most of her life as town.
She eyed the coroner’s van, parked half on and half off the
sidewalk. Turner’s back was still to her.
The mistake people made when they didn’t want to get
noticed was to try to look casual, so instead she strode toward
the van with purpose, a girl who needed to get to the dorms. It
was late, after all. When she rounded the back of the vehicle,
she shot one quick glance in Turner’s direction, then slipped
into the wide V of the open van doors as a uniformed coroner
turned to her.
“Hey,” she said. He remained in a half crouch, face wary,
body blocking the view behind him. Alex held up one of the
two gold coins she kept tucked in the lining of her coat. “You
dropped this.”
He saw the glint and without thinking reached out to take it,
his response part courtesy, part trained behavior. Someone
offered you a boon, you accepted. But it was also a magpie
impulse, the lure of something shiny. She felt a little like a
troll in a fairy tale.
“I don’t think …” he began. But as soon as his fingers
closed over the coin, his face went slack, the compulsion
taking hold.
“Show me the body,” Alex said, half-expecting him to
refuse. She’d seen Darlington flash one at a security guard
before, but she’d never used a coin of compulsion herself.
The coroner didn’t even blink, only backed farther into the
van and offered her his hand. She clambered up behind him
with a quick glance over her shoulder and shut the doors. They
wouldn’t have much time. All she needed was for the driver
or, worse, Turner to come knocking on the door and find her
there, having a chat over a corpse. She also wasn’t sure how
long the compulsion would last. This particular bit of magic
had come from Manuscript. They specialized in mirror magic,
glamours, persuasion. Any object could be enchanted, the
most famous being a condom that had convinced a
philandering Swedish diplomat to hand over a cache of
sensitive documents.
The coins took tremendous magic to generate, so they were
kept in tight supply at Lethe, and Alex had been stingy with
her allotted two. Why was she squandering one now?
As Alex joined the coroner in the enclosed space, she saw
his nostrils flare at her smell, but his fingers were already on
the zipper of the body bag, the coin clutched in his other hand.
He was moving too quickly, as if in fast forward, and Alex had
the urge to tell him to just stop for a second, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, but then the
moment passed and he was pulling the body bag open, the
black vinyl splitting like the skin of a fruit.
“Jesus,” breathed Alex.
Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen girl’s face was fragile, blue veined. She wore a white
cotton camisole, torn and puckered where the knife had
entered and retreated—again and again. The wounds were all
centered on her heart, and she’d been struck with enough force
that it looked as if her sternum had started to give way, the
bones fracturing in a shallow, bloody crater. Alex was
suddenly sorry she hadn’t taken Turner’s strongly worded
advice and gone home. This didn’t look like a ritual gone
wrong. It looked personal.
She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and forced
herself to inhale deeply. If this girl had somehow been targeted
by a society or was messing with the uncanny, the smell of the
Veil should still be on her. But with Alex’s own stink filling
the ambulance, it was impossible to tell.
“It’s the boyfriend.”
Alex glanced at the coroner. Compulsions were supposed to
make anyone under their power eager to please.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Turner said so. They’ve already picked him up for
questioning. He has priors.”
“For what?”
“Dealing and possession. So does Jogos de Tabletop de Graça para Baixar Of course she did. The boyfriend was moving product, and
this girl was too. But there was a good long leap from small-
time dealing to murder. Sometimes, she reminded herself.
Sometimes it’s not far at all.
Alex looked again at the girl’s face. She was blond, a little
like Hellie.
The resemblance was superficial, at least on the outside.
But underneath? In the cut-open places, they were all the
same. Girls like Hellie, girls like Alex, girls like this one, had
to keep running or eventually trouble caught up. This girl just
hadn’t run fast enough.
There were paper bags over her hands—to preserve the
evidence, Alex realized. Maybe she’d scratched her attacker.
“What’s her name?” It didn’t matter, but Alex needed it for
her report.
“Tara Hutchins.”
Alex typed it into her phone so she wouldn’t forget it.
“Cover her up.”
She was glad when she couldn’t see that brutalized body
anymore. This was nasty, ugly, but it didn’t mean Tara was
connected to the societies. People didn’t need magic to be
terrible to each other.
“Time of death?” she asked. That seemed like the kind of
thing she should know.
“Sometime around eleven. Hard to pinpoint because of the
cold.”
She paused with her hand on the lever of the van doors.
Sometime around eleven. Right around the time two docile
Grays who had never given anyone any trouble had opened
their jaws like they were trying to swallow the world and
something had tried to slam its way into a chalk circle. What if
that something had found its way to Tara instead?
Or what if her boyfriend got fucked up enough to think he
could stab straight through to her heart? There were plenty of
human monsters out there. Alex had met a few. For now she’d
“done her part.” More than done it.
Alex cracked the door to the van, scanned the street, then
hopped down. “Forget you met me,” she told the coroner.
A vague, confused expression crossed his face. Alex left
him standing, dazed, beside Tara’s body and strolled away,
crossing the street and keeping to the dark sidewalk, away
from the police lights. In a short while, the compulsion would
wear off and he’d wonder how he’d ended up with a gold coin
in his hand. He would put it in his pocket and forget about it or
toss it in the trash without ever realizing the metal was real.
She glanced back at the Grays gathered around Payne
Whitney. Was it her imagination or was there something in the
bent of their shoulders, the way they huddled together by the
gymnasium doors? Alex knew better than to look too closely,
but in that fleeting moment she could have sworn they looked
frightened. What did the dead have to fear?
She could hear Darlington’s voice in her head: When was
the first time you saw them? Low and halting, as if he wasn’t
sure whether the question was taboo. But the real question, the
right question, was: When was the first time you knew to be
afraid?
Alex was glad he’d never had the sense to ask.
Where do we begin to tell the story of Lethe? Does it
begin in with Bathsheba Smith? Perhaps it
should. But it would take another seventy years and
many more disasters before Lethe would come to be.
So instead we point towhen Charlie Baxter, a
man with no home and of no consequence, turned up
dead with burns to his hands, feet, and scrotum, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen black scarab where his tongue should be.
Accusations flew and the societies found themselves
under threat from the university. To heal the rift and
—let us speak frankly—to save themselves, Edward
Harkness, a member of Wolf’s Head, joined with
William Payne Whitney of Skull and Bones, and
Hiram Bingham III of the now-defunct Acacia
Fraternity, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, to form the League of Lethe as an
oversight body for the societies’ occult activities.
From these earliest meetings rose our mission
statement: We are charged with monitoring the rites
and practices of any senior societies trafficking in
magic, divination, or otherworldly discourse, with
the express intent of keeping citizens and students
safe from mental, physical, and spiritual harm and of
fostering amicable relations between the societies
and school administration.
Lethe was funded by an infusion of capital from
Harkness and a mandatory contribution from the
trusts of each of the Ancient Eight. When Harkness
tapped James Gamble Rogers (Scroll and Key, )
to create a plan for Yale and design many of its
structures, he ensured that safe houses and tunnels
for Lethe would be built throughout the campus.
Harkness, Whitney, and Bingham drew on
knowledge from each of the societies to create a
storehouse of arcane magic for Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen by the deputies of
Lethe. This was added to significantly inwhen
Bingham traveled to Peru.
—from The Life of Lethe: Procedures and
Protocols of the Ninth House
4

Last Fall

“Come on,” Darlington said, helping her to her feet. “The


illusion will break any minute and you’ll be lying in the front
yard like a noon drinker.” He half-dragged her up the stairs to
the porch. She’d handled the jackals well enough, but her
color wasn’t good and she was breathing hard. “You’re in
terrible shape.”
“And you’re an asshole.”
“Then we both have hardships to overcome. You asked Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen tell you what you were getting into. Now you know.”
She yanked her arm away. “Tell me. Not try to kill me.”
He looked at her steadily. It was important she understand.
“You were never in any danger. But I can’t promise that will
always be the case. If you don’t take this seriously, you could
get yourself or someone else hurt.”
“Someone like you?”
“Yes,” he said. “Most of the time nothing too bad happens
at the Houses. You’ll see things you’d like to forget. Miracles
too. But no one completely understands what lies beyond the
Veil or what might happen if it crosses over. Death waits on
black wings and we stand hoplite, hussar, dragoon.”
She placed her hands on her thighs and peered up at him.
“You make that up?”
“Cabot Collins. They called him the Poet of Lethe.”
Darlington reached for the door. “He lost both his hands when
an interdimensional portal closed on them. He was reciting his
latest work at the time.”
Alex shuddered. “Okay, I get it, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Bad poetry, serious
business. Are those dogs real?”
“Real enough. They’re spirit hounds, bound to serve the
sons and daughters of Lethe. Why the long sleeves, Stern?”
“Track marks.”
“Really?” He’d suspected that might be the issue, but he
didn’t quite believe her.
She straightened and cracked her back. “Sure. Are we
going in or not?”
He bobbed his chin toward her wrist. “Show me.”
Alex lifted her arm, but she didn’t shove her sleeve back.
She just held it out to him, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, like he was going to tap a vein for a
blood drive.
A challenge. One that he suddenly didn’t want to accept. It
was none of his business. He should say that. Let it go.
Instead, he took hold of her wrist. The bones were narrow,
sharp in his hand. With his other hand he pushed the fabric of
her shirt up the slope of her forearm. It felt like a prelude.
No needle punctures. Her skin was covered in tattoos: the
curling tail of a rattlesnake, the sunburst bloom of a peony, and

