BlackStar

When a writer is first shaping a new character, it’s often first instinct to make a character either “smart but weak” or “dumb but strong.” This stereotypical assignment of attributes is designed to give characters a strength and a weakness, to have them be strong in one respect but flawed in another. The problem with this attribute distribution arises because it is simply not realistic, especially when every character in the story is designed in such a way. Real people have a slew of talents and weaknesses, some of which are very specific. It is too broad to say, “My character is weak but very smart.” Is he weak at jumping? Or is he just weak when it comes to lifting heavy objects? This lack of specificness leads to very one dimensional characters who all share the same weaknesses and strengths. To illustrate this, let’s make up a few characters and see how their strengths and weaknesses play out.

We have a young fighter named Alec. He’s very smart, a genius in fact, but he is small and thin, with no physical strength to speak of. He easily defeats stupid opponents with his cunning, but those whose intelligence rivals his pose a huge problem. So then his friend, the unintelligent but strong Karl, steps into the fight. While Alec distracts them, Karl is able to crush the opponents with his brute strength and speed. It might seem as though this scenario will result in constant victories for Alec and Karl. but what happens if Karl is somehow wounded or killed? He’s in the thick of combat, so unless the author ignores all realism Karl will, at some point, be injured. Here the problem arises. The only other person who can help Karl fight is his twin sister Anna. She also is very smart, but has absolutely no brawn. Now Alec is at a disadvantage and, unless they somehow manage to create a very clever plan that will allow them to escape their superior opponent uninjured and with their fallen companion, they will lose the battle.

Thus, the author hems himself in by creating characters with such imbalances. The characters’ strengths and weaknesses, because of how inflexible they are, prevents them from being put in situations with other characters who share their same weaknesses. Characters therefore become plot devices, only being able to function in very limited ways. This gives the whole story a stiff, one dimensional feeling.

Take, for example, Eragon from the Inheritance Cycle. At the beginning of the story Paolini makes it clear Eragon is not physically gifted, being only a “weak” human. But through his own character’s extremely broad weaknesses, Paolini backs himself into a corner. Galbatorix, Eragon’s enemy, is written to seem invincible both through his cunning and in his strength. Eragon on the other hand is a weak human, who cannot defeat even the weakest of elves. In order to make Eragon strong enough to defeat Galbatorix, Paolini has to resort to a deus ex machina, giving Eragon the physical prowess of an elf. In doing so he causes two problems: One, Eragon no longer has any obvious weaknesses or shortcomings. He is a super human, one that readers cannot relate to. Two, in order to have tension in the final battle against Galbatorix, Paolini will have to make Galbatorix even stronger than Eragon (who is already infinitely above normal human levels of strength), pushing the reader’s limits of belief in the story. It will cause the reader to set down the book with a snort, saying, “Yeah, right,” simply because the strengths of the characters and their lack of weaknesses leaves no room for any struggle that the reader can relate to.

In order to prevent characters and subsequently the entire story from becoming inflexible and improbable, the author simply needs to diversify his characters. Rather than have Alec be weak but smart, let’s make him a poor runner. Thus his weakness is brought down to a more specific, natural level. No longer is he necessarily incapable of any physical strength, making him more flexible as a character. And maybe saying he is an all around genius isn’t a good idea either. Giving him a more specific talent, such as being a good strategist, not only makes him easier to relate to but also makes him more valuable as a character. It gives him individuality and prevents him from becoming an omniscient character who must have no weaknesses in order to win.

Having characters with a diverse range of talents and weaknesses is just as important as having characters with a broad spectrum of vices and virtues. Just as a character, in order to be realistic, needs to have good traits and bad, he also needs to have areas in which he excels and areas where he is flawed. This creates a realistic, well balanced character who is not limited in large areas and thus becomes more useful and flexible.

Comment [8]

I was reading Hanceek’s In Defense of Eragon article the other day and it got me to thinking once again about the value of the Inheritance Cycle. While I feel that arguing that the books are good books technically is pointless, because they aren’t, I can explain why I (and many other people) at one point really enjoyed the series.

When I was twelve, I discovered the Inheritance cycle. I devoured Eragon, Eldest, and, when it came out, Brisingr. I wished I could use magic and be a Dragon Rider, read as many fanfics as I could find, and couldn’t stop thinking about how excited I was for the fourth book. I considered myself a huge fan.

A year or so after my initial infatuation with the series, I discovered the Inheritance [re]Cycle article here on II. Reading it marked the beginning of my disenchantment with the Inheritance cycle. I realized the series I’d worshipped really wasn’t that great after all, and as I spent time reading Swankivy’s essays and the content on AS, I started to wonder why I ever liked the series in the first place. Now when I the books, I see most everything (especially the writing style: dialogue, description, word choice, etc.) in a different light— it’s often painfully inane and pretentious. But once upon a time I thought it was amazing. So the purpose of the article is to try to explain why I thought it was so magnificent, even though I now acknowledge its crapiness. These points are my own and I am in no way attempting to imply that these reasons are exactly why everyone who ever has liked these books has liked them.

1) Let’s face it, when you’re a kid, ridiculously overpowered characters are badass and easily made into role models.
As any fan of Dragon Ball may tell you, really, really powerful characters can be very cool. Watching as the hero progresses from an average joe (or something to that effect) to an incredibly strong and cool badass is actually quite inspirational. For me, I thought it was really exciting that Eragon went from being a nobody to one of the most important people in his world. It wasn’t really about his actual actions or character so much as just the idea that someone could rise up into this world of epic magic and dragons and adventure. In a sense, Eragon was a role model of sorts, because reading about how he became so important inspired me to want to become a somebody too.
2) Ah, the appeal of sword and sorcery.
Dragons, special swords, magic, telepathy, battles, immortality. They’re all staples of the fantasy genre, and seem to be intrinsically epic. I attribute my liking of Inheritance for this reason to be because I hadn’t read much traditional fantasy besides Tolkien when I first discovered the Inheritance cycle (therefore it didn’t seem stale or reused to me.) Reading about all these epic abilities and creatures fed my imagination, and it was exciting to put myself in the characters’ places and imagine castings spells and flying on a dragon’s back and partying with the elves.
3) Hot characters and romance.
Yes, I’m bringing this up. I was a fangirl. Have mercy on me. But basically, with Paolini’s constant referencing of the attractiveness of the elven population in general, and then the way that Eragon, Murtagh, and Arya especially were described kind of made me crush on them. (Does it help that after his psuedo-elven transformation I imagined Eragon to look like Link from the Legend of Zelda? fangirl) Also, and again I blame my adolescence, I found Eragon and Arya’s relationship to be really dramatic and tense and eagerly anticipated the next development, whether it was their getting closer romantically or not. It was kind of like a soap opera to me, now that I think about it… (shudder.)
4) ADVENTURE.
The structure of the Inheritance books, where the POV characters are always traveling from place to place, was attractive to me because of how much adventuring and exploration they were doing. I’ve always wanted to travel extensively, so it sort of enabled me to live vicariously through them and go on a quest through new and epic lands. As Eragon met the different races of Alagaesia, explored the “secret” dwarven and elven kingdoms, and learned about other cultures, it made me feel like I was exploring and learning too.
5) I hate to bring up the age card, but I’m going to.
Paolini’s age should not make people perceive the books as being of better quality, but it did change my perception of them in the sense that it inspired me to start writing more myself. I’d always enjoyed creative writing, but I started writing my first novel after researching Paolini and learning that he was only a few years older than I was at the time when he started Eragon. So in that sense, I enjoyed the books because they made me realize that even as a kid I could write a whole book (even if that something might not be very good. And my first novel was horrendous.)

These are all the reasons I can think of to explain why I enjoyed the Inheritance Cycle. I feel kind of embarrassed when I recall how much I liked them, but I think it’s worthwhile to consider what makes people enjoy them. To be fair, I still read parts of Eragon and Eldest, but I don’t have the mindless affection for them that I once did.

Comment [16]

What am I sporking? Water Keep, the first book in the Farworld series, by J. Scott Savage. Here’s a link to its lovely cover.

The synopsis on the inside cover reads:

Other people may see thirteen-year-old Marcus Kanenas as an outcast and a nobody, but he sees himself as a survivor and a dreamer. In fact, his favorite dream is of a world far away, a world where magic is as common as air, where animals tell jokes, and where trees beg people to pick their fruit. He even has a name for this place- Farworld.

When Marcus magically travels to Farworld, he meets Kyja, a girl without magic in a world where spells, charms, and potions are everywhere, and Master Therapass, a master wizard who has kept a secret hidden for thirteen years, a secret that could change the fate of two worlds. But the Dark Circle has learned of Master Therapass’s secret and their evil influence and power are growing. Farworld’s only hope is for Marcus and Kyja to find the mythical Elementals- water, land, air, and fire- and convince them to open a drift between the worlds.

As Kyja and Marcus travel to Water Keep, they must face the worst the evil Dark Circle can throw at them- Summoners, who can command the living and the dead; Unmakers, invisible creatures that can destroy both body and soul; and dark mages known as Thrathkin S’Bae. Along the way, Marcus and Kyja will discover the truth about their own heritage, the strength of their friendship, and the depths of their unique powers.

Well then…

Chapter 1 – Bonesplinter

We begin with an…odd…scene.

Bundled safe in her underground burrow with eight fuzzy babies snuggled against her warm body, the ishkabiddle woke to a curious rumbling.

Isn’t it a bit redundant to say an underground burrow? The word burrow implies that it’s underground, but maybe I’m just being picky. I have no idea what an ishkabiddle is, either, but hopefully we’ll find out more. The ishkabiddle gets startled by a loud rumbling and crawls out of her burrow to go check it out.

