_War Storm_ by Victoria Aveyard

Revolution

"Whatever we accomplished would die with you. Don't take this the wrong way, but the world we want to build has to outlive us." p9 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

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"And what does your government consider a long debate?"
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"Oh, years." Davidson sighs, matching her forced humor. "Democracy is a funny thing. Not that any of you know that yet." p25 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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"And while your cause is just, accordances must be made. You are a group with no nation, no citizens to answer to. Your methods are beyond the usual bounds of war. We have our own to think of." p197 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

On the opposite side of the low room, Cameron taps her knuckles against her greasy window. "You know, maybe this rebellion would be further along if they didn't rely on teenagers so much." She tosses a smirk at Kilorn. "Especially ones who can't read." p309 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Our war with the Lakelands served a purpose. Reds outnumber us. Reds can overthrow us. But not if they die in greater numbers than we do. And not if they fear something else more than they fear the Silvers standing over them. Be it dying in war, or just the Lakelanders. Anyone can be manipulated against their own interests, if given the right circumstances. My ancestors knew that well enough, in their deepest hearts. To maintain power they lied, they manipulated, they spilled blood. Just not their own. They sacrificed life, but not the lives closest to them. p373 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Neither can I, no matter how much he pledges to bring change. The pattern will simply repeat, in his children, or his grandchildren, down the line of kings and queens. Cal refuses to see what must be done. He doesn't have the stomach for the sacrifice required to make a better world. p445 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

My grip on myself begins to loosen, and I try to hold back, ignoring the telltale tightening in my throat as I speak. Saying all of this out loud, to people who have made this world cruel, or kept it that way, has a strange effect. I feel as if I could cry or explode, and I don't know which way I might tip. I want to take Anabel by the shoulders or grab Volo by the neck, force them to listen and see what they've done and what they want to continue doing. But if they keep their eyes shut? or if they look and see nothing wrong? What more can I do? p166 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

"It can't be done," Cal replies, his voice blunt. He puts his hands out, palms up, empty.  With nothing to offer. "It just can't be done. Not now. In time, maybe, but the High Houses won't kneel if there isn't a king. We'll splinter. Norta won't exist anymore. We don't have time to change our entire form of government while preparing for an inevitable invasion--" p467 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Character

I wonder how much restraint it's taking to stop her from marching back up there to rip Ptolemus's eyes out of his skull. I wouldn't stop her if she could. In fact, I'd pull up a chair and watch. p5 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Quickly, I [Evangeline]  put a hand to my mouth, stifling a surprised giggled. Mare Barrow is so wickedly talented when it comes to upsetting Calore men. At this point, I wonder if she plans it. Lies awake at night and schemes how best to confuse Maven or distract Cal. p25 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Both Cal and Mare lower their eyes at the same moment, as if fighting not to look at each other. p26 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Perhaps that's why he pursues Mare Barrow with such a dogged focus. The stories seem true enough. I've seen proof of them myself. She's not just a powerful newblood, the strange kind of Red with abilities like our own, but the exiled prince loves her. A Red girl. Having met her, I can almost understand why. Even imprisoned, she fought. She resisted. She was a puzzle I would have enjoyed piecing together. And, it seems, she's a trophy for Calore brothers to scrap over. Nothing compared to the crown, but still something for jealous, feuding boys to tug back and forth like dogs with a bone. p56 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Decoration only. Pretty, useless, silent things. Just like my parents want me to be. p95 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Cal says nothing to me, and I'm glad for it. We haven't truly spoken in months. Not since he escaped death in the Bowl of Bones. Before, when he was my betrothed for the first time, our conversations were few and dull. Cal has a mind for battle and Mare Barrow. Neither interest me much. p98-99 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

The entire dinner party scene is an excellent example of showing character, not telling. I honestly think you can have students read this chapter, completely unfamiliar with the series, and have them tell you what they know about the characters. It's my plan the next time I teach Creative Writing. It's chapter ch 8, p 115

But I wouldn't do it to her now. Wouldn't hurt her for anyone on this earth, even with the best healers in the world waiting to attend her. Not for my father, or for my crown. If only Calore felt as strongly for Mare. If only he loved her as I love Elane. p208 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

I cluck my tongue. "Don't be a coward-- you know Father wouldn't risk you or me in an ill-fated siege." We are well-cared-for investments, Tolly. His legacy depends on our survival. p258 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Cameron only tightens her jaw. "This isn't my home, Barrow. No prison is ever a home," she murmurs. "And that's all these slums are." p301 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

[He- removing name to avoid spoilers] shudders as I watch, a tremor that starts in his fingers. His fear is terrifying. Then he forces himself to look back at me. With his feet planted and his hands firmly settled on his hips, he is rooted. [He] won't move unless I do. Or he is simply letting me choose. Letting me decide for the both of us. He probably thinks it's the honorable thing to do. p369 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Laughter from Maven is an odd sound. Forced. The air pushed out, the sound calculated and formed, an imitation of what he thinks a laugh should sound like. It rankles his brother, and Cal shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. p423 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Whatever snake coils in his brain has eyes for one person. He stares up at his brother, unblinking, his chest rising and falling in tiny puffs of breath. I forgot how similar they are, even as half brothers. Not just in coloring, but in their fire. Determined, driven. Constructions of their parents. Cal is built from his father's dreams, and Maven from his mother's nightmares. p458  War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

