Harrowbethian Saga Quotes

“Eena turned aside, breathing shallowly as her mind raced with questions. She was glad he couldn’t read the confusion that swooped her up like a passing tornado. Was it even possible to genuinely love more than one man?

Yes. Oh, yes.

She knew it because her heart irrefutably felt it. She loved Derian; it was true. She wasn’t trying to convince herself of it, no matter what Edgar said. She yearned deeply for her captain.

But she loved Ian too. She always had. Only she purposefully, appropriately, had set those feelings aside when he made the decision to pursue Angelle.

But Angelle was gone now.

No, Eena thought to herself, this changes nothing. She scolded her heart for longing for something spent and ended, for even considering the possibility. Her with Ian? No, no, it had to remain in the past.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

“Eena worried to Ian in her thoughts. (You’re not going to let him walk away thinking what I think he’s thinking, are you?)

(You won't change his mind. The evidence is a little suggestive. You should have just stayed behind me.)

(Oh, this is all my fault?)

(Well, you were the one swimming in your underwear.)

(And you’re the one who took your shirt off!)

(You think the alternative would have been better?)

She shuttered at the thought of the Braetic stumbling across her in her underclothes.

“Cale,” Eena said in another attempt to convince the stranger. Somehow she managed to sidestep Ian’s effort to halt her, and she approached the man. “I am not messing around with my protector. I am, and always have been, true and faithful to Derian. It’s just……a lot of weird things have happened lately.”

The Braetic looked willing to consider a good excuse. “Such as?”

“Well,” she started, casting a furtive glance at Ian. He was shaking his head, conveying strong disapproval. She ignored him.

“Okay, well…..I’ve been fighting these immortals who are bent on using me to break free from an imprisoning gem where they were sentenced to stayed locked up for eternity. They nearly annihilated a world of Viiduns—that’s how awful they are! But one of these immortals has control over my necklace, and her brother keeps transporting me and my protector all over Moccobatra in search of pieces to a star-shaped platform they intend to use to free their bodies which have been trapped for over three-thousand years now. We were sent here at an inopportune—and highly embarrassing—moment to find the final piece to the platform. It’s been a nightmare just trying to stay alive!”

“Wow,” Cale breathed, not looking half as concerned as Eena thought he ought to. “So these immortals are using you and trying to kill you at the same time?”

She shook her head. “No, no, only the dragons are trying to kill me…or they were trying to kill me until Naga put a stop to them.” Eena heard Ian’s hand smack against his forehead. She saw humor sweep over the Braetic’s face. It made her angry.

“Dragons too, huh?” Cale snickered.

“It’s the truth!” she insisted.

(Eena, just forget it. You’re only making it worse.)

She ignored her protector’s advice again. “Cale, I’m telling you the honest-to-goodness truth. Do you know the story of Wanyaka Cave? The red-gemmed prison and the two spirit sisters?”

Completely out of patience, Ian broke into the conversation, rudely speaking over his queen. “We’ll be on our way now, sir. We apologize for trespassing.”

With a big grin on his face, the Braetic offered a friendly alternative. “Why don’t the pair of you accompany me home. I’m sure my wife can round up some suitable clothing for you. Those immortals must have a ripe sense of humor, leaving you alone in the woods without any decent attire.” He caught a chuckle in his throat. “That is unless it was the dragons who took the shirt off your back.”

“Dragons are immortals!” Eena snapped, as if any fool ought to know it.

Ian flashed her a harsh look. “We would greatly appreciate the help, sir.”

“Oh, it’ll cost you something,” Cale informed them, “but we can discuss that on our way.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

“It’s perfect,” she softly sighed.

“Just like in our dream,” Ian agreed.

“Almost.” Her eyes flickered sideways to catch Ian’s handsome profile. A tiny grin inched up higher at the corner of his mouth. His shoulders slumped under the weight of expectations that he perceived clearly in her thoughts.

“You want too much from me, Eena. Perfection is a tall order to fill.”

“This moment is already perfect,” she assured him.

“Until I disappoint you by burping during a wet, slobbery kiss.”

She groaned his name with a hint of disgust. “You wouldn’t dare ruin this moment on purpose.”

“No,” he admitted, “no I wouldn’t.” He smiled again, but there remained real concern in his eyes. “I’m afraid you’re anticipating a lot. It isn’t going to be like it was in our dream. All the mystical things that happen in dreams don’t happen in reality. That experience was…well… beyond duplicating.”