Somewhere far off a bird screeched, but that wasn’t what was making the ground tremble so the tops of the grass shivered to and fro.

Well, that was awkwardly worded. The ishkabiddle sends out some specks of something from her body that supposedly help her to detect nearby predators. The process isn’t explained too well- the description made me envision a mushroom releasing its spores, which may or may not be what Savage intended.

She doesn’t find anything and is about to go back to her burrow when THE GROUND EXPLODES. It’s a giant snake! Whose body as thick as a “mature tree trunk”! It slithers over to the ishkabiddle.

“Boo!” the snake said, and the ishkabiddle’s muscles turned to water.

Boo? How intimidating. The snake then transforms into a man in a hooded cape. The cape is described as flowing, but I fail to see how a cape can flow. He has a forked staff! He must be Evil™!

“Lucky for you, I’ve already had dinner,” he whispered with dark mirth.

Not just mirth, but DARK mirth. He’s definitely Evil™. The guy goes to a rocky outcropping and he uses his staff to open a pathway into the rock, which he then goes down into. Oh yeah, he has dry lips and night vision. More signs of Evilness™. Although night vision can also be a sign of Sue-ness, too.

He walks into a room where a figure that’s said to resemble an owl is standing. It stinks of rotten meat and is covered in mold. That’s some pleasant imagery to draw the reader in with. The owl creature and the man exchange some standard issue underling to underling chatter about the man hurrying to meet their “master.” He then goes up a staircase and some rabid bone dogs come out of nowhere and walk alongside him. He comes into a hall that’s really hot and makes him sweaty. He goes to the center of the room and kneels down and speaks to an unseen person.

“Approach,” said a voice that sounded like the sizzle of hot steel plunged into icy water.

I have no idea a voice like that would sound like.

He gets up and walks foward through smoke which clears when he reaches some steps and lets him see a pair of weird looking animals who are “watching him hungrily.”

Summoners. Terrifying creatures of mythic power. Even with bony wings folded against the sides of their red, serpent-like bodies and thick, magicallly-enhanced chains locked around their necks, they made the spit in his mouth dry up.

Was “they made the spit in his mouth dry up” really the best way Savage could think to show he was afraid of them? It really just sounds disgusting. But hey. We get a short recap of the stories told about these Summoners and their magic powers, which include driving people insane with only a glance and making the ground swallow up people. He’s impressed because his master can control both of them, which supposedly shows that he’s really, really powerful.

“Master, what is it you desire of me?” he asked, dropping to his knees. He tried to hide the eagerness in his voice, but he could do nothing about the way his heart thumped like a trapped animal in his chest.

That doesn’t sound dirty at all. Nope. His master spends an entire paragraph talking about something he’s been looking for in an incredibly vague way. Even the man doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. He has to spend a minute trying to remember. He finally figures out his master is talking about a mysterious child who apparently suffered “mortal” wounds but didn’t die. And then he reveals he’s found not only the child, but another one as well!

“Two children?” The man licked his lips, trying to decide what to make of the unexpected news. How would this play out? Was the Master giving him another chance to prove himself? To show he could be trusted with more responsibility?

This revelation has no meaning to us, because we have no idea who they’re talking about. His inner questions make no sense, and they’re choppily written. Because we don’t know anything at this point, this entire scene has little gravity to it. It’s much like the scene at the beginning of Eragon, where Arya is pursued by Durza. It could have been a dramatic, tense scene, if we had had any knowledge of or emotional investment in the characters.

Also, the man has a scar on his face. I imagine we’ll learn more about where he got that from, since he keeps touching it all the time. His master then commands him to go to Earth and capture “the boy.” A withered hand comes out of the darkness and the man kisses the ring on one of the fingers.

“Bonesplinter,” the voice said, and the man thought he heard the sound of a tongue rasp across paper-dry lips. “You have been my most faithful Thrathkin S’Bae for many years. Once you find the boy, do as you will with him. Just be sure he is dead when you are finished.”

And so, we learn that the man is named Bonesplinter, which is quite an Evil name. He’s a Thrathkin S’Bae, but the meaning of the term is not given in the chapter. Looking back to the synopsis, a Thrathkin S’Bae is supposedly a dark mage. Bonesplinter’s mission is to go and kill some boy that we haven’t seen yet. Why? It’s not explained. Hopefully it will be soon. Also, I’m starting to think Savage has a fetish for dry lips.

Comment [19]

Chapter 2 – The Freak

Bonesplinter was pretty freaky…. But it’s not him we’re talking about this time.

We start with a cliched scene of some schoolyard bullies. The leader is a teenage boy named Chet Hawkins. He’s the typical bully through and through: he calls his gang losers to their faces, has apparently been held back a grade, is bulky, and has freckles. He and his lackeys are putting some soapy water on the floor boards and waiting for someone.

“Gimme that.” Pete Lampson, a gawky, twelve-year-old boy with greasy black hair and a neck like an underfed turkey, yanked the mop from Squint, the smaller boy standing next to him.

Squint is such a beautiful name. Everything about these kids is clichéd and unoriginal. They’re mean, unhygienic, and stupid. Seems there’s a trend with the antagonistic characters thus far- all of them have been physically repellent/unattractive/unkempt. While we’ve not seen the protagonists yet, I’m willing to bet all or most of them are much, much more attractive and polished.

Chet reveals that the person they’re trying to prank is disabled and forced to be in a wheelchair. They’re pretty cruel, aren’t they? We get some cheesy dialogue between the bullies.

“Don’t forget,” Chet whispered. “As soon as the kid comes through the door, Pete and I will grab him while you two throw his wheelchair down the stairs.”

“Then, pow!” Squint said, punching his fist into his palm with a nasty giggle.

“Right.” Chet nodded with a wicked grin. “Everybody gets a shot at him. Just make sure I get the first punch.”

No teenage guys I have ever known talk like this. What was Savage thinking when he wrote this? Having once been a teenager himself, I would expect that Savage could write a scene between a couple of boys like this better. And why do they keep giggling and smiling evilly? We get that what they’re doing is wrong. We don’t need to be hit over the head again and again with their Evilness.

Suddenly a squeaky wheelchair is heard and all the boys go and hide. We learn that Chet beats up every newbie at the school they go to. The text is unclear, but I’m assuming they’re currently at the school right now. We get an info dump about how this disabled kid has been able to avoid their pranks several times before this. He had gone into a room when they were waiting for him, then simply disappeared once he was out of sight. How that’s possible when he’s in a wheelchair that squeaks, I’m not sure. But there you have it.

The plan was to grab the kid as he came out of the dormitory. They’d push his chair down the stairs, give him a major beating, and tell everyone it had been an accident. They’d been mopping the floor when the wheels of the kid’s chair slipped in the soapy water and he fell out of his chair. Oops.

Do groups of boys at this school usually spend their free time cleaning floors? Wouldn’t they usually do that as an, I don’t know, punishment? Which would mean they should have a teacher or other adult watching over them, making sure they get it done. Which also leads to another question. How have these kids managed to beat up every new person at their school and still be under so little suspicion as to have a convincing argument for how they just happened to be mopping when the disabled new kid comes along? Also, beating someone up tends to leave different marks than if they just fell down the stairs. These kids (or Savage) must be too stupid to realize this.

See how the baby will get around with his wittle chair broken in a dozen pieces, Chet thought. And if the freak gives us any trouble this time, he might go over the stairs right behind it.

I don’t think anyone really thinks this way. Also, Chet is supposed to be sixteen. Just thought I’d put that out there.

All the while this internal monologue is going on, the squeaking of the wheelchair is getting louder and louder. Suddenly the wheelchair appears in the hallway and the bullies throw it down the stairs, only to realize after they’ve done that that the boy who it belongs to wasn’t in it. They decide he must have hidden in the dormitory and pushed it toward them, so they head for the dorm room. They don’t see the kid, so they look under the beds but don’t find him.

“He ain’t there.”

“That’s impossible,” Chet said, cracking his big red knuckles. “What the-” he began. Before he could complete his sentence, something hard cracked against the back of his head. He turned in time to see a mop handle rise high in the air and swing toward him again. This time the mop caught him squarely on the nose, creating a flash of purple and yellow light before his eyes.

A mop beats him up. A mop. Am I the only one who is reminded of that scene in the Disney movie Fantasia where Mickey Mouse enchants a bunch of brooms that go crazy and start attacking him? I wonder if Savage intended for the reader to think of that.

The chapter ends there. For suspense, I imagine.

Comment [51]

The epic(?!) saga continues.

Chapter 3 – Now You See Him

Now you don’t! (hides behind a wall)

The chapter opens with description of Marcus Kanenas, one of the main characters of the book. He’s the disabled kid who the bullies in the previous chapter tried (and failed miserably) to attack.

Marcus Kanenas, a thirteen-year-old boy with scruffy, reddish-brown hair, sat on the worn hallway floor in patched blue jeans and a school T-shirt that still looked new and stiff. The shirt hung like a sail on his skinny frame and narrow shoulders. His right arm, which held the mop tucked under it, was corded with wiry muscle from years of pushing himself around in his wheelchair. By comparison, his left arm, withered and weak, looked like a broken chicken wing with the left three fingers tucked into a permanent fist.

Marcus’s name is a lot more special sounding than every other normal person we’ve seen thus far. Chet and Pete are normal, average names. Marcus Kanenas on the other hand is just…special sounding. I guess because he’s a main character he needs a fancy name. One (or maybe both, it wasn’t clear) of his legs is damaged, which is why he’s in a wheelchair.

