City of Bones (The Mortal Instruments, #1)

by Cassandra Clare

I want to know what a Magnus Bane is.” “It’s not a what. It’s a who,” said Jace. “It’s a name.” “Do you know who he is?” “He’s a warlock,” said Jace in his most reasonable voice. “Only a warlock could have put a block in your mind like that. Or maybe one of the Silent Brothers, but clearly it wasn’t them.”

“I could really go for some fried mouse tails.” “Some what?” asked Clary, sure that she’d heard wrong. Jace grinned at her. “Relax,” he said. “It’s just a diner.”

an ifrit,” Jace explained. “They’re warlocks with no magic. Half demons who can’t cast spells for whatever reason.”

“Don’t order any of the faerie food,” said Jace, looking at her over the top of his menu. “It tends to make humans a little crazy. One minute you’re munching a faerie plum, the next minute you’re running naked down Madison Avenue with antlers on your head. Not,” he added hastily, “that this has ever happened to me.”

Riiight

Jace couldn’t be an easy person to care about. I was laughing at you because declarations of love amuse me, especially when unrequited.

“Investigation?” Isabelle laughed. “Now we’re detectives? Maybe we should all have code names.” “Good idea,” said Jace. “I shall be Hotschaft Von Hugenstein.” Alec spit his water back into his glass.

“This whole Downworlder thing. You don’t hunt them, because they aren’t exactly demons, but they’re not exactly people, either. Vampires kill, they drink blood—” “Vampires are allowed to feed on humans, but they aren’t allowed to kill them,” interjected Alec. “When they do, we hunt them down.”

“And werewolves are what? Just overgrown puppies?”

“So they’re good enough to let live, good enough to make your food for you, good enough to flirt with—but not really good enough? I mean, not as good as people.” Isabelle and Alec looked at her as if she were speaking Urdu. “Different from people,” said Alec finally. “Better than mundanes?” said Simon. “No,” Isabelle said decidedly.

“You could turn a mundane into a Shadowhunter. I mean, we came from mundanes. But you could never turn a Downworlder into one of the Clave. They can’t withstand the runes.”

Magnus Bane is the High Warlock of Brooklyn.”

Why would a powerful warlock have put it there, and to what purpose? She wondered what memories she might have lost, what experiences she’d had that she couldn’t now recall. Or maybe everything she thought she did remember was a lie…?

The boy was good-looking, with hair so fair it was nearly white, and black eyes. “That’s Valentine,” said a voice at her elbow. “When he was seventeen.”

“Is this, like, a class photo?” Clary asked. “Not quite. This is a picture of the Circle, taken in the year it was formed. That’s why Valentine, the leader, is in the front, and Luke is on his right side—he was Valentine’s second in command.”

“The Accords have never had the support of the whole Clave. The more venerable families, especially, cling to the old times, when Downworlders were for killing.

“But he loved my mother,” said Clary. “Yes,” said Hodge. “He loved your mother. And he loved Idris….” “What was so great about Idris?” Clary asked, hearing the grumpiness in her own voice. “It was,” Hodge began, and corrected himself, “it is, home—for the Nephilim,

“There is some concern that the Institute is being watched by Valentine. The less he knows, the better.”

“Well, because—it’s like a diary. Except I don’t think in words, I think in pictures, so it’s all drawings. But it’s still private.”

“Once there was a boy,” said Jace. Clary interrupted immediately. “A Shadowhunter boy?” “Of course.”

love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed.”

“Here, you can wear these with it. They’ll make you look taller.” “Right, because I’m flat-chested and a midget.”

“Is Alec gay?” Isabelle’s wrist jerked. The eyeliner skidded, inking a long line of black from the corner of Clary’s eye to her hairline. “Oh, hell,” Isabelle said, putting the pen down.

“How did you guess?” she said finally. “I—” “You absolutely can’t tell anyone,” said Isabelle. “Not even Jace?” “Especially not Jace!”

Alec is gay and loves Jace mhmm

“They would disown him and throw him out of the Clave—” “What, you can’t be gay and a Shadowhunter?” “There’s no official rule about it.