“The Wheel.” He resisted the urge to touch his thumb to the
image below the crook of her elbow. Dawes would be
interested in that bit of tarot. Maybe it would give them
something to talk about. “Why hide tattoos? No one cares
about that here.” Half the student body had them. Not many
had full sleeves, but they weren’t unheard of.
Alex yanked her cuff back down. “Any other hoops to jump
through?”
“Plenty.” He pulled open the door and led her inside.
The entry was dark and cool, the stained glass throwing
bright patterns onto the carpeted floor. Before them, the great
staircase wound along the wall to the second story, dark wood
carved in a thick sunflower motif. Michelle had told him the
staircase alone was worth more than the rest of the house and
the land it was built on.
Alex released a small sigh.
“Glad to be out of the sun?”
She made a soft humming noise. “It’s quiet here.”
It took him a moment to understand what she meant. “Il
Bastone is warded. As are the rooms at the Hutch…. It’s that
bad?”
Alex shrugged.
“Well … they can’t get to you here.”
Alex looked around, her face impassive. Was she
unimpressed by the soaring entry, the warm wood and stained
glass, the scent of pine and cassis that always made stepping
into the house feel a bit like Christmas? Or was she just trying
to seem that way?
“Nice clubhouse,” she said. “Not very tomblike.”
“We’re not a society and we don’t run like one. This isn’t a
clubhouse; it’s our headquarters, the heart of Lethe, and the
storehouse of hundreds of years of knowledge on the occult.”
He knew he sounded like a horrible prig but he couldn’t seem
to stop himself. “The societies tap a new delegation of seniors
every year, sixteen members—eight women, eight men, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. We
tap a single new Dante—one freshman every three years.”
“Guess that makes me pretty special.”
“Let’s hope so.”
Alex frowned at that, then nodded at the marble bust
propped on a table beneath the coat rack. “Who’s that?”
“The patron saint of Lethe, Hiram Bingham the Third.”
Unfortunately, Bingham’s boyish features and downturned
mouth didn’t lend themselves to immortalization in stone. He
looked like a perturbed department store mannequin.
Dawes shuffled out of the parlor, her hands curled into the
sleeves of her voluminous sweatshirt, her headphones snug
around her neck, a vision in beige. Darlington could feel the
discomfort radiating off her. Pammie hated new people. It had
taken him the better part of his freshman year to win her over,
and he still always had the sense that she might be one loud
noise away from bolting into the library, never to be seen
again.
“Pamela Dawes, meet our new Dante, Alex Stern.”
With all the enthusiasm of someone greeting a cholera
outbreak, Dawes offered her hand and said, “Welcome to
Lethe.”
“Dawes keeps everything running and ensures I don’t make
too big a fool of myself.”
“So it’s a full-time job?” asked Alex.
Dawes blinked. “Evenings and afternoons, but I can make
myself available to you with enough notice.” She glanced back
at the parlor worriedly, as if her long-unfinished dissertation
was a baby crying. Dawes had served as Oculus for nearly
four years and she’d been hammering away on her dissertation
—an examination of Mycenaean cult practices in early tarot
iconography—all the while.
Darlington decided to put her out of her misery. “I’m giving
Alex the tour and then I’ll take her across campus to the
Hutch.”
“The Hutch?” asked Alex.
“Rooms we keep at the corner of York and Elm. It’s not
much, but it’s convenient when you don’t want to trek too far
from your dorm. And it’s warded too.”
“It’s stocked,” Dawes said faintly, already scooting back
into the parlor and safety.
Darlington gestured for Alex to follow him upstairs.
“Who was Bathsheba Smith?” Alex asked on his heels.
Then she had been reading her Life of Lethe. He was
pleased she remembered the name, but, if memory served,
Bathsheba appeared on the first page of the first chapter, so he
wasn’t going to get too excited. “The seventeen-year-old
daughter of a local farmer. Her body was found in the
basement of the Yale Medical School in She’d been dug
up for study by the students.”
“Jesus.”
“It wasn’t uncommon. Doctors needed to study anatomy
and they needed cadavers to do that. But we think Bathsheba
was an early attempt to communicate with the dead. A medical
assistant took the fall, and Yale’s students learned to keep their
activities more quiet. After the discovery of the girl’s body, the
locals nearly burned Yale to the ground.”
“Maybe they should have,” murmured Alex.
Maybe. They’d called it the Resurrection Riot, but it hadn’t
turned truly nasty. Boom or bust, New Haven was a town
forever on the brink of things.
Darlington toured Alex around the rest of Il Bastone: the
grand parlor, with the old map of New Haven above the
fireplace; the kitchen and pantry; the downstairs training
rooms; and the second-floor armory, with its wall of
apothecary drawers, all of them stocked with herbs and sacred
objects.
It was left to Dawes to make sure they were kept well
supplied, that any perishable items were freshened or disposed
of before they turned foul, and to maintain any artifacts that
required it. Cuthbert’s Pearls of Protection had to be worn for
a few hours every month or they lost both their luster and their
power to protect the wearer from lightning strikes. A Lethe
alum named Lee De Forest, who had once been suspended as
an undergrad for causing a campus-wide blackout, had left
Lethe with countless inventions, including the Revolution
Clock, which showed an accurate-to-the-minute countdown to
armed revolt in countries around the globe. It had twenty-two
faces and seventy-six hands and had to be wound regularly or
it would simply begin screaming.
Darlington pointed out the stores of bone dust and
graveyard dirt, with which they would provision themselves
on Thursday nights, and the rare vials of Perdition Water, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, said
to come from the seven rivers of hell and that were to be used
only in case of emergency. Darlington had never had cause to
tap into any of them, but he kept hoping.
At the center of the room sat Hiram’s Crucible, or, as the
delegates of Lethe liked to call it, “the Golden Bowl.” It was
the circumference of a tractor wheel and made of beaten
twenty-two-karat gold.
“For years, Lethe knew there were ghosts in New Haven.
There were hauntings, rumors of sightings, and some of the
societies had managed to pierce the Veil through séances and
summonings. But Lethe knew there was more, a secret world
operating beside ours and frequently interfering with it.”
“Interfering with it how?” Alex asked, and he could see the
narrow line of her shoulders tighten, that slightly hunched
fighter’s stance.
“At the time, no one was sure. They suspected that the
presence of Grays in sacred circles and temple halls was
disrupting the spells and rituals of the societies. There were
signs that stray magic loosed from rituals by the interference
of Grays could cause anything from a sudden frost ten miles
away to violent outbursts in schoolchildren. But Lethe had no
proof and no way to prevent it. Year after year they attempted
to perfect an elixir that would allow them to see spirits,
experimenting on themselves through sometimes-deadly trial
and error. Still, they had nothing to show for their work, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Until
Hiram’s Crucible.”
Alex ran her finger against the gilded edge of the basin. “It
looks like a sun.”
“Many of the structures in Machu Picchu were dedicated to
the worship of the sun god.”
“This thing came from Peru?” Alex asked. “You don’t need
to look so surprised. I know where Machu Picchu is. I can
even find Texas on a map if you give me enough time.”
“You’ll have to forgive my lack of familiarity with the
curriculum of the Los Angeles School District or your interest
in same.”
“Forgiven.”
Maybe, thought Darlington. But Alex Stern looked like the
type to hold a grudge.
“Hiram Bingham was one of the founding members of
Lethe. He ‘discovered’ Machu Picchu inthough that
word tends to ruffle Vectric Aspire Crack 11 & License Code 2021, since the locals were perfectly
aware of its existence.” When Alex said nothing, he added,
“He was also rumored to be the inspiration for Indiana Jones.”
“Nice,” said Alex.
Darlington held back a sigh. Of course that would be what
got her attention. “Bingham stole about forty thousand
artifacts.”
“And brought them back here?”
“Yes, to Yale, to be studied at the Peabody. He said they
would be returned after eighteen months. It took literally one
hundred years for Peru to get them back.”
Alex flicked her finger against the crucible and it emitted a
low hum. “They forget this in the return shipment? It seems
pretty hard to miss.”
“The crucible was never documented because it was never
given to Yale. It was brought to Lethe.”
“Stolen goods.”
“Very much so, I’m afraid. But it’s the key to the Orozcerio.
The problem with Lethe’s elixir wasn’t the recipe; it was the
vessel.”
“So it’s a magical mixing bowl?”
Such a little heathen, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. “I might not put it that way, but yes.”
“And it’s gold all the way through?”
“Before you think about trying to run off with it, keep in
mind that it weighs twice as much as you do and that the
whole house is warded against theft.”
“If you say so.”
With his luck she’d find a way to roll the crucible down the
stairs into the back of a truck and melt it down for earrings.
“The elixir has plenty of other names besides Orozcerio,”
he said. “The Golden Trial. Hiram’s Bullet. Every time a
member of Lethe drinks it, every time the crucible is used, he
takes his life in his hands. The mixture is toxic and the process
incredibly painful. But we do it. Again and again. For a
glimpse behind the Veil.”
“I get it,” said Alex. “I’ve met users before.”
It isn’t like that, he wanted to protest. But maybe it was.
The rest of the tour was uneventful. Darlington showed her
the storage and research rooms in the upper stories, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, how to use
the library—though he warned her not to use it on her own
until the house got to know her—and finally the bedroom and
adjoining bath, tidied and readied for her as Lethe’s new
Dante. He’d moved his own things to Virgil’s suite at the end
of last year, back when he’d still believed he’d have a proper
protégé. He’d felt embarrassingly sentimental about it all.
Virgil’s quarters were a floor above Dante’s and twice as large.
When he graduated, they would be left empty so that they
would be available to him if he chose to visit. The vanity had
belonged to Eleazar Wheelock. Half of the wall facing the bed
was taken up by a stained-glass window depicting a hemlock
wood, positioned so that as the sun rose and set throughout the
day, the colors of the glass trees and the sky above it seemed
to change as well. When he’d moved in, he discovered that
Michelle had left him a bottle of brandy and a note on her last
visit:
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines
and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garment green, indistinct
in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and
prophetic …
There was a monastery that produced Armagnac so
refined, its monks were forced to flee to Italy when
Louis XIV joked about killing them to protect their
secrets. This is the last bottle. Don’t drink it on an
empty stomach, and don’t call unless you’re dead.