Marcus has a short stare-down with the gang, then shouts “en garde!” and thrusts his mop towards them.

The imagery is just not working.

“How’d the freak get over there?” Pete crowed.

He crowed? What is he, a rooster?

Marcus somehow manages to mop the floor (see what I did there) with Beaver, Squint, and Pete. Then Chet, who’s been spacing out since he got whacked on the nose, snaps out of it.

Focusing his eyes on Marcus like a bull taking aim at a matador’s cape, he rubbed the purple goose egg on his nose.

Though I know Savage means a large welt, I’m now imagining that there is an actual purple egg on Chet’s nose. Teehee.

The next page and a half just has Marcus fending off Chet, until Chet finally manages to grab the mop. Then Marcus rolls into Chet’s legs and knocks him down the stairs. The chapter ends there.

Chapter 4- Crime and Punishment

No, not that Crime and Punishment.

We’re introduced to a new character- Principal Teagarden. We get the requisite description of him, though he probably will never show up again:

The principal was a tall, stork-like man with wintry gray eyes and rimless glasses that balanced on the end of his sharp nose. Thinning hair was combed in a complicated pattern on top of his scalp to disguise the fact that he’d been mostly bald for the last five years.

What is with Savage’s obsession with comparing characters to birds? In the first chapter, there was that creepy owl-like villain, and now we have a principal who resembles a stork. I find it interesting that the author felt the need to point out that he’d been balding for “the last five years.” This is being told from Marcus’s point of view- who we know is new to the school- so how could he tell that the principal hasn’t had a full head of hair in five years?

Then it’s revealed that principal is CHET’S UNCLE!!!! HOW WILL THIS ALTERCATION PLAY OUT NOW?!!!

As is to be expected, Chet tries to blame Marcus for the trouble.

“It was his fault. We were just mopping the floor like you asked us to when he came wheeling out of nowhere and knocked me down the stairs.”

Teagarden wants to know if this is true. Marcus decides Chet’s gang will eventually get revenge if he blames them, so he decides to take the blame to avoid further trouble. He tells Teagarden it was an accident.

“An accident?” the principal bellowed. “An accident?” There are no such things as accidents at Philo T. Justice. There are only rule-keepers and rule-breakers. And you [sic] Mr…..Mr….”

“Kanenas,” Marcus murmured, keeping his eyes lowered.

“You are a rule-breaker.” The principal pulled out his handkerchief and blotted his red cheeks. “You race around on this contraption of yours,” he said [sic] giving Marcus’s wheelchair a distasteful nudge with the tip of his shoes, “and you endanger the lives of every other boy in this school. I’ve got a good mind to-”

This confrontation has a couple of glaring faults to it. First of all, the kids were told to mop the floors, so it would make sense to send someone to supervise them and make sure they did it properly. Secondly, why is he so angry at Marcus? We’re told this school is in Cove Valley, Arizona, in the United States, and we’re given no indication that this is taking place during another time period, so I’m assuming this is supposed to be current day. I find it a bit hard to believe that the principal of a school would accuse a new student who is disabled of “racing around,” calling it a “contraption,” and also say that the disabled boy is endangering “the lives of every other boy in this school.”

This is known as discrimination, and whatever personal bias this principal has toward the disabled, he, as principal, should be behaving in a way that’s considered socially acceptable; i.e., not raging at a disabled teenager. The school supposedly has strict rules for the students to abide by- but considering that, it’s highly difficult, if not impossible, for someone to race down a flight of stairs in a wheelchair, so unless this principal is a complete idiot he should be able to see this. The only explanation I can think of is that we’re supposed to hate Teagarden, and so Savage is trying to make us feel the hate in the most amateur way possible. Which makes me sad.

Suddenly, while Teagarden is still raging, the English teacher/track coach Mr. Allen appears out of nowhere and saves Marcus from the wrath of the principal. Teagarden hurries off to some appointment Mr . Allen reminds him of, telling the teacher to “See that the trouble maker is punished.”

Mr. Allen points out that Chet just happens to be around when a lot of accidents happen, with other students being the victims of the “accidents”. He then tells Marcus that wheeling through the halls at high speeds is a “violation of school policy” and says that if he holds to his version of what happened, he’ll receive two hours in seclusion as punishment. We get brief exposition that Marcus has endured many harsh punishments at other schools he’s been at, which begs the question of why he’s always getting in to trouble. This makes me wonder if he’s supposed to be a bit of a trouble maker. But if he’s not, then why at every school he goes to do people hate disabled kids?

Marcus says it was his fault again, and Mr. Allen sends Chet and his gang to repair and wash Marcus’s wheelchair. Apparently Mr. Allen has some dirt on Chet, which he uses to keep Chet from telling on him when he threatens to make them “mop floors until they’re twenty” if he finds Marcus injured any more.

As Chet and his friends carried the broken wheelchair out of sight, Mr. Allen turned to Marcus. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me. Can you make it on your own, or shall I see if I can find another wheelchair?”

“I can make it on my own,” Marcus said. And to demonstrate, he scooted down the stairs and across the hall faster than a boy with two good legs and arms.

If he’s able to move better than a fully functional person without using his wheelchair, what was the point of making him disabled to start with?

Comment [26]

Chapter 5 – Secrets

Marcus is being taken to his punishment by Mr. Allen. As they walk, or scoot, in Marcus’s case, the teacher tells him that he’s “the first boy at this school who’s stood up to Chet and his friends” and explains that after a few days the gang will hunt him down and try to get revenge.

Of course Marcus is the first, because he’s just that brave and awesome. If Mr. Allen knows that these kids are such bullies, why doesn’t he put a stop to it? Is he unable to because Principal Teagarden allows the violence (because he’s just a huge jerk)? Principal Teagarden may be Chet’s uncle, but the principal is not the only person in authority at a school. Mr. Allen, as well as the other teachers, should be doing something to stop this bullying, especially if Chet and his gang beat up every single new kid there is. Savage is trying to make Mr. Allen seem like a good guy, but because he’s basically allowing Chet and his gang to continue their behavior just makes him come off as someone who’s turning a blind eye to the fact that kids are getting hurt frequently at this school. Which is not what a good guy would do.

Mr. Allen then gets ready to put Marcus in seclusion, which is confinement in a dark room without any entertainment for a few hours. Before he goes into the room, Marcus’s sleeve is pulled up and a mark is exposed on his arm.

Upon first glance it seemed to be a scar or birthmark. But on closer examination, an image had been burned into the skin of his shoulder- like a brand on a cow. Hard ridges of scar tissue formed a precise likeness of two creatures doing battle inside an elaborately designed circle.

Marcus just keeps getting more and more special.

The creatures in the mark are described in several paragraphs of detail. I’ll spare you the quote and just say that it’s a snake/dragon hybrid fighting a boar/fish/bird/human hybrid. Okay then. Mr. Allen asks Marcus how he got the brand, but Marcus doesn’t deign to respond. Mr. Allen apologizes for making him feel uncomfortable and then puts him in the room. For a while Marcus reflects on how he likes the dark because it protects him from people staring at his deformed body parts. Then we get this:

The truth was, he had no idea what had caused his deformities. Abandoned as a baby at the edge of a Greek Orthodox Monastery in the Sonoran Desert, he’d been taken for dead by the novice who found him while working in the citrus grove. His tiny body had been so badly crushed doctors gave him less than a five percent chance to live.

So, Marcus has a Mysterious Past™. Somehow I’m not surprised. Why does he think that something caused his deformities? Does the term birth defect mean nothing to him? And if he had been crushed, it doesn’t make sense that his leg and arm were the only things crippled and that he didn’t sustain any injuries to his torso/head.

It was Elder Ephraim who’d given Marcus his name when the police were unable to discover his identity. Marcus, after Marcus Eugenicus, Bishop of Ephesus, and one of Elder Ephraim’s favorite theologians. Kanenas because it was the Greek word for nobody. The little nobody who had come from nowhere.

Special name is special.

Marcus spends a page and a half angsting about how lonely he is, and we get to learn some things about him. About his disability, it says this:

He’d learned to cope as well as could be expected, and could do most things a normal boy could.

Oh, you mean like how he can move sans wheelchair faster than a normal boy?

Only he wasn’t normal. Sometime around the age of six, he’d discovered he had certain . . . abilities . . . that other children didn’t. Abilities like how he’d been able to sense Chet’s trap, and how he’d slipped out of the dormitory without the boys seeing him.

He tried to hide the things he could do- the things he could see. But eventually a day like today would come, when he was forced into revealing his differences. From that point on, the others would watch him even more closely, ganging up on him until he was labeled a trouble-maker and moved along to the next school.

Marcus has magical abilities. Of course. But I’m still wondering why Marcus is constantly being assaulted and ganged up on no matter where he is. While I realize that disabled kids do get bullied sometimes, it’s more than a little far-fetched to make Marcus out to be a tragic victim of abuse from dozens, if not hundreds of insensitive and mean kids and adults. What’s the message that this book is sending to disabled children? “Everyone will automatically hate you just because you’re disabled”? That’s sad.

We learn that when he’s alone and feels depressed or scared, Marcus has an imaginary world he likes to visit, where he has a pretty friend.

A girl his age, with long, dark hair, emerald-green eyes, and skin that was a warm brown from spending so much time outdoors. She usually wore a green robe that matched her eyes, and some kind of necklace around her throat. He thought her name might be something like Kelly or Kristen.

