Cassandra Clare

“Let me guess, Jessie. You ran across some poor woman in the park who had the misfortune of wearing a gown that clashed with yours, so you slit her throat with that clever little parasol of yours. Do I have it right?”Jessamine bared her teeth at him. “You’re being ridiculous.”“You are, you know,” Charlotte told him.“I mean, I’m wearing blue. Blue goes with everything,” Jessamine went on. “Which, really, you ought to know. You’re vain enough about your own clothes.”“Blue does not go with everything,” Will told her. “It does not go with red, for instance.”“I have a red and blue striped waistcoat,” Henry interjected, reaching for the peas.“And if that isn’t proof that those two colors should never be seen together under Heaven, I don’t know what is.”

“I’ve gotten my Phosphor to work at last.” Henry proudly brandished the object. “It functions on the principle of witchlight but is five times more powerful. Merely press a button, and you will see a blaze of light the like of which you have never imagined.”There was a silence. “So,” said Will finally, “it’s a very, very bright witchlight, then?”“Exactly,” Henry said.“Is that useful, precisely?” Jem inquired. “After all, witchlight is just for illumination. It’s not as if it’s dangerous… .”“Wait till you see it!” Henry replied. He held up the object. “Watch.”Will moved to object, but it was too late; Henry had already pressed the button. There was a blinding flare of light and a whooshing sound, and the room was plunged into blackness. Tessa gave a yelp of surprise, and Jem laughed softly.“Am I blind?” Will’s voice floated out of the darkness, tinged with annoyance. “I’m not going to be at all pleased if you’ve blinded me, Henry.”“No.” Henry sounded worried. “No, the Phosphor seems to— Well, it seems to have turned all the lights in the room off.”“It’s not supposed to do that?” Jem sounded mild, as always.“Er,” said Henry, “no.”

“She warned me about Mr. Herondale, though, said he’d likely be rude to me, and familiar. She said I could be rude right back, that nobody would mind.”“Someone ought to be rude to him. He’s rude enough to everyone else.”

“It’s that I think Will is angry with me,” Tessa explained. “So whatever he told you—”He laughed. “Will is angry with everyone,” he said. “I don’t let it color my judgment.”

“Mr. Branwell and Mr. Carstairs seem to have no problem cleaning their boots,”Sophie said, looking darkly from Will to Tessa. “Perhaps you could learn from their example.”“Perhaps,” said Will. “But I doubt it.”Sophie scowled, and started off along the corridor again, her shoulders tightly set with indignation.Tessa looked at Will in amazement. “What was that?”Will shrugged lazily. “Sophie enjoys pretending she doesn’t like me.”“Doesn’t like you? She hates you!”

“I adore Wilkie Collins,” Tessa cried. “Oh—Armadale! And The Woman in White …Are you laughing at me?”“Not at you,” said Will, grinning, “more because of you. I’ve never seen anyone get soexcited over books before. You’d think they were diamonds.”“Well, they are, aren’t they? Isn’t there anything you love like that? And don’t say ‘spats’ or ‘lawn tennis’ or something silly.”“Good Lord,” he said with mock horror, “it’s like she knows me already.”

“Will speechless for once, a glass of water frozen halfway to his lips”

“What’s your name, then?”Tessa looked at him in disbelief. “What’s my name?”“Don’t you know it?”

“The young man who appeared at the mouth of the alley was pale inthe lamplight—paler even than he usually was, which was quite pale indeed.”

“James Carstairs! Jem! Where are you, you disloyal bastard?”

“Never trust a duck.”

“Jessamine blew out her cheeks in exasperation. "I think you ought to let me take poor Tessa into town to get some new clothes. Otherwise, the first time she takes a deep breath, that dress will fall right off her."Will looked interested. "I think she should try that out right now and see what happens.”

“Your Bracelet," she said. "Acheronta movebo.' It doesn't mean 'Thus always to tyrants.' That's 'sic semper tyrannis.' This is from Virgil. 'Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.' If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell.”

“Therefore you can never lose hope-hatikva-because if you keep hope alive, it will keep you alive.”

“When you told me the first time that Valentine was your father, I didn't believe it. Not just because I didn't want it to be true, but because you weren't anything like him. I've never thought you're anything like him. But you are. You are.”

“You're a disaster for us, Clary! You're a mundane, you'll always be one, you'll never be a Shadowhunter! You don't know how to think like we do, think about what's best for everyone-- all you think about is yourself! But there's a war now, or there will be, and I don't have time or the inclination to follow around after you, trying to make sure you don't get us killed! Go home, Clary. Go home!”

“But you have to learn to bend a little,” said Clary with a yawn. Despite the story’s content, the rhythm of Jace’s voice had made her sleepy. “Or you’ll break.” “Not if you're strong enough,” said Jace firmly.”