“Then don’t kiss me at all,” she decided. “Just stay here with me and I’ll be content.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

“That’s the sad irony of life. Once we learn our lessons… it’s over.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

“Derian pulled the blanket snug around himself. “This is my added assurance.”

Eena wrinkled her nose as if she thought his answer was odder than his actions. “It’s your what?”

“If you recall the last time we were here standing in this very spot, you pelted me with neumberries.” He held up a single berry before popping it into his mouth. “I doubt you would risk soiling your blanket, so I figure wrapping it around me this way I’m pretty much assured safety from any potential attack.”

He winked playfully, and she laughed out loud.

“I’m afraid you don’t know me half as well as you think,” she announced. Aiming low, she flung a sizable berry at his calf. It hit its mark.

“Whoa, whoa!” He lowered the blanket to cover his legs.

“You can’t hide yourself entirely, Derian,” she said, aiming for his face. He ducked, raising the blanket like a shield in the process.

Another round of ammunition pelted his ankles before he decided it was time to fight back. Eena found herself bound up in her own blanket, arms wrapped securely at her sides. She laughed nonstop, unable to move within his strong hold. Derian leaned forward until their noses touched, and then he kissed her giggles silent. He kept her in the blanket, snug and close to him, but Eena managed to wriggle an arm free and drape it around his neck, holding his lips in reach. She uttered a quick count in between kisses.

“Seven,” she breathed.

Derian paused, his mouth a whisper away from hers. It tickled when he spoke.

“No, no, Eena.”

“No what?”

“No counting. Not today. No ground rules.”

She barely uttered a partial “’kay” before his mouth covered hers again. His hot breath tasted like breakfast. He fixed his hands on each side of her face, and the blanket fell to the ground. As the intensity of their kisses grew hungry, he gripped her cheeks more securely. Eena could feel the air electrifying around them. Her heartbeat drummed—excited and anxious.

“Derian…” she breathed. But he didn’t stop.

She felt his hand move to support her neck while the other slid down her back, urging her closer. She brought her arms together and pressed against his chest, somewhat objecting to the intimacy.

“Derian…” she tried again. But he covered her mouth with his own.

She pushed more firmly against him without success. Her protest weakened as his kisses softened. The fervor subsided, and she could feel her wild pulse even out. Amidst a string of supple kisses, Derian’s breathing slowed. He planted his lips on her forehead for a moment before squeezing her tenderly. She snuggled up against his warm chest.

“One ground rule,” he whispered in her ear. “We stop when you say ‘when.’”

“When,” she uttered.

“Okay,” he agreed.

Then, as if the thought had just occurred to her, she stepped back to look up questioningly at the captain. “Wasn’t there a leftover sandwich in that basket from last night?”

His lips formed a guilty smile as he confessed, “Yes—and it was delicious.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Two Sisters

“Sevenah resumed staring up at the darkness. The sun had set entirely, giving way for the appearance of a speckled night’s sky. It seemed the more she stared, the greater the number of stars. She pondered the immensity of the universe and how it resembled an artist’s black canvas peppered with a haphazard splattering of white paint.

“I think there probably is life out there a lot like our own. I can’t imagine so many suns—so many planets—and not at least one of them being something like ours.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Dawn and Rescue

“Eena focused on the younger version of herself. Her hair was tied back with a pink ribbon. The ruffled dress she wore was soiled up to the waist in wet grains of sand. A short, square shovel was gripped tightly as the child concentrated on her digging efforts.

Curious, Eena stepped closer to the girls. Ian followed along silently. Eena could feel his eyes on her, searching her profile before turning to the sand scene. She approached her younger self and stopped to watch. At first, she smiled at the darling ponytailed child. Then the spoiled girl’s mouth opened.

“Angee,” the five-year-old called the younger version of Angelle. “Go get water.”

The older child jumped up at the command. “Yes, Eena.”

“A whole bucket full.”

“Yes, Eena.”

“Angee, don’t step on my holes!”

The older girl quickly picked up her foot, checking to be sure there were no child-made burrows nearby. She nodded at the little five-year-old. “Okay, Eena, I’ll be careful.”

Instead of being grateful, the ponytailed child tilted her head and bugged out her eyes. “Hurry up, Angee!”

“Okay, okay.” The young Angelle lifted her skirt to watch for surrounding holes while carting a bucket in her other hand towards the lake.

Eena frowned at the sight. She heard Ian snicker beside her.

“I was a brat,” she admitted ruefully.