Green eyes? Dark hair? Clothes coordinated to her eye color? That reminds me of… nah, never mind.

Marcus goes to his imaginary world. He imagines himself standing on a balcony with his friend and they look at the pretty scenery. All of a sudden Marcus gets a Really Bad Feeling. And I have no idea if right now he’s just dreaming, or hallucinating, or actually in another world, or what. The text isn’t very clear as to exactly how this is happening. Anyway, there are growling sounds and green lightning all around him and it’s all very nightmarish, so he tries to escape by running down a flight of stairs, but a cloaked figure blocks his way. The person in the cloak uses an “unseen force” to lift Marcus into the air.

When he’s hundreds of feet high, he somehow sees the wind blow the hood off the person, exposing “piercing, silvery eyes”, “thin, nearly-white lips snarled over perfect teeth”, and a “thick rope-like scar curled from the base of his jaw to his right temple.” Sound familiar, anyone?

I’m completely amazed that Marcus is able to see the person’s face in such detail while he’s so high up.

Suddenly the force holding him up vanishes and Marcus falls, hitting his head on the ground. He wakes up in the confinement room just as Principal Teagarden is opening the door. The principal wants him to meet someone, but Marcus doesn’t want to leave the room, so Teagarden brings the visitor into the room instead. The visitor? The guy from his nightmare.

Comment [14]

In this chapter we’re abruptly introduced to a new POV character named Kyja. If you’re guessing that she’s the girl Marcus meets up with in his dreams, then you’re absolutely positively wrong. It’s morning, she’s still in bed, and is being harassed by a creature named Riph Raph, who seems to be acting as her alarm clock. Their interactions I think are supposed to be humorous, but like everything Savage has written thus far, it’s dull and bland.

“Okay,” the voice called. “You asked for it.” All at once, a sharp beak closed on the tip of her big toe.

“Ouch!” Kyja shouted. She sat up to find a teal-blue, reptilian face staring at her from the foot of her bed. Pointed leathery ears wagged back and forth as a pair of bulbous, yellow eyes blinked owlishly.

“Let go, Riph Raph!” she shouted, trying to pull her foot away.

“‘Ot until you ‘romise ‘o gee’ up,” the skyte said around a mouthful of foot. It wrapped its scaly tail about its glistening blue body and flapped its small wings.

“I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” Kyja pulled her foot again.

Riph Raph released her toe. “I said, not until you promise to get up.”

Riph Raph is supposed to be a sort of mini-dragon which is called a skyte. I actually like the idea of a dwarf dragon. It’s obvious that, given that there’s a dragon in Kyja’s bed, we’re not in Kansas (Arizona) anymore. But if he really is a miniature dragon, couldn’t Savage have just written that and spared us the excess description? I think we all know what a dragon looks like. Riph Raph is called an “it” in this first exchange, but then later on the same page he’s called a “he.” Also, the word “shout” has been used twice in half a page to describe Kyja’s way of talking. It makes me wonder if an editor really looked over these pages. It also makes me wonder if Kyja is supposed to be really spunky or just bitchy.

The two engage in friendly (tedious) banter as Kyja gets ready for the day. Riph Raph belches fire. Then we get this lovely sentence.

The small, dragon-like creature blinked and licked its foreleg.

If he looks like a dragon, why didn’t you just say so in the first place?! That makes about as much sense as me describing a Shetland pony in as detailed a way as possible and then moments later describing it as a “small, horse-like creature.”

This is a miniature version….

……of this.

There are differences, but for the sake of description, calling both a horse is easiest. Same for the skyte and dragon. They’re both fire-breathing, flying reptiles. One is just smaller than the other. Also, after it’s already been established Riph Raph is male, why is he being called an “it” again?

We get a quick infodump on Kyja’s backstory. She, like Marcus, is also an orphan who was discovered abandoned at birth. le gasp What could this possibly mean? She’s been “taken in” by Mr. and Mrs. Goodnuff, a couple who own a farm. And yes, she wasn’t adopted, just taken in. In fact, she lives in the upper level of the Goodnuffs’ barn. Which is a great place to keep a child.

And they’d never once looked down on her or treated her badly because of her… differences.

Differences? So nice of Savage to not tell us what these differences are.

Riph Raph reminds Kyja that she has an appointment with a wizard by the name of Master Therapass that morning. Kyja, who completely forgot, gets all flustered and decides to yell at Riph Raph for not reminding her.

I’m leaning more and more toward thinking she’s just a complete jerk. It should be HER job to remind herself of her appointments, not the skyte’s.

The two exchange some snarky comments, then Kyja goes down to the lower level of the barn. It’s her job to take care of all the animals, who can talk.

And they tell really bad jokes. Really, really bad jokes.

“What did the veterinarian say to the shrinking cow?” the horse asked, over her protest.

When Kyja ignored his question and moved on to the next stall, Pepper, a black filly with a white patch on her forehead neighed, “What did he say?”

“I guess you’ll just have to be a little patient,” the stallion answered. “A little patient.” All across the barn, the horses whinnied laughter and stomped their hooves.

Oh, Savage. You so funny. There are more jokes, but it would kill me (not from laughter) to put them in this spork. Kyja claims to usually be amused by the animals’ jokes. Sigh. The pigs, who are busy grubbing about in the mud, hate the jokes and disdain the other animals, calling them “[l]owbrows” and “[h]eathens”. I’m with the pigs on this. Not on wallowing in mud though. That’s not all that fun.

Kyja gathers up the eggs from the chickens, ignores the cows’ full udders, and then leaves in a hurry for her appointment.

I hope these animals don’t end up being important characters.

Comment [7]

Chapter 7– Master Therapass

The chapter begins with Kyja dashing off to the city of Terra ne Staric to meet with her master.

Normally she paused on her way into the city to admire the stone sculpture of Tankum Heartstrong that stood just outside the gates. She often wondered what it would have been like to see the great warrior in battle—mythic blades swinging, lips pulled back into a snarl.

Heh. Tankum Heartstrong. I don’t know why but that name amuses me immensely. Though Kyja is supposedly out of breath from her running, Riph Raph decides to be a jerk and starts insulting her pace in the most juvenile way possible.

”Get a move on,” Riph Raph said, flying just above her shoulder. “I’ve seen slow-worms move faster than you.”

”If you want to be helpful,” she answered in an irritated tone, “you could carry this basket of eggs to the kitchen for me.”

Riph Raph flipped his ears. “You know perfectly well I can’t. A skyte’s wings are for transportation only. We are not beasts of burden.”

Well Riph Raph is an ass. And how the fuck do you flip your ears? Savage, I think the word you were looking for is “flick”. Not “flip”. When he talks about how he’s not a beast of burden, I’m eerily reminded of that conversation in Eldest (as in Christopher Paolini’s Eldest), where the elves babble about how dragons aren’t beasts of burden and shouldn’t be made to carry things. I wonder if Savage has read the Inheritance Cycle. Somehow I wouldn’t be surprised if he idolizes Paolini’s (extremely derivative) writing. Also, the goldfish that live in the fountains in this book can fly. Cool.

Actually, everything in this world seems to be special. Seems Kyja’s world is one of these. The grass talks, statues move and make “dark scowls” at Kyja for no apparent reason. I suppose that’s why the animals all talk as well.

Kyja arrives at the tower and there’s a guard there. She tells him she’s got “eggs for the kitchen” and, after eyeing “her threadbare robe through the grate of his plumed helmet” (what is he, a Roman Centurion?), he lets her through. Apparently she’s on friendly terms with the rest of the people that work in the tower, but not the guards.

Kyja sprints into the kitchen of the tower. Why is there a kitchen in a tower? That doesn’t make so much sense. If it were part of a castle I could understand, but from the writing I can only infer that the tower is standing alone, separate from any other buildings. Huh. In the kitchen, there are many people cooking using magic. Kyja singles out a woman who is apparently the head chef, and the description of her is laden with beautiful prose. [/rampant sarcasm]

At the far end of the kitchen, a sweaty woman with arms like fire logs was overseeing the staff.

I cannot even imagine what that would look like. How do arms look like logs?! Are they all knobby and rough and covered in bark? Also, her name is Bella. Ewwww.

They have some friendly banter and Kyja gets called “child” (typical name everyone seems to have for kids or teens in fantasy books).

Bella shook her head and armed big beads of sweat from her forehead.

Now I’m imagining her giving little swords to her beads of sweat. Lovely.

Kyja then leaves her eggs in the kitchen and runs off to her lesson with Master Therapass. She climbs a lot of steps and then arrives at a large oak door. She calls out for Master Therapass but no one answers. Riph Raph says:

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

So does Luke.

Kyja walks into the room with Riph Raph on her shoulder, and we get a brief, boring description of it. Riph Raph has something creative to say as usual.

”This place always appears so homey,” Riph Raph whispered, grimacing at what looked like a human finger.

So a human finger makes him think the place looks homey? Either that’s an author adjective fail, or Kyja and he live in a seriously creepy home.

Suddenly a big wolf rises from a rug in front of the fireplace and says, “You’re late.” And the chapter ends there. Oh, the suspense!

Comment [13]

Chapter 8 – Magic Lessons

Kyja and Riph Raph apologize to the wolf for being late. Turns out the wolf is Master Therapass (surprise, surprise.) He basically says it’s okay that they were late. Which is weird because they were all worried about getting in trouble for being late and he called them out on it when they finally showed up. He calls them “little ones”. Granted, he’s in wolf form and is apparently pretty large, but he also calls them that even when he’s in his human form. I’m getting serious Saphira vibes from him now. Great.

