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Clockwork Prince
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Excerpts from Clockwork Prince
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Apr 17, 2011 09:31AM
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Marina wrote: "Goodness. Okay.On Mon, Jan 3, 2011 at 9:05 PM, Marina S wrote:
Hi Cassandra,
Im currently hooked on your The Infernal Devices series (after reading Mortal Instruments) and I have some qu..."
hahahahhahahahhahhahahha marina! you've got the be the funniest person!
p.s: i love question 8;)
@daylighter - i know what you mean, CoFA made me abit sad. i miss the old sarcastic sexy Jace. i don;t like the new depressed withdrawn jace :( and i hate how his life was so messed up in CoFA
i also have other e-mails if u guys want to see them:P
Ew. Jem is way better, sorry. Even though I prefer Will over Jace .
Mod
You don't like Jace? if you don't mind me asking who do you like from the MI series?
Marina wrote: "i also have other e-mails if u guys want to see them:P"
YESS PLEASEEE
Britnee *has an evil bunny!* wrote: "Ew. Jem is way better, sorry. Even though I prefer Will over Jace ."Thats odd... i don't think i've seen anyone who doesn't like jace... why don't you like him?
Oh I liked Jace in the original TMI series but not so much in CoFA. So atm I like Will over Jace. Because Jace annoyed me.
k heres another e-mail
Dear Cassandra Clare,In The Infernal Devices series, will there be any celebration of birhtdays, particularly Tessa, Will or Jems'? If so when are their birthday's and which book(s) will we be experienceing it in?
No, there won't be.
Also (now that I've asked about Birthday's :P ) will there be any holidays celebrated in the ID series (if so which one/s) like christmas and stuff?
Not really! Some discussion of past holidays.
Lastly what can you tell us about Clockwork Prince..were DYING to read the books! Is there a synopsis that you can give us.. a different one from the previous ones?
"In Clockwork Prince, with the Magister vanished and the clock counting down on how long Charlotte can keep control of the Institute away from Benedict Lightwood, Will, Jem and Tessa must dig into the Magister's past to predict what he will do in the future, But secrets about the Magister aren't all they find buried — Tessa begins to uncover the truth about her own birth, and the ghosts of Will's past return to haunt him. As Tessa grows closer to Jem, and Will is driven further toward the brink of madness by jealousy and guilt, will they discover the truth in time to halt the next phase of the Magister's evil plan?" is what I assume you've seen. I am really not sure what I can add to that — Tessa learns more about what she is, we find out a lot about Will's dark secret, and we get to know Jem better. We also get to know the Lightwoods better.
Thank you SOOO MUCH!!! love your books..espacially the ID series (i think i preffer them over MI)!!
_marina
in response to question #3 when i tried to ask a bit more about her response to it....________________________________________
Hi Marina.
I really can't tell you any of those things — I merely meant that it's not one of those situations where the boys are both standing around going pick me, pick me. There are also a lot of outside circumstances affecting things.
CC
When i asked about the spoiler where she said that 1 character that we already know will be engaged by the end of CP..her response:_______________________________
Hi Marina.
Because Clockwork Angel takes place in the 1800's, it is yes, more likely, that one of the teen characters we know will get engaged than it is in TMI. Though it was usual for people to get married a little older, being engaged or married at seventeen or eighteen wasn't unheard of.
By the end of the ID series, you'll understand who everyone's ancestor is.
Cassie
Marina,"In Clockwork Prince will the story (in relationships) revolve around Jem and Tessa a lot (or more) then Tessa and Will?"
I would say the story is equally divided between Jem and Tessa and Tessa and Will.
"Are many secrets going to be revealed in Clockwork Prince about Will's past or will we have to wait till the final book, Clockwork Princess?"
Many secrets are revealed.
"Will Jesamine continue to find a way out of the Institute, by using Tessa, or will she decide that she wishes to stay there? And (lastly) is there any secrets that Jem is hiding, from his past or even from the present, that we will slowly learn more from?"
These I can't answer. But I am glad you are eager to know!
