Thornhedge Quotes

“She was theirs; they were hers. The love of monsters was uncomplicated.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Learn what you can. Use what you learn. You have not failed yet.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It never occurred to her to doubt her welcome. Such was the gift of a child raised with love.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It was really very sweet, and so if someone asked me about Thornhedge, I would probably say that it is a sweet book, and then presumably someone would point out that the heroine is raised by child-eating fish monsters and the villain is torturing people and animating the dead, and I would be left flailing my hands around and saying, “But it’s sweet! Really!”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“No. I have many mothers. If I am hideous, then we are hideous together. And that made it easier, because in her heart of hearts, she could not believe that her mothers were anything but beautiful.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Love wasn’t enough and trying wasn’t enough and nothing we did changed anything! It should have mattered. All that love and all that trying should have changed … something…”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“the first lesson that Toadling learned, in that strange place, was loneliness.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Surrounded by child-eating swamp spirits, Toadling felt intensely loved.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Toads are capable of sarcasm, but their blood runs too cold for hysteria.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“You were in pain as well,” he said, “and bones heal faster than spirits, I think. But I’ve felt a great deal better than I do now—I won’t deny it.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“She was neither beautiful nor made of malice, as many of the Fair Folk are said to be. Mostly she was fretful and often tired.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“The love of monsters was uncomplicated.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Thorns die from the inside out, like priests.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I think . . . you are too human.” She spread her hands helplessly. “And you are not,” said Halim. Not with censure. Merely a statement. “Not entirely,” she said. “Not anymore.” There did not seem to be any point in lying. “I was born human,” she said, “but things happened.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I have come because of a story,” he said. “You were right that everyone who might have told it is dead. I read it in a book. Several books.” Toadling felt her stomach drop. Books. Books were terribly expensive.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“There’s moly and salt and rowan and rue and candles, and a knife that my mother’s imam said duas over and also I had it blessed by the Benedictine monk who ran the library, so between the two of them, it ought to be quite holy by now.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Two hundred years. It was immense—unthinkable—and ultimately meant nothing at all. Two years or two hundred or two thousand. The magic endures”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It should have mattered. All that love and all that trying should have changed … something…”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It was in Toadling’s nature to try to please.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Eventually she ran out of tears. There were centuries’ worth still locked up inside her, but her body could only shed so many at a time. She was aware that her eyes were ringed with black and looked as if she had been beaten, but there was nothing to be done about that.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m sobbing all over you when I should be mixing up a draft for your pain.”
“You were in pain, as well,” he said, “and bones heal faster than spirits, I think. But I’ve felt a great deal better than I do now—I won’t deny it.” And then he kissed her forehead.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“The love of monsters was uncomplicated”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I brought things to break curses,” he said. “I didn’t know who cursed you, or how, so I brought as many as I could find.” He gestured toward the mule. “There’s moly and salt and rowan and rue and candles, and a knife that my mother’s imam said duas over and also I had it blessed by the Benedictine monk who ran the library, so between the two of them, it ought to be quite holy by now. I couldn’t find a rabbi. Well, I did, but he wanted to come alone because he’d never met a fairy, and I thought you wouldn’t like that.”
Toadling began to laugh because if she didn’t, she would cry immediately. “I told you, I wasn’t cursed!”
Cursed by fortune. Cursed by circumstance. Cursed to be whatever I am…
Halim seemed unbothered by this. “We’ll work something out.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“Greenteeth did not slap one another—not out of any virtue, but because a slap was such a useless thing underwater. When greenteeth brawled, it was with teeth and strangling fingers, spines and claws.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I don’t know why you’re doing this!”
“Well.” Halim busied himself putting away the salt and the herbs. “There’s the mystery, of course. But also…”
“Also?”
“I would like to save you.” He looked slightly embarrassed by the admission. “I have never been of much use to anyone, you see.”
“I’m not exactly a fair maiden to be saved by a questing knight,” she said. “It’s not as if I’m beautiful.”
“No,” said Halim. “I know I should say you are, because that would be chivalrous. But I’m not handsome, either, and I’m not rich, and men don’t feel the slightest urge to follow me into battle, and I already told you about the tourneys , so I’ve failed on most counts as a knight. It would be nice to do something and not fail at it. And you’re…um.” He shrugged. “Interesting. And sad.”
Toadling had been sad for a long time, but she was not used to being interesting. She had been nearly invisible for so long in her father’s house that it surprised her.
“Interesting,” she said. “Huh.”
“And you look a bit like my friend Faizan used to, when he’d done something wrong and was waiting for his mother to find out,” said Halim. “His mother was much fiercer than mine. But he always said the dread was the worst.”
The words slipped under her ribs like the blessed knife had not. Toadling’s breath came out in a short, pained huff.