Good luck, Virgil!
He’d always thought Longfellow was tripe, but he’d
treasured the note and the brandy anyway.
Now he watched Alex sweating amid the luxury of his old
rooms, rooms that had been rarely used but much beloved—
the dark blue walls, the canopied bed with its heavy teal
covers, the armoire painted with white dogwood, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. The stained
glass here was more modest, two elegant windows—clouds in
shades of blue and violet set atop starry skies—bracketing a
fireplace of painted tiles.
Alex stood at the center of it all, her arms wrapped around
her middle, turning slowly. Luxor Amun Rising GameHouse crack serial keygen thought again of Undine. But
maybe she was just a girl lost at sea.
He had to ask. “When did you first see them?”
She glanced at him, then at the window above her, the
moon waxing forever in a stained-glass sky. She picked up the
Reuge music box from the desk, touched her finger to the lid,
but then thought better of it, set it down.
Darlington was a good talker, but he was happiest when no
one was speaking to him, when he didn’t have to perform the
ritual of himself and he could simply be left to watch others.
Alex had a grainy quality to her, like an old film. He could tell
she was making a choice. Whether to reveal her secrets?
Whether to run?
She shrugged and he thought she would leave it at that, but
then she picked up the music box again and said, “I don’t
know. I thought they were people for a while, and it’s not like
anyone pays attention to a kid talking to no one. I remember
seeing a fat guy in nothing but socks and undershorts, holding
a remote control in one hand like a teddy bear and standing in
the middle of the street. I remember trying to tell my mom he
was going to get hurt. On our trip to the Santa Monica Pier, I
saw a woman lying in the water like a picture of …” She
gestured as if stirring a pot. “With her hair and the flowers?”
“Ophelia.”
“Ophelia. She followed me home, and when I cried and
shouted at her to leave, she just tried to push closer.”
“They like tears. The salt, the sadness, any strong emotion.”
“Fear?” she asked. She was so still, as if she were posing for a
portrait.
“Fear.” Few Grays were malevolent, but they did love to
startle and terrify.
“Why aren’t there more of them? Shouldn’t they be
everywhere?”
“Only a few Grays can pass through the Veil. The vast
majority remain in the afterlife.”
“I’d see them at the supermarket, around the hot-foods case
or those pink bakery boxes. They loved our school cafeteria. I
didn’t think about it much until Jacob Craig asked if I wanted
to see his thing. I told him I’d seen plenty of them, and
somehow it got back to his mom, and she called the school. So
the teacher brings me in and asks, ‘What do you mean you’ve
seen lots of things?’ I didn’t know to lie.” She plunked the
music box down. “If you want to get Child Protective Services
called fast, just start talking about ghost dick.”
Darlington wasn’t sure what he’d expected. A dead
highwayman lurking romantically at the window? A banshee
roaming the banks of the Los Angeles River like La Llorona?
There was something so ordinary and awful about her story.
About her. Someone had reported Alex’s case to CPS, and one
of Lethe’s search algorithms or one of their many contacts in
one of the many bureaus that they paid off had caught mention
of those notable key words: Delusions. Paranoia. Ghosts.
From that point on, she’d probably been watched. “And that
night Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen the apartment on Cedros?”
She frowned and then said, “Oh, you mean Ground Zero.
Don’t tell me you haven’t read the file.”
“I have. I want to know how you survived.”
Alex rubbed her thumb over the edge of the windowsill.
“So do I.”
Was that enough? Darlington had seen the crime-scene
photos, video taken by officers arriving on scene. Five men
dead, all of them beaten nearly unrecognizable, two of them
staked through the heart like vampires. Despite the carnage,
blood spatter indicated it was all the work of one perpetrator—
arcs of red, every vicious blow struck from left to right.
Something was off about the whole thing, but Alex was
never a suspect. For one thing, she was right-handed, and for
another, she was far too small to have wielded a weapon with
so much force. Besides, she had enough fentanyl in her system
that she was lucky she hadn’t died herself. Her hair had been
wet and she’d been found naked as a newborn. Darlington had
dug a little deeper, unable to shake Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen suspicions, but there
had been no blood or remains in the drain—if she’d somehow
been involved, she hadn’t showered the proof away. So why
had the attacker left the girls alone? If the police were right
and this was some kind of beef with another dealer, why spare
Alex and her friend? Drug dealers who beat people to death
with bats didn’t seem like the spare-the-women-and-children
type. Maybe the attacker had believed they were dead already
from the drugs. Or maybe Alex had tipped someone off. But
she knew something more about what had happened than
she’d told the police. He felt it in his bones.
“Hellie and I got high,” she said quietly, still brushing her
finger against the windowsill. “I woke up in the hospital. She
didn’t wake up at all.”
She looked very small suddenly and Darlington felt a stab
of shame. She was twenty, older than most freshmen, but she
was still just a kid in a lot of ways, in over her head. And she’d
lost friends that night, her boyfriend, everything familiar.
Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen with me,” he said, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe
because he felt guilty for prying. Maybe because she didn’t
deserve to be punished for saying yes to a bargain no right-
minded person would refuse.
He led her back to the gloom of the armory. It had no
windows, and its walls were lined in shelves and drawers
nearly two stories high. It took him a moment to find the
cupboard he wanted. When he rested his hand on the door, the
house paused, then let the lock give with a disapproving click.
Carefully, he removed the box—heavy, gleaming black
wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl.
“You’ll probably need to remove your shirt,” he said. “I’ll
give Dawes the box and she can—”
“Dawes doesn’t like me.”
“Dawes doesn’t like anyone.”
“Here,” she said. She pulled the shirt over her head,
revealing a black bra and ribs shadowed like the furrows of a
tilled field. “Don’t get Dawes.”
Why was she so willing to put herself in his hands? Was
she unafraid or just reckless? Neither trait boded well for her
future at Lethe. But he had the sense that it was neither of
those things. It felt like she was testing him now, like she’d
laid down another challenge.
“Some propriety Groupy 1.49.1 Crack Full Version is Here [2021] kill you,” he said.
“Why take the chance?”
“Usually when a woman takes her clothes off in front of me
I have some warning.”
Alex shrugged, and the shadows moved over her skin.
“Next time, I’ll light the signal fires.”
“That would be best.”
Tattoos covered her from wrist to shoulder and spread
beneath her clavicles. They looked like armor.
He opened the box’s lid.
Alex drew in a sudden breath and skittered backward.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. She’d retreated nearly halfway
across the room.
“I don’t like butterflies.”
“They’re moths.” They perched in even rows in the box,
soft white wings fluttering.
“Whatever.”
“I’ll need you to stay still,” he said. “Can you?”
“Why?”
“Just trust me. It will be worth it.” He considered. “If it’s
not, I’ll drive you and your roommates to Ikea.”
Alex balled her shirt in her fists. “And take us for pizza
after.”
“Fine.”
“And dear Aunt Eileen is going to buy me some new fall
clothes.”
“Fine. Now come here, you coward.”
She crossed back to him in a kind of sideways shuffle,
averting her eyes from the contents of the box.
One by one, he took out the moths and laid them gently on
her skin. One at her right wrist, her right forearm, the crook of
her elbow, her slender biceps, the knob of her shoulder. He
repeated the process with her left arm, then placed two moths
at the points of her collarbones where the heads of two black
snakes curled, their tongues nearly meeting at the hollow of
her throat.
“Chabash,” he murmured. The moths beat their wings in
unison. “Uverat.” They flapped their wings again and began
to turn gray. “Memash.”
With each beat of their wings, the moths grew darker and
the tattoos started to fade.
Alex’s chest rose and fell in jagged, rapid bursts. Her eyes
were wide with fear, but as the moths darkened and the ink
vanished from her skin, her expression changed, opened. Her
lips parted.
She’s seen the dead, he thought. She’s witnessed horrors.
But she’s never seen magic.
This was why he had done it, not because of guilt or MySims crack serial keygen because this was the moment he’d been waiting for: the
chance to show someone else wonder, to watch them realize
that they had not been lied to, that the world they’d been
promised as children was not something that had to be
abandoned, that there really was something lurking in the
wood, beneath the stairs, between the stars, that everything
was full of mystery.
The Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen beat their wings again, again, until they were
black, then blacker. One by one they tipped from her arms and
dropped to the floor in a faint patter. Alex’s arms were bare,
stripped of all sign of the tattoos, though in places where the
needle had gone deep, he could still discern faint ridges. Alex
held her arms out, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, breath coming in gasps.
Darlington gathered the moths’ fragile bodies, placing them
gently in the box.
“Are they dead?” she whispered.
“Ink drunk.” He shut the lid and placed the box back in the
cupboard. This time the lock’s click seemed more resigned. He
and the house were going to have to have a discussion.
“Address moths were originally used for transporting
classified material. Once they drank a document, they could be
sent anywhere in a coat pocket or a box of antiques. Then
they’d be placed on a fresh sheet of paper and would recreate
the document to the word. As long as the recipient knew the
right incantation.”
“So we could put my tattoos on you?”
“They might not fit quite right, but we could. Just be
careful …” He waved a hand. “In the throes. Human saliva
reverses the magic.”
“Only human?”
“Yes. Feel free to let a dog lick your elbows.”
Then she turned her gaze on him. In the shadows of the
room, her eyes looked black, wild. “Is there more?”
He didn’t have to ask what she meant. Would the world
keep unraveling? Keep spilling its secrets?
“Yes. There’s plenty more.”
She hesitated. Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen you show me?”
“If you let me.”
Alex smiled then, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, a small thing, a glimpse of the girl
lurking inside her, a happy, less haunted girl. That was what
magic did. It revealed the heart of who you’d been before life
took away your belief in the possible. It gave back the world
all lonely children longed for. That was what Lethe had done
for him, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Maybe it could do that for Alex as well.
Months later, he would remember the weight of the moths’
bodies in his palm. He would think of that moment and how
foolish he had been to think he knew her at all.
5

