What Really Happened in Peru (The Bane Chronicles, #1)

by Cassandra Clare

“I will find you,” Ragnor told him. “I will find whatever chest of absurd clothes you have. And I will bring a llama into the place where you sleep and make sure that it urinates on everything you possess.”

“I can’t get enough adventure,” Magnus said lightly. “And adventure cannot get enough of me.”

To them, as to Magnus, time was like rain, glittering as it fell, changing the world, but something that could also be taken for granted. Until you loved a mortal. Then time became gold in a miser’s hands, every bright year counted out carefully, infinitely precious, and each one slipping through your fingers.

When people died, it felt like all the pieces of yourself you had given to them went as well. It took so long, building yourself back up until you were whole again, and you were never entirely the same.

I am the most permanent person that you will ever meet,” said Magnus, his voice breathless with laughter and his eyes stung a little by tears. “It is only that it never makes any difference.

“You told us to leave you in the desert, because you planned to start a new life as a cactus,

Wallowing was for elephants, depressing people, and depressing elephants.