“Also—do I need any weapons? Do you?” “I’ve got plenty.” Isabelle smiled, kicking her feet up so that her anklets jingled like Christmas bells.

electrum, which is poisonous to demons, and the right one is blessed iron, in case I run across any unfriendly vampires or even faeries—faeries hate iron.

“Last time I left you alone, a demon attacked you,” he pointed out. “Well, I’d certainly hate to interrupt your pleasant night stroll with my sudden death.”

“They are, but they’ve been altered to run on demon energies,” she explained. “Vampires use them—it lets them get around fast at night. It’s not strictly Covenant, but…” “I’ve heard some of the bikes can fly,” said Alec eagerly.

He was Asian, with an elegantly high-cheekboned, handsome face, broad-shouldered despite his slim frame.

Magnus

“I thought you swore there’d be no wolf-men here tonight, Bane.” “I invited none of the Moon’s Children,” Magnus said,

“We put the holy water in his gas tank, you know,” he said. “ALEC,” said Jace. “Shut up.”

“We can talk to you under the seal of the Covenant. If you help us, anything you say will be confidential.”

‘To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune. To lose both looks like carelessness.’ ”

The only caveat was that she’d have to come to me every two years as the results of the spell began to fade.” “And did she?” asked Clary. Magnus nodded. “I’ve seen you every two years since that first time—I’ve watched you grow up.

Just the fact that she was here meant the spell had started to fade—and in fact, we were due for another visit about a month ago.

“I saw you coming out of Dorothea’s apartment. I remember your eyes.” Magnus looked as if he might purr. “I’m memorable, it’s true,” he gloated.

“Will I get all my memories back then? Whatever was taken out of my head?” “I don’t know. They might come back all at once, or in stages. Or you might never remember what you’ve forgotten over the years.

The difference in your case is that it’s true. You are different. Maybe not better—but different.

“I don’t care if I’m different,” she said. “I just want to be who I really am.”

“Is that a copy of the Gray Book?” Magnus, feverishly flipping pages, said nothing. “Hodge has one,” Alec observed. “He showed it to me once.” “It’s not gray,” Clary felt compelled to point out. “It’s green.”

“If there was such a thing as terminal literalism, you’d have died in childhood,”

“Gray is short for ‘Gramarye.’ It means ‘magic, hidden wisdom.’ In it is copied every rune the Angel Raziel wrote in the original Book of the Covenant. There aren’t many copies because each one has to be specially made. Some of the runes are so powerful they’d burn through regular pages.”

She was about to blink when she felt it: a click inside her head, like a key turning in a lock. The rune on the page seemed to spring into sharp focus, and she thought, involuntarily, Remember.

“Most Shadowhunter children grow up learning one rune at a time over a period of years,” said Jace. “The Gray Book contains runes even I don’t know.” “Imagine that,” said Magnus. Jace ignored him.

“I still don’t remember anything about the Mortal Cup.” “Is that what this is about?” Magnus sounded actually astonished. “You’re after the Angel’s Cup? Look, I’ve been through your memories. There was nothing in them about the Mortal Instruments.” “Mortal Instruments?” Clary echoed, bewildered. “I thought—”

Let's goooo

“The Angel gave three items to the first Shadowhunters. A cup, a sword, and a mirror. The Silent Brothers have the sword; the cup and the mirror were in Idris, at least until Valentine came along.”

“Nobody knows where the mirror is,” said Alec. “Nobody’s known for ages.” “It’s the Cup that concerns us,” said Ja...

“I would guess so. He suffered a grave defeat, and he hardly seemed—seems—the type of man to suffer defeat gracefully.”

“Were you at the Uprising?” Magnus’s eyes locked with Alec’s. “I was. I killed a number of your folk.” “Circle members,” said Jace quickly. “Not ours—” “If you insist on disavowing that which is ugly about what you do,” said Magnus, still looking at Alec, “you will never learn from your mistakes.”

“if I had to choose between the Clave and Valentine, I would choose the Clave. At least they’re not actually sworn to wipe out my kind. But nothing the Clave has done has earned my unswerving loyalty either. So no, I’ll sit this one out.