 "You keep blaming your mother. I suppose that's easy." My heart leaps in my chest when her feet slide. Moving sideways. Not closer, not father. Now it's her turn to prowl. "You think Cal's father didn't make him into something too? You think we all aren't made or unmade by someone else?" Even though she's only walking, it feels like a dance. I mirror her movements, stepping with her. She's more graceful than I am, a lithe thief born of many years and many twists of fate. "But we all still have the ability to choose, in the end. and you chose to keep the blood on your hands." p562 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Life Choices

I feel cut in two, torn in different directions. An obvious question hangs in my mind. Another choice that I might need to make. His life or our victory? I don't know which side I might choose, if I ever have to. which side I might betray. The knife of that knowledge cuts deep, and I bleed where no one else can see. p12 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

It would mean war, of course, shattering an alliance already spiderwebbed with cracks. Could I do such a thing-- trade my loyalties for happiness? It feels shameful just to ask the question, even in the safety of my own head. p16 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

I watch her as she follows her father, small gown trailing over concrete. Her outfit reminds me of a bride's dress, and I wonder who she will be traded to, as I was traded, when the time comes. p234  War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Just other stuff I loved

Cal could have ended my misery, broken our betrothal, refused Father's offer of my hand. But for the crown, he threw Mare away. For the crown, he trapped me. p19 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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I swallow thickly. The tears don't feel so immediate anymore. "When did you become so wise?"

He grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I read now."

"Do they have pictures?"

Barking a laugh, he starts walking again. "You're such a kind person." p83 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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"Good morning," he replies. He looks handsome as ever. Perhaps more so. The raider battle hangs on him, and I can almost smell the ash he spent the night scrubbing away. Maybe don't think about him bathing, I snap to myself. p186 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

He's probably off arguing with Mare again, pretending not to look at her lips while he does it. The prince is terribly predictable, and I hope the pair of them will boil over into some not-so-secret secret relationship once more. Will I be expected to guard the door? I sneer to myself. p252 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

I told him we would be safe, even on the front lines of battle. Father would not waste us. Father would not let us go anywhere that might jeopardize his legacy. I suck down a poisoned breath, still scanning the silhouettes around me as the ash falls like summer snow. It coats our uniforms, no matter the color. We all start to look the same. p330 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Farley's hand clasps my shoulder, her grip firm but soft. "I'm not going to tell you to get over it," she whispers in my ear. "But you have to get through it. Just for now." p416 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

I can love him, and perhaps always will, but I can't make him move when he decides to stay still. The same could be said of me. p469 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Maven won't get the gentle treatment given to Bracken's children. p511 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard     I wonder here, if Mare knew what had happened with the Bracken children, would it change her stance? How much would this simple piece of information have changed the trajectory of the story?

Cal's face seems burned against my eyelids, while Maven haunts even my fleeting, distant dreams. Those stupid boys. They never leave me alone. p517 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

"Everyone is someone else's pawn, Mare, whether we know it or not." p524 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

"So clever," I muse. "Not all crowns are worn where people can see." p565 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Thank you to the public school system that launched me out of a small town and into the big city. p661 (Acknowledgements)  War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Sass

I tighten at such a foolish thought. "I am a queen and a princess, not a dog playing fetch."

"Of course you aren't a dog, my dear." Maven offers a sneer, never breaking his stride. "Dogs obey."

Instead of recoiling, I brush off the naked insult with a sigh. "I suppose you're right, my king." My last card to play is a good one. "After all, you have experience where hostages are concerned." p58 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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Some of the steps are uneven and too high, forcing me to scramble. Kilorn watches me go, almost laughing. I can call forth lightning, but tall steps are apparently beyond me. p597 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard 

World Building

description of religion in Lakelands p59

We round a massive telescope, pointed at the domed roof, made of tubes and glass fixtures. A waste, I think. The stars are well beyond the reach of anyone, even Silvers. They are the realm of gods and gods alone. They are not for us to fathom. To try is to squander time, resources, energy. p179 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

"A beacon of freedom. A hope. A light in the darkness surrounding us. Montfort is a country, the only one on this continent, where the color of blood does not rule. Where Red and Silver, and Ardent, work in tandem, hand in hand, to build a better future for all of our children." p192 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

My concentration breaks for a moment as my focus shifts to my brother. I can sense him behind me, and easily trace the shape of his armor. We each carry a small but solid disk of copper tucked into our belts. And odd metal for an attack. Easy to distinguish and feel. Easy to track. I hold on to the sensation of his and mine, memorizing it. If things go wrong, I want to be able to find Tolly as quickly as I can. p324 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

