Tell me what it's like. The race." "What it's like is a battle. A mess of horses and men and blood. The fastest and strongest of what is left from two weeks of preparation on the sand. It's the surf in your face, the deadly magic of November on your skin, the Scorpio drums in the place of your heartbeat. It's speed, if you're lucky. It's life and it's death or it's both, and there's nothing like it.

It's rude to stare, but the great thing about staring at a sedated person is that they don't know you're doing it.

I’ve been dead for seven years, that’s as warm as they get.

i never pegged you for a fan of the obvious, sam", "i'm not, otherwise, i would've said, 'hey, shouldn't you be in school ?'", "touche

I thought you said scrying was a bad idea.” “It's like vodka,” Calla said. “It really depends on who's doing it.

I always listen to you. Except when I don't.

This time, it was more of a thought than a feeling, a soft heat that began at her mouth and unfurled through the rest of her.