Winter

The sky was already fading into gray when Alex finally made
it back to Old Campus. She’d stopped at the Hutch to shower
with verbena soap beneath a hanging censer filled with cedar
and palo santo—the only things that would counter the stink of
the Veil.
She had spent so little time in Lethe places by herself. She
had always been with Darlington, and she still expected to see
him tucked into the window seat with a book, expected to hear
him grumble that she’d used all of the hot water. He’d
suggested leaving clothes there and at Il Bastone, but Alex
already had so little to wear that she couldn’t afford to stash an
extra pair of jeans and one of her two bras somewhere other
than her ugly school-issue dresser. So when she stepped out of
the bathroom into the narrow dressing room, she had to opt for
Lethe House sweats—the Lethe spirit hound embroidered at
the left breast and right hip, a symbol meaningless to anyone
but society members. Darlington’s own clothes still hung there
—a Barbour jacket, a striped Davenport College scarf, fresh
jeans neatly folded and creased, perfectly broken-in engineer
boots, and a pair of Sperry Top-Siders just waiting for
Darlington to slip into them. She’d never seen him wear them,
but maybe you had to have a pair in case your preppy card got
pulled.
Alex left a green desk lamp burning at the Hutch. Dawes
wouldn’t like it, but she couldn’t quite bear to leave the rooms
in darkness.
She was unlocking the door to the Vanderbilt entryway
when a text arrived from Dean Sandow: Have confabbed w
Centurion. Rest easy.
She wanted to throw her phone across the courtyard. Rest
easy? If Sandow intended to handle the murder directly, why
had she wasted her time—and her coin of compulsion—
visiting the crime scene? She knew the dean didn’t trust her.
Why would he? He’d probably been up with a cup of
chamomile tea when he got the news of Tara’s death, his big
dog asleep on his feet, waiting by the phone to make sure
nothing went horribly wrong at the prognostication and Alex
didn’t humiliate herself or Lethe. Of course he wouldn’t want
her anywhere near a murder.
Rest easy. Everything else went unsaid: I don’t expect you
to handle this. No one expects you to handle this. No one
expects you to do anything but keep from drawing unwanted
attention until we get Darlington back.
If they could find him. If they could somehow bring him
home from whatever dark place he’d gone. In less than a week
they’d attempt the new-moon rite. Alex didn’t understand the
specifics, only that Dean Sandow believed it would work and
that, until it did, her job was to make sure that no one asked
too many questions about Lethe’s missing golden boy. At least
now Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen didn’t have a homicide to worry about or a grumpy
detective to deal with.
When she entered the common room to find Mercy already
awake, Alex was glad she’d stopped to shower and change.
She had thought college dorms would be like hotels, long
hallways pocked with bedrooms, but Vanderbilt felt more like
an old-fashioned apartment building, full of tinny music,
people humming and laughing as they went in and out of the
shared bathrooms, the slamming of doors echoing up and
down the central staircase. The squat she’d shared with Len
and Hellie and Betcha and the others had been noisy, but its
sighs and moans had been different, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, defeated, like a dying
body.
“You’re awake,” Alex said.
Mercy glanced up from her copy of To the Lighthouse, its
pages thick with pastel sticky notes. Her hair was in an
elaborate braid, and instead of bundling up in their ratty
afghan, she’d thrown a silk robe patterned with blue hyacinths
over her jeans. “Did you even come home last night?”
Alex took a chance. “Yeah. You were already snoring. I just
got up to get a run in.”
“You went to the gym? Are the showers even open this
early?”
“For crew and stuff.” Alex wasn’t actually sure this was
true, but she knew Mercy cared less about sports than just
about anything. Besides, Alex didn’t own running shoes or a
sports bra, and Mercy never asked about that. People didn’t go
looking for lies that didn’t have a reason, and why would
anyone lie about going for a morning run?
“Psychos.” Mercy tossed a stapled stack of pages at Alex,
who caught them but couldn’t quite bring herself to look. Her
Milton essay. Mercy had offered to give it a read. Alex could
already see the red pen all over it.
“How was it?” she asked, shuffling into their bedroom.
“Not terrible.”
“But not good,” Alex muttered as she entered their tiny
cave of a room and stripped out of her sweats. Mercy had
covered her side of the wall in posters, family photos, ticket
stubs from Broadway shows, a poem written in Chinese
characters that Mercy said her parents made her memorize for
dinner parties when she was a kid but that she’d fallen in love
with, a series of Alexander McQueen sketches, a starburst of
red envelopes. Alex knew it was partially an act, a
construction of the person Mercy wanted to be at Yale, but
every item, every object connected her to something. Alex felt
like someone had come along early and snipped all of her
threads. Her grandmother had been her closest link to any kind
of real past, but Estrea Stern had died when Alex was nine.
And Mira Stern had grieved her but she’d had no interest in
her mother’s stories or songs, the way she cooked or prayed.
She called herself an explorer—homeopathy, allopathy,
healing gemstones, Kryon, spirit science, three months when
she’d put spirulina in everything—each embraced with the
same fierce optimism, dragging Alex along from one silver
bullet to the next. As for Alex’s father, Mira was hazy on the
details, hazier when pushed. He was a question mark, Alex’s
phantom half. All she knew was that he loved the ocean, that
he was a Gemini, and that he was brown—Mira couldn’t tell
her if he was Dominican or Guatemalan or Puerto Rican, but
she did know he was Aquarius rising with his moon in
Scorpio. Or something. Alex could never remember.
She’d brought few objects from home. She hadn’t wanted
to return to Ground Zero to pick up any of her old stuff, and
the belongings in her mother’s apartment were little-girl things
—plastic ponies, rosettes made of colored ribbons, bubble-
gum-scented erasers. In the end, she’d packed a hunk of
smoky quartz that her mother had given her, her
grandmother’s nearly illegible recipe cards, an earring tree
she’d had since she was eight, and a retro map of California,
which she hung next to Mercy’s poster of Coco Chanel. “I
know she was a fascist,” Mercy had said. “But I can’t quit
her.”
Dean Sandow had suggested Alex purchase a few
sketchbooks and charcoal too, and she’d dutifully placed them
atop her half-empty dresser as cover.
Alex had tried to choose the easiest subjects possible—
English lit, her Spanish requirement, an introductory sociology
course, painting. She’d thought at least English would be easy
because she liked to read. Even when things had been really
bad in school, she’d still been able to fake her Assetto Corsa Competizione v1.7.13 - CODEX through
those classes. But this English was an entirely different
language. She’d gotten a D on her first paper, with a note that
said, This is a book report. It had been just like high school
except she’d actually been trying.
“I love you, but this essay is a mess,” said Mercy from the
common room. “It would probably be better if you spent less
time working out and more time working.” No shit, thought
Alex. Mercy was going to be in for a real surprise if she ever
asked Alex to jog somewhere or lift something heavy. “We can
go through it over breakfast.”
All Alex wanted was sleep, but going back to bed didn’t
seem to be the thing people did after a run, and Mercy had
done her the courtesy of editing her awful English paper, so
she definitely needed to say yes to breakfast. Lethe had
provided Alex with a tutor, an American Studies grad student
named Angus who spent most of their weekly sessions bent
over Alex’s work, snorting in exasperation and shaking his
head like a horse plagued by flies. Mercy wasn’t exactly
gentle, but she was a lot more patient.
Alex yanked on jeans and a T-shirt, then the black Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen she’d prized so much when she’d picked it out at
Target. It was only when she’d seen Lauren’s lush lavender
pullover and foolishly asked, “What is this made of?” that
she’d understood there were as many kinds of cashmere as
there were of cush, and that her own sad sweater pulled from

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

Teachers Notes

Terciel and Elinor

Published: November

Bestselling novelist Garth Nix returns to the Old Kingdom for the never-before-told love story of Sabriel's parents, Terciel and Elinor, and the charter magic that brought them together - and threatened to tear them apart. A long-awaited prequel to a classic fantasy series.

The Astonishing Chronicles of Oscar from Elsewhere

Published: November

The magical fourth book in the rich and whimsical world of the Kingdoms and Empires about a non-magical boy called Oscar who finds himself caught up in a surprisingly urgent quest in an even more surprising world.

Somebody's Land: Welcome to Our Country

Published: November

An accessible picture book for young children that introduces First Nations history and the term 'terra nullius' to a general audience, from Australian of the Year, community leader and anti-racism advocate Adam Goodes and political adviser and former journalist Ellie Laing, with artwork by Barkindji illustrator David Hardy.

Noni the Pony Counts to a Million

Published: September

Noni the Pony has a lot of fun counting everything she sees on a happy summer's day! You may have met Noni already in Noni the Pony, Noni the Pony Goes to the Photo Editing Archives - Download Pro Crack Software and Noni the Pony Rescues a Joey.

Dark Rise: Dark Rise 1

Published: September

The first book in a brilliant YA fantasy trilogy from internationally acclaimed Australian author CS Pacat.

Video repairer Archives - Kali Software Crack Harriet and the Terrible Tantrum

Published: September

From the incredible imagination of Leigh Hobbs comes an original character and an old friend, in Horrible Harriet's wildest adventure yet.

Dragon Skin

Published: September

From the bestselling and multi-award-winning author of Lenny's Book of Everything comes a magical tale about a girl who saves a dragon and rescues her family.

Treasure in the Lake

Published: September

A fantasy-adventure graphic novel about two best friends and their discovery of a mysterious village, perfect for fans of Kazu Kibuishi's Amulet or Raina Telgemeier's Ghost.

It's Not You, It's Me

Published: August

A literally life-changing novel about time travel, soulmates and serial killers that asks a very big question: Can you ever change your fate? This is award-winning YA author Gabrielle Williams' most surprising, ambitious and dexterous book yet.

The Song of Lewis Carmichael

Published: August

A beautiful, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, illustrated adventure story with a Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen feel, about a quiet boy and a talking crow on an extraordinary hot-air balloon ride to the Arctic.

A Trip to the Hospital

Published: August

A children's book that explores all the amazing things that happen inside a children's hospital and gives thanks to the many hardworking people that help keep us safe and well.

Underground

Published: August

Led by an unconscientiously objecting wombat registered for military service during Australia's war in Vietnam, Underground digs tunnels through a chapter of Australian history that many have attempted to bury.

We Go Way Back

Published: August

An entertaining and scientific exploration of the origin of life on Earth, from the award-winning author of Do Not Lick This Book and the bestselling illustrator of Who Am I?

The Inheritance

Published: August

A provocative call-to-arms to economic leaders to change course and better protect our planet and its people, presented in words and pictures by the multi-award-winning creator of The Island and The Mediterranean.

Sugar Town Queens

Published: August

From the award-winning author of the CBCA shortlisted When the Ground is Hard, comes a stunning portrait of a family divided and an uplifting story of how friendship saves and heals.

Who Fed Zed?

Published: July

A zany picture book about Ted, Ned and Fred, Fred's dog, Jed, and Fred's fish, Zed, from the hilarious author of The Book Chook and the illustrator of the phenomenally successful No One Likes a Fart.

Story Doctors

Published: July

An empowering story for all Australians, acknowledging our true history, embracing inclusivity, and celebrating the healing powers of nature and culture.

Flummox: How to Make a Pet Monster 2

Published: June

Doesn't everyone want their very own pet monster?
A fantastically readable, gloriously funny and collectable new junior fiction series.

The Boy Who Stepped Through Time

Published: June

An accidental trip back to the Roman Empire sets off a race against time to save a friendship - and a life. A thrilling time-slip adventure from a much-loved Australian author.

