Hence the King from Kagehana, Pt. II

They all had to die. That was the right thing, Saga knew for certain, so he buried his fingers into the mound and found the fuse. He yanked it free, unraveling hand over hand, clearing it of fetid earth and inspecting it for rot and wear as he went. When he held a full thirty sticks’ worth, he laid straight the line and prepared the flint and replotted his escape route, upwind so the little things couldn’t smell him when they came.

“You know the Knots,” Saga muttered to still the panic-tide.
The Red Cord

Ordinary catastrophe. Is there such a creature? All catastrophe feels extraordinary to the one caught in its tide. It is no comfort to the ones whose fortunes I read, to say to them, This thing is ordinary, this thing that will happen to you.

It is my ordinary catastrophe, to share nightly all of theirs.
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To the Gods of Time and Engines, a Gift

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The silent commands were with her all the time now, haunting and familiar.