Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy

by Cassandra Clare

There were impressive stone paths and benches and even a statue of an angel that gave Simon nervous fits, since he was a Doctor Who fan. The angel wasn’t weeping, exactly, but it looked too depressed for Simon’s liking.

A DOCTOR WHO REFERENCE OMG

“We had a little bit of initial tension, as you may later recall, but that was all cleared up when you came to me and confessed that you were struggling with your feelings of intense jealousy over my—these were your words—stunning good looks and irresistible charm.” “Did I,” said Simon. Jace clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, buddy. I remember it clearly.”

Simon was still trying to work out how Shadowhunter government and also Shadowhunter family trees worked. They all seemed to be related to each other and it was very disturbing.

the way i've thought of this too

Simon rolled his eyes. Apparently, all Shadowhunter dudes were underwear models, including his new roommate. His life was a joke.

Also, I believe I was a rodent, but that was only for a little while—I don’t remember it clearly and I don’t want to discuss it.

It would be nice to have a cool roommate again, Simon thought. Like Jordan. He could not remember Jordan, his roommate when he was a vampire, all that well, but what he remembered was good.

“Do you see that man?” Isabelle asked, pointing at Simon. Apparently she was talking about him. “That’s Simon Lewis, and he is my boyfriend. So if any of you think about trying to hurt him because he’s a mundie or—may the Angel have mercy on your soul—pursuing him romantically, I will come after you, I will hunt you down, and I will crush you to powder.”

“Dean Penhallow has decided that she is not going to order fresh food supplies until all this delicious, nutritious soup has been consumed. So I am going to bury this soup in the woods,” announced Catarina Loss. “Grab the other handle.”

These Shadowhunters in training, on the other hand? Most of them probably thought manga was some kind of demonic athlete’s foot.

Sexiest is definitely Drusilla, though if you ask a girl, she’ll probably say Damon Salvatore or Edward Cullen. But . . .” He shrugged. “You know girls.”

he knows me so well

“Oh, Simon,” she said. “We were absolutely amazing.”

Ah, well. Tessa Gray, foxy nerd, was probably dating someone already.

To his children, Will showed the same love he had always shown to her, fierce and unyielding. And the same protectiveness he had only ever showed to one other person: the person James had been named after. Will’s parabatai, Jem.

“You’re such a good boy,” he said. “I often wonder how you could possibly be Will’s.”

“Agreed,” said Will. “On one condition.” “And what condition is—” Gabriel broke off with a sigh. “Ah,” he said. “Brother Zachariah.” “This monster is violent,” said Will. “We might need a healer. Someone with the power of a Silent Brother. This is a special situation.” “I cannot recall a situation you did not think was special and required his presence,” said Gabriel dryly. “You have been known to call upon Brother Zachariah for a broken toe.”

“Miss Gray looks very good for a hundred and fifty,” said George,

Which meant that Jem had lived in the Silent City for more than a hundred years, until his service was over. He had returned to life to live with his immortal love. Now that was a complicated relationship. It made a little memory loss and former vampire status seem almost normal.

Izzy—I don’t know why you would wait for me, but if you do, I promise to make myself worth that wait. Or I’ll try. I can promise I am going to try.

“Good night, Wiggles.” “Wiggles?” “Yes, Wiggles. Your nickname? It’s what you always made us call you. I almost forgot your name was Simon, I’m so used to calling you Wiggles.” “Wiggles? What does that . . . even mean?” “You would never explain,” Jace said with a shrug. “It was the big mystery about you. As I said, good night, Wiggles. I’ll take care of this.”

“Your mother says she will be brave and keep a stiff upper lip,” said Father. “Americans are heartless. I will cry into my pillow every night.”

“I am so terribly sorry,” said Dean Ashdown. “This is the first time we have ever had a warlock teacher—and we are delighted to have you! We should have thoroughly cleaned out the Academy and made sure there were no remnants of a less peaceful time.” “Thank you, Dean Ashdown,” Ragnor said. “The removal of the mounted warlock’s head from my bedroom will be sufficient.” “I am so terribly sorry!” said Dean Ashdown again. She lowered her voice. “Were you acquainted with the—er, deceased gentleman?”

this conversation???

“What—what am I?” James gasped out, his throat raw with sobs. You are James Herondale, said Uncle Jem. As you always were. Part your mother, part your father, part yourself. I would not change any part of you if I could.

Because I can see you, James. I will always look to you for light.

“Mr. Herondale, please!” said Matthew. “We cannot be parted.” James braced himself for the explanation about truth and beauty, but instead Matthew said, with devastating simplicity: “We are going to be parabatai.”

“Love, real love, is being seen. Being known. Knowing the ugliest part of someone, and loving them anyway. And . . . I guess I think two people in love become something else, something more than the sum of their parts, you know? That it must be like you’re creating a new world that exists just for the two of you. You’re gods of your own pocket universe.”

Date number three, another of my genius ideas: double date with Clary and Jace. Which maybe would have been fine, except for how Clary and Jace are more in love than any people in love in the history of love, and how I’m pretty sure they were playing footsie under the table, because there was that one time when Jace started rubbing his foot against my leg by accident. (I think by accident?) (It better have been by accident.)