“There was a time when the chill in the morning air didn’t bother me. Now, alas, my old bones don’t move quite so easily as they once did.”

As he turned from the fire and padded across the room, Kyja noticed the limp in his back right leg was worse than ever. “Can’t you use your magic to make that any better?” Kyja asked.

The great wolf paused, and Kyja wondered if she had overstepped her bounds. Without any warning, the creature disappeared and in its place stood a stooped man in a powder-blue robe.

A wizard in blue. Typical. If he has a long beard, I’m going to….

“There are some things magic can’t cure.” He shook his head ruefully, making his unruly gray beard waggle back and forth.”

Of course he has one. grumble grumble This is just another example of Savage using cliches and stereotypes rather than being innovative. It’s bringing this book down a lot. And why does Kyja keep worrying that she’s being offensive? Master Therapass has been acting pretty chill up to this point. Which implies that he’s not exactly the type to get pissed easily. Or maybe he actually usually is nasty. I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as everyone in this book except for Marcus has been a complete jerk.

Master Therapass asks why Kyja is there. Apparently either he or Savage forgot that she had an appointment with him. He asks if she’s there to play a game called trill stones with him again.

Kyja says she isn’t there to play the game, and Master Therapass reaches the conclusion that she clearly is there to learn magic (which is what he’s been trying to teach her for a while now, so it’s kind of weird that he didn’t reach said conclusion immediately.) Kyja tells him all about how she managed to make one of her hair clips jiggle a bit and is very proud of having been able to do that. Therapass makes a point (via several very dramatic similes) that she is not meant to use magic and needs to accept that.

Kyja starts crying. Sigh.

“Is casting spells really so important?” he asked, his deep brown eyes mirroring the pain in her glistening green ones.

Says the powerful magician, whose life would be completely different and likely far less privileged if he couldn’t use magic, seeing as his entire lifestyle is based on the fact that he can. Really, saying that just seems condescending and vaguely hypocritical.

“Yes!” Kyja cried, leaping from her chair. Everyone has some magic.”

“Everyone but you.”

“Exactly!” Kyja began pacing about the room. “I’m an outcast. It’s bad enough I can’t do magic. But I can’t even take part in the magic the other kids do.. Charms don’t work on me, spells bounce off, potions might as well be water for all the good they do me. I can’t play in any of their games.”

Therapass says not being able to do/be affected by magic makes her special. Which of course doesn’t help Kyja calm down, and only makes her more emotional. It’s revealed that Riph Raph used his magic to make her hair clip move. As soon as Kyja realizes that, she flops down in a chair and starts crying again. Therapass decides to fix the situation by telling her he knows that she has magic inside her somewhere. Which of course makes Kyja stop crying. It doesn’t seem realistic for him to say, after so much evidence to prove that she doesn’t have magic, that she does, and that it would somehow reassure Kyja so much that she’s suddenly over her emotional outburst and back to normal.

The psuedo-dramatic nonsense chapter ends there.

Comment [16]

Chapter 9 – Lost And Found

This chapter had the potential to be really good and give us a better idea of what Marcus’s personality is like. But, because Savage hates good writing, things go downhill quickly.

The chapter opens with Marcus looking at a business card. It’s the card of a guy named Ben Linstrope, who is a Child Welfare Attorney of the State of Arizona. He’s come to the school to see if Marcus is the missing son of a couple whose child was abducted by a gang as a little baby. Marcus has one of those “It’s too good to be true!” feelings, and Linstrope is giving off very creepy vibes, doing things like giving toothy smiles and running “a long, thin finger” down Marcus’s wheelchair. Uh.

The attorney pulls out a photograph from his portfolio and shows it to Marcus. It’s of a young-looking man and woman holding a baby whose features Marcus recognizes as being his own. Seeing this causes Marcus to become very hopeful that he’ll be reunited with his father and mother. He’s almost scarily emphatic in his hopefulness, repeatedly insisting to himself that:

The baby in the picture had to be him. It had to.

This stubborn hopefulness actually comes off as good character building. Marcus has been an orphan his entire life and now he’s facing the possibility of having parents. A couple of pages are spent on showing that Marcus is excited and even a bit nervous, which was well done by Savage. Unfortunately, Savage then decides that characterization is bad.

Linstrope tells Marcus that the gang who abducted him as a baby admitted to having tortured him, which is why Marcus is now crippled. Then he says that they have to make sure that Marcus is indeed the couple’s son, and Marcus asks what he needs to know. Linstrope shows him a drawing that looks exactly like the mark Marcus has on his arm and says that the gang had branded the child of the couple. If Marcus has the mark, then he’s definitely the right kid, and he can go home to his parents. Marcus is very eager to prove that he’s the right child and wonders what it’ll be like to have parents, but then he suddenly remembers how Linstrope looked like the man in his dream. And this is where all the good characterization we had this chapter goes down the drain.

[Marcus] was studying Mr. Linstrope’s eyes, and something in them was setting off huge warning bells inside his head. The mark on his arm itched almost uncontrollably, and it was all he could do to keep from reaching up and putting his hand over it.

Marcus tells Linstrope he doesn’t have the mark, and the attorney acts like he doesn’t believe Marcus and drops a not-so-subtle hint that he knows Marcus is lying. How does he know that? Well, he’s got powers, which he’s been using on Marcus this whole time. Long quote ahead!

Looking into Mr. Linstrope’s eyes, Marcus suddenly found himself wanting to admit that he had the mark. Tell him, whispered a voice inside his head. You can trust him. He’ll take you to your family. Marcus tried to shut the voice off, but it wouldn’t go away. He tried to pull his eyes from Mr. Linstrope’s dark gaze, but he couldn’t seem to.

Show him. Show him. SHOW HIM! The voice drummed over and over in his mind. His hand was trying to reach up toward his shoulder, but he wouldn’t let it. It took every bit of his control to keep his fingers locked on the arm of his wheelchair. If only he could manage to look away, even for a second.

facedesk WHY?!

This is bad writing. Bad. It’s revealed that Marcus has been literally being compelled to feel hope and joy and then do what Linstrope suggests to him through magic (that’s used via eye contact.) All that happiness he felt at the possibility of having loving parents for the first time in his life? The emphatic insistance that he was definitely the son of this couple? His desire to prove that he was their child by showing his mark? None of that was actually him. The entire chapter’s worth of characterization was just tossed away and excused because the baddie is magically manipulating Marcus’s feelings. This entire chapter, which could have been used to show us more about Marcus’s thought processes and feelings, is reduced to being an incident that has no reason for being in the story other than to push the plot along.

Grr.

Teagarden takes the initiative and exposes the mark on Marcus’s shoulder. Marcus struggles to hide it, but it’s too late, and Linstrope sees it.

Mr. Linstrope was leering like a large, predatory beast.

“It looks like we have our boy.”

Aaaaaand we’ve reached the end of the chapter.

Comment [7]

Apologies for the delay. As it’s the end of the school year, I’ve had a lot of tests and almost no spare time. Anyway, sporking time!

Chapter 10 – The All-Seeing Eye

Therapass is trying to burn Kyja alive. No, really.

Kyja stood at the center of a whirling vortex of blue flame that danced and crackled about her entire body. Around her feet the white marble floor turned black and began to crack, while the air between herself and Master Therapass shimmered from the heat.

“Do you feel anything?” the wizard asked, his ivory and silver wand held out before him.

Kyja sighed and shook her head. Nothing at all. Not so much as a single bead of sweat.

“Dragon droppings,” he said, lowering his wand.

Nice curse, Therapass. The reasoning why he’s trying to set Kyja on fire is to see if he can find a way to make magic affect her (remember she can not only not use magic, but is immune to everything magical as well.) There’s a huge flaw to this plan. If Therapass’s fire could somehow affect Kyja, it would burn her. Badly. What was his plan if that did happen? Heal her with magic? Sounds risky, especially if fire was the only thing that could affect her and healing magics couldn’t. For a wise old man Therapass doesn’t seem to be all that intelligent.

The fire doesn’t do anything, and Kyja is very disappointed. (It reads like she wanted to be burnt just to prove that she actually does have magic.) She angsts for a bit about how she could have ten tons of magic manure dumped on her and would still smell perfectly fine. This raises a question about her defenses against magic. If ten tons of manure were dropped on anyone, it would kill them from the weight. So how would that affect Kyja? Would she still be killed, or is she somehow non-existent to magic?

Kyja whines about needing to find more ways to find the magic inside of her (as though a method like being burned alive would help solve her problem. It would only make more. Really, Savage. T_T) Therapass says there’s one more thing they can try. It’s a window called an aptura discerna.

Master Therapass placed his hands on either side of the window, his wrinkled face illuminated by its pink glow. “Most windows look out on the world. This window looks in. I sense that much of your unhappiness, little one, comes from your confusion about who you are and where you fit in. And I am to blame for most of that confusion.”

Really, Therapass? You sense that that’s the cause of her unhappiness? She complains non-stop that that’s the reason. Stop trying to sound mysterious and insightful. And you’re not mostly to blame for her confusion. Everyone in your society is, because they make her feel like an outcast. By what we’ve read so far, you’ve been nothing but kind to her. And please stop calling her little one. It comes off as condescension masquerading as affection.

The aptura discerna is essentially a window to the soul that “explores the depths of whoever gazes into its surface and displays what it finds.” Therapass tells Kyja that in order for the window to work, she has to cast aside all of her negative feelings, especially resentment. How this is going to bring out the magic inside her, I don’t know.

