“On the morning of the fourth day, Jamie tipped a switchblade out of his box of cornflakes.  “I think these promotional campaigns have really got out of hand,” he said, freezing with his hand on the milk carton. “One shiny free knife with every packet of cereal bought is not a good message to send out to the kiddies.”

“Jamie chose that moment to almost fall down the stairs. Mae took his whole weight and grabbed the banister. Seb reached out but Jamie shied away, and Nick gave Jamie a push in the chest that was clearly intended to right him, but that nearly had him toppling over backward.Balance eventually restored to them all, Jamie gave Nick an approving look."You are my friend," he told him."Yeah, I am," said Nick."But these stairs," Jamie said sadly. "They are not my friends.”

“Mae, he made me go out for a run," Jamie called out. "Tell him I don't run!" "Jamie and I are lilies of the field. We toil not, neither do we jog," Mae informed Nick.”

“Turns out he does run," Nick drawled. "Given an incentive. And he wouldn't be so out of breath if he hadn't kept shrieking.""That was not a shriek," Jamie said with dignity. "It was a husky masculine cry of terror.”

“Also," Nick added curtly, "I'm sorry about your face."Jamie looked over his shoulder, and touched the demon's mark crawling along his jaw with the back of his hand. "Sorry about saving all our lives by doing something you had to do?""Oh no," Nick said blandly, "I just meant, you know. Generally."Jamie stared at him, shocked, and laughed. It was a real laugh, helpless and sweet, and Mae memorized it in case he died. Jamie by the river at dawn, laughing.”

“I'm fine," Nick snarled, and shut his eyes. "Mae, he is not fine!" Jamie almost yelled, and Mae scrambled to her feet."Oh God," she said. "Alan's down. Alan's down.--I can't see him. I think he could be--""What?" Nick rasped.Mae looked down and saw Nick struggle up on one knee. He glared up at her and then got painfully to his feet, a knife in either hand. There was blood running down his arm, his shoulder was a mess, and his mouth was set in a grim, determined line. "Where's Alan?""Oh, Alan's fine," Mae said, nodding to where Alan was throwing himself at the magicians again. Sin was beside him now, and the rest of the Goblin Market was behind her. "I was lying so you'd get up. Sorry about that." Nick laughed, spun, and stabbed something. "Don't be sorry. I've just decided that lying's kind of sexy.”

“Sometmes when you pull knives on people, they get this impression that you're going to hurt them, and then they're completely terrified. Crazy, I know!""Okay," said Nick. He turned to Jamie & popped his left wrist sheath again. "Look."Jamie backed up. "Which part of 'completely terrified' did you translate as 'show us your knives, Nick'? Don't show me your knives, Nick. I have no interest in your knives."Nick rolled his eyes. "This is a quillon dagger. That's a knife with a sword handle. I like it because it has a good grip for stabbing.""Why do you say these things?" Jamie inquired piteously. "Is it to make me sad?""I didn't have you cornered," Nick went on. "You could've run. And this dagger doesn't have an even weight distribution; it's absolute rubbish for throwing. If I had any intention of hurting you, I'd have used a knife I could throw."Jamie blinked. "I will remember those words always. I may try to forget them, but I sense that I won't be able to.”