Quotes from Storm Constantine

Over the last ten years, when she could have been cultivating Varencienne's friendship, she had left her to her own devices. What an oversight not to realize the quiet little teenager would turn into a stubborn and independent woman. Varencienne had been a nobody here in Magrast, hidden in the shadow of her brothers. In Caradore, she'd found status and power, things that any Malagash craved, although Varencienne herself would be the last to admit it.

The sight of this place was overpowering, simply because it was abandoned. It had not been just a noble family who had lived here, but a dynasty of great rulers. The Palindrakes had been reduced horribly.

My mood swayed between a desire to weep and a cool, steely anger.

There would be no one god, but only an appreciation of the life force of the universe and its many masks and names.

I don't have a feeling of doom, just impendence.

They danced together, bodies close, belly-grinding to the rhythm, invoking the demands of lust.

The two cousins, Perdina and Voile, emerged from their sanctuary, dressed in white, their black hair loose like curtains around their pale, narrow faces.

A true magus understands he has to dance on both sides of the coin. Utter goodness is as bad as pure evil.

I felt her presence within me, yet part of me knows the desire was utterly mine, the selishness, the heartlessness, the lack of care. Jia smelled it out perhaps and attached herself to it, but I will not blame an elemental force for what took control of me that night. It would be too convenient.

He hurled out toward the battlefield, and someone called his name. Called him back. He did not heed it.

You cannot suppress the female celebration of life.

You are a violent young man, which is quite at odds with the more mystical side of your character, which I am assured exists.

He felt desire, but it wasn't urgent, more a simple need for oneness with this new company.

Owen thought that if Louis looked the way he had the last time he'd seen him, he might believe what he was saying, but this was a man who'd been charmed by Peveral Othman, who'd been altered by him.

Silently, Leeth suffered with the weight of her love for Ays. It seemed like a strangling python, which had wrapped her in a suffocating embrace, and whose coils were too thick and numerous to escape.

She said she would welcome an evening's entertainment, away from the concerns of an addled soulscape.

She remembered the flavor of the dreams, the wet stark fear of them, but the images eluded her. For that, she was grateful.

Things that I cannot see, that are not human, I deal with in the way I deal with anything in the soulscape; with my will.

Are you me, or an earlier version of me, or are you all the Valravens who have ever lived since the day Caradore fell to the Magravands? There is only one, he thought.

All the time he had been lying in wait, pretending to be something he wasn't.

Daniel was in danger, he was sure of it, and Othman was involved.

She was undeniably Ari, female, human, her bare arms pimpled with cold, who shivered in the breeze of a late spring night, who existed solely within the flesh that contained her spirit.

She visualised an image of dark, shady hallways, where fans turned slowly on the ceiling, parting the thick smoke of hashish; dark eyes behind a lattice, the low chuckle of feminine laughter, the swish of light cotton against polished floors. Such a strange summoning.

Varencienne had become a true woman of Caradore, as was right and needful, but she was a spirited young woman. She liked to believe she had autonomy.