The window turns blood red as she recalls suddenly all the abuse she’d had to endure for being different. Therapass tells her to think of those who have been kind to her. She can think of only a few people- Therapass, Bella, the Goodnuffs, Anthor, the weapons master, Lady Jintette, a prophetess, and Jade, the seamstress. She’s known Therapass all her life, because he found her abandoned as a baby. Sounds a lot like Marcus’s past, doesn’t it?

Then Kyja is told to remember all the kind things she’s done for others. She thinks of different occasions, imagining the people she’s been good to in her head. Then she notices that their images have appeared in the window. She stares at the window, trying to see if there’s any magic in it. Therapass doesn’t give her any clues as to how she might see the magic, or if it would even be visible. It’s also strange that this window is working for her, given that nothing that uses magic can be used by or on her. So by all rights what she’s doing shouldn’t even work, unless she actually does have magic, in which case this should be obvious because she’s USING THE MAGIC WINDOW. Consistency!

Suddenly the window changes to show a boy whose “features were vaguely familiar, as if she’d glimpsed his face long ago, in a forgotten dream.”

As she watched, a skinny man with a length of cloth wrapped about his neck like a narrow scarf walked into view and pulled up the sleeve of the boy’s shirt. What Kyja saw there made her gasp in surprise. Standing out clearly on the boy’s arm was an image Kyja knew well. That exact same image was engraved on the amulet she wore about her neck- the amulet Master Therapass hard given her for her eighth birthday.

The view in the window shifted to show another man. Although he was dressed in the same type of clothing as the man with the scarf around his neck, Kyja knew at once that he was not like th mean or the boy. He was a monster in disguise.

She knew something else as well. The man wanted the boy, and unless something happened soon, the boy didn’t have long to live.

The window turns black, and Kyja finds herself being shaken by Therapass.

“Terrible danger,” he gasped, his eyes wide with fear. “They’ve found him. You could be next. You must go. Now!”

Just in case you didn’t guess, the boy she saw is Marcus. It’s kind of a decent way to end a chapter, because now we’re supposed to be wondering how Therapass knows Marcus and why Kyja is in danger.

Comment [9]

Chapter 11 – Rhymes And Revelations

Marcus is getting ready to leave the school with Linstrope, and is packing up his few possessions under the watchful eye of Principal Teagarden. He’s debating in his head over whether or not Linstrope actually does intend to take him to his real family or not. Uh, Marcus? I thought we settled the issue that Linstrope is definitely Evil and Scary and Bad two chapters ago. Anyway. Marcus considers that Linstrope might want him for money, or might want to kill him (if he’s part of the gang who abducted Marcus as a baby.) He decides it couldn’t be money, because he has none, and he determines he’s not worth killing to Linstrope if he is a gang member. Even though he can’t think of a reason why Linstrope would want to hurt him, he decides to try to escape.

Leaning protectively over his suitcase to block the principal’s view, Marcus removed his cash and the only other important possession he owned- a creased picture of Elder Ephraim. After a moment’s hesitation, he also grabbed an extra pair of underpants and stuffed them into his pocket. If he somehow managed to escape, at least he’d have a change of underwear.

Right. A teenage boy, in a moment of crisis, is worrying about having a change of underwear. I wonder if he has someone like this in his life.

A plan of escape is needed, and Marcus has just the idea. He tells Teagarden he has to use the bathroom.

“What?” Teagarden growled, his cheeks turning purple. “There’s no time. You have a plane to catch.”

He starts growling and turning purple just because a kid has to use the bathroom…? O_O

“I have to go bad.” Marcus leaned forward in his wheelchair, faking a pained look. “I think it’s the pork and beans we had for lunch today.” In truth, lunch had been peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but he knew the principal never went near the cafeteria, much less ate anything served there.

“Well…” Teagarden’s eyes darted toward the door, and Marcus realized the principal was as scared of Mr. Linstrope as he was.

“If I can’t go to the toilet right now, I’m gonna…” Marcus leaned forward in his wheelchair, clenched his arms over his stomach, and gave a loud moan.

Principal Teagarden jumped back as if he’d just stepped on a scorpion. “Hurry up then,” he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Anything to get you out of here.”

Toilet humor! Yes!

It keeps coming up frequently in the story where Marcus knows things about Teagarden that aren’t exactly normal to know. For example, in chapter 4, Marcus knew Teagarden had been mostly bald for the past five years, though he’s new to the school. Now he knows all about his eating habits, and while that’s not as far-fetched, it’s not something that would be of particular importance to any schoolkid, much less someone new to the school. While it’s likely just poor writing, it kind of makes me want to make up theories about why Marcus knows so much about him. Maybe Marcus and Teagarden share a spiritual bond or something….

Anyway.

Going into the bathroom located at the end of the dormitory, Marcus opens the window and through a pretty impressive feat of strength shoves his wheelchair out the window. Then Marcus begins to whisper to himself a stupid rhyme which “[seems] to help him gain the concentration necessary to make his trick work.” This is the same trick he used earlier to evade the prank played by Chet and company. Marcus’s body starts to fade until he becomes almost invisible, “nothing more than a shadow.”

Marcus Nobody was now Marcus Nowhere.

Dun dun dunnnnnn!

Marcus sneaks out of the bathroom and begins to crawl under the beds to avoid catching the attention of Teagarden. He’s not fully invisible, so he could still be seen if he walked in plain sight. Then he bumps a baseball bat under one of the beds, which catches Teagarden’s attention. The principal walks over to where the bat has rolled, picks it up, and shouts, “Are you playing some kind of game?” That’s…kind of an odd thing to say. Marcus “shimmies” under the last six beds and then slides down the flight of stairs. That would definitely hurt.

Finally, Marcus is out of the building and outside. It’s night out, with a full, bright moon lighting everything pretty well. Marcus then realizes that he has nowhere to run away to, and is torn for a minute. He pulls out the photo of Elder Ephraim. Then he hears Ephraim’s voice offering supportive words.

Don’t worry about what you can’t control, the old man’s gentle voice seemed to whisper into Marcus’s ear. The longest journey is but a series of small steps.

Marcus takes comfort in this, dismisses the issue of where he’ll go, and then goes to get his wheelchair. But before he goes more than a few steps, he hears “a familiar voice.”

“Gimme one of them cigarettes, fungus breath.” It was Chet, probably with his friends. No doubt they were coming outside to smoke. Smoking was against the school rules, but Chet and his friends did it anyway. Usually behind the school- right where Marcus had left his wheelchair.

Once again, Chet is sixteen, and calls his friends “fungus breath”. How does he even have any “friends” anyway?

Marcus crawls around the building to where his wheelchair is, trying to get it before Chet and his friends get there. He comes to the spot where he dropped it, but the chair is gone.

Something moved to Marcus’s left. He turned in time to see a dark figure slip from the shadows.

A hand clamped around his wrist, and a voice whispered, “Now you’re mine.”

Well that’s creepy.

The chapter ends there, on yet another cliff-hanger. I don’t have a problem with chapters ending like that sometimes, but this book reads like a fanfic where dramatic chapter endings are needed every single chapter to keep people’s interest up in between installments. Between that and the fact that the chapters have been at most seven pages long, the book’s format is a bit aggravating.

Comment [14]

Chapter 12 – The Boy In The Window

Just in case you were wondering, this chapter doesn’t really involve or focus on the boy in the window.

Therapass is spouting off cryptic nonsense, which Savage probably thought made the scene more dramatic and tense, but really just makes it clear that this book suffers from a bad case of the cliches.

Master Therapass looked like a madman. Muttering to himself, he paced back and forth across the room, his fingers combing grooves through his long beard. “They can’t be here… Yet clearly… If anything happens to him… All my fault…”

It’s kind of odd in the middle of a character’s hysteria to point out that he’s combing grooves through his beard. It just strikes me as an odd way to phrase it- “running his fingers through his beard” would be better. I also like how he’s apparently babbling about what’s wrong but is somehow magically not saying anything that could possibly let Kyja know exactly what he’s panicking about. For all she knows, he’s just gone crazy.

Kyja asks him in a remarkably calm tone of voice what’s wrong. He asks her if she’s ever seen the boy before, and she says that she thought so for a minute, but she doesn’t really recognize him. She tries to remember exactly what she felt, and comes to the conclusion that she feels as though she’s dreamed about him before. She then asks him if it’s possible she made him up in her head. But no, she hasn’t. The boy is, according to Therapass, “very real.” He mutters to himself about how he “should have predicted that” and that the boy was reaching out and Kyja was the most logical choice…. I think it’s meant to be suspenseful.

All at once, Master Therapass took Kyja by the arm and began pulling her toward the door. “If they’ve found him, they’re bound to come looking for you as well. Of course they’ll check the city first. But once they find you’ve left, they’ll spread out. They could even be here now.”

Kyja asks him who he’s talking about. Good question, Kyja. Don’t expect any answers though, as there’s no time to explain.

The old man gave her a measuring look before taking her hand. “There’s no time to explain now. You must leave immediately. Do not tell anyone where you are going, except for Bella. She will give you food enough to last several days. Take one of Farmer Goodnuff’s horses- you’d be questioned if I provided you with a mount from the tower- and ride out of town as far and fast as you can. I’ll catch up with you when I’m able.”

Therapass is doing a brilliant job of fulfilling his role as the cryptic old mentor.

He tells her to keep the necklace that he gave her, the one that has the design that matches the mark on Marcus’s shoulder. Why he thinks she’d get rid of it, I have no idea. And with that, poor Kyja is sent running off without any more information. Riph Raph is commanded by Therapass to fly above the city and keep an eye out for danger, implying that Riph Raph has some sense of what this “danger” is.