“She looked up from closing it to find Jace watching her through hooded eyes. “And one last thing,” he said. He reached over and pulled the sparking pins out of her hair, so that it fell in warm heavy curls down her neck. The sensation of hair tickling her bare skin was unfamiliar and oddly pleasant. “Much better,” he said, and she thought this time that maybe his voice was uneven too.”

“Will is… difficult,” Jem said. “But family is difficult. If I didn’t think the Institute was the best place for you, Tessa, I wouldn’t say it was. And one can build one’s own family. I know you feel inhuman, and as if you were set apart, away from life and love, but…” His voice cracked a little, the first time Tessa had heard him sound unsure. He cleared his throat. “I promise you, the right man won’t care.”

“Of course he loves me. I’m his sister.”“Blood isn’t love,” said Magnus, and his voice was bitter.”

“He had lost Will Herondale. And he did not know if he could ever get him back.”

“He made it very clear that he didn’t want me here,” she said at last. “That my remaining at the Institute is not the happy chance I thought it was. Not in his view.” “And after I just finished telling you why you should consider him family,” Jem said, a bit ruefully. “No wonder you looked as if I’d just told you something awful just happened.” “I’m sorry,” Tessa whispered. “Don’t be. It’s Will who ought to be sorry.” Jem’s eyes darkened. “We shall throw him out onto the streets,” he proclaimed. “I promise you he’ll be gone by morning.” Tessa started and sat upright. “Oh – no, you can’t mean that─” He grinned. “Of course I don’t. But you did feel better for a moment there, didn’t you?”

“Should we leave now?” “I need to finish my tea first,” Jem said. “Anyway, I don’t see what you’re so fired up about. You said the place hadn’t been used as a brothel in ages?” “I want to be back before dark,” Will said. He was leaning nearly across Tessa’s lap, and she could smell that faint boy-smell of leather and metal that seemed to cling to his hair and skin. “I have an assignation in Soho this evening with a certain attractive someone.” “Goodness,” Tessa said to the back of his head. “If you keep seeing Six-Fingered Nigel like this, he’ll expect you to declare your intentions.” Jem choked on his tea.”

“Jem grinned. “Where have you been? The Blue Dragon? The Mermaid?” “The Devil Tavern if you must know.” Will sighed and leaned against one of the posts of the bed. “I had such plans for the evening. The pursuit of blind drunkenness and wayward women was my goal. But alas, it was not to be. No sooner had I consumed my third drink in the Devil than I was accosted by a delightful small flower-selling child who asked me for two-pence for a daisy. The price seemed steep, so I refused. When I told the girl as much, she proceeded to rob me.” “A little girl robbed you?” Tessa said. “Actually, she wasn’t a little girl at all, as it turns out, but a midget in a dress who goes by the name of Six-Fingered Nigel.” “Easy mistake to make,” Jem said.”

“Jem gave her a wistful look. “Must you go? I was rather hoping that you’d stay and be a ministering angel, but if you must go, you must.” “I’ll stay,” Will said a bit crossly, and threw himself down in the armchair Tessa had just vacated. “I can minister angelically.” “None too convincingly. And you’re not as pretty to look at as Tessa is,” Jem said, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the pillow. “How rude. Many who have gazed upon me have compared it to gazing at the radiance of the sun.” Jem still had his eyes closed. “If they mean that it gives you a headache, they aren’t wrong.”

“Will tossed the bloody cloth aside. “And you wonder why we aren’t friends.” “I just wondered,” Gabriel said, in more subdued voice, “if perhaps you have ever had enough.” “Enough of what?” “Enough of behaving as you do.” Will crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes glistening dangerously. “Oh, I can never get enough,” he said. “Which, incidentally, is what your sister said to me when─” The carriage door flew open. A hand shot out, grabbed Will by the back of his shirt, and hauled him inside.”

“Nice work in there, Herondale, setting the place on fire,” Gabriel observed. “Good thing we were there to clean up after you, or the whole plan would have gone down in flames, along with the shreds of your reputation.” “Are you implying that shreds of my reputation remain intact?” Will demanded with mock horror. “Clearly I have done something wrong. Or not doing something wrong as the case may be.” He banged on the side of the carriage. “Thomas! We must away at once to the nearest brothel! I seek scandal and low companionship.”

“Being a vampire is not a curse. It’s a disease,” Tessa filled in. “But they still can’t enter hallowed ground, then? Does that mean they’re damned?” “That depends on what you believe,” said Jem. “And whether you believe in damnation at all.” “But you hunt demons. You must believe in damnation!” “I believe in good and evil,” said Jem. “And I believe the soul is eternal. I don’t believe in the fiery pit, the pitchforks, or the endless torment. I do not believe you can threaten people into goodness.”

“Pulvis et umbra sumus. It's a line from Horace. 'We are dust and shadows'. Appropriate, don't you think?" Will said. "It's not a long life, killing demons; one tends to die young, and then they burn your body - dust to dust, in the literal sense. And then we vanish into the shadows of history, nary a mark on the page of a mundane book to remind the world that once we existed at all.”