Sister of the Bollywood Bride

Published: June

For fans of Morgan Matson's Save the Date and Sandhya Menon's When Dimple Met Rishi (streaming as Mismatched on Netflix) comes a fun and lighthearted novel about one teen's summer tackling disasters including, but not limited to, family, romance, and weather - as she plans her sister's Bollywood-style Indian wedding.

The Other Side of Perfect

Published: May

A stunning and unique story about healing that offers a gentle hand to anyone who struggles with perfectionism, competition and an all-or-nothing mindset, as well as those who don't understand ambition.

Pawcasso

Published: May

A delightful graphic novel about friendship and belonging, starring the world's most adorable dog, perfect for fans of Raina Telgemeier's Guts.

Shackleton's Endurance

Published: May

Ernest Shackleton's remarkable story is a terrifying adventure with the happiest of endings - another brilliant narrative non-fiction Antarctic adventure featuring an explorer who was a true polar hero.

The Katha Chest

Published: March

A warm, child-centred exploration of family, history and connectedness.

Off the Map

Published: March

By turns dark and light, funny and poignant, this unforgettable collection of stories takes us right to the heart of what it means to be young in today's world, from a CBCA award-winning author.

Huda and Me

Published: March

A cheeky, fun and fast-moving tale of two Lebanese-Australian kids who decide to escape their horrible babysitter by running away…to the other side of the world.

Main Abija My Grandad

Published: March

A tribute to a much-loved grandfather, celebrating First Nations Australian culture, country and the circle of life. Told in Kriol and English.

Thunderbolt

Published: March

Second in a brand new action adventure series starring year-old Jack Courtney - a hero to rival Alex Rider - from worldwide bestselling author Wilbur Smith.

Waking Romeo

Published: March

What if Juliet Capulet met someone who made her doubt true love? What if Wuthering Heights was a message to a time traveller? A cosmic reimagining of Romeo and Juliet and homage to two literary classics in a compelling novel about fate, love and time travel from an award-winning author.

Mo and Crow

Published: March

Mo lives alone and he likes it that way…until Crow comes into his small and tidy life offering friendship. A gorgeous picture book with a powerful message.

Cuckoo's Flight

Published: March

When Clio's town in Bronze Age Crete is threatened by seafaring raiders, she faces the greatest sacrifice of all. Can Clio, her herd of horses and a new young friend find a way to change their destinies? Another wonderfully engaging historical middle fiction adventure from the author of Dragonfly Song and Nim's Island.

Tiger Daughter

Published: February

Wen Zhou is determined to create a future for herself that is more Game PC Rapelay Sex Adult Full Crack than the life her parents expect her to lead. Equal parts heartbreaking and hopeful, Tiger Daughter is a wonderfully compelling and authentic Own Voices novel about growing up Asian in Australia.

Iceberg

Published: February

An iceberg is born into spring and travels through the seasons before dying in a new spring. A stunning, lyrical story for our times, from renowned picture book creators Claire Saxby and Jess Racklyeft.

Ask Hercules Quick

Published: February

A hilarious and entertaining story about Vray 3.6 torrent Archives boy who does a series of odd jobs for his eccentric neighbours, from the current Australian Children's Laureate and the bestselling creators of The Terrible Plop.

Genuine Fraud

Published: January

How far would you go to become someone else? A masterful young adult thriller from the author of blockbuster bestseller We Were Liars.

School Rules Are Optional: The Grade Six Survival Guide 1

Published: November

Jesse is in his final year of primary school and should be living it up as one of the 'Kings', but he can't even get his Prep buddy to follow school rules. A hilarious story of being undervalued and over everything for fans of Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Secrets of a Schoolyard Millionaire.

Catch Me If I Fall

Published: November

Ashleigh and Aiden are thirteen-year-old twins who promise to always look out for each other. Aiden is more dedicated to the task than Ashleigh, but when it comes to matters of life and death, they both exhibit a fierce protectiveness that will change the course of their lives.

Pierre's Not There

Published: November

A girl who transforms into a dog, a magic puppet show with the power to change lives and a story about the mysteries of the imagination from Ursula Dubosarsky, the Australian Children's Laureate.

Dog

Published: November

A beautifully poetic and gorgeously illustrated reflection on the relationship between dogs and humans. Dog is a stand-alone picture book of one of the most-loved stories from the bestselling and internationally acclaimed Tales from the Inner City by Shaun Tan, winner of the Kate Greenaway medal.

The Left-Handed Booksellers of London

Published: September

From the bestselling author of Angel Mage, this ABIA winner set in s London follows one girl's quest to find her father, leading her to a secret society of magical fighting booksellers who police the mythical Old World when it disastrously intrudes into the modern world.

Future Girl

Published: September

Future Girl explores what it means to come of age as a Deaf teenager, against the backdrop of a near-future Melbourne on the brink of environmental catastrophe.

The Stolen Prince of Cloudburst

Published: September

This CBCA Honour Book is a magical tale of mystery and adventure that proves that sometimes even ordinary middle children can be heroes, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, from the bestselling author of The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone and the award-winning The Slightly Alarming Tale of the Whispering Wars.

None Shall Sleep

Published: September

A riveting New York Times bestselling YA thriller that will keep readers on the edge of their seats from start to finish.

The Other Side of the Sky

Published: September

A magnetic and addictive tale of star-crossed love, inexplicable magic and an impossible choice, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Science and faith collide in this tale of magic, destiny and the changing truths found through love by the award-winning authors of the bestselling Starbound trilogy.

Aunty's Wedding

Published: September

A Tiwi-Island girl prepares for Aunty's wedding with help from her maningawu in this vibrant picture book by the popular actor and writers of Top End Wedding and the highly acclaimed illustrator of Alfred's War.

The Erasure Initiative

Published: August

A brilliant psychological thriller from one of Australia's finest YA authors.

Diamonds

Published: August

A thought-provoking conversation about the diamond industry presented in words and pictures by the multi-award-winning creator of The Island and The Mediterranean.

A Clue for Clara

Published: August

Can a scruffy chicken crack a crime? Perhaps, if she's a genius like Clara. An egg-cellent novel about a small chook and a big crime by the highly-acclaimed author of Ella and the Ocean.

Across the Risen Sea

Published: August

Across the Risen Sea is an action-packed, compelling and heartfelt middle-fiction adventure, set in a post-climate change landscape, from the multi-award winning author of How to Bee.

Alphabetical Tashi

Published: July

Meet Tashi, everyone's favourite boy, in this alphabetical journey that introduces readers to the wonderful world of Tashi.

Shoestring, the Boy Who Walks on Air

Published: June

A gripping illustrated adventure about a travelling circus troupe, a future-telling macaw and a cursed pair of gloves that Shoestring must conquer once and for all. A companion to the award-winning KidGlovz.

Yellow Truck Road Train

Published: June

Vibrant artwork and a fabulous read-aloud text about a truck-driving, cattle-wrangling family navigating the roads and changing seasons of the Top End.

Too Many Cheeky Dogs (Bigismob Jigiwan Dog)

Published: June

Rediscover this much loved book featuring the cheeky PassFab for ZIP v8.1.1 crack serial keygen of dogs in a remote outback community, and experience Kriol, a lively language from the north of Australia.

Messi Rules (Football Superstars)

Published: June

Everything the young fan wants to know about Lionel Messi, from his childhood to the present day, including lots of quizzes and facts.

Ronaldo Rules (Football Superstars)

Published: June

Everything the young fan wants to know about Cristiano Ronaldo, from his childhood to the present day, including lots of quizzes and facts.

Peta Lyre's Rating Normal

Published: April

At sixteen, neurodivergent Peta Lyre is the success story of social training. That is, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, until she finds herself on a school ski trip - and falling in love with the new girl. Peta will need to decide which rules to keep, and which rules to break.

Her Perilous Mansion

Published: April

Perfectly pitched standalone middle grade fantasy - exciting, intriguing and thoroughly satisfying.

More than a Kick

Published: April

In MarchTayla Harris went from rising AFLW star to the face of a movement. A photo of her mighty airborne kick was viciously attacked by trolls and Tayla chose to call out the online harassment. Six months later she was unveiling a bronze statue of her kick in the heart of Melbourne, inspiring girls and young women everywhere to stand strong and pursue the things they love.

Landing with Wings

Published: March

A young girl's nature diary is a joyful journey of discovery. From the multi-award-winning creator of Rivertime and Rockhopping comes another celebration of the world around us.

The Astronaut's Cat

Published: March

A delightful story that celebrates the wonders of the Moon, the curiosity of cats and the precious beauty of Earth.

The January Stars

Published: March

This thoroughly Microsoft office product keygen,serial,crack,generator novel about two sisters determined to help their grandfather will delight middle fiction readers of all ages. From the author of the bestselling and much-loved novels Crow Country & Cicada Summer.

There's No Such Thing

Published: March

A funny, warm and reassuring story from the internationally acclaimed creator of I Just Ate My Friend and Baz & Benz.

Deep Water

Published: Movavi Video Converter Crack 21.5 & Activation Key [2021]

A gripping mystery about a missing boy and a group of teenagers who know more than they're telling about the night he disappeared, from the award-winning author of Small Spaces.

Cloudburst

Published: March

Brand new Wilbur Smith series Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen readers of 11+ - starring fourteen-year-old Jack Courtney.

The Vanishing Deep

Published: March

Astrid Scholte, bestselling author of Four Dead Queens, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, brings fans a thrilling new standalone YA fantasy where the dead can be revived…for a price.

Are These Hen's Eggs?

Published: February

A sweet story of friendship and co-operation, unconditional love and a surprising egg hunt.

The Easter Bunnyroo

Published: February

A charming Australian Easter story about an Easter Bunny who turns out to be an Easter Bunnyroo, from a CBCA short-listed author!

The Chicken's Curse

Published: February

The amusing adventures of a runaway boy and girl, and a delightfully self-obsessed Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen chicken, by the bestselling author of Kisses for Daddy.

H is for Happiness

Published: January

Film tie-in edition of My Life as an Alphabet which is now the major Australian film, H is for Happiness. A delightful story of an unusual girl who goes to great lengths to bring love and laughter into the lives of everyone she cares about.

