Cassandra Clare

“Great,” Simon said. “Maybe I’ll even make it back before my mother notices I’m gone. What’s the time difference between here and Manhattan?”“You have a mother?” Aline looked amazed.”

“Do you think…"He raised his eyebrows. "Do I think what?""That Valentine might have drowned?""Never believe the bad guy is dead until you see a body," said Simon. "That just leads to unhappiness and surprise ambushes.”

“Your father," Luke said, "what did he say to you when you saw him? What did he promise you?""Oh, you know. The usual. A lifetime's supply of Knicks tickets.”

“Now this is really going to impress Valentine.""I don't know," Clary said. "Other crack teams get bat boomerangs and wall-crawling powers; we get the Aquatruck.""If you don't like it, Nephilim," came Magnus's voice, faintly, from the truck cab, "you're welcome to see if you can walk on the water.”

“You can close your eyes and think of England, if you like.""I've never even been to England," she said, but she shut her eyelids. She could feel the dank heaviness of her clothes, cold and itchy against her skin, and the cloying sweet air of the cave, colder yet, and the weight of Jace's hands on her shoulders, the only things that were warm. And then he kissed her.She felt the brush of his lips, light at first, and her own opened automatically beneath the pressure. Almost against her will she felt herself go fluid and pliant, stretching upward to twine her arms around his neck the way that a sunflower twists toward light. His arms slid around her, his hands knotting in her hair, and the kiss stopped being gentle and became fierce, all in a single moment like tinder flaring into a blaze.”

“Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the Angel's sake. Look, if there's no other way of getting out of this, I'll kiss Simon. I've done it before, it wasn't that bad.""Thanks," said Simon. "That's very flattering.""Well, I'm not kissing the mundane," said Jace. "I'd rather stay down here and rot.""Forever?" said Simon. "Forever's an awfully long time."Jace raised his eyebrows. "I knew it," he said. "You want to kiss me, don't you?"Simon threw up his hands in exasperation. "Of course not. But if—""I guess it's true what they say," observed Jace. "There are no straight men in the trenches.""That's atheists, jackass," said Simon furiously. "There are no atheists in the trenches.”

“I forgot," Isabelle muttered as the rest of them caught up to her. "Faeries have no sense of humor.""Oh, I wouldn't say that," said Jace. "There's a pixie nightclub downtown called Hot Wings. Not," he added, "that I have ever been there.”

“Meliorn looked impassive. "Mundane humans are not permitted in the Court.""I wish someone had mentioned that earlier," said Simon, to no one in particular. "I take it I'm just supposed to wait out here until vines start growing on me?"Meliorn considered. "That might offer significant amusement.”

“Oooh, that was fun.""That does it," said Jace. "I'm going to get you a dictionary for Christmas this year.""Why?" Isabelle said."So you can look up 'fun.' I'm not sure you know what it means."Isabelle pulled the long heavy mass of her wet hair forward and wrung it out as if it were wet washing. "You're raining on my parade.""It's a pretty wet parade already, if you hadn't noticed." Jace glanced around.”

“Look on the bright side," said Simon. "If they need a human sacrifice, you can always offer me. I'm not sure the rest of you qualify anyway."Jace brightened. "It's always nice when someone volunteers to be the first up against the wall.”

“Izzy," said Jace, as they neared the pond, and she jumped up and spun around. Her smile was dazzling."Jace!" She flew at him and hugged him. Now that was the way sisters were supposed to act, Clary thought. Not all stiff and weird and peculiar, but happy and loving. Watching Jace hug Isabelle, she tried to school her features into a happy and loving expression."Are you all right?" Simon asked, with some concern. "Your eyes are crossing.""I'm fine." Clary abandoned the attempt."Are you sure? You looked sort of… contorted.”

“Alec flushed. "I think it's more important for you to go than me. You're Valentine's son, I'm sure you're the one the Queen really wants to see. Besides, you're charming."Jace glared at him."Maybe not at the moment," Alec amended. "But you're usually charming. And faeries are very susceptible to charm.""Plus, if you stay here, I've got the whole first season of Gilligan's Island on DVD," Magnus said."No one could turn that down," said Jace. He still wouldn't look at Clary.”

