“Bint-Anath was approaching, her many-pleated, floor-length sheath floating scarlet around her, her slim shoulders visible under a billowing white flounced cloak, and the long black ringlets of her wig already glistening with melted wax... She was like a goddess, like Hathor herself, moving lightly in the circle of reverence the guests had provided, her pair of massive Shardana guards towering beside her and her exquisitely gowned and painted retinue behind.”
“Khaemwaset’s eyes remained on the riverbank as the green confusion of spring glided by. Beyond the fecund, brilliant life of the bank with its choked river growth, its darting, piping birds, its busy insects and occasionally its sleepy grinning crocodiles, was a wealth of rich black soil in which the fellahin were struggling, knee-deep, to strew the fresh seed.”
“The feathery palms that lined the drainage canals, the acacia thorns and sycamores, all glistened with the sheen of new, pale-green leaves, and in Khaemwaset’s gardens the vivid clusters of flowers had begun to bloom with an abandon that assaulted the eyes and filled the nostrils with delight.”
“The apple trees were in full bloom, the scent enveloping the party in a heady, almost palpable mist, and pale petals rocked on the glittering surface of the water and lay in white mats against the banks.”
“He watched the early light of the new moon glint fretfully on the river, now silver slivers, now darkness, as the night breeze stirred the choked growth on the banks and lifted the tree branches. The watersteps were a deserted invitation, and he envied Hori who must surely even now be reclining on the bottom of his skiff, Antef beside him, their fishing lines tied to the boat whilst they watched the stars and gossiped. His fountain tinkled like music in the darkness, and the monkeys sighed and snuffled in their favourite warm spot under the stone basin, which still held the warmth of the day’s heat.”
“Noon was approaching and the shadows under the sycamores were thin and short. The surface of the blue-tiled fish-pond was glassily still and water splashed monotonously into the fountain’s basins. Khaemwaset held his fingers under the glittering flow and found it silky and warm.”
“The beauty of a living thing is not the atoms that go into it, but the way those atoms are put together.”
“Do you know why Satan is so angry all the time? Because whenever he works a particularly clever bit of mischief God uses it to serve his own Rigteous purposes."
"So God uses wicked people as his tools?"
"God gives us the freedom to to do great evil, if we choose, then He uses his own freedom to create goodness out of that evil, for that is what He chooses."
"So, in the long run, God always wins?"
"Yes, in the short run though it can be uncomfortable.”
“I missed you,” he said quietly, his gaze darting between her mouth and eyes. “When I was in
Wendlyn. I lied when I said I didn’t. From the moment you left, I missed you so much I went out of my
mind. I was glad for the excuse to track Lorcan here, just to see you again. And tonight, when he had
that knife at your throat …” The warmth of his callused finger bloomed through her as he traced a path
over the cut on her neck. “I kept thinking about how you might never know that I missed you with only
an ocean between us. But if it was death separating us … I would find you. I don’t care how many
rules it would break. Even if I had to get all three keys myself and open a gate, I would find you
again. Always.”
“Elective ignorance was a great survival skill, perhaps the greatest.”
“The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their silence at times of crisis.”
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