A Shadow in the Ember Quotes

“It’s Mari. You remember her, right? She—” “Yes, I remember your childhood friend who you are still friends with and who I just saw earlier today at the Temple,” I interrupted, wondering if Ezra had lied and she had injured her head. “What happened to her?” “Another child needed our help. It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous. The girl had been living on the streets by the Three Stones—you know the place?” “Yes.” My gaze searched hers. The pub was in Lower Town. “What happened there?” “It’s all very confusing. We were supposed to retrieve her, and with everyone celebrating the Rite, tonight was our best chance. That was all.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“It couldn’t have been him this entire time. “Who…who are you?” Tavius rasped. Slowly, his head turned to where my stepbrother stood. “I am known as the Asher,” he said, and I shuddered. Is it short for something? I’d asked when he told me his name. It is short for many things. “The One who is Blessed. I am the Guardian of Souls and the Primal God of Common Men and Endings.” His voice traveled through the Great Hall, and absolute silence answered. I could barely force air through my lungs. “I am Nyktos, ruler of the Shadowlands, the Primal of Death.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Liessa. Something beautiful and powerful…”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“There is the Abyss, which is what everyone thinks of when they picture the Shadowlands—fiery pits and endless torment,” he said, staring at the strand of my hair. “But there is also the Vale, and that is paradise for those worthy.” “What is the Vale like?” His gaze lifted to mine, searching. A moment passed. “That, I cannot tell you.” “Oh.” Disappointed, I lowered my gaze to the long fingers that held my hand. “What awaits in the Vale cannot be shared with anyone, mortal or god. Not even Primals can enter the Vale,” he added. “But the rest of the Shadowlands is like an entryway—a village before the city. It is beautiful in its own way, but it was once one of the most magnificent regions in all of Iliseeum.” Once was? “What happened to it?” “Death,” he stated flatly. A chill swept over me. “What is the rest of Iliseeum like?” “The skies are a color of blue you would never see in this realm, the waters clear, and the grass lush and vibrant,” he told me. “Except for when it’s night, the hours of darkness are brief in Dalos.” My breath caught. Dalos. The City of the Gods, where the Primal of Life—Kolis—and his Court resided.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“What is written in your histories about the gods, Primals, and Iliseeum is not always accurate. Some Primals’ age would shock you.” “Because they’re so old?” “Because they’re so young in comparison,” he corrected. “The Primals you know of now didn’t always hold those positions of power.” “They didn’t?” I whispered. Ash shook his head. “Some gods have even walked both realms far longer than the Primals.” If I weren’t already lying down, I would’ve fallen over. What he said sounded unbelievable. And he was right. I had no idea how old the Primal of Death was. He, like Kolis, the Primal of Life, had never been depicted in paintings. “I have so many questions,” I admitted. “I can only imagine.” His gaze flickered over my face. “But I’m sure the questions you have cannot be answered now.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“I don’t even know if I want to know this, but do the Priests in the Temples have snakes in them?” His lips twitched as if he were fighting a grin. “I have to agree with you probably not wanting to know the answer to that.” “Oh, gods.” I groaned, shuddering. “You said there are two types of Gyrms?” “Those who offered eternal servitude in return are typically known as Hunters and Seekers. Their purpose is usually to locate and retrieve things. There are other classes of Gyrms, dozens really, but those are the main ones.” Ash’s fingers moved over my collarbone in a slow, idle circle, startling me. “Then there are those who enter servitude as a way to atone for their sins in lieu of being sentenced to the Abyss.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Why the stitched mouths? The eyes?” “Supposedly, it’s done so they are loyal to only the god or Primal they are in service to.” “Are the Priests Gyrms, then?” I asked. If they were no longer truly alive, it explained how they survived with their mouths sewn closed. It also explained their innate creepiness. He nodded. “The Primals stitch the Priests’ lips shut?” The skin around his mouth tightened. “What happens to them when they die was established a very, very long time ago. It has become an expected act.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Their skin held the waxy pallor of death, scalps bare of hair, eyes endless black pits, and mouths…they were all wrong. Their mouths were stretched too far across their cheeks as if someone had carved out a wider smile for them. And that mouth appeared sewn shut like the Shadow Priests. I unsheathed the blade. “What are they?” I whispered, quickly counting six of them. “Definitely not wayward spirits.” Slowly, I looked over at him. “No, really?” One side of his lips curved up. “They’re known as Gyrms,” he answered. “This type? They’re called Hunters.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“What you can do is a gift, a wonderful one that is a part of who you are,” he’d said, kneeling so we were at eye level. “But it could become dangerous for you if others were to learn that you could possibly bring back their loved ones. It could anger the gods and Primals, for you to decide who should return to life and who should not. It is a gift given by the King of Gods, one that should be held close to your heart and only ever used when you’re ready to become who you were destined to be. Until then, you are not a Primal. Play as one, and the Primals might think you are.” Sir Holland had been the only one to ever refer to it as a gift.