“Isabelle says the Queen of the Seelie Court has requested an audience with us.""Sure," said Magnus. "And Madonna wants me as a backup dancer on her next world tour."Alec looked puzzled. "Who's Madonna?""Who's the Queen of the Seelie Court?" said Clary."She is the Queen of Faerie," said Magnus. "Well, the local one, anyway."Jace put his head in his hands. "Tell Isabelle no.""But she thinks it's a good idea," Alec protested."Then tell her no twice."Alec frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?""Oh, just that some of Isabelle's ideas are world-beaters and some are total disasters. Remember that idea she had about using abandoned subway tunnels to get around under the city? Talk about giant rats—""Let's not," said Simon. "I'd rather not talk about rats at all, in fact.”

“You're a Shadowhunter," he said. "You know how to deal with injuries." He slid his stele across the table toward her. "Use it.""No," Clary said, and pushed the stele back across the table at him.Jace slammed his hand down on the stele. "Clary—""She said she doesn't want it," said Simon. "Ha-ha.""Ha-ha?" Jace looked incredulous. "That's your comeback?"Alec, folding his phone, approached the table with a puzzled look. "What's going on?""We seem to be trapped in an episode of One Life to Waste," Magnus observed. "It's all very dull.”

“Magnus stood up and went to the window. He pushed the curtain back, letting in just enough light to silhouette his hawklike profile. "Blood," he said, half to himself. "I had a dream two nights ago. I saw a city all of blood, with towers made of bone, and blood ran in the streets like water."Simon slewed his eyes over to Jace. "Is standing by the window muttering about blood something he does all the time?""No," said Jace, "sometimes he sits on the couch and does it.”

“That seems like stealing, doesn't it?" Simon pulled a cup toward him. He drew the lid back. "Ooh. Mochaccino." He looked at Magnus. "Did you pay for these?""Sure," said Magnus, while Jace and Alec snickered. "I make dollar bills magically appear in their cash register.""Really?""No." Magnus popped the lid off his own coffee. "But you can pretend I did if it makes you feel better. So, first order of business is what?”

“You want a round table meeting, we can have a round table meeting.""I love round tables," said Magnus brightly. "They suit me so much better than square.”

“What's on?" Magnus inquired."What Not to Wear," came a familiar drawling voice, emanating from a sprawled figure in one of the armchairs. He sat forward and for a moment Clary thought Jace might get up and greet them. Instead, he shook his head at the screen. "High-waisted khaki pants? Who wears those?" He turned and glared at Magnus. "Nearly unlimited supernatural power," he said, "and all you do is use it to watch reruns. What a waste.""Also, TiVo accomplishes much the same thing," pointed out Simon."My way is cheaper." Magnus clapped his hands together and the room was suddenly flooded with light. Jace, slumped in the chair, raised an arm to cover his face. "Can you do that without magic?""Actually," said Simon, "yes. If you watched infomercials, you'd know that.”

“For the first time Valentine glanced down at the body of Brother Jeremiah. "I did kill him, and the rest of the Silent Brothers as well. I had to. They had something I needed.""What? A sense of decency?”

“I didn't know you were bringing the mundane." His blue eyes flicked uneasily over Simon."That's what I like about you people," said Simon. "You always make me feel so welcome.”

“The Inquisitor stared at him as if he were a talking cockroach. "Do you know about the cuckoo bird, Jonathan Morgenstern?"Jace wondered if perhaps being the Inquisitor—it couldn't be a pleasant job—had left Imogen Herondale a little unhinged."The cuckoo bird," she said. "You see, cuckoos are parasites. They lay their eggs in other birds' nests. When the egg hatches, the baby cuckoo pushes the other baby birds out of the nest. The poor parent birds work themselves to death trying to find enough food to feed the enormous cuckoo child who has murdered their babies and taken their places.""Enormous?" said Jace. "Did you just call me fat?""It was an analogy.""I am not fat.”

“However, there is something you should have. Something every Shadowhunter should have.""An obnoxious, arrogant attitude?" Simon said.”

