Henry shuffled the jewelled insect back out of his pocket. It amber heart warmed light through the pit again. “Back in the lab, of course, as father dear tries to copy it with nonmagical parts. My mother told me to keep this one to remind me of what I am.”“And what is that?”The bee illuminated both itself and Henry: its translucent wings, Henry’s wickedly cut eyebrows.“Something more.
-Maggie Stiefvater
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