"The Price of Glory" by Patrick Shannon
An Elegant Sweep of History Through the Lenses of a Brilliant Storyteller
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The Price of Glory
Patrick ShannonOutskirts Press (2023)ISBN: 978-1977266132Reviewed by Lily Andrews for Reader Views (12/2023)
“The Price of Glory” is a fresh and captivating historical fiction novel written by award-winning author, Patrick Shannon. Here, readers are introduced to Robert de La Salle, a French explorer and a fur trader who manages to convince the king that France’s influences…
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i almost didn't go out today; some weekends i tag along with moxie to the big city and go to an antique mall or two while she's on her shift
but today..... im so glad i went today! i found one of my pony holy grails!! the wedding prance with glory and moondancer!!!! this is going on our wedding cake!!! the lesbian pony wedding!!!
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Eddie and Frank are already revealed to be husbands, so that's one ship for you.
(Was it husbands or was it just implied them being pretty gay for each other DJSHFYDUD)
also true but I must gain true happiness for my boi howdy for he is truly a silly goofy bug man who runs da shop and exists to give barnaby the sacred hotdog for a mere funny silly-
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Price of Glory
"True strength lies in action. Let the weak react to me." —Kamahl, pit fighter
Artist: Darrell Riche
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"You great big, fat, son of a bitch."
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i've read stalking multiple times in the past couple years but only this last time i re-read it i just. WAIT GUYS HELLO WAIT WHAT. THIS WAS SITTING RIGHT THERE THE WHOLE TIME???? SINCE BEFORE THE REST OF THE SERIES WAS WRITTEN????? which is a reaction i’ve had multiple times rereading the series. anyway lmao. lol. lol lmao even! [major spoilers for the lives that argue for us under the cut]:
And [Safirah's] left arm is blackened.
Well, it’s more like a reddish-brown, with a slight, flickering glow under the skin. But it’s burned, burned horribly—the skin twists and turns, and it’s easy to see how it wouldn’t be usable at all. Adding to that impression is the fact that Safirah doesn’t move it, not even for balance: it really was their price, then.
….
Actually, as Tamar continues to look at it—she’s allowed to, she reminds herself, no one will even care or notice—she realizes that the twists on the skin are actually moving. There are patterns there, patterns of flames and not of flames at all; Tamar squints at it. She continues to watch Safirah’s arm as the debaters take their seats, trying to follow the patterns there. She’s becoming half-convinced that they mean something—
….
So instead she focuses on Safirah’s face, trying to discern if there’s anything in the way they smile that hints at the power underneath them. The power that has burned them, changed them. She looks long and hard, finding her eyes drawn to Safirah’s. They seem hard, somehow. Like diamonds.
….
God, the patterns of the burn really do seem to be moving—and wait, the glow… oh. The glow beneath their skin moves too, in a different way from the marks on the skin itself. In the glow also, Tamar swears she can see patterns, if only it would stop moving for a second. She wonders if they’re the same patterns as the ones on the skin. Do they complement each other? Do they mean something different?
...
—perhaps it’s not something consistent at all. Maybe it represents whatever God’s thinking about, right now, at this moment, or what if it’s even what God and Safirah are thinking, saying in reaction to each other…?
Tamar puts a hand to her mouth in amazement.
BECAUSE IN LIVES…….written WAY LATER I KNOW….
There is an esoteric theory that a Holy’s price is not a manifestation only of God’s soul but also of the Holy’s, involuntary in much the same way as God’s manifestation upon Their name being spoken is. This theory is not yet proven, though it has some evidence in the different echoing patterns of each price left in dead Holies’ skeletons, understood as the imprint of each Holy in God’s soul. […]
......
Strangely [Tesena] thinks ae knows an answer, suspects it and walks around its edge like a blue flame in a chemistry lab—exactly like that. It is like a chemical reaction, and how ae combines with God is not how ae combines with Kjorel.
But then—does that mean—is to be Holy itself also and always a chemical reaction, a combination—Teśena is shrugging his shoulders, not knowing, though digging as if in the sand of this thought with curiosity.
And Kjorel is—reeling a different way than sensation itself makes him reel. He had never known, had never expected, that there could be this much left unknown about the world…
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