“Thank you, Simon, I appreciate that." Luke opened the pizza box and, finding it empty, shut it with a sigh. "Though you did eat all the pizza.""I only had five slices," Simon protested, leaning his chair backward so it balanced precariously on its two back legs."How many slices did you think were in a pizza, dork?" Clary wanted to know."Less than five slices isn't a meal. It's a snack." Simon looked apprehensively at Luke. "Does this mean you're going to wolf out and eat me?""Certainly not." Luke rose to toss the pizza box into the trash. "You would be stringy and hard to digest.""But kosher," Simon pointed out cheerfully."I'll be sure to point any Jewish lycanthropes your way." Luke leaned his back against the sink.”

“Oh, come on, Jace," Clary said. "You can't wait for perfect behavior from everyone. Adults screw up too. Go back to the Institute and talk to her rationally. Be a man.""I don't want to be a man," said Jace. "I want to be an angst-ridden teenager who can't confront his own inner demons and takes it out verbally on other people instead.""Well," said Luke, "you're doing a fantastic job.”

“He's not in a very good mood," said Luke, pausing in front of a closed door. "I shut him up in Freaky Pete's office after he nearly killed half my pack with his bare hands. He wouldn't talk to me, so"—Luke shrugged—"I thought of you." He looked from Clary's baffled face to Simon's. "What?""I can't believe he came here," Clary said."I can't believe you know someone named Freaky Pete," said Simon."I know a lot of people," said Luke. "Not that Freaky Pete is strictly people, but I'm hardly one to talk.”

“More chibis," said Simon gloomily. All the characters on-screen had turned into inch-high baby versions of themselves and were chasing each other around waving pots and pans. "I'm changing the channel," Simon announced, seizing the remote. "I'm tired of this anime. I can't tell what the plot is and no one ever has sex.""Of course they don't," Clary said, taking another chip. "Anime is wholesome family entertainment.""If you're in the mood for less wholesome entertainment, we could try the porn channels," Simon observed. "Would you rather watch The Witches of Breastwick or As I Lay Dianne?”

“Rule number one of anime," Simon said. He sat propped up against a pile of pillows at the foot of his bed, a bag of potato chips in one hand and the TV remote in the other. He was wearing a black T-shirt that said I BLOGGED YOUR MOM and a pair of jeans with a hole ripped in one knee. "Never screw with a blind monk.""I know," Clary said, taking a potato chip and dunking it into the can of dip balanced on the TV tray between them. "For some reason they're always way better fighters than monks who can see." She peered at the screen. "Are those guys dancing?""That's not dancing. They're trying to kill each other. This is the guy who's the mortal enemy of the other guy, remember? He killed his dad. Why would they be dancing?”

“Well, at least you know it works this time," she said, getting on behind him. "If we crash into the parking lot of a Key Food, I'll kill you, you know that?""Don't be ridiculous," said Jace. "There are no parking lots on the Upper East Side. Why drive when you can get your groceries delivered?”

“Let me guess," said Clary. "On the inside it's an abandoned police station; from the outside, mundanes only see a condemned apartment building, or a vacant lot, or…""Actually it looks like a Chinese restaurant from the outside," Luke said. "Takeout only, no table service.""A Chinese restaurant?" Clary echoed in disbelief.He shrugged. "Well, we are in Chinatown. This was the Second Precinct building once.""People must think it's weird that there's no phone number to call for orders."Luke grinned. "There is. We just don't answer it much. Sometimes, if they're bored, some of the cubs will deliver someone some mu shu pork.""You're kidding.""Not at all. The tips come in handy.”

“Clary wasn't sure what she'd expected -exclamations of delight, perhaps a smattering of applause. Instead there was silence, broken only when Jace said, "Somehow, I thought it would be bigger."Clary looked at the Cup in her hand. It was the size, perhaps, of an ordinary wineglass, only much heavier. Power thrummed through it, like blood through living veins. "It's a perfectly nice size," she said indignantly."Oh, it's big enough," he said patronizingly, "but somehow I was expecting something… you know." He gestured with his hands, indicating something roughly the size of a house cat."It's the Mortal Cup, Jace, not the Mortal Toilet Bowl," said Isabelle.”

“What would you know about it?" he said. "Love, I mean."Dorothea folded her soft white hands in her lap. "More than you might think," she said. "Didn't I read your tea leaves, Shadowhunter? Have you fallen in love with the wrong person yet?"Jace said, "Unfortunately, Lady of the Haven, my one true love remains myself."Dorothea roared at that. "At least," she said, "you don't have to worry about rejection, Jace Wayland.""Not necessarily. I turn myself down occasionally, just to keep it interesting.”