I despise the sight. The shimmering throne, the simple crown on his head. Rose gold, like his grandmother's. Finer than iron. More elegant. Less violent. A crown for peace, not war. p455 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Discrimination/ prejudice

Gisa is just as disgusted. "Only they would stop to arrange a marriage in the middle of a war." p80 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

My father said that once, in the shadow of a stilt house. He sat in a chair, missing a leg. I used to think he was broken. I know better now. Dad is as whole as the rest of us, and always has been. He just wanted to protect us from the pain of wanting what we could not have. Futures we would never be allowed. Our fates have been quite different. And it seems my father has changed with them. He can hope. p92-93 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

For reasons I can't fathom, his golden eyes soften. I see pity. I see regret. I see hate. "So you are denied what you want because of what you are. A choice you never made, a piece of yourself you cannot change- and do not want to change." p103 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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An example of the importance of representation starts at 103 above and continues throughout the Evangeline storyline.  She cannot even dream for the future she wants because she does not know it exists-- until Montfort.
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They are Red. They are lesser. And they are happy. How can this be? p106 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

"My fellow countrymen," he says, his voice carrying across the amphitheater with ease. p192 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard (This is Davidson addressing his congress. Interesting choice of words considering we quickly see it does include women.)

I see it before my eyes. Red representatives with their blooming flushes alongside Silver. A newblood leaver walking the floor before us. Farley, her blood red as the dawn, sitting so close to a Silver king. And even me. I'm here too. My voice matters. My hope matters. p193 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

With a last embrace, Mare finally finishes all her hysterical nonsense. She turns tightly, shoulders squared away from her brood. Their faces vary, but they have the same likeness. Similar coloring, dark eyes and golden-toned skin. Dark brown hair but for the sister and the graying parents. There's a common roughness to them, born in their blood. As if they were shaped from earth and we were shaped from stone. p207 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

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"Reds?" Mother scoffs. She even rolls her eyes. I grit my teeth against a sigh of frustration. "They're of little importance.

"That kind of thinking will be our ruin, Mother," I tell her as sternly as I can. One queen to another. Listen to me. p385 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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"...Yes, we make them thinking themselves inferior, insignificant, to keep them controlled. But we risk falling into our own trap if we forget to fear them too." p386 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

The Samos king scoffs at me, disgusted. "This world is neither right nor fair, girl. I could think anyone born Red would know that," he sniffs. next to him, Evangeline keeps still, her eyes on the floor, her mouth pursed shut. "You're not our equals, no matter how much you try to be. That is nature." p466 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard 

I've never thought myself akin to Reds in any way. I'm a Silver-born lady, a princess made by the accomplishments of a powerful father. I was meant to be a queen. And but for the longing in my heart, the odd changes to my nature I've only begun to understand, I would be one. Davidson was right about Montfort. Like Reds, I am different from what my world demands I be. And I am not worse for it. p487 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Lakelanders never want for food, not even the lowest Red. p501 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Humor
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"An interesting thing, the bison and the cow. So similar. Two branches of the same tree, though entirely different from one another. And separate as they are, divided as the species can be, they live alongside each other just fine. Mingle their herds. They can even breed." 

Next to me, Tiberias coughs, almost choking on a piece of food.

My cheeks flame hot.

Evangeline laughs into her hand.

Farley finishes the bottle of wine.

"Have I said something impertinent?" Carmadon glances between us, his black eyes dancing. He knows exactly what he said and what it means. p128-129 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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All that stands between me and a reunion with the ones I love most is a few short hours of flight. Squeezed alongside Cal and Mare and whatever dramatic sighs and meaningful stares they might toss at each other, yes, but I can handle it. Ptolemus is waiting. p208 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Thomas stuff

You're like Thomas was, Maven told me once. I hear him still muttering in my head. You are the only person I care about, the only person who reminds me I am alive. Not empty. Not alone. p200 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

I wince as his name crosses my thoughts. Mother couldn't remove him either. Not the agony of his loss, nor the memory of his love. p376 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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She wasn't enough for me either. Enough to make me change, to pull me back from what I've willingly become.

I wonder if Thomas would have been enough.

As usual, the splitting headache comes whenever I think his name, or remember his face, or feel his touch on my hands.  p557 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard
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Beyond my reach, beyond the sphere of Silent Stone. I ache for my ability the way I ache for Mare, for Thomas, for who I was supposed to be. p562 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Building Tension

The scene with Evangeline and Mare training together is good for building tension. It starts on page 266 (chapter 16).


Discussion

Leadership suits Cameron, though she'll never admit it. She squares her shoulders as we approach, drawing herself up to her towering height. I wonder if she's even turned sixteen yet. No teenager should be as calm, collected, and fearless as she is. p299 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard

Potential Spoilers

"You're about to be a king, Cal. You could dream with your eyes open, and build what you wish." p543 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard  

I did find a mistake this time

"That's settles it, I suppose," she sighs. p432 War Storm by Victoria Aveyard