“You still are.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

“Kode’s older sister, Kira, was leaning over a display of jewelry, fisting a jade-green necklace in one hand. Her nose was two inches from the Braetic across the table, the two exchanging intimidating glares. Eena watched for a few seconds as Kira all but crawled over a pile of merchandise, her face scrunched up with resentment, yet enviably stunning as always.

“Hey Kode,” the young queen whispered.

“Hey, girl.”

“What’s going on?”

“Kira’s bartering.”

Eena watched the fistful of necklace come within a whisker of smacking the merchant’s nose.

“She isn’t going to hurt the guy, is she?”

Kode snorted on a chuckle. “Not if the dude’s got any sense.”

Validly concerned, Eena inched closer to the confrontation, straining to hear their growled dialogue. Kode and Niki crept closer too. Efren, however, stayed where he was, testing the flagpole’s ability to support his body weight.

They watched the feisty Mishmorat hold up a small pouch and shake it in front of the Braetic’s eyes. Kira’s fingers curled like claws around the purse. She seemed to smirk for a second when the merchant flinched. In a blink he was back in her face again, shoving aside the purse.

“What is she trying to trade?” Eena asked, her voice still hushed as though she might disturb the haggling taking place across the way.

“Viidun coins,” Kode said. “Ef gave ‘em to her.”

“Are they worth much?’

Kode grinned wryly, “He sure as hell don’t freakin’ think so.”

Eena foresaw Niki’s disapproving smack to the back of Kode’s head before he even finished his sentence. He cursed at his girlfriend for the physical abuse, an unwise response that earned him an additional thump on the head.

“Freakin’ tyrant,” Kode grumbled.

“Vulgar grogfish,” Niki retorted.

Still unable to hear well enough to satisfy her curiosity, Eena stole in closer to the scene of heated bartering. She stopped when Kira’s strong voice carried over the murmur of the crowd. Kode and his girlfriend were right on her heels.

“This purse is worth ten of those gaudy necklaces. You oughta be payin’ me to take ‘em off your hands, Braetic!”

“That alien money is worthless to me, Mishmorat. In all my life I’ve never left Moccobatran soil. And even if I were to take an interstellar trip someday, you’d never catch the likes of me on a barbarian planet like Rapador!”

Kira jerked her head, causing her black, cascading hair to ripple over her shoulder. The action made the trader flinch again. His eyes tapered, appearing to fume over what he perceived as intentional bullying.

“You ain’t gonna sell this crap to no one else,” the exotic Mishmorat said. “Be smart and take the money. Hell, you could make a dozen pieces of jewelry from these coins. Sell ’em all for ten times the worth of anything you got here.”

The Braetic shoved his finger at Kira’s chest, breathing down her throat at the same time. “Why don’t you just take your pretty little backside away from my table and make your own Viidun jewelry. Sell it yourself and then come back with a reasonable offer for my necklace.” His palm opened flat, demanding she hand over the jade stones still in her fist.

“You wanna make me?” Kira breathed.

“What do you plan to do, steal it?” The merchant challenged her in a gesture, nostrils flaring.

“I’m no thief, but I’m not above beating some sense into you ‘til you choose to barter like a respectable Braetic!”

Caught up in the intense interaction, Kode supported his sister a little too loudly. “Teach the freakin’ crook a lesson, Sis!”

Niki smacked her boyfriend upside the head without missing a beat.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

“Efren’s mouth was busily chattering away, his body animated as though narrating some fascinating storybook adventure. The Braetic’s eyes were glued on the Viidun, sparked with interest.

“Betcha a meal Ef gets that necklace for the same purse of worthless coins Kira tried to trade,” Eena heard Kode whisper to his girlfriend.

“Betcha he pays up far more than that,” Niki whispered back.

“No way. He’s got the idiot eating out of his hands. Ef’s a freakin’ master!”

Right on cue came the predictable slap to the head.

“Ouch!”

Then the cursing. Followed by another smack.

“Sadistic witch!”

“Filthy bonehead.”

A minute of pouting silence ensued. “So you gonna bet me or what?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a free meal from you any day.”

“You’re on, Niki. Ef’s not givin’ up nothin’. He’ll have that necklace for the purse, if not for free.”

“You’re a fool if you believe that. That oversized, lovesick warrior’ll be givin’ up the shirt on his back for Kira’s necklace. You don’t understand Braetics, nor the powerful influence of true love.”

Eena could see Kode’s eyes roll to the back of his head. They all watched, wondering who would be right.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

“The young lady then placed her hands on Kode’s shoulder, letting her cheek rest on top of the pile. The smile on her face was more than a victory smile. It was a happy sign of contentment. Eena wondered.

