All those people waxing on about how Bethany was a lovely girl, how she was surely at peace, stood at the Maker's side— it didn't make her any less dead. It didn't make Lothering any less gone, or the Blight any less destructive. He'd always hated it, like fine grains of sand in an open wound, tearing it back open.

His way doesn't work for everyone. But it seems like it works for her, which is good enough.

"I gave up after the first four or five." There's something sour and a little petulant in his tone. He's not really much of a book guy, just in general. "Didn't think there was a way for anything to be more annoying than everyone talking gibberish at me, but even I'll take something over a whole bloody shelf of nothing." He scowls at the fire. Every new roadblock just compounds his frustration. "Beats me why they didn't just burn them in the first place."