Queenswood Quotes

“The beachfae could not have been more different from their sovereigns. They behaved as if her visit was good cause for a holiday, happily bringing her to a cove bathed in warm sun, shielded from both waves and wind by cliffs. Mermaids called out, passing fresh-caught fish and bright seaplants to selkies, who lighted a driftwood fire. Though no one hurried, the cooking went quickly, and white-fleshed fish and flame-crisped seaweed were shared about. Rhiannon felt how all looked on her as an honored guest, and served her first, yet she sat comfortably in the circle. Selkie children finished eating and hurried to play— shedding their skins to toddle in the sand and grasp shells in their pudgy hands, then wrapping into their skins again for a twist and turn into the water before flop-flopping back onto the beach.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“It would be as true to say the Three grew Faerie like a vine, using the hardwood of Earth as a support. The tree of Earth and vine of Faerie flourished together, drinking the sunshine of the Three, like two friends passing a cup of summer wine back and forth on an endless afternoon. In time the two worlds grew around and into each other, and in some places could hardly be told apart. These places became doors between the worlds. From time to time, animals found their way through the doors, and birds became particularly adept at this, crossing easily from side to side.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“The Earth they made of words: This new world they made of music. They worked more quickly this time, for creating Earth taught them many things, and they grew both bold and fanciful. Faerie's foundation they made neither rigid nor fiery at the center but fluid. The plants were green-growing things, but each also had its guardian spirit who watched over it and argued its case with all the other small advocates of the forest. Rivers and waterfalls had their fae as well, so the forests of Faerie hummed and buzzed with voices.
Now the Three threw caution to the winds, and they made the animals even more wondrous than those of Earth: unicorns and dragons, hippogriffs and winged cats. They made horses who hatched in the sea, and deer who flew.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“The Queenswood was the finest forest in the two worlds. In childhood he innocently thought all forests as rich as this one, and slowly discovered it had no equal. Rhiannon was discovering the woodland of his childhood. He was remembering it himself.
The forestfae showed themselves tentatively, then more joyfully as she welcomed them. Twin riverfae appeared, one the boisterous white of a waterfall, the other the deep green of a shadowed pool. A mother deer stepped delicately into the clearing, her spotted fawn following. A pair of foxes nudged their kits into the sun.
The forestfae were hurriedly clearing leaflitter from a table and bringing small gifts: berries, a dripping honeycomb, shelled walnuts. They urged her to sit in the chair with the tallest back, and a sigh went through the whole company when she accepted the seat.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“This place was hers. She grew aware of the many kinds of trees that made this Great Web, branches crowning overhead, roots speaking to each other beneath the soil. She knew a few names: oak, larch, rowan. She caught her breath at the great age of the elder trees. She closed her eyes, and her head bowed with concentration, for she sensed they wished to speak to her. Yes, these were the oldest trees, reaching to her with images rather than words. They marked the years with rings inside their trunks. Look, look, so many we have seen! Then, in her mind, she was plunging down with the flow of sap, into the earth, and her mind recoiled, but the trees wanted her to see their rich life down in the soil, their roots reaching out long pathways, finding what they needed in the silence and dark.
Rhiannon gasped, opened her eyes. The forest was speaking to her, telling her of its life. Not one tree, but the whole Queenswood. Many voices. She looked up, willing herself to see this forest again as a cathedral. Her eyes sought the autumn leaves that a moment ago appeared so like the stained glass above the altar at Rosewood.
All at once, they were falling toward her like rain, withering to brown as they touched the ground. She gasped again, looking down and seeing them break apart into powder about her feet. She looked up, expecting bare branches, but instead, green leaves thronged overhead.
This place was unnatural.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“A crown of seashells and coral graced her head, a reminder of her SeaForest family line, and pearls peeped from her dark hair. His mother was every inch the High Queen. And he was tasked with finding a human maiden to step into her shoes.
Her gown was blue, embroidered in green thread with starfish, shellfish, creatures of the shallows. On her sleeves, needlework otters peeped between kelp fronds. Selkies swam along the gown’s helm in their seal forms and climbed from the foam as long-legged women at her bodice, where white waves of sea silk bloomed.
One could all but hear the hoarse call of gulls.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“She greeted him quietly, then stroked the kelpie’s neck. “What is your horse’s name?” she asked.
“You are asking after my horse?” She was not looking at him. He put his hand near hers and said, “These light dapples, they look like stars, so I call him Aster.”
“I’ve never seen a horse this color. Almost blue.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“Bluebells rose misty from the ground. Angus reined to a stop, with a door between the worlds in front of them, a stone bridge that formed a half circle above a deep running stream. He would not cross over now, not until he held Anett firmly on the saddle before him.
On the stream's far side lay Faerie, and the trees were older and thicker, wise with lichens. An owl hovered on silent wings. Down in the water, he saw a flash of white legs, a swirl of long green hair, the water nixies that lived beneath the bridge.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“Today, I gird myself
with the strength of heaven
light of the sun
Brightness of the moon,
Brilliance of fire
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea
Firmness of earth,
Stability of rock
Today, I gird myself
With the strength of God to direct me…”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“A pair of white wolves dens here. They do not mind a visit now and again.”
They had to crouch for the low ceiling. Miri was clearly good friends with the wolves, who whined in welcome. The pups were little balls of fluff nestled to their parents’ warm bellies.
Miri lifted one to her lap. “They have not been out under the open sky yet. Imagine. This is all they know of the worlds.” She glanced at him. “My mother keeps an ice bear in the hall, but I prefer to visit the winter creatures in their own homes when they welcome it.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“And nothing was like a book, such a small, quiet-looking thing, yet so much inside. One opened a book as if opening a world.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“She knew that wolves and bears reigned in the forest, and under every rock lived trolls and goblins and elves, and she was suddenly afraid, for no one knew how many there were, but there were certainly many more of them than Christian people.

— Sigrid Undset”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“At last, the egg gave way with a sigh, and fluid gushed out, smelling at once of autumn woods and spring fields, and the salt breeze of the ocean that was impossibly far away. The blue-grey foal, like any newborn horse, was a heap of wet limbs.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood

“The kelpie egg was warm in the Crone's hand. She looked into its depths and saw manes flowing, tails flickering, the joy of running. These blue-grey kelpies were bred as mounts for the ruling caste of Faerie, the sidhe.”
― Kathleen Schwab, Queenswood