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The Spellshop

Book by Sarah Beth Durst · 24 quotes · Books, Cottagecore, Hippocampus

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The Spellshop Quotes

“It was the most pleasant few hours she'd had since they'd fled Alyssium. She hadn't realized how badly she'd missed this: sinking into the solace of words, letting the authors steer her toward answers or, at least, better questions. The books in her stack were written by scholars and sorcerers and, in the case of one heavily illustrated volume, a naturalist, and they each had a different perspective of how magic could be used to influence the natural world.”

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“It looked like a wave of green light, beginning with the roots and pulsing through the trunk until it split at the branches. It chased down every limb. Every branch it touched burst into life: leaves budded and then unfurled, and the most glorious scent of green and life and spring and summer all wrapped together filled Kiela's nose, mouth, and body. She felt as if she were breathing in the essence of the forest, alive and full of growth. Leaves layered over one another so fast that the sky disappeared and the sun vanished into a glow of green. Pressing itself against the trunk of the sycamore, the rabbit-size cloud bear wept tears as bright as diamonds. Its tears rolled down the bark, and where they touched the soil, delicate white flowers bloomed. She'd never seen flowers like it: they were clusters of petals that glowed with the soft, white light of the full moon.”

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“He held her a moment longer, allowing the merhorse to become accustomed to her. "How do I steer?" she asked. "You don't," he said. "She steers. You ride." He then released her. Instinctively, she leaned forward and grabbed onto Sian's mane as the merhorse lunged away from the rocks. Sea spray and wind spattered Kiela's face. The merhorse picked up speed, jumping through the waves like a dolphin. Kiela clung to her mane, feeling as if she were holding on to seaweed, slippery but soft. She let out a shriek as Sian leaped over the top of a large cresting wave, and then she laughed as they sailed down the other side. She'd never felt anything like this. It was terrifying. And wonderful. She felt as if her blood had become the wind, and her breath had become the sea spray. She tasted salt, and she tasted freedom. Both were glorious.”

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“While the elite used magic to build their palaces and fuel their lavish lives, ordinary people suffered. That was the crux of the argument for the revolution. The world and its resources belonged to everyone, they said--- which included everything kept locked up inside the Great Library. All that knowledge, the power to make lives better, was shelved away. Reserved for use by only the wealthy, when it should belong to everyone. And that's why I never really believed they'd hurt the library--- and why I don't understand why they did. They knew books were power.”

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“How about you tell me which plants are which, and we'll... organize them. So that they all have the chance to thrive. We can designate areas for different kinds of plants and transplant the rest outside the fence. Like at the library." She walked toward the east side of the garden. "Here's the Nonfiction section. Vegetables only here." "New Studies and Treaties," Caz said, designating an area at the front of the Nonfiction section. "Your seeds can go here. And in the back, Histories--- that's the old growth." "In the front of the cottage, Fiction. That'll be all the flowers." "What about the berries?" "Journals of Scientific Papers," she decided, because of the way the brambles both supported and strangled one another. "Along the far fence.”

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“She was pleasantly surprised at how much remained. Her parents had abandoned a heap of old Caltreyan clothes. Selecting one of the island dresses, Kiela shook it out. Dust plumed in the air. The skirt was a quilt of blue--- sky blue, sapphire blue, sea blue--- all stitched together with silvery thread and hemmed with silver ribbon, and the bodice was a soft white blouse. Not at all a city style, but it was perfect for a picnic in a garden or a stroll on a shore. With a few repairs, she could wear a lot of her mother's abandoned clothes, and she could use her father's for... She wasn't sure what, but they were nice to have. She'd find a use for them. If nothing else, she could chop the fabric up into cleaning rags. Or perhaps learn to quilt? There was a moth-eaten blanket in one closet, in addition to the old quilts on the daybed and her parents' bed. Each quilt had its own pattern--- one was comprised of colors of the sunset and sewn in strips like rays of light, while another was the brown and pale green of a spring garden with pieces cut like petals and sewn like abstract flowers. We left so many beautiful things behind. She'd had no idea. She'd been too little to help much with the packing, though she remembered she'd tried. Carrying an armful of clothes into the kitchen, Kiela dumped them into the sink to soak in water. She planned to use the excess line from the boat to hang them out in the sun to dry. They'll be even more beautiful once they're clean. The kitchen cabinet produced more treasures: a few plates, bowls, and cups. Each bowl was painted with pictures of strawberries and raspberries, and the plates were painted with tomatoes and asparagus. The teacups bore delicate pictures of flowers.”

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“A breeze whisked across the garden, and the leaves shimmered in the sunlight as they fluttered. She inhaled the heavy scent of green, growing things--- she could smell a hint of honey within the breeze, and she didn't know which flowers it came from. Prickly bushes with pale flowers filled one corner, and shoots with balls of purple flowers towered over another. She breathed in again and thought the nobles in Alyssium would have paid fistfuls of money to smell as light and lovely as the air on Caltrey. Just breathing it in made her feel like she was waking up after a night of perfect, deep sleep. She'd never felt quite so aware of the taste and feel of the air, or of the sounds of the birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. It made her feel like she could tackle any challenge--- if only she knew exactly how.”

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“You know, the original name for a merhorse was 'hippocampus,' but that fell out of favor because it's the same word as a part of the brain. Also, it sounds too much like hippopotamus, which isn't a similar animal at all." She had never seen a hippopotamus, though she'd read about them. "Did you know that hippopotamus secrete a red oil that keeps their skin dry and protects them from the sun?”

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“Across the water, she saw a herd of merhorses rise and fall with the waves. Her breath caught in her throat. Half horse and half fish, they were a magnificent sight. She watched, mesmerized, as they cantered through the water. Their hooves crashed through the waves as their powerful fish tails propelled them forward. Covered in jewellike scales and made of solid muscle, they were the living embodiment of both beauty and strength. Like the sea itself, Kiela thought. One of them tossed its mane, and droplets sprayed up and caught the light--- a flash of rainbow.”

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“Sitting on a recently cleaned chair, she bit into one of the buns. Sugary sweetness exploded in her mouth, and she sighed through the bread. Closing her eyes, she savored every morsel. It was light, fluffy, sweet, and perfect. Had he made this? How? She added "baking" to the growing list of useful skills she didn't possess. Eagerly, she picked up the wedge of cheese and bit into it. Sharp, woody flavor filled her mouth, and she swayed a bit as she shoved more into her mouth. Cheese in the city was typically soft and bland, intended to be spread or melted, a side note to the main dish, but this... It demanded to be devoured.”

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“Kiela bit into the pastry and was surprised by the burst of salt that prickled her tongue, the garlic that filled her sinuses, and the wonderful sweetness of... "What is that?" she asked as she chewed. "It's a kind of fish that used to be plentiful around Caltrey, the silver swift fish. I've been working on ways to highlight the flavor. Do you like it?" She'd tasted swift fish before, and it never tasted like this. The fish itself melted into the butter of the pastry, and when she swallowed... she felt as if she were inhaling the bright vividness of the sea itself. "It's incredible.”

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“She picked a raspberry, stared at it a moment, and then popped it into her mouth. For an instant, it felt smooth and tasteless, and then she squashed it. Sharp sweetness exploded gloriously over her tongue. It was so overwhelmingly raspberry that it felt as if it invaded her skull and displaced every thought--- there was only flavor. Powerful, intoxicating flavor. She'd forgotten what a freshly picked berry tasted like. On Alyssium, the fruit was imported. There wasn't space on the city island for gardens or orchards or berry patches. The emperor had had his greenhouses, filled with delicacies, but a librarian... She hadn't tasted a just-ripened raspberry since her childhood. It tasted like a bite of sunshine. Caz poked her ankle. "Are you poisoned?" "I'm in ecstasy," she corrected. "Huh," Caz said. "You really think this will work?" Kiela opened her eyes and again surveyed the wealth of berries before her, a glorious chaos of ruby-red riches, enough to create many jars of jam. "I think it's perfect.”

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“The Great Library of Alyssium, with its soaring spires, stained-glass windows, and labyrinthine bookshelves, was the jewel of the Crescent Islands Empire. Its hallowed stacks were filled with centuries-old treatises, histories, studies, and (most importantly, in Kiela's opinion) spellbooks. Only the elite, the crème de la crème of the scholars, were allowed to even view the spellbooks, as only the rarefied few were permitted, by imperial law, to use magic.”

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“A unicorn stepped onto the path. Kiela gasped. Caz breathed, "Whoa." It was like moonlit water, so bright that tears sprang into Kiela's eyes as she looked at it. Shaped like a dreamer's idea of a horse, the unicorn was slender and graceful--- closer to a line drawing than an in-the-flesh creature. Its neck curved like a wave, with its mane as the sea foam. The longer Kiela looked at it, the more she saw that it wasn't as white as the moon, it was iridescent, like mother-of-pearl, with purples and reds and blues that swirled through its silvery white hide. Its horn was a slender spiral of gold. It regarded them with ocean-blue eyes.”

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“She had memories of a quiet pool in the woods, where she'd retreat with her books, hiding from chores that needed to be done around the house. She remembered the sound of her parents after sunset, calling her to come home. The fireflies would flicker around her as it became too dark to read, but still she'd stay, to watch the fireflies over the water and listen to the birds and the squirrels settle in for the night and the night hunters, the owls and and the cats, begin to wake. Once, she'd even glimpsed a unicorn sipping from the pond, but it could have been only a white deer and a trick of the twilight. Another afternoon, her father had come with her, avoiding his chores too. They'd read books side by side, and her mother hadn't said a word when they'd returned. A week later, her mother had been the one to join her by the pond, arriving with lunch in a basket and presenting Kiela with a new unread book, a rare treasure on the island.”

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