Summoned Quotes

“I'm not a dog to be summoned,' I said by way of greeting.

Slowly, Rhys looked over his shoulder. Those violet eyes were vibrant in the light, and I curled my fingers into fists as they swept from my head to my toes and back up again. He frowned at whatever he found lacking. 'I didn't want you to get lost,' he said blandly.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“You reckless bastard," I said, my throat tight.
The ground was thrown open into a fiery maw, out of which slowly emerged a curved set of obsidian horns. The horns were attached to a giant head, which was attached to a spiked torso that looked like it was made of muscles and lava. And Jerod stood there the whole time, hands outstretched and his face contorted in discomfort.
"What the shit class demon is that?" Gavin asked.
"I think... it's a behemoth," I said weakly.
The thing rose from the ground, towering so high over anything in the shopping plaza that I was sure all of Seattle could see it. Demonic was a good descriptor. So was nightmare. So was Armageddon.”
― Sabrina Blackburry, Dirty Lying Dragons

“She raised her eyes to the edge of the wood. "Lady of the forest, you have come to me twice before," Anne said. "You have waited for me and I did not know why. But now I think I know. Will you come again?"
Gralon Meur drew in a sharp breath.
The unicorn stepped soundlessly out from between the trees, with snow tangled in her mane, a cold winter light like silver-gilt on the horn. Then she shook the snow away and was in the same dawn as they. She arched her neck.
"Lady," whispered Gralon Meur. He was silent a long moment, like a man dazzled or dreaming.”
― Katherine Arden, The Unicorn Hunters

“In the never nowhere,'" I read, "'there lived a horse called the Night Mare. Her black coat was sleek as oil, her hooves forged from obsidian. No one knew from what realm she came— or if she came from a realm at all. It was rumored she belonged only to the night, which spans all realms, linking them all yet belonging to none. In this in-between existence, the Night Mare alone had the ability to harness Night Magic, the strongest magic of all.'"
Out of the corner of my eye, the room's light takes on a rich golden hue, growing so intense that I have to squeeze my eyes shut against the brilliance.
Luna gasps softly. My father murmurs something under his breath, full of awe. The golden light warms my fabric skin, and I dare to open my eyes.
When I do, I feel the world shift.
A creature stands in my house, straight out of the Grimoriel's ruffled pages. A black horse— no, not just black. Her coat is the deep velvet of a moonless night sky, yet golden strands wink and glow softly. Her mane flows as if caught in an invisible breeze. Her dark eyes are large, deep, ancient. And somehow gentle.”
― Megan Shepherd, Shadow over the Pumpkin Queen