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The largest one collapsed onto her, forcing its weight down onto her shoulders, adding to the weight of her robe. She felt the Eldrazi's serrated front limbs trying to immobilize her—or crush her flat. She grunted under its weight, trying to maintain her footing. Her spine bent painfully, and she fell onto her knees.

She pushed up at the creature's legs, and its spines sank into her hands. Still it pressed down, and Chandra's grimace of effort became a snarl. She summoned all her strength, set her feet, and shoved back at it. The sky manta passed over her. Had the scout seen her? The elf scout whistled, and the flyer wheeled again, sinking lower as it turned back toward Chandra. There was no time. Chandra eyed the Eldrazi creatures, and felt her skin prickle with heat.

She tucked and spun her body, and the spin became rage, and the rage became fire. Flames of the Firebrand Art by Steve Argyle. She emitted a dome of flame, pushing out from her body in all directions. For a moment all she saw was the flash of her own fire, but then she saw the night around her again, and the creatures were on their backs, but still alive. Their scorched bodies and legs scrambled for purchase.

They clambered upright and rattle-shrieked at her. She crossed her forearms in front of her, built up mana from the mountain under her feet—and slashed her arms out to her sides, creating a tripartite blade of fire that sliced through each one of them. She squeezed her fists in triumph. She half-shouted out, but caught herself and slapped a hand over her mouth.

She glanced up again, sidestepping back under the tree line. The elf scout passed over her, eyes glued to the smoking Eldrazi corpses. Her body trembled, a drumbeat of dread and exhilaration hammering inside her. She pressed her back against a tree trunk, covering the reflective glass of her goggles with the sleeve of her robe, hoping to stay hidden.

That's it. That's all I came for. Just to know they're safe. Just to know—that they don't need me. She began her planeswalk back to Regatha. The landscape of Zendikar began to melt around her. She allowed herself one more glance back at Gideon and the others. That's when she saw that shape on the horizon—the thing she had dismissed as a floating landmass or irregular mountain. In the first rays of predawn, she could see that the giant shape on the horizon moved. It slowly undulated its limbs, which meant it had limbs.

Its twin jawbones shone pale and jagged in the night. It wasn't just looming. It was approaching. It was heading toward Sea Gate, toward Gideon and the others, carving its death-path across the world.

It threatened to destroy all life in its way. The creatures she had fought—those were insignificant compared to this monstrosity. This—Ulamog— this was what the true battle was about. This was what caused that death-dust smell that was new to the world, and what her compatriots were risking their lives to confront. She was already planeswalking away from there. Regatha faded into existence around her, replacing the stretch of land that led to the hedrons, that led to her friends, that led to the Eldrazi titan.

Her bedchamber brightened as it formed around her, morning light streaking in the windows. The sound of urgent knocking at the door came to Chandra's ears as the world resolved.

Promises to Keep by Joe Biden: | Books

The door jerked open, and Mother Luti's irritated face emerged. To Chandra, it looked like she was shimmering through a still-lingering afterimage of Ulamog. The Address! The chants have already started! Chandra slowly closed her mouth. She was still wearing the robe—Serenok's robe.

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The embroidered mantle had a tiny tear in the sleeve now, from where an Eldrazi's serrated pincer had lanced into her bicep. Swimming in a surreal fog, she walked two steps, bent down, and picked up the sheaf of parchment pages: her speech. She looked at the door. It led to the rest of the Keep, to her students, to Mother Luti, to Regatha. Her feet just didn't know how to move toward it.

Suddenly she crunched the pages into a clumped ball in her hands. The pages burst into flames, burning up in a flash. She let them drop as flakes of ash out of her fingers. The abbot greeted her students with a nod of her head. So many faces looking back at her across the great hall of Keral Keep.

Mother Luti looked on from the back.


She clung to the stone obelisk that acted as her podium, trying to remember how words worked. She coughed into her robe's sleeve. She furrowed her brow, trying to recall some Abbot Serenok sayings. In all our hearts.

That fire. So that it. She glanced up and saw Mother Luti's face. That was a mistake. Chandra rubbed her temples with her forefingers. I had no idea what to do with this thing, at all. She shook her hand and the fire went out again. You didn't try to control me.

You didn't try to change me. You taught me how to express who I was in my own way. She looked out at the dozens of individual faces before her. Each of you is a separate, individual you. You are not the fire-monks of Keral Keep, not really. You are not the devotees of the teachings of Jaya. You are not here to listen to me or any other abbot. You are a unique person, with wild ideas about what's truly important. You're only here because it's a place where you're allowed to find out who you are.

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Am I really saying this , she thought. Am I saying what I think I'm saying? Chandra looked for Mother Luti's face, but couldn't find her in the crowd anymore. The monks looked at one another again. Chandra undid the belt of the abbot's robe, pulled her arms out of the sleeves, and shouldered out of it—she wore her usual armor underneath. She let the robe hang from her hands, gently, the way one holds an important treasure that was meant for someone else.

