The Raven Spell

He imagined her being more like a placid dark lake that one had to give their soul over to for the privilege of knowing how deep her waters ran.

Love was a potion as potent as hemlock or wolfsbane

Neither she nor her sister could resist collecting the shiny trinkets that churned up with the river's tide. Rings, bottles, spoons, keys, combs, bones - there was always something new coughed up on the bank, as if the water grew perpetually ill on the taste of human detritus.

wear an air of strangeness in a crowd of sameness always found them out.

I suppose everyone leaves in the end, don’t they? But not you, sister. Promise we’ll always have each other.” Edwina squeezed her sister’s hand, assuring her she’d spoken a holy vow out loud. Forever and for always, they would have each other to rely on in this life, even if no one else would have them.

The implied pejorative of “up north” struck home.

He’d left money enough to cover one month of living expenses, but the sisters had run the shop on their own ever since with the expectation their gray-headed father would one day walk back through the door. Or perhaps not. When their mother had left in similar fashion with a wave and a hand-blown kiss one year earlier, they’d never seen her again. Not a letter, a telegram, or even a whispered word carried on a trail of smoke.

[S]ometimes it's necessary to put one foot on each side of the law to walk a straight line.

Never ask a question you don't want to know the answer to.

If a mortal has the power to move a human’s emotions with mere words, that’s an alchemy all its own. And something we can use to our advantage.

[W]hat made them contrary was their apathy towards other people's opinions about them. Well, outward appearances were one thing. Inside, with only each other to confide in, they felt the cold shoulder of rejection the same as anyone.

as if the water grew perpetually ill on the taste of human detritus.

The finality of a person's life confounded the ego. How could a body and mind that walked, talked, and had brilliant, witty thoughts suddenly cease to be? How could a body shrug off its mortal coil and become common carrion simply because the blood stopped pumping through the veins? How could the mind and all its memories become mere wisps of nothingness floating in the ether because the spark of thought no longer flared bright inside the cranium? The mystery of human death was too grand to be regarded as anything less than sacred by those facing their own mortality.

sometimes it’s necessary to put one foot on each side of the law to walk a straight line.

Instead, he took hold of both her hands, drawing her closer to him. "Miss Blackwood, I find you many things - brave, remarkable, enchanting - but strange isn't one of them.

By the way, why do you call Miss Blackwood 'milady'?" Hob jumped in the coal bin and shrugged, "It would be rude not to.

We were fortunate to have finished

Magic like his father had told him about on firelit nights when the wind howled outside and the veil between worlds thinned enough to fear for your soul should you sit too near the window. Chapter Twenty-Five Moonlight rippled on the river’s surface, drawing Edwina back to the water.

The attraction to death was always the same. For Mary, certainly, but for those who accused her as well. Death was the ultimate fascination. The finality of a person’s life confounded the ego. How could a body and mind that walked, talked, and had brilliant, witty thoughts suddenly cease to be? How could a body shrug off its mortal coil and become common carrion simply because the blood stopped pumping through the

What does one ever need books for? To read what is not already in the head.

rearranging the dust in the shop

You know what the mortals call a gathering of our kind?” Mary asked with a derisive laugh. “An Unkindness. Well deserved, don’t you think? Me and you.