“Sophie, what will you do to help Josh,to save him, to bring him back?" Tsagaglalal asked."Anything. Everything." Perenelle leaned forward to place both forearms on the table. Her hands were tightly locked together, knuckles white with tension. "And Sophie, what do you think I will do to help my husband?""Anything," Sophie said again. "Everything.""We will do anything-everything-to help those we love. That is what seperates the humani from the Next Generation of the Elders or those who came before them. That is what makes us human.That is why the race thrives; it is why the race will always survive.""But that type of love requires sacrifice," Tsagaglalal said slowly. "Sometimes extraordinary sacrifices..."The old woman's gray eyes suddenly swam with huge tears. And Sophie had a flickering memory of a woman-younger, so much younger, but with the same high cheekbones and gray eyes of Tsagaglalal-turning away from a tall golden statue. The woman stopped and looked back, and Sophie discovered that the statue's bright gray eyes were alive and were following the woman. Then Tsagaglalal turned and raced down endless glass stairs. She was clutching a book in both hands: the Codex. And her tears dripped onto the metal surface.”

“But do I need to say anything?" Sophie asked. "Do I need to learn any words?""Like what?" Saint-Germain said."Well, when you lit up the Eiffel tower, you said something that sounded like eggness." "Ignis," the count said. "Latin for fire. No, you don't need to say anything." "Then why did you do it, then?" Sophie asked. Saint-Germain grinned. "I just thought it sounded cool.”

“Ten thousand years ago, her husband, Abraham the Mage, had presented her with the weapons and armor. “To keep you safe,” he said, his speech a slurred mumble. “Now and always. When you wear it, think of me.”“I’ll think of you even when I’m not wearing it,” she promised, and never a day went by when she did not think of the man who had worked so hard and sacrificed so much to make and save the world. The memory of him was vivid.Abraham stood tall and slender in a darkened room at the top of the crystal tower, the Tor Ri. He was wrapped in shadow, turned away from her so she wouldn’t see the Change that had almost completely claimed his flesh, transforming it to solid gold. She remembered turning him to the light so she could look at him for what she knew might be the very last time. Then she had held him, pressing his flesh and metal against her skin, and wept against his shoulder. And when she looked into his face, a single tear, a solid bead of gold, rolled down his cheek. Rising up on her toes, she had kissed the tear off his face, swallowing it. Tsagaglalal pressed her hands to her stomach. It nestled within her still.”

“Her hands flew to her mouth. 'Are we even twins?'Josh rested his hand on her shoulder and brought his forehead to rest against hers, strands of their blond hair mingling. 'I will always be your brother, Sophie. I will always look after you.”

“Niten drew in a deep shuddering breath and the air was suffused with the delicate odor of green tea.“And Tsagaglalal . . .”“Yes, Father?”Prometheus closed his eyes. “Tell Niten to find Aoife and ask her the question. Tell him . . . tell him she will say yes.”

“Why do you want to do this?" he asked curiously. "Why is this woman so important to you?"Saint-Germain blinked in surprise. "Have you ever loved anyone?" he asked."Yes," Tamnuz said cautiously, "I had a consort once, Inanna...""But did you love her? Truly love her?"The Green Man remained silent."Did she mean more to you than life itself?" Saint-Germain persisted."They do not love that do not show their love," Shakespeare murmured very softly.The French immortal stepped closer to the Elder. "I love my Jeanne," he said simply. "I must go to her.""Even though it will cost you everything?" Tamnuz persisted, as if the idea was incomprehensible."Yes. Without Joan, everything I have is worthless.""Even your immortality?""Especially my immortality." Gone were the banter and the jokes. This was a Saint-Germain whom neither Shakespeare nor Palamedes had ever seen before. "I love her," he said,”

“Sophie held the [hand]cuffs higher, hopint to instill some sense of shame, if not in him, then at least in herself. One look at him and she wanted him again. "I found them in the bed.""That makes sense," Phin said. "That's where I lost them.""I'd ask what you were doing with them," Sophie said, trying not to sound bitchy, "but I probably don't want to know, do I?""Sure you do. It was exciting and different and depraved." Phin nodded toward the stairs. "Go put them someplace we can find them, and I'll show you later.”