Monster Nanny

Published: January

Mary Poppins meets Where the Wild Things Are in this prize-winning book in which a contemporary family is turned upside-down when a hairy, earth-smelling creature said to be a trained nanny shows up at their doorstep. Soon to be a feature film.

The Beach Wombat

Published: December

An adventurous young wombat finds his way onto the beach before the rain arrives to send him home for dinner!

Paddy T and the Time-travelling Trampoline

Published: November

Paddy is a normal everyday kid, but what happens to him is anything but ordinary - welcome to the surprising, always entertaining world of Paddy T.

Funny Bones

Published: November

A bumper book to tickle your funny bone with over hilarious one-liners, jokes, shaggy dog tales as well as silly stories and wise-cracking cartoons from Australia's favourite comedians, children's authors and illustrators, that raises money for War Child Australia.

The Painted Ponies

Published: November

A little girl whose family runs a travelling show falls in love with some wild poniesbut what will she do when she realises they long to be set free?

The Magnolia Sword

Published: November

Mulan has been drilled in martial arts to fight the duel of her life - but what if her sworn enemy is also her secret love? A heart-thumping retelling that brings a much-loved heroine to life.

Angel Mage

Published: October

From fantasy master Garth Nix comes a new world of angels, heroes, gunpowder and high magic.

Ask Hercules Quick

Published: October

A hilarious and entertaining story about a boy who does a series of odd jobs for his eccentric neighbours, from the bestselling creators of The Terrible Plop.

Mr Chicken All Over Australia

Published: October

Australia is full of big things, and Mr Chicken wants to see them all. A triumph from the Australian Children's Laureate.

Bold Tales for Brave-hearted Boys

Published: October

Kind is the new brave! In this companion to her bestselling Fairytales for Feisty Girls, renowned kid hero and feisty author Susannah McFarlane presents an illustrated collection of 'tilted' fairytales featuring kind boys with big hearts.

Hasina: Through My Eyes

Published: September

A gripping story of one child's experience of the refugee crisis in Myanmar.

The Adventures of Anders

Published: September

A bumper book of fun and adventure in full colour, introducing lovable Anders and his band of intrepid friends.

A Different Land

Published: September

A story of new beginnings in a new land, and a surprising, heartwarming companion to A Different Boy and A Different Dog.

Miss Kraken

Published: September

A bold and funny picture book featuring a highly unusual primary school teacher and her class of badly behaved students, from acclaimed author/illustrator Nicki Greenberg.

Move the Mountains: The Freedom Finders

Published: August

Choose your own destiny and follow the exciting twists and turns of a girl leaving war-torn Italy to find a new home in Australia's Snowy Mountains in the s.

The Surprising Power of a Good Dumpling

Published: August

This compelling young adult novel about growing up in a migrant Asian family with a mother who is suffering from a mental illnesswas short-listed for the Prime Minister's Literary Awards.

Argh! There's a Skeleton Inside You!

Published: August

A funny picture book about a fascinating concept in science, by the highly successful duo who brought us Do Not Lick This Book (it's full of germs) - the award-winning author of Small Wonders, and the animator behind the wildly successful video 'Dumb Ways to Die'.

Ella and the Ocean

Published: August

A very Australian story of drought and renewal, of family, of imagination and of the power of hope.

Kulinmaya! Keep listening, everybody!

Published: August

A magnificent celebration of Kunmanara Williams' life and art and the land rights movement in the Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara (APY) lands of Central Australia.

Impostors

Published: August

Deception. Risk. Betrayal. Redemption. Master storyteller Scott Westerfeld is at the top of his game with another New York Times bestseller.

One Runaway Rabbit

Published: July

A stylish and satisfying picture book about a curious pet rabbit who accidentally escapes the safety of her backyard, and then must survive in the wilds of suburbia at Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen src="alloverlimo.us">

Impossible Music

Published: July

When the song is over, what remains? A novel about rediscovering yourself when everything you once took for granted is gone.

Rabbit's Hop: A Tiger & Friends book

Published: June

Featuring one of the key Apowersoft ApowerMirror 1.4.7.16 With Crack from the bestselling Tiger's Roar, Rabbit's Hop is Rabbit's 'origin story' - a celebration of recognising your strengths, being kind, encouraging others and enjoying friendships and sport. Another funny and inspiring picture book by AFL Premiership player, Alex Rance, and talented children's book illustrator, Shane McG

When Billy Was a Dog

Published: June

If you can't have a puppy, maybe the next best thing is to be a PC Software | Pirate PC src="alloverlimo.us">

Cheeky Dogs: To Lake Nash and Back

Published: June

In this exuberant illustrated memoir, action-packed images and poetic words trace Dion Beasley's fascination with cheeky dogs and his unconventional journey into the world of contemporary art.

Duck Duck Moose

Published: June

Who can resist a gloriously goofy moose? These ducks apparently. Or can they?

When the Ground Is Hard

Published: June

This CBCA short-listed book also won the LA Times Book Prize for Young Adult Literature and is a stunning and heartrending mystery set in a Swaziland boarding school about two girls of different castes who bond over a shared copy of Jane Eyre.

Aurora Rising: The Aurora Cycle 1

Published: May

From the New York Times and internationally bestselling authors of the Illuminae Files comes a new science fiction epic.

My Friend Fred

Published: May

This delightful CBCA award-winning picture book is about a friendship between an exuberant but loveable dachshund and his more retiring, tidy housemate.

Shauna's Great Expectations

Published: May

A fresh and compelling novel about an Aboriginal scholarship student and her surprising final year of school.

Touch the Moon

Published: May

An atmospheric and lyrical story about the moon landing from a uniquely Australian perspective to mark the year anniversary of the moon walk by Phil Cummings, the bestselling author of Anzac Biscuits, illustrated by the award-winning illustrator of One Small Island.

Amundsen's Way

Published: May

What would you do to be the first? The gripping tale of the great Norwegian explorer's courage, determination and ruthlessness in the race to the South Pole.

The Coat

Published: May

This paperback edition of the CBCA Picture book of the year winner tells the story of how a neglected coat and a down-at-heel man experience the joy and magic of creativity.

Storm Whale

Published: May

The highly acclaimed and beautifully illustrated book about three sisters who find a stranded whale on the beach.

A Cat Called Trim

Published: April

A delightful and heartwarming picture book about Matthew Flinders's cat, Trim, from best-selling creators Corinne Fenton and Craig Smith.

The Honeyman and the Hunter

Published: April

Rudra is an Indian-Australian boy at a crossroads, poised to step into the world of adulthood and to discover his cultural heritage and how that might truly define him. A wonderful exploration of dual heritage, cultural identity, family and Boris FX Mocha Pro 2021 v8.0.3 Crack Full Version Download power of storytelling.

Our Little Inventor

Published: April

A gorgeous and inspiring picture book about a young girl, Nell, who invents a machine to fix the pollution that is choking the city.

Me and My Sister

Published: April

A Internet Cyclone 2.28 Crack With Keygen Free Download [2021] of the highs and lows of having a much loved but differently abled brother or sister.

Four Dead Queens

Published: March

A thrilling debut YA fantasy novel for fans of Red Queen and Three Dark Crowns.

Yahoo Creek

Published: March

Luminous images accompanied by newspaper extracts dating back to the early s and words by Ngiyampaa Elder Peter Williams explore the ongoing mystery of yahoo encounters.

Ivanhoe Swift Left Home at Six

Published: March

A lyrical exploration of those bittersweet moments when children first begin to explore the world for themselves.

52 Mondays

Published: March

A new historical novel from Anna Ciddor, in the same beautiful, classic storytelling tradition as The Family With Two Front Doors.

Baz & Benz

Published: March

From the creator of I JUST ATE MY FRIEND, this is a gorgeous and hilarious exploration of enduring friendship.

One Minute's Silence

Published: March

A moving and powerful story about the meaning of Remembrance Day, drawing on the ANZAC and Turkish battle at Gallipoli

Wrestle!

Published: February

A funny book about growing up in a family with two mums inspired by Gus Skattebol-James' story in the award-winning documentary, Gayby Baby.

The Dog Runner

Published: February

From the author of the multi-award-winning and bestselling How to Bee comes an intense and thrilling new adventure.

The House on the Mountain

Published: February

The powerful story of a family who lose their home in a bushfire and their journey of recovery.

Growing Up Muslim in Driver Booster serial key Archives February

In this refreshing and fascinating collection, twelve Muslim-Australians - some well known, some not - reveal their candid, funny and touching stories of growing up with a dual identity.

The Eleventh Trade

Published: November

Refugee Boy for a new generation - a debut novel for 9+ about a young refugee from Afghanistan and his search to find his grandfather's precious musical instrument.

Lenny's Book of Everything

Published: October

A multi-award-winning book about finding good in the bad that will break your heart while raising your spirits in the way that only a classic novel can.

The Slightly Alarming Tale of the Whispering Wars

Published: October

This Queensland Literary Award-winning, CBCA short-listed book is an enchanting and whimsical spell-filled fantasy novel from Jaclyn Moriarty, the highly-acclaimed author of The Extremely Inconvenient Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone.

Noni the Pony Rescues a Joey

Published: October

Come on another adventure with Noni the Pony in this totally delightful rhyming story by the much-loved Alison Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. You may have met Noni already in Noni the Pony and Noni the Pony Goes to the Beach.

Lenny's Book of Everything

Published: October

A multi-award-winning book about finding good in the bad that will break your heart while raising your spirits in the way that only a classic novel can.

Tales from the Inner City

Published: September

A stunning companion to Tales from Outer Suburbia, this collection of illustrated short stories is sure to delight Shaun Tan fans of all ages.

Here Comes Stinkbug!

Published: September

The hilarious story about a smelly bug whose unique talent saves the day.

What the Woods Keep

Published: September

Katya Nero Platinum 2021 Crack + License Key Free Download Becerra's stunning debut combines mystery, science fiction, and dark fantasy in a twisty story that will keep you mesmerized right up to the final page.

Lemonade Jones: Lemonade Jones 1

Published: August

Lemonade Jones likes to ask lots of questions and does not MacDrive 10 Serial Key Archives rules - warm, funny stories for the beginning reader about a girl who likes to ask 'why?'

Morris the Mole

Published: August

Introducing Morris the mole! He's furry, he's funny, he's enthusiastic about all his activities, and he really, REALLY loves to dig. And his single-minded dedication to the task causes all kinds of mischief - and mayhem.

