Midwinterblood The Supernatural Quotes

He took his seat by the window and did what everyone does before the instruction to switch off communications; he selected OneDegree on his device, and bumped.

And then… nothing.

He rebooted the app, and bumped again.

Nothing.

He shook his head, unable to understand it […]

He stared a moment longer at his device, wondering if the new version had a bug.

As if something sinister had happened, he leaned out of his seat and a little furtively studied his fellow passengers. (1.1.11-15, 17-18)

There is nothing much about it on the Net. Nothing beyond the times of the steamboat, the hours of sun-fall and moon-up, a brief history of the old fishing trade, now gone.

As for the rumors…

No firsthand accounts, no original source material. The pages that do mention them are simply rehashes of each other, leaving very few original hits to glean anything from.

So little to be read on the Net; that's another strange thing about the place.

All he's heard are the rumors, stories, the speculation, and the swiftly lost words of whispered secrets, about the island where people have started to live forever. (1.1.38-42)

"Well, my guess," says Nancy, "is that it's a parent and child. They must have died at the same time—probably disease—and were buried together. The child in the arms of the mother. Or father."

"That's so sad."

"It's kind of nice, too, though," Nancy says. "It's so protective. As if the parent is keeping
their child safe. Even in death. Did you ever read about that Mesolithic burial with the skeleton of a child, lain on a swan's wing? I think that's beautiful, too. Like the wing would fly it to heaven."
(2.8.7-9)

The modern world had arrived with the new century, and Bridget read about it sometimes; the amazing new things that science had created: of lighter-than-air ships, of pocket cameras, of wireless transmissions.

She didn't object to such things, she just didn't understand why the old things she had learned from her mother should be swept aside by the new. And there lay a problem, because even
Merle herself didn't understand fully the ways of the dragon flower plant, that could heal if prepared in a certain way, or could kill if prepared in another. She had learned a little of its ways, but no one knew everything about it anymore, of all the uses it could be put to, of all the dangers it held. (4.2.5-6)

The witch nodded, and from a cupboard she produced a glass jar of some cloudy liquid, purplish-black.

She nodded again.

"This will do what you require," she said. "Wait until nightfall. Go into the woods, or some other place where you will not be seen. Take off all your clothes, for you do not want to be caught in them when you wake again. Drink it. Drink it all. You will sleep.

"When you wake again, you will have assumed the form you desire, but you must make sure you hold that form in your mind as you go to sleep.

"Is that understood?"

Merle said nothing, and nodded. (5.7.13-18)

"Children," said their mother, more gently. "This is Laura, here. She wasn't able to join us until today. I told you all this, don't you remember? Her mother has been sick, and she has only just arrived now."

The twins turned to each other, then back to their parents. They looked at Laura suspiciously.

"Then who is it in our room?"

Now, their parents' eyes widened, and Herr Graf suddenly stormed upstairs. He was gone a little while, and then returned.

"Nothing," he said. "No one. As I said, one of your games."

The children were too bewildered to answer.

"And did one of you spill your water? The boards are damp, at the foot of the bed." (5.8.30-36)

As we burst in, he lifted his head, and we saw the blood running freely from his lips, from where he had been drinking from Bera's throat.

He stood, and pointed at us.

At Eirik, I mean. And me.

Then he spoke, in a voice thick, choked from the blood that was still trickling down inside.

"I want my children."

He walked toward us.

Father, and some of the other men, were quick, and grabbed burning logs from the fire, waving them at Tor, thinking that fire would harm this evil, and they seemed to be right.

Tor squealed like a pig that has been cut, and suddenly was gone. (6.9.16-23)

The snow lay deep upon the ground, and everyone wondered at how Tor was able to come out at night, and not make a mark on the snow. Anywhere.

"He is a devil now," Father said, shrugging. "Who knows what things he can do? Enough! We dig!"

The men dug, first clearing the snow from the mound, then the sparse earth that had been scattered over the stones of the cairn, and then, making a chain of bodies, the large stones of the cairn were lifted away, one by one.

With all the cairn stones gone, it only was left to lift the stone lid.

"Wulf…?" began one man.

Others drew back. A waiting fear had crept into us all.

"What are we doing?"

"What if…?"

But Father stepped onto the lid. And stamped his foot.

"Whatever is in here. Whatever it is, it's not Tor. Not anymore. And now, with daylight, it can do nothing. So stop bellyaching and help me lift this stone. For our children's sake!"

The lid was lifted, and there, inside the grave, lay Tor.

It was another wonder.

His body was uncorrupted. He looked as though he slept. That was all.

And yet, there was blood at the corners of his mouth.

Father turned to Leif.

"Did you bring them?" he asked, and Leif stepped forward holding a leather bag.

Father took it from him, and pulled out a massive hammer, and two stout stakes, made of whitethorn, from the western isle.

No one helped my father.

He knelt down, to finish what he had begun. He hammered the first stake right through Tor's chest, and deep, deep, deep into the soil beneath.

He took the second stake, and drove it hard into Tor's mouth, between his lips, which opened to take this offering. There was a crunch and a crack of bone, but Father did not stop hammering until only the very tip of the stake was pointing from Tor's mouth.

Father stood.

"Try walking now," he muttered. (6.10.15-36)

In front of the musicians, two small old men dance madly, too. Dressed in skins, and fur boots, they are the shamans; their eyes stare blindly into the distance, for they don't see in this world; they see in other worlds. (7.1.15)

He looks at Thorolf, and at Gunnar, and with the magic of the dragon inside him, he speaks his last words.

"You cannot kill me," he shouts hoarsely, and yet as loudly as he can. "You cannot kill me. Do you not know my name? I am Eirikr. The One King! Forever Strong, and though you kill my body today, I will live again! I will live!" (7.3.53-54)