As she’s going to find the cook, Kyja briefly wonders if Therapass is just being a coward and there really is no danger, but then she remembers how everyone defers to him and decides he’s no coward, and that there must be a good reason for her to run. It seems like every doubt the characters have about other people in this book is put to rest in just a few short sentences. Personally I think it would make it more interesting if she didn’t fully believe Therapass.

Kyja finds Bella, who gives her a “bulging grain sack” that I assume has food in it. Wanting to know what the hell is going on, Kyja tries to ask Bella questions but Bella cuts her off, telling her that there are “too many big ears and even bigger mouths in this kitchen.” Then she and Kyja go through a hallway that Kyja never knew existed before.

They exit the passage into a fenced yard where the tower’s livestock are kept. The tone of the writing is supposed to be tense as they try to avoid being seen by anyone, but it’s kind of hard to take it seriously when Bella has to tell a turkey to “hush [its] beak, or [it’ll] be on the dinner menu tonight.” Passing through the yard, they go through an orchard and then through a hedge maze.

“Here,” Bella said, pulling a dark, gray scarf from her apron pocket. “Tie this around your head and keep it on until you get out of town. Master Therapass wanted me to remind you not to talk to anyone, and to stay out of sight as much as possible.”

I have a problem with this. These people that are apparently after Kyja must know what she looks like if she has to disguise herself. The problem with that is, how do they have any idea what she looks like? Have they been spying on her for a long time? If so, why are they only now coming after her? I don’t think Savage intends to answer that question, but it still bothers me that we’re supposed to accept that somehow this unnamed danger can find Kyja that easily (unless they can somehow sense her or something.)

“If you run into trouble, send that skyte of yours with a message and I’ll-” Bella’s words died in her mouth as she and Kyja rounded the corner. Not more than twenty yards away, where the path met the road, two dozen of the royal guards marched in formation. In the center of the formation was the High Lord himself, riding on a tall black stallion side-by-side with a man Kyja had never seen.

Before Bella could push Kyja behind her thick body, the stranger looked in their direction, and Kyja felt sure his dark eyes marked her.

Stranger who has dark eyes and “marks” her with his gaze? He must be a baddie. The chapter ends there, on yet another cliff-hanger. Surprised? I didn’t think so.

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Warning: Extremely creepy remarks ahead.

Chapter 13 – Problem Solver

We begin with a suitably creepy comment from Linstrope as he grips Marcus’s arm to keep him from running away.

“The bird has flown the coop.” Mr. Linstrope grinned darkly. “Such a naughty little bird.”

Savage continues to lay it on thick that Linstrope is a very bad guy.

“Don’t scream, or I’ll kill you here and now,” the man hissed.

Marcus asks him what he wants. Apparently Linstrope is gripping his arm so hard it feels like his arm is going to shatter. Well, crap.

“I thought that was quite clear.” Linstrope eased the pressure on Marcus’s arm a fraction and leaned down until they were face to face. “I want you.”

If Savage was not going for a rapist vibe here then I don’t know what he was thinking. Eww. I just want to mention that I’m pretty sure the target age of this book is between eleven and fifteen, so…. yeah.

Throwing Marcus into his wheelchair, Linstrope drags Marcus off to the forest because “more privacy is called for.” This….is just…. ugh. As they go toward the forest, Marcus asks Linstrope who he is. Being the good little cliched villain he is, Linstrope gives an evil laugh. He goes off on a tangent about what he thinks of lawyers, then sets the ground on fire. He’s quite a showy, if stupid, villain.

I can hardly believe that no one in the school noticed the sudden fire outside. They’re not even in the woods yet, so the flames should be really obvious.

The fire spells out the words that were on Linstrope’s business card in chapter nine.

His face highlighted by the moon’s silvery light, Linstrope raised an eyebrow as one side of his mouth lifted in an amused grin. “Watch closely now, little bird. I’d hate to have you blink and miss it.”

Pursing his lips, the man blew toward the words. Like magic, the burning letters reading Ben Linstrope rearranged themselves into a new name: Bonesplinter. Below them, Child Welfare Attorney and State of Arizona faded away, replaced by Problem Solver and State of No Return. Then the entire thing flared brightly before disappearing into ashes.

Like magic? LIKE MAGIC? THAT WAS OBVIOUSLY MAGIC. Also, Problem Solver and State of No Return sound like they were thought up by a five year old. Sigh.

Marcus looks from the pile of ashes back to Linstrope-who’s-really-Bonesplinter whose facial features have suddenly changed. He’s basically gotten a lot uglier and has a big scar on his face (which you may remember from the first few chapters.) Bonesplinter then references Marcus’s ability to use magic, and Marcus is all I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT.

He must think Bonesplinter is an idiot. If he says he knows about your powers, then he knows about them. He’s not just mentioning random things hoping he’ll say something that’s actually true. That much is obvious.

Of course, Bonesplinter calls Marcus on his feigned ignorance and then drops some hints that Marcus is more powerful than he realizes. Then he pushes him into the forest, out of sight of the school. And then molests him. Well, not really, but it would hardly be unexpected at this point.

“What are you going to do with me?” Marcus asked through gritted teeth.

Bonesplinter stopped deep in the shadows. “I’d like to spend a little time getting to know you,” he said. “I’d like to study you like a fine watch and see what makes you tick.”

Shudder.

Ugh.

I’ll give Savage credit for making a very creepy-sounding villain.

Bleh.

Anyway.

Bonesplinter transforms into a snake, and darts at Marcus.

And the chapter ends there on another cliff-hanger. Woohoo.

Bonesplinter is definitely creepy, but given that we don’t really know anything about what he or his “master” (from the first chapter) want Marcus for, it’s kind of lacking in suspense. We don’t know what the agenda of the baddies is, so the threat falls flat.

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Apologies for not having updated in eons. Work and school have been quite a handful recently. However, I’ve gotten the hang of it, so I’ll updating the sporkings regularly again.

Chapter 14 – Taking A Chance

This chapter is a bit erratic, both in the writing and in the plot, so I’ll just try to summarize for the most part.

Kyja and Bella have just turned a corner and run into High Lord Dinslith and the eeeeevil-seeming visitor. The two are afraid of the visitor because he looks menacing, but Kyja mentally reassures herself that seeing someone she doesn’t know in the company of the high lord isn’t unusual.

Somehow Bella manages to completely hide Kyja from sight by having Kyja stand behind her, and then shove her back around the corner without catching the attention of the lord and his guest. She must be pretty stocky, or Kyja is literally as thin as a stick. As Kyja runs away she wonders why she thinks the visitor is dangerous and what he would want with “a girl who fed chickens and milked cows.” Well, the only reason why she seems to think he’s evil is because of his appearance (dark eyes, “silky” voice,), which isn’t a particularly good basis for judging someone’s character.

Riph Raph and Kyja meet up once she escapes the grounds of the tower and goes into an orchard. She asks him if he’s seen anything unusual, and he says this:

“Nothing except the High Lord and his guards… I didn’t like the looks of the stranger with him. He had suspicious eyes.”

Remember, Riph Raph was doing flight surveillance, which means he either flew very, very close to the High Lord and his guest or he has incredible eye sight. The former seems really unlikely, so we’ll assume he has amazing vision.

Kyja and Riph Raph return to the Goodnuffs’ farm, where she saddles up one of the horses, Chance, and grabs some provisions while the skyte takes lookout duty. Suddenly, just as she’s ready to go, Riph Raph flies into the barn and is having a panic attack because he’s seen something approaching. Apparently his incredible vision is selective because he failed to see this approaching threat until it was about a mile away and completely visible to Kyja (who has normal vision). They go outside and see a large cloud of dust approaching rapidly. The ground begins to shake, and she wants to warn the Goodnuffs but according to Riph Raph, she has “no time!” so she runs away.

From a distance, Kyja watches as the cloud of dust travels right up to the farm, where it then causes ground to explode and completely destroy the farm. The rumbling/dust cloud was being caused by three black snakes “as big around as tree trunks and nearly twenty feet long”, who then transform into men (not sure how she knows they’re men) wearing “dark cowls”.

Like Paolini, Savage has the habit of giving very specific numbers whenever a character is visually estimating a distance/length of something/the amount of people in a group/etc.

Kyja stares in disbelief at the destruction for a second, then gallops away, crying because the Goodnuffs and the animals are all dead. If you feel like this scene is familiar, that’s probably because it is.

Chapter 15 – The Golden Rope

Kyja, Riph Raph, and Chance the horse are apparently safe for the moment, as they’re sitting down near a stream and resting.

Why would they kill the Goodnuffs?” Kyja cried, rubbing her cheeks furiously with the palms of her hands. “They weren’t even looking for them. They were looking for me.”

coughStar Wars/Eragoncough I’d like to point out that killing the Goodnuffs definitely wouldn’t benefit the baddies much (capturing and then questioning them seems like a better idea), so it’s probably just to prove how EVIL they are. However, Kyja seems to think that they knew she’d already escaped and just killed the Goodnuffs out of malice, which doesn’t make a lot of sense.

The group is afraid that they’ll be found at any moment, so of course Kyja spends some time reflecting on the advice Therapass gave her about fleeing, who the boy she saw in the Aptura Discerna (Marcus) is, and her special amulet that has the monsters engraved on it. Then she suddenly has a vision of sorts, where she sees Marcus screaming at a giant snake.

I won’t let you die, she screamed silently. I won’t!

Silent screaming isn’t possible. “Mentally screamed” would be better. Or “screamed in her head.”

