The Harrowbethian Saga Quotes

Quotes tagged as "the-harrowbethian-saga" Showing 1-14 of 14
Richelle E. Goodrich
“Despair is not for the living
but for those unable to rise and continue;
they are the only souls with a right to it.
It is an end where breath and strength and will
have vanished, leaving no way to persevere.
To sink into the abyss that is despair
is to suffer an existence far worse than death;
therefore, cling to its enemy, our ally—hope.
For life goes on,
and we must not live in despair.
We must not.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“The captain put his fingers to his temples as if he had a headache. “So, let me get this straight. Edgar, an immortal, who I assume is as unscrupulous as his sisters, tried to take that bracelet from you…”

“He did take it,” she corrected.

“I thought you said Zmey kept him from doing so.”

“No. Edgar did snatch it from me at first, but Zmey made him give it back. I guess because King Wennergren gifted it to me. That means no one else is allowed to have it—that is, unless I give it away.”

“So it’s good that you had Zmey there to help.”

“Well….not exactly,” she hemmed again.

“Not exactly, again?” Derian’s face tightened with frustration. He pressed harder on his temples.

“Zmey protects the bracelet because he has to, but he doesn’t care much for me.” She hesitated before uttering the next sentence. “He actually tried to kill me.”

“What? What! Why? Eena!

“It’s okay, really, I’m fine! Naga protects me from those other dragons.”

“Other dragons? For criminy’s sake, how many more are there?!”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“That was the coolest thing ever.” Eena smiled at the fact that she’d been lucky enough to touch the wings of a real crioness.

“That was highly unusual. I can’t believe they came right up to us—to you.”

“They were hungry, I’m sure.”

“Still, crioness are cautious. They always avoid people. To let you touch him like it did…..”

She grinned with pure satisfaction. “Wild huh? Derian’s not going to believe me when I tell him.” Eena cocked her head when Ian laughed out loud. “What?” she asked, a note of offense in her voice.

“Of course Derian will believe you. When does anything ever happen to you that isn’t unreal?”

Knowing he was right, she shoved him off the log anyway.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“The watchful Mishmorat commented while waiting, contemplating Eena’s bare back. “Your people are so plain and pale.”

“Oh?” Eena kinked her neck to look at Niki, zeroing in on her long spotted arms. Her bronze skin was arguably more striking—speckled in beautiful patterns.

“I’m sorry,” the Mishmorat quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve never seen such bare skin before. There’s nothing to look at.”

Eena quickly pulled the new t-shirt down over her back. She chuckled at Niki’s comment. “I’ll admit your people are very attractive. But I’m okay with my ‘plainness.’” She glanced over her pale legs before pulling on a clean pair of pants.

“You’re kinda like a clear, cloudless sky,” Niki said, cocking her head wonderingly.

“And you’re like a…..a sky dotted with shapely clouds.”

“Only dark clouds.”

“Storm clouds.”

“Yeah,” Niki grinned devilishly, “That’s me—a sky full of storm clouds.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Hey, guard!” Ian hollered out loud. “Do you think we could get a bathroom break?”

The guard seemed to snicker as he pointed to the grass outside the cell. Eena smirked at how dead-on her thoughts had been after all.

“Come on,” Ian complained. “She can’t do that, she’s a girl.”

The soldier smiled wryly, a shrug communicating his indifference.

Eena laughed in her mind.

(I don’t know what you think’s so funny. You’re the one who’s gotta pee.)

Oddly enough, that fact just made her laugh even more.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Ian was a good man—honest, trustworthy, loyal, and of honorable character. His desire to keep his promise to Angelle and to be a respectable servant of Harrowbeth would always take president over any personal feelings, no matter how intense or gratifying they might be. He would never betray Harrowbeth. He would never cheat Derian or Angelle. He would never deceive his queen, even if in so doing he would find a love and happiness they both longed to share. His commitment to what he saw as right meant more.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“You know the story.” The Nalnom rotated his hand in the air as if she should recall it.

“I don’t. I’ve never heard the story.”