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“I hadn’t known when I entered the barn with Ezra that Tavius had followed us. When he saw what I’d done, he’d run straight for the Queen, who had been afraid that using such a gift would anger the Primal of Death. Maybe she was right. Perhaps that was why the Primal of Death had decided that he no longer needed a Consort. After all, I carried the ability to steal souls away from him.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“No one knew how I’d gained such a gift or why I’d been marked for death before I was even born. It made no sense that I would carry an ability that linked me to the Primal of Life—to Kolis. Had he somehow learned of the deal and imparted me with the gift? Was that what Odetta had meant when she claimed the Arae had said that I was touched by both life and death? He was the King of Gods, after all. I imagined there was very little he didn’t know.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Heart racing, I looked down at my hands. The blood that smeared my palm was dark against my skin. I wiped away what I could in the cool grass beside me. I’d never used my gift on an animal I hadn’t seen pass, and I had never used it on a mortal, even though I’d come close with Odetta. If she hadn’t been alive… I would’ve broken my rule.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“I simply wished for the wolf to live. That was what I’d done with Butters as I held the cat in my arms. It’s what I’d done those few times before. Whatever wound or injury that had taken them simply vanished. It all seemed unbelievable, but that was my gift. It allowed me to sense that a death had just occurred—like it had done with Andreia. It also brought the dead back to life, but not like what had been done to the seamstress. Thank the Primals and gods for that.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“They were all as unworthy as I was. Abusers. Murderers. Rapists. Death would’ve found them eventually. Five had died by my hand on the orders of my mother, and they didn’t include the Vodina Isles Lords. Fourteen. I had ended fourteen lives.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“I don’t know.” He sheathed his sword. “But I don’t think Madis simply killed her. He did…something. What, I have no idea.” A muscle ticked along his jaw. “I would not repeat what you’ve seen here.” I nodded. As if anyone would believe me if I did.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Those who die like the Kazins…do their souls make it to the Shadowlands?” The god was quiet for a long moment. “No. They…they simply cease to exist.” “Oh, my gods.” I pressed my hand to my mouth. His eyes lifted to mine. “It is a cruel fate, even one greater than being sentenced to the Abyss. There, at least you are something.” “I…I can’t even process what it would be like to simply stop being.” I shuddered, hoping he didn’t notice. “That is…” “Something only the vilest should face,” he finished for me.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Yet again, you entered a home without taking a moment to see if you were truly alone,” the god said, and my gaze flew to his. The eather swirled even more wildly in his eyes. “That was incredibly reckless. Don’t ever do that again.” My lips parted on a harsh exhale. “I…I just stabbed you in the chest, and that is what you have to say?” “No. I was getting to that.” Tilting his head to the side, dark hair slid across his cheek. “You stabbed me.” “I did.” I took another step back, throat now too dry to swallow. “In the chest,” he tacked on. The front of his tunic was torn, but there was no stain of blood. Nothing. If it weren’t for the smear on the blade, I wouldn’t have believed I had actually done it. “Almost in my heart.” A tremble ran through my hands. “Well, it seems it had very little impact on you.” Which was terrifying on a whole other level. “It stung,” he growled, head straightening. “Deeply.” “Sorry?” His chin lowered. “You are not sorry.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“In the still, rose-scented chamber, I looked up at the painting of King Lamont Mierel and took the time to really soak in his image, knowing my mother would be at brunch at this time. It was safe to look upon him now. My father. There was a tightness in my chest, a pressure that I thought could be grief, but I wasn’t sure how I could mourn someone I’d never met. He’d died shortly after my birth, having leapt from Wayfair’s east tower. No one had ever said why. No one ever spoke of it. But I often wondered if my birth—the reminder of what his forefather had done—had driven him to”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“I stared straight ahead, motionless in the shadows as I thought of my mother—my family. They’d probably already moved to the banquet hall, where they would share food and conversation, pretending as if the Lord of the Vodina Isles hadn’t just returned their Advisor to them minus his body. Pretending that this wasn’t another sign that the kingdom was on the brink of failure. I had never, not once, experienced supper with them. Not even before I’d failed.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“You,” he said, his voice smoke and shadow and full of everything that awaited after someone took their very last breath. “I have no need of a Consort.” My entire body jerked, and I whispered, “What?” The Primal pulled back, the shadows retracting around him. He shook his head. What did he mean? I stepped forward. “What—?” I said again. The wind whipped from behind me this time, pitching the chamber into darkness as the candles whooshed out. The rumbling was weaker than before, but I didn’t dare move, having no idea where he was. I wasn’t sure where the edge of the dais even was. The earthy scent disappeared, and the flames slowly returned to the candles, sparking weakly to life… He no longer stood before me.