Peppermint swirled into my nostrils, sharp as glass, then raspberry almost to sweet, like too-ripe fruit. Apple, crisp and pure. Nuts, buttery, warm, earthy

whoopdie-friggin-doo, fooled you!

I don't think I'd like to argue with you," I say. "I think it would be a very dissatisfying pastime.

Eleanor's voice was below zero. 'My finest horse to whichever faerie in this room brings me that woman's left eye.' My thoughts exactly.

You two are a strange pair. You are a pair, aren't you?" "We're in training.

Happiness isn't something this island yields easily; the ground is too rocky and the sun too sparse for it to flourish.

If you never saw the stars, candles were enough.