Cassie
After me asking about the Jace+Will ancestor thing:________________________
Hi Marina,
You're correct that "I can't tell you, it'll ruin the books" is about all I can say. However, I wouldn't write a love triangle where one of the outcomes was obviously impossible. It would be easy enough for Will to be related to Jace and never have children: he could have a brother, and therefore be Jace's great-great-great-great uncle. How would he know? He hasn't seen his family in six years. There are quite a few other ways it could happen as well but I'll leave them to you to figure out. :)
Cassie
also cassie told me that Will will be wet atleast one more time in CP (as we already know that at the beginning of the book when he's at Magnuses he's soaking wet from the rain):Pand also that both Will and Jem have a sexy scene in CP
Mod
and also that bo..."
that sexy scene you mentioned is not of Jem & Will together right! lol
omg that would be hilariousss :P Lawllbut no im pretty sure that they both have there 'own' sexy scene with Tessa (or at least i hope so..well actually i just hope for Will) :P
Mod
but no im pretty sure that they both have there 'own' sexy scene with Tessa (or at least i hope so..well actually i just hope for Will) :P"
haha yeah that's what I was thinking too lol
btw thanks for posting =)
Wow, Marina, I hereby nominate you the Official Infernal Devices Detective! Those are great.
lol Wendy :P thankss
DSBS is probably Tessa + Will. James is pale, so you probs wouldn't see lines from the mask on him...
gotta agree.Marina, good job. i haven't read CoFA so please don't give to much away!...... okay what happened to jace? is Tessa in it? were? what basically happens? PLEASE ANSWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jace is really distant in most of COFA and...he really changes at the end of the book. Through no fault of his own. If you're a Jace fan, there's still plenty of stuff to love in it though, he's his usual charming self in most ways. And there's the infamous Dirty Sexy Alley Scene.Tessa does not make an appearance in it (boo hiss!) but people mention Will a few times.
Britnee *has an evil bunny!* wrote: "Oh I liked Jace in the original TMI series but not so much in CoFA. So atm I like Will over Jace. Because Jace annoyed me."Yeah, yeah i understand. Jace annoyed me too, in a depressing sort of way, i felt sorry for him
LOL marina, Cassie must think you're a stalker or something hahaha but GOOD JOB! keep on pestering her for more info!
Brittany wrote: "DSBS is probably Tessa + Will. James is pale, so you probs wouldn't see lines from the mask on him..."i hope so <3
@stephanielol one time she told me that im so obsessed with ID that she thinks that i desperatly need an ARC :p i kinda do...
Marina wrote: "lol one time she told me that im so obsessed with ID that she thinks that i desperatly need an ARC :p i kinda do..."I will fight you for it.
Marina wrote: "@stephanielol one time she told me that im so obsessed with ID that she thinks that i desperatly need an ARC :p i kinda do..."
haha she speaks the truth! but on the bright side, you're helping us desperate lovers of her book hehe ;D
I thought I'd just post it here:Would it be possible for Tessa to start fighting/training like a shadowhunter?
-Cassandra: Tessa will be being trained in book two — by Gabriel Lightwood.
Also:
Prologue: The Outcast Dead
The fog was thick, muffling sound and sight: where it parted, Will Herondale could see the street rising ahead of him, slick and wet and black with rain, and hear the voices of the dead.
Not all Shadowhunters could hear ghosts, unless the ghosts chose to be heard, but Will was one of those few who could. As he approached the old cemetery, their voices rose in a ragged musical chorus: wails and pleading, cries and snarls. This was not a peaceful burial ground, but Will knew that; it was not his first visit to the Cross Bones Graveyard near London Bridge. He did his best to block out the noises, hunching his shoulders so that his collar covered his ears, his head down, a fine mist of rain dampening his black hair.
The entrance to the cemetery was halfway down the block: a pair of wrought iron gates set into a high stone wall. Any mundane passing by could see the thick chains that bound the gates shut, and the sign declaring the premises closed— it had been fifteen years since a body was buried here, but the place itself remained, as yet undesecrated. As Will neared the gates, something no mundane would have seen materialized out of the fog: a great bronze knocker in the shape of a hand, the fingers bony and skeletal. With a grimace, Will reached out one of his own gloved hands and lifted the knocker, letting it fall once, twice, three times, the hollow clank resounding through the night like the rattling chains of Marley’s ghost.
For several long moments, nothing happened. Beyond the gates, Will saw mist, rising like steam from the ground, obscuring the grave markers and long, uneven plots of earth between them. Slowly the mist began to rise and coalesce, taking on an eerie blue glow. Will put his hands to the bars of the gate; the cold of the metal seeped through his gloves, into his bones, and he shivered. It was a more than ordinary cold— when ghosts rose, they drew energy from their surroundings, depriving the air and space around them of heat. The hairs of the back of Will’s neck prickled and stood up as the blue mist swirled, forming slowly into the shape of an old woman, in a ragged dress and white apron, her head bent.
“Hallo, Mol,” said Will. “You’re looking particularly fine this evening, if I do say so.”
