The Prophecy Quotes

“Kyle seemed flustered. “It can never work between us, Catty.”
“Those weren’t exactly the words I had expected to hear you say,” she said, slipping her arms around him.
“Nefandus is my home,” he explained. “So if I try to kiss someone who isn’t from that realm, I’ll absorb her power. It’s a curse the Atrox put on the servi, so that even if we escape we can never find love, because we’ll slowly kill anyone we care to.”
Catty finally understood his hesitation. She brazenly drew him closer. “I’m not scared,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his. “I’ve finally accepted my dark side, the part of me I inherited from my father, so I guess I’m half like you now, maybe more.”
He smiled, then kissed her lightly, testing her theory. When nothing happened, he kissed her again, his lips soft and sweet on hers.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy

“Chris was fading, his image flickering in the breeze, a suggestion of the person he had been centuries back seeming to eclipse the person he had become.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
But he didn’t seem angry: he stared at her as if seeing her for the first time, his eyes full of gratitude. “You’re the embodiment of the Scroll now, Catty,” he said reverentially. “My job is complete. No heir before you has had the courage to do what you did. The Prophecy has been fulfilled.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy

“Suddenly, she sensed that the darkness from her father and the Scroll were only unexplored strengths that she had to learn to integrate into her own. She no longer feared the dark.
As the Scroll’s energy continued to throb inside her, she sensed her father’s fear and knew that he understood her new, terrifying role of annihilating evil. She symbolized the absolute force of the divine, her power uncompromising and direct. She was the destroyer.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy

“She sighed, disconsolate, feeling utterly abandoned, but then she remembered the waitress from the Summer Moon Tea Room.
She yanked the Scroll back from her father and pulled the fortune from her pocket.
She read it out loud, “The moonlight is reflected from the beauty within you.”
Hope surged through her, and she knew what she had to do. Her powers might not work here, but nothing could stop the strength of the moon; its luminescence glowed inside her and through her.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy

“This will soothe you," the waitress said. She tipped the kettle, and steam rose from the spout, curling around Catty with the delicate fragrance of jasmine tea.
"Thank you," Catty said, her voice breaking; the woman's kindness made her want to cry again.
"Animis non astutia," the woman whispered.
Catty's head shot up. "Did you just speak Latin?"
"Did I?" The woman set an array of food and sauces on the table.
Catty nodded, certain of what she had heard. "You said, 'By courage, not by cunning.'"
The waitress shrugged. "It sounds like good advice for anyone who wants to triumph over impossible odds."
Then she handed Catty a single fortune cookie on a silver plate with the changing shapes of the moon engraved on its border.
"Don't forget to read your fortune," she said and took her tray to a nearby table to clear the dirty dishes there.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy

“Vanessa was parked at the curb in her 1965 red Mustang convertible, her hair frosted with silver streaks. Catty slid into the front seat.
“Ready?” Vanessa asked. She wore a bell-sleeved sweater and matching purple mascara.
“Let me borrow your makeup.” Catty reached for Vanessa’s purse from the back and pulled out the makeup bag. “If we’re caught tonight, I want to look good for my mug shot.”
Vanessa laughed, her tense mood broken, and she pulled away from the curb as Catty swept electric-blue liner over her lids.
“I just burned a new CD.” Vanessa punched a button on her newly installed stereo, and guitar music roared into the night. Vanessa’s voice flowed from the speakers, a magical blend of rock and soul.
“That’s really good,” Catty said, complimenting her, and she spread red gloss over her lips. She turned to face Vanessa. “What do you think?”
“You look like a vamp and totally smoochable.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy

“How can anyone look so gorgeous?" Serena asked, bewilderment in her voice.
"If I dressed like that—" Vanessa said, referring to Tianna's B-girl style.
"You'd still be the glamour queen," Catty interrupted, but Tianna's unearthly beauty made Catty pause. Even dressed casually in Tommy jeans and big hoop earrings, she looked incredible.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy

“A glint of gold caught her eye. The Scroll lay before her. She admired the detailed artwork on the borders, in which exotic beasts and birds with long feathers hid in twisting branches.
She picked up the manuscript. The parchment pulsed beneath her touch as if she had awakened it. She dropped it and stepped back, rubbing her fingers on her jeans to rid herself of the unpleasant sensation that the parchment had recognized her. She didn't recall having had such a feeling before. Perhaps Gerard de Molaire, the sorcerer who had hidden a spell within the Scroll, had channeled some kind of sinister energy into it. But then another thought came to her. Chris had given her the manuscript before, and maybe he had controlled it then.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy

“1249 A.D.

The Keeper pulled the illuminated manuscript from its hiding place and spread it on the stone hearth. The golden border caught the fire's light, and its reflection looked like an eye flashing open. At once the illusion vanished, but something else caught the Keeper's attention, and the shock of it took his breath away. Within the enlarged first letter, the miniature of the goddess unlocking the jaws of hell had changed; her beauty was gone, replaced by the cruel gaze of a Follower. Was this another change the Scroll had wrought upon itself, or had someone tampered with its magic again?
The Keeper dipped his paintbrush in brown pigment and began drawing a tree on the parchment, curving its limbs over and around the calligraphy until the words were hidden in a maze of twisting branches. For centuries he had devoted himself to uncovering this forbidden knowledge, and now he had assumed the duty of protecting it. He wished he could follow the Path, but the Prophecy was clear; only the child of a fallen goddess and an evil spirit could follow the steps without fear of the Scroll's curse.
Many had died trying to use its magic, but that wasn't the reason the Keeper now kept it hidden, denying its existence. A dangerous transformation had taken place. The Scroll had somehow come to life, as if the words written on the parchment had infused it with an instinct for survival. He could feel it now, alert and suspicious beneath his fingers.
When it was no longer watching him, he dropped his brush, grabbed a reed pin, dipped it into the glutinous black ink, and wrote one final instruction on the last page. His deception awakened whatever lived within the manuscript. Intense light shot through him with deadly force, binding his existence to that of the Secret Scroll for all time.”
― Lynne Ewing, The Prophecy