Joshlon summarized it for her. “Prometheus was turned into a dragon by his angry lover, Naradite. She refused to turn him back into his manly form. He became the first fire-breathing dragon—Naga the Terrible.”

Eena dropped her lower jaw. “What?”

“Naradite turned Prometheus into a dragon,” Joshlon repeated. “Naga.”

“And Prometheus is Edgar’s father?” She was sure the surrounding stares were the result of her virtually shouting out the question.

Joshlon answered with some hesitance in his voice. “I don’t know who Edgar is, but Edgarmetheus was supposedly the son of Prometheus, the illegitimate child of him and his lover, Naradite.”

“Oh. My. Gosh!” Eena exclaimed. “Naga is Edgar’s father!”

Joshlon’s lip curled. He didn’t look like he was following her emotional outburst. “Sha Eena, are you trying to tell me that this is all for real? And Naga is the undefeatable enemy you’re fighting?”

Her hazel eyes focused on him instantly. “Oh, no, no, not Naga! Out of all the immortals, he’s the nice one!”

Joshlon looked confused. “Naga the Terrible is the nice one?”

“Yes,” Eena nodded assuredly. “Edgar is the…” She halted mid-sentence. Joshlon had stopped moving. In fact, all the surrounding Nalnoms were frozen in place, skeptical expressions stuck on their faces. Her eyes fell closed when she heard the disgruntled voice behind her.

“I’m the what?” he grumbled lowly. “I’d really love to hear the end of that sentence, Amora.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Stop tormenting Derian.”

“Me?” Edgar gaped at her with a clearly fake look of innocence.

“Yes, you.”

“And what about you? When will you stop tormenting him?” Edgar moved past the young queen to approach the unmoving captain. He circled the man as though he were checking out a statue on display

“I’m not tormenting him; why would you say that?”

“You have the poor guy believing you actually intend to marry him.” Edgar stopped to fix the captain’s collar, raising it up high and stiff around his neck.

“I do intend to marry him.” Eena followed her immortal watchdog and folded down the captain’s collar, repositioning it as it had been.

“Oh please,” Edgar groaned. “You’ve had two opportunities to do so, and on both occasions you turned him down.” Edgar elevated the captain’s elbow—adjusting him like a mannequin—leaving it in an awkward position. “The council expressed a desire for you to marry, and you nearly hyperventilated over the mere suggestion. And just recently, due to his own paranoia, Derian all but begged you to marry him. Your refusal couldn’t have been more swift or more adamant.”

Eena returned the captain’s elbow to his side as she retorted, “I’m only seventeen, Edgar! I have no desire to marry anyone right now. But when I am ready, Derian will be my husband.”

Edgar took hold of the captain’s outreaching arm and shoved it forcefully down. “He will not.”

“He will so!” Eena raised the arm back to where it had been and warned her rival, “Don’t touch him again, Edgarmetheus!”

“Fine, fine,” the immortal ceded. Then with a smug grin he added, “If this had been Ian, you would never have let me touch him in the first place.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Ravelly pointed to the illustration as he told his friend that he used to read the same story nightly to his son, Wahlister. “Imorih’s Journey—quite the moralistic quest.”

Unan nodded in agreement. “I read it to Ian and Eena when they were children.” Then he held up the opened page with the picture of Imorih and the tiny, shouldered bug. He asked curiously, “Why do you say this is your favorite part, Master Ravelly?” The question caught Eena’s interest. Her ears tuned in to their conversation, but her eyes continued to scan the lively crowd below.

The old Grott went on to explain. “That is the part where Imorih realizes the whispered voice she has been listening to, the advice she has been heeding, doesn’t belong to her conscience as she first supposed. It shocks her to learn that for the more part of her journey she has been following the promptings of a negligible, albeit well-intentioned, creature. That’s when two things happen in her life. First, she comprehends how cunning and manipulative the power of suggestion can be. Secondly, she learns to recognize the difference between her own voice—her own desires—and someone else’s.”

Unan hummed a sound of accordance. “That’s right. Things change quite drastically after that discovery, don’t they?”

“Yes, yes, they most certainly do. For the best, I recall.”

“Because she becomes master of her own destiny after that.”