The ghost raised her head. Old Molly was a strong spirit, one of the stronger Will had encountered. Even as moonlight speared through a gap in the clouds, she hardly looked transparent; her body was solid, her hair twisted in a thick yellow-gray coil over one shoulder, her rough, red hands braced on her hips. Only her eyes were hollow, twin blue flames flickering in their depths.
“William Herondale,” she said. “Back again so soon?”
She moved toward the gate with that gliding motion peculiar to ghosts. Her feet were bare and filthy, despite the fact that they never touched the ground.
Will leaned against the gate. “You know I missed your pretty face.”
She grinned, her eyes flickering, and he caught a glimpse of the skull beneath the half-transparent skin. Overhead, the clouds had closed in on each other again, black and roiling, blocking out the moon. Idly, Will wondered what Old Molly had done to get herself buried here, far from consecrated ground. Most of the whispering voices of the dead belonged to prostitutes, suicides, and stillbirths— those outcast dead who could not be buried in a churchyard. Although Molly had managed to make the situation quite profitable for herself, so perhaps she didn’t mind.
She chortled. “What d’you want then, young Shadowhunter? Malphas venom? I have the talon of a Morax demon, polished very fine, the poison at the tip entirely invisible—”
“No,” Will said. “That’s not what I need. I need Foraii demon powders, ground fine.”
If a ghost could have paled, Old Molly would have paled; as it was, she seemed to flicker as Will spoke, like the flame of a candle at an open window. When he was done, she turned her head aside and spat a tendril of blue fire.
Will exhaled, his breath turning to mist on the cold air. “Surely,” he said, “that’s not the worst thing anyone’s ever paid you for, Old Mol.”
It was always like this. She argued, and then she gave in eventually. Magnus had already sent Will to Old Mol several times now, once for black stinking candles that stuck to his skin like tar, once for the bones of an unborn child, and once for a bad of faeries’ eyes which had dripped blood on his shirt. Foraii demon powder sounded pleasant by comparison.
She slid her hands into the pouch at the front of her apron. When she removed them, she was holding a faded cloth bag, tied with a scrap of dirty ribbon. She shook her head slowly. “You think I’m a fool,” she said, hoarsely. “This is a trap, innit? You Nephilim catch me selling that sort of stuff, an’ it’s the stick for Old Mol, it is.”
“You’re already dead.” Will did his best not to sound irritable. “I don’t know what you think the Clave could do to you now.”
“Pah.” Her hollow eyes flamed. “The prisons of the Silent Brothers, beneath the earth, can hold either the living or the dead; you know that, Will Herondale.”
Will held his hands up. ”No tricks, old one. Surely you must have the rumors running around Downworld. The Clave has other things on its mind than tracking down ghosts who traffic in demon powders and faerie blood.” He leaned forward. “I’ll give you a good price.” He drew a cambric bag from his pocket and dangled it in the air. It clinked like coins rattling together. ”They all fit your description, Mol.”
An eager look came over her dead face, and she solidified enough to take the bag from him. She plunged one hand into it and brought her palm out full of rings— gold wedding rings, each tied in a lover’s knot at the top. Old Mol, like many ghosts, was always looking for that talisman, that lost piece of her past that would finally allow her to die, the anchor that kept her trapped in the world. In her case, it was her wedding ring. It was common belief, Magnus had told Will, that the ring was long gone, buried under the silty bed of the Thames, but in the meantime she’d taken any bag of found rings on the hope one would turn out to be hers. So far it hadn’t happened.
She dripped the rings back into the bag, which vanished somewhere on her undead person, and handed him a folded sachet of powder in return. He slipped it into his jacket pocket just as the ghost began to shimmer and fade. “Hold up there, Mol. That isn’t all I have come for, to-night.”
The spirit flickered while greed warred with her innate sense of self-preservation. Finally, she grunted. “Very well. What else d’you want?”
Will hesitated. This was not something Magnus had sent him for; it was something he wanted to know for himself. “Love potions—”
Old Mol screeched with laughter. “Love potions? For Will Herondale? T’aint my way to turn down payment, but any man who looks like you has got no need of love potions, and that’s a fact.”
“No,” Will said, a little desperation in his voice, “I was looking for the opposite, really— something that might put an end to being in love.”
“An ‘atred potion?” Mol sounded amused.
“I was hoping for something more akin to indifference? Toleration…?”
She made a snorting noise, astonishingly human for a ghost. “I ‘ardly like to tell you this, Nephilim, but if you want a girl to ‘ate you, there’s easy enough ways of making it ‘appen. You don’t need my help with the poor thing.”