Catching Teller Crow

Published: August

A totally addictive ghost story, crime story and thriller, told half in prose and half in verse, from two of the most exciting Aboriginal voices in Australia.

Fairytales for Feisty Girls

Published: August

Renowned girl hero and feisty author Susannah McFarlane presents an illustrated collection of 'tilted' fairytales featuring girls with smarts.

After the Lights Go Out

Published: July

What happens when the lights go off after what might truly be an end-of-the-world event? How do you stay alive? Who do you trust? How much do you have to sacrifice?

Sonam and the Silence

Published: July

A haunting fable-like story by the well-known musician and author, Eddie Ayres, about the power of music and a young girl in Kabul set during the occupation of the Taliban

Yours Troolie, Alice Toolie

Published: July

Meet Alice Toolie - seriously famous youtootuber, and lead jellyfish in the school jazz ballet - and absolutely not a good friend of Jimmy Cook in this stand-alone humorous story from the CBC award-winning writers of the Captain Jimmy Cook Discovers series.

Swallow's Dance

Published: June

Leira's family flee to the island of Crete just before a huge volcanic eruption destroys their island and sends a tsunami to where they thought they had found safety. Another thrilling adventure by acclaimed author Wendy Orr.

Chalk Boy

Published: June

A soulful and heartwarming story about what happens when a pavement artist's drawing comes to life.

A Song Only I Can Hear

Published: June

Rob has a huge crush on the new girl at school. But Rob is painfully shy and suffers severe panic attacks. How is her heart to be won? Another wonderful and heart-warming comedy drama from the award-winning author of My Life as an Alphabet.

Tiger's Roar

Published: June

An inspiring and hilarious picture book about a Tiger who wants to be his best. A celebration of self-belief, perseverance and teamwork by AFL Premiership player, Alex Rance, and talented children's book illustrator, Shane McG.

Monsters

Published: May

Tildy can see monsters that no one else can see and she sleeps with one eye open, until a new friend at school helps her overcome her fear - a delightful new picture book by the popular picture-book creators of Tashi.

ultimate multi tool gsm v5.4 crack without box Archives Gear

Published: May

The vivid story Adobe Photoshop 2021 22.5 Crack Mac/Windows FREE Download a teenage boy and the road trip that clears his head and his heart.

George Parker Goes Global

Published: May

Super-clever George Parker unexpectedly teams up with super-rich Chase Landon-Bond on an international adventure to rescue Chase's sister. A flat-out funny, mad-cap, strange and joyful mission filled with hijinks and hilarity.

Lifel1k3: Lifel1k3 1 (Lifelike: Lifelike 1)

Published: May

From the co-author of the New York Times bestselling Illuminae Files comes the first book in a new series Native Instruments - Noire v1.1 (KONTAKT) | Download Torrent part Romeo and Juliet, part Terminator, and all adrenaline.

The Learning Curves of Vanessa Partridge

Published: April

At the end of the school year, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, fifteen-year-old high-achieving 'good girl' Vanessa Partridge re-invents herself and seeks out new life experiences as she asserts her independence. A wonderful and funny coming-of-age story set at the beach over the summer holidays.

Shine Mountain

Published: April

An epic adventure from the author of Song for a Scarlet Runner about a girl who finds a magical musical instrument, a boy from a travelling medicine show, and their perilous journey to a mysterious land.

Munmun

Published: April

A pointed, amusing and highly-original story set in an alternate reality wherein every person's physical size is directly proportional to their wealth, by the best-selling author of Me Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen Earl and the Dying Girl.

Brindabella

Published: March

From an extraordinary novelist and an award-winning illustrator comes this lyrical and unforgettable story about a boy and the untameable wildness of a hand-reared joey.

Sam and Ilsa's Last Hurrah

Published: March

A hilarious and heartwarming romp, from The New York Times Bestselling authors of Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist and The Twelve Days of Dash & Lily.

Break Your Chains: The Freedom Finders

Published: March

Choose your own destiny and step into the shoes of an Irish girl making her way from London to Australia in in this exciting interactive series.

Touch the Sun: The Freedom Finders

Published: March

Choose your own destiny and step into the shoes of a Somalian boy escaping war-torn Mogadishu for Australia in in this exciting interactive series.

Digger

Published: February

The poignant story of a toy kangaroo that goes to war with a young man who doesn't come back.

White Night

Published: Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen

Bo Mitchell has little on his mind except school, footy and friends. Rory Wild has grown up on a nearby commune and is attending a 'normal' high school for the first time. Bo is determined to find out everything about her, even her secrets

Sandcastle

Published: February

A story for anyone who likes to spend a day at the beach, and for everyone who has ever pondered the big questions about our place in the universe.

Parvana: A Graphic Novel

Published: February

A stunning graphic novel edition of the internationally bestselling novel and adapted from the Academy Award nominated film 'The Breadwinner'.

The Endsister

Published: Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen

Unforgettable characters, chaotic family life and an intriguing ghost story combine in this funny, absorbing tale of a family who inherit a mansion on the other side of the world.

The Mediterranean

Published: January

Precarious boats navigate the waters of the sea, from south to north. And more often than not, it is not only hope that drowns. A devastating indictment of our society's treatment of refugees by the creator of The Island.

Rain Fall

Published: January

A tense, engaging read that will have you racing through the pages.

The Extremely Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen Adventures of Bronte Mettlestone

Published: October

This CBCA Notable Book is an enchanting and whimsical spell-filled fantasy novel from Jaclyn Moriarty, the award-winning author of Feeling Sorry for Celia and A Corner of White, and suitable for readers who loved A Most Magical Girl.

Swan Lake

Published: October

A magnificent visual retelling of the classic ballet story from a much-loved, award-winning illustrator.

The Red Ribbon

Published: October

Rose, Ella, Marta and Carla. In another life we might all have been friends together. This was Birchwood. For readers of The Diary of Anne Frank and The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.

Stack Attack: D-Bot Squad 5

Published: September

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Deep Dive: D-Bot Squad 6

Published: September

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Meerkat Choir

Published: September

The meerkat choirmaster will only allow meerkats in his choir. But singing is fun and all the other animals want to join in too. A wonderfully funny picture book about the folly of excluding others from your group.

Pea Pod Lullaby

Published: August

A glorious, heartfelt story about finding a safe place to call home, Mr. Matt v2.06 32-bit License Number crack serial keygen award-winning book creators Glenda Millard and Stephen Michael King.

The Cursed First Term of Zelda Stitch. Bad Teacher. Worse Witch.

Published: August

Imagine if you read your teacher's diary and discovered she was a witch! With courage, imagination and a certain amount of recklessness, Zelda Stitch begins her first year of teaching primary school - as an incompetent (incognito) witch.

The Children of Willesden Lane

Published: August

A true story of courage and survival during World War II, and a celebration of the power of music to lift the human spirit.

The Amber Amulet

Published: July

You're in safe hands - The Masked Avenger and Richie the Power Beagle are here to protect you! A brilliant jewel of a book from the acclaimed, bestselling author of Jasper Jones.

Gap Year in Ghost Town

Published: July

Anton Marin and his father are on high alert after a spike in ghost manifestations. Anton wants to help the ghosts. Rani Cross wants to slice and dice them. And they both need to work together to keep the city safe. A smart, snappy, funny and scary ghost-hunting adventure.

Sparrow

Published: July

An exceptional and compelling novel from one of Australia's most acclaimed and much-loved authors.

Dino Hunter: D-Bot Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen 1

Published: June

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, using words they can read.

Sky High: D-Bot Squad 2

Published: June

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Double Trouble: D-Bot Squad 3

Published: June

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators of the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

Big Stink: D-Bot Squad 4

Published: June

A super-exciting series about DINOSAUR ROBOTS for first readersfrom the creators Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen the bestselling Boy vs Beast series. A world kids will love, using words they can read.

My Lovely Frankie

Published: June

A masterful, moving story about a teenage boy caught between faith and love, by one of Australia's finest YA writers.

Do not lick this book

Published: June

A brilliantly simple, funny, interactive picture book that introduces children to the strange, unseen world of microbes all around them by the award-winning author of Small Wonders and the animator of the insanely successful video 'Dumb Ways to Die' featuring scanning electron microscope images by Linnea Rundgren.

Living on Hope Street

Published: May

A young adult novel that xplane 11 a light on contemporary society. With unforgettable characters, this heartfelt novel explores cross-cultural friendships, difficult family relationships, racism and Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen src="alloverlimo.us">

My Life as a Hashtag

Published: May

From the highly acclaimed author of The Guy, the Girl, the Artist and His Ex comes this funny, heartfelt novel about rage, regret and the pitfalls of life in the digital age.

A Different Dog

Published: April

The gripping and surprising story of a boy, a dog and a daring rescue from the bestselling, much-loved author of the Don't Look Now series and The Unforgettable What's His Name.

Into the White

Published: April

The enthralling and harrowing true story of Robert Falcon Scott's ill-fated Terra Nova Expedition, with evocative photographs, and illustrations by Sarah Lippett.

How to Bee

Published: April

A story about family, loyalty, kindness and bravery, set against an all-too-possible future where climate change has forever changed the way we live.

Say Yes

Published: March

A story about how the events surrounding the historic Referendum played out in the everyday lives of two young girls.

The Blue Cat

Published: March

From the multi-award-winning author of The Red Shoe comes a haunting story about a boy who can't - or won't - speak about his past in war-torn Europe, and his friendship with a young Australian girl.

The Things We Promise

Published: February

Gemma's older brother Billy made her a promise that he would ensure she looked fabulous for her first school formal. But his circumstances change dramatically and Billy's promise becomes the least of the family's concerns.

The Grand, Genius Summer of Henry Hoobler

Published: January

The warm-hearted story of Henry Hoobler and the summer when a new friend, a silver bike and unexpected adventures turn him inside out like a pocket, into something new - laugh-out-loud funny and moving, from the author of my My Big Birkett.

Jasper Jones

Published: November

Full of unforgettable characters, a page-turning pace and outrageously good dialogue, this is a glorious novel - thoughtful, funny, heartbreaking and wise - about outsiders and secrets, and what it really means to be a hero.

When the Lyrebird Calls

Published: October

A time-slip novel in which Madeleine finds herself transported back to Australia, where she befriends a family of girls and is witness to a family secret and a family tragedy.

