Ari Marmell

“Your sarcasm is unwelcome here, Horseman," the Crowfather rasped at him. "Pity. It seems determined to follow me everywhere.”

“Creation is quite impressionable. Everyone leaves a trail of their actions. And everyone, however wise, however powerful, however immortal, makes mistakes. All it requires is the patience to wait for them. And you'll find no one, in all Creation, quite so patient as Death.”

“Genevieve hunched her shoulders against the storm of sound and fury and struggled to imagine a worse sort of hell. Widdershins, of course, seemed perfectly happy, but Widdershins was weird.”

“The front door of the Flippant Witch gave a series of loud clicks and swung inward. Renard Lambert, his blue-and-purple finery resembling a plum in the twitching lanterns, practically hurled himself through the open doorway“Widdershins!” he called loudly, cape flowing behind him, “I—gaaack!” He ducked, barely in time to avoid the carafe that shattered loudly against the wall just behind his head. The tinkling of broken glass, a dangerous entry chime indeed, sounded around him.“Oh,” Genevieve said, her tone only vaguely contrite. “It's just your friend. Sorry, Renard.”“Sorry? Sorry?! What the hell were you—ah. Um, hello, ah, Widdershins."Widdershins, who had lurched to her feet as the door opened, was suddenly and forcibly reminded by Renard's stunned stare that Genevieve had disrobed her in order to get at the rapier wound. Blushing as furiously as a nun in a brothel, she ducked behind her blonde-haired friend and groped desperately for her shirt.“Didn't mean to take your head off, Renard,” Genevieve said, mainly to distract him. “But you rather startled us.”“Quite understandable,” the popinjay responded absently, his eyes flickering madly as he fought to locate some safe place to put them.”

“Can I ask one more question?”Cateline repressed a sigh. “One more. Then you need to eat your supper.”“If Davillon has so many gods, how come not one of them got off his butt and saved my mommy and daddy?!”

“It was one of the primary rules of thievery. When hiding, sneaking, and trickery are all out, the correct answer is "run like hell.”

“Corvis smiled around a mouthful of venison, trying to catch the juices before they rolled down his chin. "I think you're being just a bit paranoid, Davro. Legends and superstition." "You'll change your tune quickly enough when some banshee's sucking your soul out through your pupils.”

“Olgun?, she asked, her tone again little more than abreath."Dogs?"A pause, an answer."Ah. And do you think you should maybe do somethingabout that?"Self-satisfied gloating."You already did." It wasn't a question.Another affirmative.Widdershins sighed. "I hope you didn't hurt them."Olgun sent a flash of horror running through her, so strongthat she felt herself shudder."All right, I'm sorry!, she hissed. I know you like dogs. Iknow you wouldn't hurt them! I wasn't thinking!"The god sniffed haughtily.”

“Olgun! Wake up!"Her mind was filled with a sense of self-righteous andvaguely drowsy protest."Sure you weren't, she needled at him. You were justpracticing snoring, so you'd be sure to get it right later on,yes?"Olgun's response very strongly resembled an indignantsnort.”

“And if, behind closed eyes, Cerris saw a face other than hers, a face so slightly younger, gazing at him sadly across a gulf of lost years and broken promises... Well, it would never hurt her if she never knew.”