And with that, she vanished, spinning away into the mists among the graves. Will, looking after her, sighed. “Not for her,” he said, under his breath, though there was no one to hear him, “for me…” and he leaned his head against the cold iron gate.
I saw that linked! I was geeky enough to copy it into a word document and pdf it for my Kindle, too. :P Have to do what you can to tide yourself over until the release date...
..................................................... ............................................................................................................................................wow................
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh :'( i can't do it anymore, i just can't :'( all these beautiful teasers and we still have to wait for what seems like 500 hundred years :'(
I know, Stephanie, I know.Here is a teaser that I'm not sure has been posted here yet--it's a pretty good one.
********************
“Say something in Mandarin,” said Tessa, with a smile.
Jem said something that sounded like a lot of breathy vowels and consonants run together, his voice rising and falling melodically: “Ni hen piao liang.”
“What did you say?” Tessa was curious.
“I said your hair is coming undone — here,” he said, and reached out and tucked an escaping curl back behind her ear. Tessa felt the blood spill hot up into her face, and was glad for the dimness of the carriage. “You have to be careful with it,” he said, taking his hand back, slowly, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
(What he actually says is "You are beautiful." But Tessa doesn't know that.)
********************
i think my fav CP teaser is the mauve one <3 gotta love Will
Mod
yeah I like that teaser too! :D
i hope she posts a new teaser for the easter weekend <33
Mod
The door to the training room opened. Tessa and Sophie turned as Gabriel Lightwood strode into the room, followed by a boy she had not met. Where Gabriel was slender and darker-haired, the other boy was muscular, with thick, sandy-blond hair. They were both dressed in gear, with expensive-looking dark gloves studded with metal across the knuckles. Each wore silver bands around each wrist — knife sheaths, Tessa knew — and had the same elaborate, pale white pattern of runes woven into the sleeves of their gear. It was clear not just from the similarity of their clothes but the shape of their faces and the pale, luminous green of their eyes that they were related, so Tessa was not in the least surprised when Gabriel said, in his abrupt manner:
“Well, we’re here as we said we would be. James, I assume you remember my brother, Gideon. Miss Gray, Miss Collins —”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Gideon muttered, meeting neither of their gazes with his. Bad moods seemed to run in the family, Tessa thought, remembering that Will had said that next to his brother, Gabriel seemed a sweetheart.
YAY!!! a new teaser :P
Argh just give me the book ;~; I want it NOW
hahahha "next to his brother, gabriel looked like a sweetheart" ha aww i want the book so bad... it's funny 'cos i normally prefered TMI but now... i think my best books are the Infernal devices series
I like ID way better than TMI
I enjoy Daylighter's group polls, although I've answered ID for every single one so far. ;)
Mod
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Will looked at Jem. His eyes were bluer than blue, his cheeks flushed. He said, “Then you have wasted your time.”
Jem stared back at him. “God damn you,” he said, and hit Will across the face, sending him spinning. He didn’t lose his footing, but fetched up against the side of the carriage, his hand to his cheek. His mouth was bleeding. He looked at Jem with total astonishment.
“Get him into the carriage,” Jem said to Tessa, and turned and went back through the red door — to pay for whatever Will had taken, Tessa thought. Will was still staring after him.
“James?” he said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What desperation drove you to me, in the middle of the night, in a
rainstorm? What has changed at the Institute? I can only think of one
thing…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Will: ““Tess,” he said, and she thought, once again, how no one but
him ever called her that. “That is all I think about.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tessa: “Jem!” she cried again, and when he did not look up, she
strode across the room, and wrenched the bow out of his hand. “Jem, stop!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“They’re not hideous,” said Tessa.
Will blinked at her. “What?”
“Gideon and Gabriel,” said Tessa. “They’re really quite good-looking, not hideous at all.”
“I spoke,” said Will, in sepulchral tones, “of the pitch-black inner depths of their souls.”
Tessa snorted. “And what color do you suppose the inner depths of your soul are, Will Herondale?”
“Mauve,” said Will.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Will’s voice dropped. “Everyone makes mistakes, Jem.”
“Yes,” said Jem. “You just make more of them than most people.”
“I —”
“You hurt everyone,” said Jem. “Everyone whose life you touch.”
“Not you,” Will whispered. “I hurt everyone but you. I never meant to
hurt you.”