“As we all should be.”

Unan nodded, examining the illustration once again. “Yes, as we all should be.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

Richelle E. Goodrich
“But you will die, Amora.”

“I know.” She couldn’t help but smile at his bemusement. “It’s a fact I’ve always known, just like my ancestors before me. Don’t you see? That’s what makes us who we are. That’s what makes life valuable, Pallador, knowing that each and every day we live is a gift. Therein lies mortality’s great value. We cherish it because of its temporality. It is precious because it is fleeting.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“She imagined him leaning against the shuttle, entertaining thoughts of scolding her for dressing like a ragged commoner. Never mind that her present outfit was light years ahead in comfort.

(Actually, he’s wishing he had been less critical of you earlier. He feels bad that you won’t acknowledge his presence, and he blames himself.)

(Quit it, Ian. I’m not going to feel sorry for him.)

She caught her protector’s shrewd grin, highlighted by the fire’s glow. (You already do, Queenie.)

(This talent of yours is really annoying.)

He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “That’s not what you thought earlier when you wanted to get ahold of Efren.”

“One tiny rosebud in a handful of thorns,” she retorted.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave

Richelle E. Goodrich
“They went back to scooping up breakfast, licking the mess off their fingers. Soon the pile of berry mush was gone and their tongues were dyed a nice midnight blue. Ian seemed in a good mood, sticking his tongue out playfully at his best friend. Eena did likewise, right back at him. She was happy he was smiling, even if his teeth were purple.

(You’re too much fun, Eena,) Ian announced in her mind. (I’m really glad we’re friends.)

(Me too,) she agreed. (Best friends.)

Ian leaned back on his hands and watched the waves roll in from far off. The swells were building into large, flat-crested waves.
(Angelle never thought like you do. You’re creative and kinda crazy. Her thoughts were always more simple and, well…..normal.)

(Yeah, well, deadly dragons and evil witches tend to suck all the normal right out of you,) she grumbled.

(I suppose.)”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“Tell me you didn’t,” she groaned, knowing it would not be the truth. “Please tell me you didn’t take advantage of these poor people.”

“I didn’t,” he chirped.


With an irritated sigh he tried to convince her. “Amora, you’re not seeing things from an immortal perspective. The people who built this temple…”

“Temple?” she cried, cutting him off. “You forced these people to build you a temple? Why? Because all of a sudden you’re God now?”

Perturbed by her interruption, he raised a warning finger. “No, no, Amora, not God. But from their viewpoint I may seem a bit…..god-like.”

She rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

“If you would let me finish,” he went on, “these particular individuals had no part in the construction of that monument; it was their ancestors who erected it. And I must say, they did a fine job. My likeness has weathered the centuries quite well.”

“You’re despicable.”

He frowned at the insult. “Nobody was forced to build us a temple, Amora. They chose to do so.”

“You were that impressive to them, huh?”

“Apparently.” His eyes twinkled at the memory. He took a few steps toward the distant city, pulling Eena along. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”

“No way.” She planted her feet, refusing. Surprisingly it put a stop to him.

“And why not?”

“Because your sudden appearance will upset them! No doubt you’ll want to show off with some shockingly grand entrance. I’m not going to take part in a game of deceit.”

“I’m not deceiving anyone,” Edgar disputed. “I can’t help it if they happen to think I’m perfectly magnificent.”

His pompous view of himself earned a nasty look as well as a lecture. “I can’t believe you’re okay with selling people lies that affect the way they live and think! You’re not even close to being a god, Edgar, and yet you allow them to accept you as some sort of deity because of your unusual abilities. For centuries now you’ve abandoned this world and a population who probably looked to you and your lousy sisters for help. It’s all a big, disgusting sham!”

Edgar pouted like a child. “Fine—spoil all my fun. We’ll go do something else. Something that doesn’t include your poor, fragile, stupid mortals.”

“They’re not stupid.”

“They think I’m a god,” he snapped.

That was a pretty good argument.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

Richelle E. Goodrich
“I hate you, Edgar. I hate you with all my heart.”
Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Curse of Wanyaka Cave