He was not wrong. She had lived in dread for two hundred years.
He was going to climb the tower, and she could think of no way to stop him.
And inside, some tiny mad voice was saying, Perhaps it will be alright.
“Tomorrow,” she said shortly. “Bring the knife.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I have a horror that I will fall,” he told her conversationally, using the axe handle to lever a twisted trunk aside. “And one of these stubs that I’ve left will catch me in the thigh, right where the big artery is, and I will bleed out before I can finish cursing. And even then I will probably apologize for having cursed. My last words will be I’m sorry.
Toadling croaked a laugh. It was funny and it hurt, because she was nearly certain that her last words would also be I’m sorry, or perhaps just stammering as she tried to get an apology out.
“Ah, you are a toad again.” He swung the axe, then grunted as the blade bound into the dead wood and he had to wiggle it loose. “It’s for the best, I suppose. Toads probably don’t trip and fall and impale themselves on broken branches. I am feeling guilty enough for having bothered you. If you tripped on a branch, I would likely expire from guilt. The Brother Librarian said that I was almost guilt-ridden enough to join a monastery, but our faith does not have an equivalent. And if I expired from guilt, my mother would be very upset, and I would have to feel guilty about that, too. I’m babbling now, aren’t I?”
“Somewhat,” said Toadling, turning back into a human in a little space in the thorns.
“I thought so. I do that when I don’t know what to say. I talk to fill spaces. I’m a wretched liar. Although a good liar would probably say that, wouldn’t they?”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“When Toadling heard the sound of hooves, she closed her eyes briefly and thought, Not another one!
She would not approach this one. She would not. She could not be trusted to speak to humans. Halim had gone away, and if the gods looked kindly on one small toad, he would not come back. She did not think she could handle another one.
The hoofbeats separated out into two beasts, one large, one small. Toadling hopped to the edge of the brambles and looked out.
Apparently, the gods had other people to look after. It was Halim, and he had brought another mule with him.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“It’s a dangerous thing, curiosity.” He smiled ruefully. “I always thought that I thought that i was doing well. So few knights own anything more than their horse and their armor, so they go and fight in tourneys for purses or go off to be mercenaries for coin, and then half the time they gamble it away after. And I hate gambling, and I don’t really want to beat other men bloody for a purse, particularly when they’re friends of mine. But it turns out that if you dangle a mystery in front of me… Well, here I am.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“In the morning, as good as his word, Halim brought out his implements for breaking curses.
“Tell me at once if this hurts,” he said anxiously.
Toadling shook her head, bemused at him for his eagerness, and at herself for not running away. “All right,” she said. “If this will make you happy.”
It could not be said that it went well, but neither did it go badly. She sat patiently while he sprinkled holy water on her, and lit candles in a circle, and recited verses from the Quran, none of which did anything.
“Oh dear,” said Halim. “I suppose I should try the Christian prayer to be thorough, but I suspect that my mother wouldn’t appreciate it. And I don’t know if that’s blasphemy or not, and it’s probably bad form to blaspheme while you’re breaking a curse.”
“I’ll do it,” said Toadling, and launched into the Lord’s Prayer. “Our Father, who art in heaven…”
The words twisted around in her throat, as her fairy gift tried to recast them in modern tongue. She had learned the prayer two hundred years ago to please the priest, and the words on her heart were different than the ones on her tongue.
Halim waited politely, but nothing happened.
“Next?” said Toadling.
“I’m supposed to hurl this mixture of moly and salt in your face,” he said doubtfully. “But that seems quite hostile.”
“Do it.” She closed her eyes. She felt an absurd smile on her face and couldn’t quite stop it.
He still could not bring himself to hurl the mixture. She felt salt and herbs patter gently on her cheek. It did exactly nothing.
“Last one,” said Halim. “Um. I’m supposed to nick you with the blessed knife.”
She held out her hand.
He looked from the knife to her, back to the knife. She was surprised to see he’d gone a little green.
“Aren’t you a knight?” she asked. “Haven’t you stabbed people before?”
“Very few,” he said. “And they were all trying to stab me first.”
She laughed and took the knife from him.
It was not hard. Master Gourami’s spells had often involved a drop of blood to bind them. She prodded the ball of her thumb with the tip and felt the skin part.
Cold steel was never kind to fairies, but those born human were safe enough. Her blood was darker and thinner than Halim’s would be, and she suspected that the cut would itch for a few days, but that was all.
She flipped the knife around and offered him the hilt.
“Is the curse broken?” he asked.
“There really isn’t one,” she said. “not on me.”
He sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to climb the tower, then.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“I have never been of much use to anyone, you see.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge

“My mother was devout enough for the whole family, so we left her to it.”
― T. Kingfisher, Thornhedge