Concentrating with all her might, she tried to reach out to the boy. In her hand, the amulet burned as an image appeared in her head. It was a long, golden rope hanging just above the boy’s head… As the snake struck, she mentally pulled on the rope as hard as she could.

The chapter ends there on yet another cliffhanger. Savage needs to stop acting like he’s writing fanfic instead of a novel. Especially given that the chapter was about four pages long, it would benefit the story’s readability immensely if he combined the chapters so they flow more smoothly.

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Chapter 16 – An Elastic Escape

If you remember, the last chapter ended with Kyja seeing Marcus somehow (but not through magic because she definitely can’t use magic, right? Right?) and pulling on a “rope” in an effort to help him. Chapter 16 abruptly cuts to Marcus’ POV. Marcus is screaming as the snake lunges toward him and he has time to think of all the possible ways to escape.

After about three minutes of research, it seems that the average snake can strike at the rate of several feet per second. In chapter 13, the last time the chapter was from Marcus’ POV, it ended with Marcus “staring into the face of” the snake, which means that he must be quite close to it. So, unless the snake is moving in slow motion, I fail to see how Marcus could possibly have time to think over his options for escape. But he does. For some reason.

Anyway, Kyja magically appears at Marcus’ side and shouts “No!” at the snake. This distracts the snake so it misses Marcus literally by inches. The action literally just stops and Marcus looks around for Kyja, but she’s gone. He thinks he must have imagined her. Apparently Bonesplinter (though he’s called “the snake” for the entire chapter) thinks that Marcus conjured her up as an illusion and praises him for his skill. This confuses Marcus.

Marcus had no idea what the snake was talking about. He’d had nothing to do with the girl. But if the snake thought he did . . . ?

“I can do it again,” he said. “But this time it won’t just be a girl. It’ll be a . . . a monster.”

For a moment the snake seemed to take his threat seriously. Then its eyes narrowed as it shook its diamond-shaped head. “You’re bluffing. Enough of these games. It’s time for you to die.”

If Bonesplinter thought Marcus had created Kyja as a magical illusion, then why would he suddenly revise his opinion and decide Marcus is lying? He gave no indication that he realized that the girl was actually a real person who’d suddenly acquired a teleportation skill or anything, so it just seems that he switched his opinion with no evidence to make him do so.

Marcus searches for a weapon while Bonesplinter “[prepares] to launch again,” which makes me think that 1) the passage of time in this battle is really skewed and 2) it makes it seem like Bonesplinter is an aircraft or something. Marcus suddenly gets A Feeling and puts his hand in his pocket, where he finds something and without even knowing what it is, pulls it out and holds it in front of him as Bonesplinter strikes at him. The snake hits, and whatever Marcus was holding gets torn from his grasp. He himself gets flung back about six feet from the strength of the strike yet somehow isn’t hurt. And I feel compelled to quote this because it’s too good to just summarize.

As the snake recoiled, Marcus looked up. Only a few feet away, the snake was swinging its broad, flat head wildly back and forth and struggling to snap it s jaws. It was close enough to kill Marcus with one bite, only it couldn’t see what it was doing because its head was trapped inside Marcus’s extra pair of underwear.

Yeah.

Marcus stares at Bonesplinter for a second, then thinks how hilarious it’d be if he wasn’t scared as shit.

The beast shook its head and gnashed its teeth, but the elastic of his Fruit of the Looms stretched out and back with every movement of the snake’s head.

The fact that I have seen the word “beast” used as a euphemism more than once makes this even funnier.

Marcus realizes it’s his chance to escape, so he wheels himself as fast as he can out of the woods. This is pretty impressive, considering that he’s wheeling across unpaved ground (a forest, no less) and the giant snakes we saw in Kyja’s world are apparently very agile. Bonesplinter pursues him and, when they reach the edge of the field surrounding the school, he launches himself at Marcus again. He needs to realize that snake mode isn’t very effective in this situation. Marcus braces himself for the blow, but then the mark on his shoulder glows and gets all hot and stuff, and he suddenly teleports into a creek in Farworld.

Note that Marcus didn’t even have a “pulling a rope and then teleporting” type of experience. He just teleports because his body decides now is a convenient time or something. Which begs the question of why it made him wait this long to teleport him out of trouble.

Marcus looks around for the snake, not realizing what’s happened, and instead comes face-to-face with Riph Raph. The skyte asks him who he is, and Marcus just stumbles backward a bit and looks around some more. He sees Kyja, and we get a nice little bit of description that feels quite out of place, marking how her eyes are “wide, green circles against her pale skin,” which makes me sad because eyes should never be referred to as circles/orbs/anything other than eyes. Then he sees Kyja’s horse.

Behind the girl, a large, gray horse winked and said, “What’s the difference between a duck and a boy?”

Marcus fainted.

Apparently Marcus can’t take a joke, but I don’t blame him, because that’s what I feel like doing every time I read one of the jokes the animals tell.

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Chapter 17 – Poison Polly

If you’ll remember, Marcus just teleported to Farworld where he promptly fainted after Kyja’s horse told a bad joke. Marcus wakes up from his little swoon to the awe-inspiring smell of unpolluted air. Once he’s fully awake, he looks around and wonders where he is. He realizes he’s not in Arizona anymore, then the narrator states that “his first thought was that the snake had killed him.” Uh, that wasn’t his first thought. His first thought was that the air smelled really, really good. Remember, narrator?

Riph Raph thinks that Marcus is weird for thinking he might be dead and because he’s wearing strange clothes. Kyja tells him to not be rude, but Riph Raph doesn’t care.

“I don’t trust him,” the lizard said. “I think he might be crazy.”

While it’s perfectly understandable for Riph Raph to not trust him, thinking he’s crazy isn’t really the most reasonable reason in this scenario. After all, Kyja and Riph Raph have just fled the Goodnuffs’ farm at breakneck speed because their enemy destroyed the entire place and they’ve been being pursued. If I was Riph Raph, I would probably think Marcus was more likely to be one of my enemies than anything else.

Kyja hits Riph Raph for his sass, which causes him to fly a few feet away from her. Marcus is shocked that Riph Raph has wings. Like, it’s not shocking that he’s talking, but wings, oh! After that minor distraction, Marcus goes back to wondering where he is.

Everything looked so strange and yet so familiar at the same time. “Where am I?” he asked the girl.

FINALLY HE ASKS HER. Kyja basically tells him where they are locally, (“A little north of Terra ne Staric. . . In Westland,”) which, I have to say, is actually a pretty realistic reaction and makes a lot more sense than saying “Oh you’re in Farworld!” Because usually people tend to assume that if someone’s lost or confused, they’re not from another planet or something.

Somehow Marcus realizes that he’s in Farworld.

“‘I’m dreaming. This is Farworld, and you’re the girl I imagine sometimes.” Of course it was a dream, but his dreams had never been this real before.”

“‘I don’t know what you’ve imagined,” the girl said, her cheeks coloring.[sic] “But you’re not dreaming. I think I brought you here somehow.”

And then Marcus begins to overcome his disability. He notices his legs are “pointing straight out before him,” which is impossible because his right leg has been permanently bent all his life, and from what the text says, seems to have been paralyzed as well. Now he can move it a bit. His twisted arm is “still twisted, but he [can] actually open and close his fingers.”

Thoroughly convinced that he’s dreaming, Marcus tells Riph Raph he’s never dreamed of a flying lizard before (it doesn’t really seem like that strange of a thing to never have dreamed of.) Riph Raph gets suitably offended and spews fire at being compared to a lizard.

Marcus ignores Riph Raph’s offended fire breathing and stands up without any help. Goodbye, disability. Kyja comes over to help him stand up, and he takes in the scenery for a while.

Don’t worry, guys. It’s not like the forces of evil are supposedly in hot pursuit of them and realistically would have caught up with them by now or anything.

Marcus touches a flower which squirts some sort of liquid on him which causes his finger to swell to “twice its normal size and [burns] like a bee sting.” Showing his intelligence, Marcus puts his finger into his mouth instead of into, for example, the creek that he’s standing right next to. His tongue burns and swells up too, which causes Riph Raph to assert that Marcus is most definitely insane. He’s not insane, just not very smart.

Kyja has Marcus rinse his hand and mouth, which instantly soothes the swelling and burning. Must be magical water. The plant is named Poison Polly, which is where the chapter title comes from. The pain makes Marcus start to question whether he’s actually dreaming or not, but he doesn’t think much more of it. He appraises Kyja’s looks and compares them to his imagined version of her.

“Ith [sic] your name Kristen or Kelly?” His mouth felt as if he’d received a shot of Novocain.

She shook her head and laughed. “Kris-ten? What a strange name! I’m Kyja.”

Marcus thinks that Kyja’s name suits her. Awwwwww. He asks her if it isn’t a dream after all, and she says she’s “pretty sure it’s real.” He asks her if Arizona, America, and Earth have any meaning to her, and Riph Raph immediately cuts in saying Marcus is a liar because of the weird words he’s saying. I really don’t like Riph Raph. Riph Raph goes on to complain about how Marcus doesn’t know what a skyte is, causing pointless drama because that’s just the kind of obnoxious character he is.

Marcus STILL isn’t convinced that he’s not dreaming. He decides to experiment more with his newly functioning body. He can stand on his own now, which is a big thing for him. Staring at the scenery some more, Marcus mentions that he was at the tower (that I assume is the tower in Terra ne Staric) with Kyja in one of his dreams. Riph Raph then sees something suspicious in the distance, and tells them they need to leave quickly, because (surprise, surprise) they’re still at risk of being caught by the bad guys!

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