“Will's face turned grave. "Be careful with it, though. It's six hundred years old and the only copy of its kind. Losing or damaging it is punishable by death under the Law."Tessa thrust the book away from her as if it were on fire. "You can't be serious.""You're right. I'm not." Will leapt down from the ladder and landed lightly in front of her. "You do believe everything I say, though, don't you? Do I seem unusually trustworthy to you, or are you just a naive sort?”

“Oh, do you have A Tale of Two Cities?""That silly thing? Men going around getting their heads chopped off for love? Ridiculus." Will unpeeled himself from the door and made his way toward Tessa where she stood by the bookshelves. He gestured expansively at the vast number of volumes all around him. "No, here you'll find all sorts of advice about how to chop off someone else's head if you need to; much more useful.”

“The Sisters vanished entirely then, and Aunt Harriet was standing over Tessa, her face flushed with fever as it had been during the terrible illness that had killed her. She looked at Tessa with great sadness. "I tried," she said. "I tried to love you. But it isn't easy to love a child that isn't human in the least....""Not human?" said an unfamiliar female voice. "Well, if she isn't human, Enoch, what is she?" The voice sharpened in impatience. "What do you mean, you don't know? Everyone's something. This girl can't be nothing at all....”

“Such a fuss ofer a few mundanes." Mrs Dark chuckled and moved to stand beside her sister, so that Will, with his blazing sword, was between Tessa and both ladies. "We have no quarrel with you, Shadowhunter, unless you choose to pick one. You have invaded our territory and broken the Covenant Law in doing so. We could report you to the Clave-""While the Clave disapproves of trespassers, oddly, they take an even darker view of beheading and skinning people. They're peculiar that way," Will said”

“The moment his hand closed about the stone, light blazed from it again, raying out through his fingers. For the first time Tessa saw that he had a design on the back of his hand, drawn there as if in black ink. It looked like an open eye. "As for the temperature of Hell, Miss Gray," he said, "let me give you a piece of advice. The handsome young fellow who's trying to rescue you from a hideous fate it never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs.”

“I've mastered many thing's in my life. Navigating the streets of London, dancing the quadrille, the Japanese art of flower arranging, lying at charades, concealing a highly intoxicated state, delighting young women with my charms..."Tessa stared."Alas," he went on, "no one has ever actually referred to me as 'the master' or 'the magister', either. More's the pity...""Are you highly intoxicated at the moment?”

“He seemed to realize she was staring at him, because the cursing stopped. "You cut me," he said. His voice was pleasant. British. Very ordinary. He looked at his hand with critcal interest. "It might be fatal." Tessa looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you the Magister?" He tilted his hand to the side. Blood ran down it, spattering the floor. "Dear me, massive blood loss. Death could be imminent.”

“I'll walk you back, Jace said. "As for Simon, he can manage his own way back in the dark-can't you Simon?""Of course he can, Alec said indignantly, as if eager to make up for his earlier slighting of Simon. "He's a vampire-and," he added, "I just realized that you were probably joking. Never mind me.”

“She knew how breakups went from hearing other girls complain about them. First the pulling away, the gradual refusal to return notes or phone calls. The vague messages saying nothing was wrong, that the other person just needed a little space. Then the speech about how "It's not you, it's me." Then the crying part.She'd never thought any of that would apply to her and Jace. What they had wasn't ordinary, or subject to the ordinary rules of relationships and breakups. They belonged to each other totally, and always will, and that was that.But maybe everyone felt that way? Until the moment they realized they were just like everyone else, and everyone they'd thought was real shattered apart.”

“Simon sighed. "People aren't born good or bad. Maybe they're born with tendencies either way, but It's the way you live your life that matters.”

“Well, you'll have to wait till tomorrow. I'm out of commission." (he points to his shirt) "Look. Jammies.”

“Who ever said the world was fair?”

“All my life I've felt like there was something wrong with me. Something missing or damaged.""Every teenager in the world feels like that, feels broken or out of place, different somehow, royalty mistakenly born into a family of peasants.”

“How easy it was to lose everything you had always thought you'd have forever.”

“She hated that little voice inside her head. Like the Seelie Queen, it planted doubts where there shouldn't be doubts, asked questions that had no answer.”

“How she still thought of Max every day and it was like someone had emptied her lungs of air, and she would catch at her heart, afraid she was dying.”

“Do you remember what I told you that first time at Taki's? About faerie food?""I remember you said you ran down Madison Avenue naked with antlers on your head", said Clary, blinking silver drops off her lashes.”

“Get over here. Sheldon's had an idea.""Who's Sheldon?", said Isabelle.”

“Magnus's eyes went back to Alec. They were gold-green, as unreadable as the eyes of the cat he held on his lap. "Not my favorite topic, Smedley.""Simon", said Simon. "If I'm going to die for you all, the least you could do is remember my name.”

“I have a feeling you're right, Sherwin.''Simon. My name is Simon.”

“He will get through this, even if he thinks he won't.”