“She was dry. She was lying on something soft. She was wrapped in quilts. There was a star of light drifting above her, and a smell like a herb garden. Taggle was a long warmth stretched out at one side,… — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
“It's true that when you read YA you rarely have to read about middle-aged men having affairs. Personally I consider that a plus.” — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
“Behjet eased the horse forward again. "The harvest is failing. There will be no crop at all if this rain doesn't stop - not… — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
“Plain Kate greased her boots and bandaged her feet, and soon she would walk like a Roamer born. She helped Drina with the water and the wood, and in the long, wet evenings she carved objarka burji. Plain Kate carved fast and learned slowly. She was bewildered most of the time, but Daj called her mira again, and when she… — Erin Bow Copy Share
“And suddenly, in the place of the woman-shape made of shadow, there was something else. Something huge, something ugly. Linay flung up both hands. The thing screamed like a hawk and opened to wings: one white as a death cap, one clotted in shadow. The wings came together and the whole pond shuddered. Something hit Kate's ear and shoulder and… — Erin Bow Copy Share
“Well. I am not afraid. But to protect you, Katerina, I will be discreet." Plain Kate considered a cat's idea of discretion, and was… — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
“Often she dreamt she had two wings, and one was frightened, and one was happy.” — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
“Taggle, meanwhile, made himself popular, killing rats and bringing a rabbit into camp every evening, preening in the praise - silently, thank god, though… — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
“Taggle was absorbed in the meat pie. ‘It’s covered in BREAD,’ he huffed. ‘What fool has covered MEAT with BREAD?” — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
“ Foggy little oxbows Forest pools where no one goes Lost links of the river dreaming dreams ” — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
“ Plain Kate, Kate the Carver No one's friend and no one's daughter Little Kate might meet her fate Whittling sticks till it's too late ” — Erin Bow Copy Share Image
