The Ophanim murmured in his ear, mournfully contrite. Before, in Callow, the Choir of Mercy had been able to see through the skein of her. Where threads may lead, choices that may or may not be.  And with his own eyes, his sight of what moved the Queen of Callow, together they had considered what she might yet become.

- Book 5, Interlude: Death They Cannot Steal

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Whispers, sharp and urgent. Not because of the woman’s words, for those were no surprise, but for something unfolding. There was, the Ophanim conveyed, to be another great breach between Creation and Arcadia. Soon, and it would be calamitous in some way.

- Book 5, Interlude: So We Shot Him