Foundryside: A Novel (The Founders Trilogy Book 1)

“Think of the plantations, of slavery. It was to be a short-term fix to a short-term problem. But they grew dependent on it. It became a part of their way of life. And then, without ever realizing it, they couldn’t imagine a way to stop. The choices you make will change you over time, Sancia. Make sure they don’t change you into something you don’t

“So…” said Berenice, staring around. “We’re going to be scriving…and working…and, for a while, living…in a crypt. With…bones.” “Well, if you’re really going to try to break into the Mountain, then you’re probably going to wind up dead anyway,” said Gio. “Maybe this will help you get used to it.”

Berenice tried to comfort him as the rest looked on, hugging Sancia’s body close as Clef wept. “To imagine it,” said Orso. “To imagine that the discovery you’ve sought for so long is…is this ghastly mutilation of the human body and soul…” “And to imagine what the other houses would do,” said Gregor quietly, “if they were to make the same discovery.

They’d told stories of slaves that had bravely borne countless whippings, stoically taking lash after lash. But the instant she’d been whipped, Sancia had realized it’d all been a lie. The second the lash had touched her, all her pride and fury and hope had been dashed away. It was surprising, how fragile your idea of yourself was.

It tried to understand what was wrong, but it couldn’t. Blocking its efforts, blocking all its thoughts, was a single, simple sentiment: You are a tool. You are a thing to be used, and no more. It agreed. Of course it agreed. Because it remembered the wet snap of the whip, and the smell of blood. I was made. I was forged. It remembered the bite and

Reality doesn’t matter. If you can change something’s mind enough, it’ll believe whatever reality you choose.”

The heat within the foundry was immense, but there was a constant wind in every hall and passage, carrying the hot air out to—well, somewhere, she assumed. It was like being trapped in the innards of some kind of giant, mindless creature.

“Why do you react with such horror? Don’t you wish this man dead for what he did to you? For capturing you, for beating you, for slashing your head open?” “Sure I do,” said Sancia. “Man’s a shit. But that doesn’t mean you’re decent. I mean, even though I might sympathize with you, that doesn’t mean you’re going to let me go, does it? I’d ruin your

Captain Riggo possessed the virtue that Tevanne valued most of all: the ability to ignore what was right in front of his eyes for a huge sum of money.