“When do you suppose those two will get married?” She whispered the question to Kira who still had a firm grip on her arm.

“Kode get married?” The incredulity on Kira’s face matched her brother’s strong outburst.

“Who the hell says I’m gettin’ hitched?”

Niki pushed herself away from her boyfriend’s shoulder; her upper lip curled into a resentful scowl at the negative way he had voiced his query.

Eena had never meant for them to overhear. She stumbled over a justification for the question. “It’s just that you’ve been together for a while, you know, like a couple. Close. I mean, you’re always together so…I just figured…” she let the notion trail off.

Kode looked queasy. “We’re always together ‘cause she bloody follows me around everywhere I go like I’m some freakin’ tour guide!”

“Fine!” Niki exclaimed, holding her palms like a defensive wall in front of her. “I’ll leave if that’s what you want. I don’t need you! There’s plenty of other guys who’d love to get their lips on me!” With that outburst, the pretty Mishmorat twirled her body around, setting off on foot with both fists seared into her hips. Kode let her take about four steps before he darted over and dragged her back. She didn’t put up much of a fight, but her beautiful burgundy eyes refused to look at him.

“Ungrateful woman,” he murmured. “No one asked you to leave.”

Niki continued to glare up at the cloudy sky.

Kode sighed a long, perturbed sound. His next words were mumbled like they were torturous to have to speak out loud.

“Come on, Niki, you know I don’t want you to go. Who the hell’s gonna keep me in line if you’re gone?”

That made the pretty Mishmorat smile. She breathed in deeply and then dropped her gaze onto her man. His face was a goofy grimace, hers a smug grin of satisfaction. Kode threw an arm roughly around his girlfriend and pulled her close to him. He then turned to Eena, shrugging one shoulder.

“She’ll probably break down and marry me this summer,” he said. “That’s what I’m thinkin’ anyway.” Niki’s head went back to rest on Kode’s shoulder, right where it had started.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

“The past wasn’t something that could be changed or repaired, and so it was a place Ian refused to dwell. That wasn’t the case with Eena. She often wandered on pathways long since set in stone. That was her way. She had some need to rearrange those stones from her past every now and then, as if changing how she perceived them altered anything. He felt guilty for wishing she would turn her back on it all. To him, no matter how the past was viewed, it was still the same pile of unchangeable, regrettable stones.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare

“To offer your life in defense of another is a valiant, honorable way to die.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“Shanks snickered with delight. “It’s the end result that matters, doll. Only the victor walks away with his head intact. Every soldier on this ship knows that as well.”

Eena glared hard at the smirking giant. “Oh, and one more thing. Kira really hates you.”

Shanks broke out in such a fit of laughter that even Kode found it contagious. Niki smacked her boyfriend on the back of the head for being insensitive.

(Kira did not say that,) Ian groaned critically.

(So what? It’s true,) Eena grumbled. (I hate him too.)

(I don’t know why you let the guy get under your skin. Who cares what he thinks? You have nothing to prove to him.)

Eena glared harder at the laughing Viidun as she thought about what bothered her most. It was the way Shanks acted, as if he considered himself superior to everyone. The thug was always bossing people around, snubbing their opinions, surpassing others at even the most trivial accomplishments. But the worst thing was that he honestly saw himself as invincible.

(The guy is full of himself, so what? Just let it roll off your back.)

If only simple advice were as simple to carry out.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“If only simple advice were as simple to carry out.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“What secrets?” Eena blurted out.

Kira answered the question by defensively listing them out on her fingers. “How about the fact that Derian was coming for you in a few short days, or the fact that Gemdorin was forcing you to search for some magic gem we were all unaware existed. How about the knowledge of your unusual powers that you stupidly used to infect the Ghengats, which was also a secret you kept to yourself until it was discovered by Gemdorin, making it too late for us to do anything about preventing you from being beaten half to death! You hide things as if you think your abilities are so superior to what the rest of us can possibly contribute!”

Eena shook her head adamantly. “That’s not what I think…”

“It’s how you behave. It’s how you come across to everyone. Your selfish actions speak a helluva lot louder than your hollow words or your foolish intentions.”

The young queen felt a rise of tears burn her eyes. “My intentions are not foolish. All I ever meant to do was protect those around me.”

“By keeping us in the dark? That’s not protection, girl. That’s neglect.”

Eena sniffled as fresh waterworks ran down her cheeks. Her face twisted up, confused. “People get hurt when they’re involved in my problems.”

“In our problems.”

“No! My problems!” she insisted.

Kira threw up her arms. “There you go being all selfish again!”

Eena sucked in a ragged breath, almost crying out the next question. “How do you figure that’s being selfish? I’m trying to keep everyone safe!”

“And what did I just get through telling you about that idiotic notion?”

Eena looked up at the ceiling. She raised her palms in frustration as she bawled. “I don’t know what else to do! What do you want from me?”

Kira stepped forward and knelt in front of her tortured sister. Her hand rested gently on Eena’s knee as the Mishmorat’s gruff countenance melted. A softer, kinder voice answered the desperate question.

“We want you to understand that the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders. You’re only responsible for a small portion of what happens daily on Moccobatra. Life isn’t dependent upon you alone, Sha Eena. It’s dependent upon all of us. We’re a team. We work together doing our own part. We need you to be part of our team, not a single entity existing on your own.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“She covered her mouth while her promised one slipped back into the rock he now considered his eternal tomb.

Pallador took possession of the scarlet gem and returned it to its dark hiding place. Eena couldn’t move. She stood frozen, facing the wall of mirrors, staring at a pathetic image that mourned in endless repeated reflections. This would be her agonizing eternity if she agreed to stay in Tribanees. This would be her hell—seeing her beloved day after day after day, unable to feel his touch or know his physical affections. This was no blessing in tragedy. Cursed be the immortal that believed time was more precious than love. Her answer to Pallador’s offer was an irrefutable and definitive no.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“Cursed be the immortal that believed time was more precious than love.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“You will want to stand close by, but don’t touch it. Just allow your hands to hover. Pretend an atmosphere of acidic gas exists between you and the gemstone, and if you get too close, the acid will eat the flesh off your fingers.”

“That won’t actually happen, will it?”

“No, Amora. I’m just warning you not to touch it.”

“Why? What if I do?”

“The enchantment will fail.”

“From a simple touch?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Edgar groaned a sound of annoyance. “Because if you touch it, the stone will suck out your living essence in the most painful manner possible and consume your flesh before turning your bones to powder.”

Her face twisted up imagining the agony of such a death. The worst part was that being immortal, she would somehow survive it.

“You’re lying,” she quickly decided.

“Am I?”

“You just said the flesh won't be eaten off my fingers.”

“If you don’t believe me when I tell you not to touch it, feel free to test the outcome of such folly for yourself.”

“I think I’d rather not.”

“A wise choice. Shall we move on?”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“(You look the same.)

(I’m not using it yet.)

(Don’t you think a test run would be a good idea?)

She nodded. (Probably.)

Her eyelids closed as she concentrated on a mental image of the person she wished to impersonate. Her desire was to appear exactly as the immortal leader, Pallador. Calling on the powers of the dragon’s blood, she willed its enchantment alive. It was Ian’s astounded whisper that told her the charm was working.

“Whoa!”

Opening her eyes she fully expected to see Ian staring at the shining gems on the dragon’s blood. Instead, he was staring at her with a look that was more or less disgusted.

(That’s really you?) he asked, looking her up and down as though she had turned into some sort of lizard creature.

(Yes, why? What’s wrong with me?) Her gaze dropped to check for herself. All she observed was her tawny dress pulled in at the waist by Edgar’s hideous, glowing belt. She glanced at one arm and then the other, both sleeved in the same billowed silk. Her fingers flailed, still the same short, slender digits.

(Oh crud,) she breathed. (It’s not working.)

(Oh, it’s working alright,) Ian disagreed.

Eena glanced up to find him grinning with real amusement.

(You’re a dead ringer for the guy. Ghost robe, bug eyes, bony fingers, in need of a serious haircut. Exactly like him.)

(Really?)

(Really.)

(Cool,) she breathed and then added, (That’s not very nice how you described him.)

(It’s accurate.)”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“Thank you." After rounding the couch, the young queen sat her hip on the cushy armrest. Her thoughts went back to the impromptu party in the commissary the night before. “I assume no Mishmorats or Viiduns are missing. Do you know if any real mischief took place last night after we left?”

“None you need to worry about,” Ian told her. She could see he was hiding something by the twinkle in his eye.

“What happened?” she asked, certain he had a story to tell.

“Let’s just say there may be an influx of soldiers visiting your garden.”

Her eyes scrunched, unable to guess what he was talking about. “Okay, and why?”

Ian’s shoulders jostled with a snicker. “Efren showed off your garden to Kira last night. She discovered the warm pond. You know how your sisters have a fondness for swimming in their underclothes.”