Small Things

Published: August

A stunning graphic novel from an extraordinarily talented illustrator. On the cusp Pubg steam crack serial keygen having everything slip from his grasp, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, a young boy has to find a way to rebuild his sense of self.

Freedom Swimmer

Published: August

This incredible tale about two boys' swim from mainland China to Hong Kong in search of freedom from poverty and oppression is inspired by a true story.

Promising Azra

Published: July

Azra's dreams of finishing high school in Sydney and going to university are threatened by her uncle's plans to marry her off to an older cousin she has never met - will she have to choose between her family and her happiness?

The Boundless Sublime

Published: July

Ruby Jane Galbraith is an ordinary girl seeking peace in the wake of family tragedy. Her search leads her into a community that seems guided by love. And it's only after she's drawn into its web that she learns its sinister secrets.

Dragonfly Song

Published: June

Abandoned by the priestess of the island at birth, Aissa is an outcast, surviving by her wits - until she joins the acrobatic bull dancers who are sent away to compete on the island of the Bull King. A gripping and powerful adventure by acclaimed author Wendy Orr.

Forgetting Foster

Published: June

The powerful story of a young boy whose father develops Alzheimer's disease, from the highly acclaimed author of A Small Madness.

Game Theory

Published: May

Jamie's sister has been kidnapped. And Jamie is convinced he can save her using the principles of game theory. But is strategy the best option when his little sister's life is at stake? A hugely compelling YA thriller.

Boomerang and Bat

Published: April

The first Australian cricket team to tour England was a group of Aboriginal stockmen. This is their story.

Milo

Published: March

A sweet and funny story about a city-dwelling dog, a day when everything goes wrong, a curious rescue and a surprising gift.

Dreaming the Enemy

Published: March

Two young Vietnam War veterans who fought on opposing sides return home, struggling to recover from their experience. A moving story of trauma, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, resilience and the challenging road to recovery.

Rockhopping

Published: March

The story of an eventful hike in Gariwerd (the Grampians), from the creator of the multi-award-winning Rivertime.

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

How To Use Microsoft office Product Key

To using MS officeyour system needs to fulfill some of the requirements.

  • Go to this link  to find out the requirement and then jump to the steps.
  • Click the plus sign in the upper right corner of the same page.
  • Enter your Outlook email address and password to download the settings.
  • Lastly, enter the product key from the list bellow and enjoy Office

For more help click here: alloverlimo.us

Free Product Key Office Pro Plus 

6KTFN-PQH9H T8MMB-YG8KTX

2MNJP-QY9KX-MKBKM-9VFJ2-CJ9KK

2B8KN-FFK6J-YWMV4-J3DYYF29

DMXHM-GNMM3-MYHHK-6TVT2-XTKKK

X2YWD-NWJPGD6-M37DP-VFP9K

N2PXV8HD-W9MHF-VQHHH-M4D6X

N7PXY-WR4XP-D4FGK-K66JH-CYQ6X

FBFPP-2XG5Y-FG9VH-DVQ2Z-QJRCH

P8TFP-JGFMM-XPV3X-3FQMK4RP

2MHJR-V4MR2-V4Z2YMQ7-KC6XK

HC-BM4VK-TZBB8-MVZH8-FXR32

KDVQM-HMNFJ-P9PJXHDF-DJYGX

NX-BQ62X-PQT9G-GPX4H-VT7TX

4HNBKMH-6CR6P-GQ6WP-J42C9

6KTFN-PQH9H T8MMB-YG8KTX

KBDNM-R8CD9-RKWFM3X-C7GXK

MH2KNKYR-GTRD4-KBKP4-Q9JP9

2MNJP-QY9KX-MKBKM-9VFJ2-CJ9KK

N4M7D-PD46X-TJ2HQ-RPDD7-T28P9

NK8RVXCQ 3M2FMR-WFD6X

Active Office Personal Product Key

VQCRC-J4GTW-T8XQW-RX6QG-4HVG4

VTM6G-YPQ9Q-BVYJQRYH-R4X38

X2YWD-NWJPGD6-M37DP-VFP9K

4HNBKMH-6CR6P-GQ6WP-J42C9

GPT9W-CWNJK-KB29G-8V93J-TQ

NK8RVXCQ 3M2FMR-WFD6X

PBTFM-WWN3H-2GD9X-VJRMG-C9VTX

N4M7D-PD46X-TJ2HQ-RPDD7-T28P9

DJC4N-DX7PC-GM3GK-V8KKW-XWYGX

MTDNG-PDDGD-MHMV4-F2MBY-RCXKK

46DNX-B4QPQVPW-Q8VM6-FVR29

GYWDG-NMV9PHR-Y2VQW-YPXKK

2MNJP-QY9KX-MKBKM-9VFJ2-CJ9KK

N7PXY-WR4XP-D4FGK-K66JH-CYQ6X

NX-BQ62X-PQT9G-GPX4H-VT7TX

MH2KNKYR-GTRD4-KBKP4-Q9JP9

N2PXV8HD-W9MHF-VQHHH-M4D6X

7TPNM-PMWKF-WVHKV-GH-9BQ6X

DMXHM-GNMM3-MYHHK-6TVT2-XTKKK

XRNFT-HG2FV-G74BP-7PVDC-JB29K

6KTFN-PQH9H T8MMB-YG8KTX

6HDB9-BNRGY-J3FCF43C-D67TX

2B8KN-FFK6J-YWMV4-J3DYYF29

KBDNM-R8CD9-RKWFM3X-C7GXK

WTFN9-KRCBV-2VBBH-BCGXM

KDVQM-HMNFJ-P9PJXHDF-DJYGX

PNP4F-KY64B-JJF4P-7R7JXJP9

G9N3P-GRJK6-VM63J-F9MKHGXK

NF-H7TMK-TPMPK-W4FGW-7FP9K

Product Key Office Personal Version Key

3W3MQ-H7M6X-3WYP7-TPCHG8T2

VB48G-H6VK9-WJ93D-9R6RM-VP7GT

Product Key  Office Personal Licence Key

VKCK7XK4-J7CTQ-FD98Q-VJW4R

P8TFP-JGFMM-XPV3X-3FQMK4RP

2MHJR-V4MR2-V4W2YMQ7-KC6XK

Product Key For Microsoft Office

B9GN2-DXXQC-9DHKT-GGWCR-4X6XK

N7PXY-WR4XP-D4FGK-K66JH-CYQ6X

4HNBKMH-6CR6P-GQ6WP-J42C9

2MNJP-QY9KX-MKBKM-9VFJ2-CJ9KK

2B8KN-FFK6J-YWMV4-J3DYYF29

XRNFT-HG2FV-G74BP-7PVDC-JB29K

N4M7D-PD46X-TJ2HQ-RPDD7-T28P9

FCMXC-RDWMP-RFGVD-8TGPD-VQQ2X

PBTFM-WWN3H-2GD9X-VJRMG-C9VT

6KTFN-PQH9H T8MMB-YG8KTX

DJC4N-DX7PC-GM3GK-V8KKW-XWYGX

DJDDFKD9-FJD94JDFJKD94JD

DJKSE-DFJSDFJKD94JD-DJKD94JD

6PMNJ-Q33T3-VJQFJD3H-6XVTX

PGDJN23K-JGVWW-KTHP4-GXR9G

MT7YN-TMV9C-7DDXWB7R4D

Click here to check the lastest Free Product Key

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

Category: Office

Svi uredski softver i alati i Microsoft Office
Dostupan je ovdje

Remote Desktop Manager Enterprise With Crack

Remote Desktop Manager Enterprise Serial Key: Omogućuje vam centralizirati sve vaše udaljene veze, lozinke i vjerodajnice u jedinstvenu platformu koju ljudi vole raditi

PDF Replacer Pro With Crack

PDF Replacer Crack je PDF tekst koji zamjenjuje uslužni program za softver na temelju sustava Windows. S ovim zgodnim alatom možete jednostavno zamijeniti tekst u više pdf

Modern CSV With Crack

Moderna CSV Crack je fino podešena aplikacija, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen. Dobro je razvijena i, u ovom trenutku, također bez designing Archives - Malik Softs. To znači da nećete naći bilo kakve performanse

WYSIWYG Web Builder With Crack

WYSIWYG WEB Builder Crack daje veliku raznolikost vrhunaca za stvaranje živih mjesta. To podrazumijeva da nikada više ne zahtijevaju mnogo vremena

Next FlipBook Maker Pro With Crack

Sljedeći Flipbook Maker Pro licencni ključ besplatno preuzimanje je Flash / HTML5 interaktivna softverska aplikacija. Pretvorite PDF u interaktivne i realne brošure u Flash i HTML5

VMware Workstation Pro Build (x64) Lite With Crack

VMware Workstation Pro Key je jedan od najboljih hipervisor ili VMM (virtualni strojnica) diljem svijeta. Ona podržava Windows operativni sustav kao

ProPresenter () With Crack

PROPRESENTER Crack je ime moćnog softvera u profesionalnom području multimedijske prezentacije. Kao što znate, Microsoftov službeni alat PowerPoint je prihvaćen od strane

OfficeSuite Premium With Crack

Officesoite Premium ključ pruža alate za uredu s čistim izgledom i jednostavnim opcijama. Program vam omogućuje stvaranje, pregled, pretvaranje i uređivanje riječi, Excel i

Office C2R Install / Install Lite (Windows And Activator)

Office C2R Instalacija - Ovaj program omogućuje odabir / instaliranje željene aplikacije, za razliku od C2R originalnog sustava Office Installer i aktiviranje alloverlimo.us stupca instalira

DeepL Pro With Crack

Deepl Pro Crack - brže, Vole PDF Creator Pro Edition - Jan 2021 crack serial keygen, sigurnije, bolje. Oslobodite punu snagu najboljeg svjetskog online prevoditelja za vas i vaš tim. Isprobajte

Источник: [alloverlimo.us]

Notice: Undefined variable: z_bot in /sites/alloverlimo.us/games/vole-pdf-creator-pro-edition-jan-2021-crack-serial-keygen.php on line 99

Notice: Undefined variable: z_empty in /sites/alloverlimo.us/games/vole-pdf-creator-pro-edition-jan-2021-crack-serial-keygen.php on line 99

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *