Fenris Quotes

“I'm only keeping in touch with you for the sake of the children. Way to look after our son, by the way. I let you have him for the weekend and before I know it he's chained underground, awaiting Last Times and stinking of mead.”
― Joanne Harris, The Gospel of Loki

“Fenris was a good man and maybe the weakness of being good was that evil didn't occur to you.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“He fixed her with a thoughtful look, and it occurred to her that his eyes were the colour of sun-warmed earth, and she did not quite know what to do about it.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“Very unlikely people, you know, will share confidences with each other if they think the other person understands. A prisoner who won't tell a guard anything will thaw immediately if he's put in a cell with another man in for the same crime. And doctors who would bite off their own tongues before showing indecision to a patient will tell another doctor about how little they know and how frightened they are. I've seen it happen many times. It's how spies work.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“Maybe you and I could... not go home together?'

The words hung in the air between them, as fine as spun glass and just as fragile. Marra waited for him to say something, to catch the words or shatter them, whichever he chose.

'I think I'd like that,' said Fenris.

Marra sagged with relief.

She had been so focused on what he might say that she hadn't quite expected what he might do. So it came as a surprise when he wrapped both arms around her and put his lips against her hair. 'I think I would like that very much,' he murmured.

'Oh good,' said Marra, against his neck. And then she would have kissed him or he would have kissed her, but Bonedog decided that they were wrestling and jumped up and barked soundlessly at them both.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“The staircase seemed much longer going up than coming down. Perhaps that was always the way in a fairy world. The man she had ransomed, the man she needed, had his arm locked around hers. They leaned against each other, shoulder against shoulder, two humans in a place where no humans should ever have come. When Marra looked over at him in the sickly firefly light, she could see a silvery terror in his eyes, mastered but very much alive. Bonedog walked beside them, Marra's hand wrapped around the rope collar. She felt the illusion of fur against her fingers, except when she didn't and he briefly felt like bones.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“They emerged, stumbling in to the starlight. The man at Marra's side gasped in air as if he had never breathed before. 'Free,' he said. 'Am I free of that place?'

'Almost,' said the dust-wife. 'Not quite yet. We've got one foot in the other world, and it isn't safe to linger.'
...
'Now,' said the dust-wife, leaning on her staff. 'Now we're all the way back. Now you're free.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“Other times I have come home and I felt as if I had finally woken up after a long illness. I suspect these things say more about us than they do about the land itself.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“This part of the countryside did not go red and orange with autumn, only dun and yellow. Wind rustled through the dry stems of broom straw at the edges of the road.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“Marra thumped the pillow and then gave up. 'Fenris?'

'Yes?'

'I don't know how to ask this without giving you completely the wrong idea.'

'All right?'

'Do you remember on the road, when we slept back-to-back?'

He did not answer, but she heard the bed creak, and then the indignant snuffle of Bonedog being nudged out of the way. Her own bed sagged as Fenris sat on the edge of it. Marra scooted up against the wall to give him room.

His back was as solid and warm as she remembered. She sighed and felt something unclench, although whether it was in her jaw or her gut or her soul, she couldn't say.

'You're a saint,' she mumbled, tugging the blanket up around her shoulder.

'You have no idea,' muttered Fenris.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“You cannot help people who do not want help,' rumbled Fenris. 'You cannot force someone to do what you think is best for them.' He paused, then added, somewhat reluctantly. 'Well, you can. But they don't appreciate it and most of the time it turns out that you were wrong.'

'But-'

'We can only save people who want to be saved.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“Did an echo just tell us to run?' asked Agnes, adjusting Finder, and looking rather calmer than Marra felt.

'Do ghostly echoes have our best interest at heart?' asked Fenris, also remarkably calm.

'Rarely,' said the dust-wife.

Marra thought, I'm surrounded by lunatics, but and I love them all, but maybe we should be running, anyway.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“She broke in to a run, not caring if the thief-wheel heard her now, half sobbing. 'Fenris! Agnes! Dust-wife!'

'Marra?'

She broke in to the room and before she could even focus, Fenris had thrown his arms around her and had his face pressed against her hair. 'You're alive,' he said. 'I thought I'd lost you. You're alive.'

'You're alive, too!' she said. She wanted to stop and think about what I thought I'd lost you might mean, but it didn't quite seem like the time. And he was very warm and she was very cold and it was very pleasant to be held in such a fashion. 'You're alive.

'Yes, yes,' said the dust-wife testily. 'We're all alive. Please don't cry on me about it, though.'

Fenris finally released her, although not without reluctance. Bonedog immediately leapt up at her, washing her face with his tongue.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“He looked across the room and his eyes met hers. It was the same look he always had, the one that said, Can you believe two sensible people like us are caught up in this? And then he turned to meet the guards and Marra saw on his face the moment that he decided to die.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“It was fourteen hours later that Marra and the dust-wife flung themselves at the stone lid, scrabbling with all their strength. For a horrible moment, she thought that it would not be enough, that they would have to come back with levers, but it began, inch by agonising inch, to slide. They got it perhaps six inches and had to stop, panting.

Fingers slid out of the gap and caught the edge. Marra nearly wept with relief. Fenris shoved the lid aside and sat up, gasping for air.

'You're really here,' he said, bending over so that his forehead touched his drawn-up knees. 'I kept imagining voices, but you're really here this time.'

'We're here,' said Marra, the words this time jabbing her like pins.

He took a half dozen sobbing breaths. 'It is very close in there,' he said, 'even with holes.' His face was slick with sweat or tears, Marra did not know. 'Close and cold.'

'I'm sorry,' said Marra. 'I'm sorry. It was the only way I could think of.' She pulled him out of the coffin, or he climbed out and she helped, and he wrapped his arms around her and they stood together, shaking.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“She slept back-to-back with Fenris at night. No one commented. Sometimes he moved and she knew that he was also awake in the darkness, but neither of them quite had the nerve to act on it, not with Agnes and the dust-wife there. I could roll over. I could put my arm around his waist. I could...”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone

“At sunset, just as the light from the fire became brighter than the light from the doorway, she finished. The skeleton lay across her lap, complete, claws wired to paws vertebrae strung like beads.

'Wake,' she whispered, while the light faded outside the door. 'Wake. Please.'

The bones lay motionless in her lap. She bowed her head. Please. Please, Bonedog. I'm never going to see my sister again, or my mother. I'm not going to see the Sister Apothecary or the abbess. I need one more friend. Please.

It was too much like the first time. The second impossible task was also the third. She had always known that she had gotten off too lightly, being handed the moon in a jar.

Fenris took her free hand, careful of her sore fingertips, and held it between his palms, waiting with her.

'Please,' she said again, and a single tear ran hotly down her cheek and splashed on to the white expanse of skull.

Bonedog yawned and stretched and woke.

Marra let out a sob of relief and buried her head in Fenris's neck. He held her in the crook of his arm while Bonedog stood up and bounced and cavorted around the hut.”
― T. Kingfisher, Nettle & Bone