“But we’re together, at least. Aline and I. That’s something. That’s everything, I suppose. I still can’t believe she agreed to marry me.”

OMG!!!!!!

He took her in his arms and kissed her—kissed her the way he’d been longing to kiss her since he first laid eyes on her, kissed her not like a romance novel hero or a Shadowhunter warrior or some imaginary character from the past, but like Simon Lewis kissing the girl he loved more than anything in the world. It was like falling into the sun, falling together, hearts blazing with pale fire, and Simon knew he would never stop falling, knew that now that he’d grabbed hold of her again, he would never let go.

George shrugged. “Apparently you’re the type who grows on people. Don’t ask me. I thought girls liked abs.” “I could have abs,” Simon told him. “I watched in the mirror once and I think I found an ab. I’m telling you, all this training is doing my body good.”

“I am no faerie,” said the boy with eerie eyes, pointed ears, and leaves in his wild hair. “I am Mark Blackthorn of the Los Angeles Institute. It doesn’t matter what they say or what they do to me. I still remember who I am. I am Mark Blackthorn.”

Then he turned and snapped: “What about the children?” “What?” Simon asked blankly. “Helen, Julian, Livia, Tiberius, Drusilla, Octavian. And Emma,” said Mark. “You see? I have not forgotten. Every night, no matter what has happened during the day, no matter if I am torn and bloodied or so bone-tired I wish I were dead, I look up at the stars and I give each star a brother’s name or a sister’s face. I will not sleep until I remember every one. The stars will burn out before I forget.”

“That’s what I need,” Simon said, with growing conviction. “I need a hero. I’m holding out for a hero, in fact, until the morning light. And she’s gotta be sure, and it’s gotta be soon—because I have been kidnapped by evil faeries—and she’s gotta be larger than life.”

Simon had only had a few encounters with Jem Carstairs, who was apparently as old as his wife, Tessa Gray. They both looked amazingly fit for 150 years. Tessa even looked pretty hot. (Maybe Jem looked hot too? As Simon had thought once before, he probably wasn’t the greatest judge of male attractiveness.) Was it weird to think people who were twice as old as your grandparents were good-looking?

There was no need to discuss it. You do not need to ask if your heart should beat, or if you should breathe. He and Clary were parabatai. All of Simon’s anger was gone. Now he knew. He had Clary, and she would have him. Forever. Their souls knit.

I am Brother Shadrach. I am here to take you to the ceremony. Please get inside. “You know,” said Simon quietly as they got into the carriage, “there was probably a time when we would have considered this creepy.”

“Where thou diest, I will die, and there will I be buried . . .” Shadowhunter rituals, always cheery.

I’ve been around for a long time,” said Magnus. “I’ve also been gorgeous for a long time.”

“Vampires are gross and dead, werewolves are gross and hairy, and faeries are treacherous and would sleep with your mom,” said Julie. “Warlocks are the sexy Downworlders.

“What . . . boy band . . . George is obsessed with?” Simon asked slowly. George looked shifty. “I don’t want to talk about it. The band’s going through some hard times lately, and it makes me too sad.”

omg me

“I wasn’t aware,” said Simon, “that there are any other girls in the world but you.”

“What’s first aid? Is there a . . . second aid?”

“We all change the world, with every day of living in it,” Magnus said. “You just have to decide how you want to change the world.

“There’s a scientific phenomenon to describe something that happens when an object is in motion. You think you know exactly what path it will take and where it will end up. Then suddenly, for no reason you can see . . . the arc changes. It goes somewhere you would never have expected.” Magnus snapped his fingers, and the coin zigzagged in the air and returned to them as Simon stared, feeling like he was seeing magic for the first time. He dropped the coin in Simon’s hand and smiled, a blazing rebel’s smile, his eyes as gold as newly discovered treasure. “It’s called the Magnus effect,” he said.

“Come on, dancing with me isn’t so bad,” George told Julie. “I may be no Magnus Bane . . .” He paused and looked over at Magnus, who had changed into a black gauze shirt with blue sequins twinkling underneath. “I definitely could not pull that off,” he added.

“It doesn’t matter if I get my memories back or not,” Simon said. “It doesn’t matter if another demon gives me amnesia tomorrow. I know you: You’ll come find me again, you’ll come rescue me no matter what happens. You’ll come for me, and I’ll discover you all over again. I love you. I love you without the memories. I love you right now.”

Magnus inclined his head, as close as he could come to a sweeping bow while holding the baby. “I am delighted to introduce you all,” he said, “to Max Lightwood.”

“I would be a much better Shadowhunter if I got to Ascend well-caffeinated.”

“Wanted to get one last look at me before I go all buff and demon-fightery?” Simon teased. “Simon, you do know that Ascending isn’t going to be like getting bitten by a radioactive spider or something, right?”

“We could also talk about Avatar: The Last Airplane, if you want.” “It’s the Airbender,” Simon said,

“I think I know what I want my Shadowhunter name to be,” he said. “Simon Lovelace,” Clary said, as always, knowing his mind as well as he did. “It has a certain ring to it.” Isabelle’s lips quirked. “A sexy ring.”