“Oh great,” Eena groaned.

“But don’t worry about it too much, Queenie, there is a deterrent.” Ian let go a laugh he couldn’t quite stifle.

“What deterrent?” she asked, grinning at his amusement.

“Shanks likes to swim too.”

“Oh?”

“Actually, he prefers skinny dipping.”

“Ew! Ew, Ian, like I need that image in my head!”

(Now you know how I feel on a regular basis,) he said, cracking up.

After a moment of grossing out, Eena all but begged Ian, “Please, can we change the subject.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“Pressing a palm against the new mother’s tummy, Eena closed her eyes and let the dragon’s soul kindle. Her mind sensed the fetus, picturing a disproportionately large head and little appendages still developing. She identified a rapid heartbeat pumping vital blood and nutrients throughout the body. She felt breathing-like movements and uncontrolled twitches that the mother could not yet perceive. She was aware of the massive reproduction of cells taking place, forming intricate, detailed anatomy. Here was a life-form. A young boy. He was healthy. So was his mom. It was remarkable.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“You are part of our sisterhood, girl, which means for life. We rely on you, and we need you to rely on us. We’re sisters, trusting in each other always. If I don’t know what’s happening in your life, there’s no way I can help. And if I can’t help, then I’m of no value. Don’t do that to me.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“It doesn’t ever change. Does the sun not set in your dreams?”

Eena grinned at his profile, remembering the first time Ian had noticed the same peculiarity. “No. It never sets.” She watched his brow wrinkle as he wondered at the view.

“What good is a stagnant sunset?”

Eena looked at the auburn lights. The question made her think for a moment. “Well, it’s always exactly what I want it to be, right between day and night.”

“But I thought the beauty of a sunset was watching it change, marveling at the shift in colors as they intensify and then eventually fade.”

“All that leaves you with is darkness,” she muttered.

He turned to look at her. “You’re afraid of the dark?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid of what happens in the dark.”

A look of concern questioned her meaning.

“Nightmares,” she explained. “And solitude. And loneliness. The dark is where monsters come to life and people feel the need to leave you. Life is never secure in the dark. You never see things clearly in the dark.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“I’ve worn Niki’s pants for two days now. I thought a third day in the same clothes might be pushing it.”

Ian shrugged with indifference. “It might send Derian through the roof, but it doesn’t bother me. Wear what you want to wear.”

Eena wrinkled her nose at him. “Do you really feel that way or are you trying to appear more laissez-faire than Derian?”

“More laissez-faire?”

“Yes. That’s a real word.”

“Two words actually,” he grinned. “Laissez faire et laissez passer, le monde va de lui même!" He coated the words with a heavy French accent. Eena gawked at him.

“Since when do you speak French?”

“I don’t.” Ian chuckled. “But I did do some research in world history the year I followed you around on Earth. Physics was a joke, but history—that I found fascinating.”

Slapping a hand against her chest, Eena exclaimed, “I can’t believe it! Unbeknownst to me, Ian actually studied something in high school other than the library’s collection of sci-fi paperbacks!”

He grimaced at her exaggerated performance before defending his preferred choice of reading material. “Hey, popular literature is a valuable and enlightening form of world history. You would know that if you read a book or two.”

She ignored his reproach and asked with curiosity, “What exactly did you say?”

“In French?”

“Duh, yes.”

“Don’t ‘duh’ me, you could easily have been referring to my remark about enlightening literature. I know the value of a good book is hard for you to comprehend.” He grinned crookedly at her look of offense and then moved into an English translation of his French quote. “Let it do and let it pass, the world goes on by itself.”

“Hmm. And where did that saying come from?”

Ian delivered his answer with a surprisingly straight face. “That is what the French Monarch said when his queen began dressing casually. The French revolution started one week following that famous declaration, right after the queen was beheaded by the rest of the aristocracy in her favorite pair of scroungy jeans.”

“You are such a brazen-tongued liar!”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Companionship of the Dragon's Soul

“Rescuing Derian would mean suffering the wrath of the immortal governing body. It would mean breaking their abiding rules, facing another trial where her fate would be determined by beings compassionless to the mortal effects of time. It would quite possibly mean a dire sentence for Eena, and worse, the fulfilling of Ascultone’s prediction about her. Even so, there was no way she could abandon Derian, not now that she knew for certain he was alive. She could not turn her back on the man who had sacrificed every bit of his life for her, the man who had done nothing but remain loyal and undaunted in pursuing and protecting her since the day she was born.”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Eena, The Tempter's Snare