“Chimes?" Phyllis asked. "Chimes to call a lover? Chimes with the voice of a bird trapped in them? Chimes that play you whatever song you most desire to hear?" "No thanks," said Nick. "We've got MTV.”
“There were stalls nestled around the castle the way the lights were, not in rows but in odd spots, as if the stalls had grown there or alighted on random places like birds. There was one stall with ringing chimes that was set halfway up a ruined wall, so the customers had to climb sliding pieces of slate to get to it. There were more stalls set in the grassy hollows among the stones and nestled into the corners of the walls. One woman had actually turned a ruined wall into her stall, brightly colored jars arranged on the jagged, protruding shards of stone.All through the fragments of a lost castle lit by magic moved the people of the Goblin Market. There was a man hanging up knives alongside wind chimes, which made dangerous and beautiful music as they rang together in the sea breeze. There was a boy who looked about twelve stirring something in a cauldron with a rich-smelling cloud handing over it, and bark cups ranged along his stall.”
“I-" said Nick, his voice halting. "I don't mind it as much when - when people touch me. Some people."Mae looked down, and Nick, who looked more relaxed when he'd been stabbed, slowly lifted his hand from his chest and laid it on the tumbled sheets between them, fingers half-curled into his palm. He was still regarding the ceiling with a fixed glare."Because you trust them not to hurt you?" Mae asked tentatively."No," Nick said, his voice harsh. "Because I'd let them hurt me.”
“And what are your interests and hobbies, Nicholas?" Annabel asked faintly, sounding like a cross between a television interviewer and a hostage. Nick considered this for a minute, and then said "I like swords." Annabel leaned over her plate and asked, her voice changing "You fence?" "Not exactly," Nick drawled. "I'm more freestyle.”
“Oh, you need Alan to betray Nick and then you'll steal Nick's powers and kill them both," said Mae. "Great idea. Hey, can i come? I'll bring a picnic lunch if you promise not to let blood get on the sandwiches.”
“I don't really dance for pleasure much.""Uh--so you, uh, usually dance professionally, or what?" Seb asked."Yeah," said Nick. "The ballet is my passion.”
“I've changed my mind," said Nick. "The demons can have you.”