“You know," Clary said, "most psychologists agree that hostility is really just sublimated sexual attraction.""Ah," said Jace blithely, "that might explain why I so often run into people who seem to dislike me.”

“She had imagined Jace leaping from the bed in astonishment and gasping something like "Egad!" This didn't happen-largely, she suspected, because Jace had seen much stranger things in his life, and also because nobody used the word "Egad!" anymore. His eyes widened, though.”

“Well, thanks. It was nice of you to give me anything." The tension between them seemed to press down on her like humid air. "Better than a bath in spaghetti any day."He said darkly, "If you share that little bit of personal information with anyone, I may have to kill you.""Well, when I was five, I wanted my mother to let me go around and around inside the dryer with the clothes," Clary said. "The difference is, she didn't let me.""Probably because going around and around inside a dryer can be fatal," Jace pointed out, "whereas pasta is rarely fatal. Unless Isabelle makes it.”

“Clary grinned. "A picnic? It's a little late for Central Park, don't you think? It's full of-"He waved a hand. "Faeries. I know.""I was going to say muggers," said Clary. "Though I pity the mugger who goes after you.""That is a wise attitude, and I commend you for it," said Jace, looking gratified.”

“Hodge says he's on his way and he hopes you can both manage to cling to your flickering sparks of life until he gets here," she told Simon and Jace. "Or something like that.""I wish he'd hurry," Jace said crossly. He was sitting up in bed against a pair of fluffed white pillows, still wearing his filthy clothes."Why? Does it hurt?" Clary asked."No. I have a high pain threshold. In fact, it's less of a threshold and more of a large and tastefully decorated foyer. But I do get easily bored." He squinted at her. "Do you remember back at the hotel when you promised that if we lived, you'd get dressed up in a nurse's outfit and give me a sponge bath?""Actually, I think you misheard," Clary said. "It was Simon who promised you the sponge bath."Jace looked involuntarily over at Simon, who smiled at him widely. "As soon as I'm back on my feet, handsome.”

“I guess we'd better move the trash. We can start with the Dumpster." He pointed at it, looking distinctly unenthusiastic."You'd rather face a ravening horde of demons, wouldn't you?" Clary said."At least they wouldn't be crawling with maggots. Well," he added thoughtfully, "not most of them, anyway. There was this one demon, once, that I tracked down to the sewers under Grand Central—""Don't." Clary raised a warning hand. "I'm not really in the mood right now.""That's got to be the first time a girl's ever said that to me," Jace mused."Stick with me and it won't be the last."The corner of Jace's mouth twitched. "This is hardly the time for idle banter. We have garbage to haul.”

“But how do they get inside?""They fly," Jace said, and indicated the upper floors of the building.[...]"We don't fly," Clary felt impelled to point out."No," Jace agreed. "We don't fly. We break and enter." He started across the street toward the hotel."Flying sounds like more fun," Clary said, hurrying to catch up with him."Right now everything sounds like more fun.”

“It's Simon. He's missing.""Ah," said Magnus, delicately, "missing what, exactly?""Missing," Jace repeated, "as in gone, absent, notable for his lack of presence, disappeared.""Maybe he's gone and hidden under something," Magnus suggested. "It can't be easy getting used to being a rat, especially for someone so dim-witted in the first place.""Simon's not dim-witted," Clary protested angrily."It's true," Jace agreed. "He just looks dim-witted. Really his intelligence is quite average.”

“This time Magnus answered it, his voice booming through the tiny entryway. "WHO DARES DISTURB MY REST?"Jace looked almost nervous. "Jace Wayland. Remember? I'm from the Clave.""Oh, yes." Magnus seemed to have perked up. "Are you the one with the blue eyes?""He means Alec," Clary said helpfully."No. My eyes are usually described as golden," Jace told the intercom. "And luminous.""Oh, you're that one." Magnus sounded disappointed. If Clary hadn't been so upset, she would have laughed. "I suppose you'd better come up.”

