It happens every November 1: the Scorpio Races. Riders attempt to keep hold of their capall uisce (water horses) long enough to make it to the finish line. Some riders live. Others die.
At age nineteen, Sean Kendrick is the returning champion. He is a young man of few words, and if he... read more
Every November, the Scorpio Races are run beneath the chalk cliffs of Skarmouth. Thousands gather to watch the horses and the sea that washes the blood from the sand. The mounts are capaill uisce: savage water horses. There are no horses more beautiful, more fearless, more deadly. To race them... read more
Every November, the Scorpio Races are run beneath the chalk cliffs of Skarmouth. Thousands gather to watch the horses and the sea that washes the blood from the sand. The mounts are capaill uisce: savage water horses. There are no horses more beautiful, more fearless, more deadly. To race them can be suicide but the danger is irresistible.
““I stare at him. "You can't risk not winning. Not because of me." Sean doesn't lift his eyes from the counter. "We make our move when you make yours. You on the inside, me on the outside. Corr can come from the middle of the pack; he's done it before. It's one side you won't have to worry about." I say, "I will not be your weakness, Sean Kendrick." Now he looks at me. He Says, very softly, "It's late for that, Puck.””Puck Connolly
““As the sun shines low and red across the water, I wade into the ocean. The water is still high and brown and murky with the memory of the storm, so if there’s something below it, I won’t know it. But that’s part of this, the not knowing. The surrender to the possibilities beneath the surface. It wasn’t the ocean that killed my father, in the end. The water is so cold that my feet go numb almost at once. I stretch my arms out to either side of me and close my eyes. I listen to the sound of water hitting water. The raucous cries of the terns and the guillemots in the rocks of the shore, the piercing, hoarse questions of the gulls above me. I smell seaweed and fish and the dusky scent of the nesting birds onshore. Salt coats my lips, crusts my eyelashes. I feel the cold press against my body. The sand shifts and sucks out from under my feet in the tide. I’m perfectly still. The sun is red behind my eyelids. The ocean will not shift me and the cold will not take me.””Sam Kendrick
“The island will take you, if you let it.”Sean Kendrick
“Most people hesitate between steps or pause or are somehow uneven about the process. Whether that process is wrapping a leg or eating a sandwich or just living life. But with Sean, there's never a move he's not sure of, even if it means not moving at all.”Kate (Puck) Connelly
“"Tell me what to wish for," I say. "Tell me what to ask the sea for.""To be happy. Happiness."”Sean Kendrick and Puck Connelly
“I'm quite happy for the smile, because Dad told me once you should be grateful for the gifts that are the rarest.”Puck Connelly
“I always liked the idea of being such a bother that I affected even the weather.”
““What I need is for your mother to have thought a little harder nine months before your birthday.””
““I’m not trying to change anything but my own situation,” I say.”Puck Connelly
“No one notices what the third sister, Annie, looks like, because she's blind.”Puck
“He is slow, and the sea sings to us both, but he returns to me.”Sean
“"I lost a horse today.""That sounds careless. What happened?""She jumped off a cliff.""A cliff? Is that normal?"”Sean and Mr. Holly
“My Dad used to say people's brains are hard of hearing”Puck
This book is perfect for your teenage daughter who loves myths. Although this book was written by a female author, guys could read this story too, (even though I wouldn't recommend it unless your teenage son like to read about romance too) as there are chapters that follow the male protagonist. Sean, as well as the female protagonist Puck. This book is different from her Wolves of Mercy Falls books, as romance does not play as big of a role, and there are no shape changing teens, only flesh eating water horses called capall uisce that bring bring people to their death by drowning them from highland mythology. Maggie Stiefvater has yet to make me personally board, and always makes me laugh with her sense of humor.
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