A way you can help that others couldn't. And the way you express that gift is to hear this: trust yourself. A woman's lover poisons her cruel husband, a rich businessman, in front of her. She becomes more terrified when she finds the lover dead as well. A police detective suddenly shows up at her door. A father serving time for murder convinces his three teenage sons that his life is being threatened by fellow inmates and that they should break him out of jail.

However, when his sons To keep from being separated, four orphans get a homeless maverick to pose as their guardian. Set in the s, several foreigners held by a South American military group are offered possible freedom if they accept to topple a local crazed military leader. Just as Jeremy Jackson attempts to become the first male firewoman in New York, fires begin mysteriously erupting from toilets all over the City and Fire Marshal Marc Marshall is called in But as Dean's star begins to rise, his passionate affair with An aging lawman and an aging outlaw join forces when their respective positions in society are usurped by a younger, but incompetent, Marshal, and a younger, but vicious, gang leader.

Nineteen year old Jimmy Graham has grown up to be an angry young man based on his experiences, including not having either his mother or father in his life as he was growing up. When he was A hardened con Robert Mitchum being transferred from a federal penitentiary to a Texas institution to finish a life sentence as a habitual criminal is freed at gunpoint by his niece Adaptation of James Hadley Chase's novel. Having developed a revolutionary device that puts water in the mouth of all secret services in the world, professor Forrester is about to go on a Ernest, Ted and August fulfill their friend Carl's dying wish and take him to Heidelberg, where they all first met 45 years ago, to see his old girlfriend one last time.

However, the locals won't talk about her, due to a WW2 secret. World War II vets travel to England for a reunion at their old base. Once there, one Robert Mitchum rekindles an old romance with an old flame Deborah Kerr. A man who walked out on his family 30 years ago learns he has serious and life threatening illness. Before going to the hospital for treatment, he decides it's time to go back. When he does, his son doesn't welcome him with open arms. He learns that he has a grandson and they bond.

At the same time he learns that his grandson is in trouble and tries to help. Written by rcs yahoo. Promises To Keep is a Mitchum family project where Robert Mitchum co- stars with son Chris and grandson Bentley playing who they are in real life. Bob deserted his wife Claire Bloom and young son thirty years earlier and now has come back in their lives with a secret. He's got cancer and has to get surgery soon if he's to survive any length of time. Chris is a hard unforgiving kind who wants nothing to do with his father. Bentley however is curious about the grandfather that everyone hates and is a big family mystery.

He bonds with him before the others. Young Bentley will need all his family soon. He's gotten himself involved in a smuggling racket thinking it all a great adventure. The film was shot in and around Santa Barbara where Chris Mitchum ekes out a living as a commercial fisherman. He's got all kinds of financial problems himself. As the Mitchum family is playing themselves they fit comfortably into the parts. This family project is nice family entertainment. And Bentley Mitchum is one of the few people I've met who can do justice to a mullet haircut.

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University of Winnipeg Bookstore. Volume One. Words Worth. Yellowknife Book Cellar. About The Book. Promises to Keep ONE June The hummingbirds would return soon, tiny warriors marking the true beginning of summer in their frantic, efficient manner, and I smiled every time I saw them. For now I had to be satisfied with the robins, poking their little beaks into the dirt, retrieving what goodness they could find.

How simple for them, I thought, hoisting my second bucket of water. They pulled their food from the earth and drank their fill from the dew, and they had no chores at all. At the end of the day we would fall back into bed, exhausted and itchy. Ah, but the little birds did not have what I had either, I mused. They could not come inside and warm their feathers by a welcoming fire when the rain raged or the wind banged the shutters of our house.

They could not keep their tiny feet warm in fine woollen socks or wooden clogs like mine. They could not even enjoy the notion of how fortunate we were to live in this wonderful place with a loving family and so many friends. I heard Maman singing, then Giselle joined in with her high, happy voice. My little sister was fourteen, but she often seemed younger than that to me. Setting a bucket on the threshold, I opened the door and walked inside, then poured the water into the large pot hanging over the stove.

No one had been tending the fire, and I glanced at the others, but they seemed not to sense my annoyance. I thought about mentioning their laziness, but their laughter dissuaded me. There was no sense in dampening their good mood. I knelt and coaxed a flame from the pulsing orange logs. Maman shook her head, but she was smiling. How could I have forgotten? Then Claire will have her own home and her own children, and I will be an aunt!

But I suppose it is all right. After the harvest we can enjoy it even more. You are seventeen already. When will you choose a husband? I simply had not met anyone with whom I could imagine spending the rest of my life. When I thought about the hours in a day, then those in a night, I knew my husband would have to be more than just strong and hard-working. He would have to be someone with whom I could talk about anything, and no one in our village had yet reached my standards.

The men in my family have never pressured me to find a husband. Marriage was important, I knew, but they seemed to understand that nagging would do no good. Maman will have breakfast ready soon. I realized I had accidentally interrupted their conversation, and I perked up, listening for clues to the topic.