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Even if he’d watched me grow over the years, or if spies had been sent to Lasania, my identity, my heritage and bloodline, had been kept hidden. No one even knew there was a Princess of Mierel blood. Everything I did had been carried out in highly planned secrecy—from training with Sir Holland to the time spent with the Mistresses of the Jade. There was no way he could know that in the two hundred years it had taken for me to be born, the knowledge of how to kill a Primal had been obtained. Love. They had one fatal weakness that made them vulnerable enough to be killed, and that was love. Make him fall in love, become his weakness, and end him. That was my destiny.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“When King Roderick had grown desperate enough to do anything to salvage his lands ruined by war and save those who were starving after already suffering so much loss, I imagined he’d expected a lesser god to answer his summons—which was far more common for those bold enough to do such a thing. But what had answered the Golden King was a Primal. And when he’d granted King Roderick’s request, this was the price the Primal of Death had requested: the firstborn daughter of the Mierel bloodline as his Consort.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“where I could make out the shadowy forms of my mother and Tavius in the candlelight. A third figure stood beside them. King Ernald. My stepsister, Princess Ezmeria—Ezra—stood beside her father and brother, and I didn’t need to see her expression to know that she hated every aspect of this deal. Sir Holland wasn’t here. I would’ve liked to have said goodbye to him, even though I didn’t expect him to be here. His presence would raise too many questions among the Shadow Priests. Would reveal too much. That I wasn’t the beacon of Royal purity, but rather the wolf dressed as the sacrificial lamb. I wouldn’t just fulfill the deal that King Roderick had struck. I would end it before it destroyed my kingdom.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Resting my hands on the arms of the throne, I scanned the pews below. Not a single soul from Lasania was in attendance. None even knew that their lives and their children’s lives all hinged on tonight and what I needed to do. If they ever discovered that Roderick Mierel—the one the histories of Lasania called the Golden King—hadn’t spent day and night in the fields with his people, digging and scraping away land ruined by war until they revealed clean, fertile soil… That he hadn’t sown the land alongside his subjects; his blood, sweat, and tears building the kingdom… If they learned that the songs and poems written about him had been based on a fable, what was left of the Mierel Dynasty would surely collapse.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“She reached back, curling her arm through mine. The unexpected contact caused me to flinch, and I was suddenly grateful for the veil. Like any of the Chosen, my flesh should not encounter another’s unless related to my preparations. It spoke volumes that Lady Kala had touched me.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“He moved again, prowling around me and tapping one finger against his chin. My skin crawled, but I remained still. “But then again, you’ve been trained to carry this through to the end, haven’t you? To become his weakness, make him fall in love, and then end him.” He stopped in front of me once more. “I know about the time spent under the tutelage of the Mistresses of the Jade. So, maybe you’re not nervous,” he continued. “Maybe you can’t wait to serve—” He lifted a hand toward me. I caught”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Little sister,” came the voice. “You’re as still as one of the statues of the gods in the garden.” Sister? My lip curled in barely contained disgust. He was no brother of mine, not by blood nor bond, even though he was the son of the man my mother had married soon after my father’s death. He didn’t carry a drop of the Mierel bloodline, but because the people of Lasania didn’t know of my birth, he had become the heir. Soon, he would be King, and I was sure the people of Lasania would face a different crisis even after I fulfilled the deal.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“Through the veil, I saw Queen Calliphe smile, or at least her lips went through the motions. I’d never seen her really smile at me, not like she did with my stepsiblings or her husband. But even though she had carried me for nine months and brought me into this world, I had never been hers. I had never been the people’s Princess. I’d always belonged to the Primal of Death.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“You may not be Chosen, but you were born into this realm, shrouded in the veil of the Primals. A Maiden as the Fates promised. And you shall leave this realm touched by life and death,” my old nursemaid Odetta had once said. But, once again, I looked like the Chosen—those third sons and daughters born in a shroud, destined to serve the Primal of Life in his Court. I spent my entire life hidden behind this veil, and even though I had been born in a shroud and treated like most Chosen in many ways, I was also the Maiden. What they were destined to become after Ascension was the highest honor that could be bestowed upon a mortal in any kingdom. Celebrations would be held throughout the lands in preparation for the night of their Rite, where they would Ascend and enter the realm of Iliseeum to serve the Primals and the gods. What I was destined for was the most closely guarded secret in all of Lasania. There were no celebrations and feasts. Tonight, on my seventeenth birthday, I would become the Primal of Death’s Consort. My”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember

“My mother’s dark brown eyes met mine briefly in the mirror, and then she walked around me, the crown of golden leaves upon her head shining in the candlelight. She studied me, searching for a stray hair out of place or where one didn’t belong, for a flaw or sign that I wasn’t the expertly crafted bride. The price that had been promised two hundred years before I was born.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, A Shadow in the Ember