“Hey, pretty thing," he said. "What's in the bag?""Holy water," said Jace, reappearing beside her as if he'd been conjured up like a genie. A sarcastic blond genie with a bad attitude."Oooh, a Shadowhunter," said the vampire. "Scary." With a wink he melted back into the crowd."Vampires are such prima donnas," Magnus sighed from the doorway. "Honestly, I don't know why I have these parties.""Because of your cat," Clary reminded him.Magnus perked up. "That's true. Chairman Meow deserves my every effort.”

“She unwrapped the blanket when she came in my door. You were inside it. She set you down on the floor and you started ranging around, picking things up, pulling my cat's tail—you screamed like a banshee when the cat scratched you, so I asked your mother if you were part banshee. She didn't laugh.”

“Isabelle took out her invitation and waved it like a white flag. "I have an invitation. These"—she indicated the rest of the group with a grand wave of her arm—"are my friends."Magnus plucked the invitation out of her hand and looked at it with fastidious distaste. "I must have been drunk," he said. He threw the door open. "Come in. And try not to murder any of my guests."Jace edged into the doorway, sizing up Magnus with his eyes. "Even if one of them spills a drink on my new shoes?""Even then." Magnus's hand shot out, so fast it was barely a blur. He plucked the stele out of Jace's hand—Clary hadn't even realized he was holding it—and held it up. Jace looked faintly abashed. "As for this," Magnus said, sliding it into Jace's jeans pocket, "keep it in your pants, Shadowhunter.”

“Wait." Isabelle suddenly sat up straight. "What did you say that name was?" she demanded, turning to Jace. "The name in Clary's head.""I didn't," said Jace. "At least, I didn't finish it. It's Magnus Bane." He grinned at Alec mockingly. "Rhymes with 'overcareful pain in the ass.'"Alec muttered a retort into his coffee. It rhymed with something that sounded a lot more like "ducking glass mole." Clary smiled inwardly.”

“Lost in thought, it took her several moments to realize that Jace had been saying something to her. When she blinked at him, she saw a wry grin spread across his face. "What?" she asked, ungraciously."I wish you'd stop desperately trying to get my attention like this," he said. "It's become embarrassing.""Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt," she told him."I can't help it. I use my rapier wit to hide my inner pain.""Your pain will be outer soon if you don't get out of traffic. Are you trying to get run over by a cab?""Don't be ridiculous," he said. "We could never get a cab that easily in this neighborhood.”

“Dinnertime!" It was Isabelle, standing framed in the door of the library. She still had the spoon in her hand, though her hair had escaped from its bun and was straggling down her neck. "Sorry if I'm interrupting," she added, as an afterthought."Dear God," said Jace, "the dread hour is nigh."Hodge looked alarmed. "I—I—I had a very filling breakfast," he stammered. "I mean lunch. A filling lunch. I couldn't possibly eat—""I threw out the soup," Isabelle said. "And ordered Chinese from that place downtown."Jace unhitched himself from the desk and stretched. "Great. I'm starved.""I might be able to eat a bite," admitted Hodge meekly.”

“All right. Are you going to come back? Do you want any soup?""No," said Jace."Do you think Hodge will want any soup?""No one wants any soup.""I want some soup," Simon said."No, you don't," said Jace. "You just want to sleep with Isabelle."Simon was appalled. "That is not true.""How flattering," Isabelle murmured into the soup, but she was smirking."Oh, yes it is," said Jace. "Go ahead and ask her—then she can turn you down and the rest of us can get on with our lives while you fester in miserable humiliation." He snapped his fingers. "Hurry up, mundie boy, we've got work to do.”

“Just because you said dragon demons were extinct—""I said mostly extinct."Alec jabbed a finger toward him."Mostly extinct," he said, his voice trembling with rage, "is NOTEXTINCT ENOUGH.""I see," said Jace. "I'll just have them change the entry in the demonology textbook from 'almost extinct' to 'not extinct enough for Alec. He prefers his monsters really, really extinct.' Will that make you happy?”

“When Jace opened the greenhouse door, the scent hit Clary, soft as the padded blow of a cat's paw...”

“Oh, you know. Jace reminds me of an old boyfriend. Some guys look at you like they want sex. Jace looks at you like you've already had sex, it was great, and now you're just friends--even though you want more. Drives girls crazy. You know what I mean?" Yes, Clary thought. "No," she said.pg. 280”