Jem put his hands up, pressing his palms against his eyes. “Will —”
“You can’t never forgive me,” Will said in disbelief, hearing the
panic tinging his own voice. “I’d be —”
“Alone?” Jem lowered his hand, but he was smiling now, crookedly. “And
whose fault is that?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“He’s Nephilim,” said his companion. “And you’ve never cared for them.
How much did he pay you?”
“Nothing,” said Magnus, and now he was not seeing anything that was
there, not the river, not Will, only a wash of memories: eyes, faces,
lips, receding into memory, love that he could no longer put a name
to. “He did me a favor. One he doesn’t even remember.”
“He’s very pretty. For a human.”
“He’s very broken,” said Magnus. “Like a lovely vase that someone has
smashed. Only luck and skill can put it back together the way it was
before.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Say something in Mandarin,” said Tessa, with a smile.
Jem said something that sounded like a lot of breathy vowels and
consonants run together, his voice rising and falling melodically: “Ni
hen piao liang.”
“What did you say?” Tessa was curious.
“I said your hair is coming undone — here,” he said, and reached out
and tucked an escaping curl back behind her ear. Tessa felt the blood
spill hot up into her face, and was glad for the dimness of the
carriage. “You have to be careful with it,” he said, taking his hand
back, slowly, his fingers lingering against her cheek.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
““You’re seventeen,” Magnus said. “You can’t have wasted a life you’ve
barely lived.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They slowed finally at the southeastern corner of the church. Watery daylight poured through the rose windows overhead. “I know we are in a hurry to get to the Council meeting,” said Jem. “But I wanted you to see this.” He gestured around them. “Poet’s Corner.”
Tessa had read of the place, of course, where the great poets and writers of England were buried. There was the gray stone tomb of Chaucer, with its canopy, and other familiar names: Edmund Spenser, who had written The Faerie Queen, “Oh, and Milton,” she gasped, “and Coleridge, and Robert Burns, and Shakespeare —”
“He isn’t really buried here,” said Jem, quickly. “It’s just a monument.”
“Oh, I know, but —” She looked at him, and felt herself flush. “I can’t explain it. It’s like being among friends, being among these names. Silly, I know . . .”
“Not silly at all.”
She smiled at him. “How did you know just what I’d want to see?”
“How could I not?” he said. “When I think of you, and you are not there, I see you in my mind’s eye always with a book in your hand.” He looked away from her as he said it, but not before she caught the slight flush on his cheekbones. He was so pale, he could never hide even the least blush, she thought — and was surprised how affectionate the thought was.
She had become very fond of Jem over the past fortnight; Will had been studiously avoiding her, Charlotte and Henry were caught up in issues of Clave and Council and the running of the Institute —even Jessamine seemed preoccupied. But Jem was always there. He seemed to take his role as her guide to London seriously: they had been to Hyde Park and Kew Gardens, the National Gallery and the British Museum, the Tower of London and Traitor’s Gate. They gone to see the cows being milked in St James Park, the fruit and vegetable sellers in Covent Garden, had watched the boats sailing on the sun-sparked Thames from the Embankment. And as the days went on, Tessa felt herself unfolding slowly out of her quiet, huddled unhappiness over Nate and Will and the loss of her old life, like a flower climbing out of frozen ground. She had even found herself laughing. And she had Jem to thank for it.
“You are a good friend,” she exclaimed, and when, to her surprise, he said nothing to that, she said, “At least, I hope we are good friends. You do think so too, don’t you, Jem?”
He turned to look at her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He reached up and unlocked Tessa’s hands from around his neck. He drew her gloves off, and they joined her mask and the hairpins on the stone floor of the balcony. He pulled off his own mask next and cast it aside, running his hands through his sweat-dampened hair, pushing it back from his forehead. The lower edge of the mask had left marks across his high cheekbones, like light scars, but when she reached to touch them, he gently caught at her hands and pressed them down.
“No,” he said. “Let me touch you first.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door to the training room opened. Tessa and Sophie turned as Gabriel Lightwood strode into the room, followed by a boy she had not met. Where Gabriel was slender and darker-haired, the other boy was muscular, with thick, sandy-blond hair. They were both dressed in gear, with expensive-looking dark gloves studded with metal across the knuckles. Each wore silver bands around each wrist — knife sheaths, Tessa knew — and had the same elaborate, pale white pattern of runes woven into the sleeves of their gear. It was clear not just from the similarity of their clothes but the shape of their faces and the pale, luminous green of their eyes that they were related, so Tessa was not in the least surprised when Gabriel said, in his abrupt manner:
“Well, we’re here as we said we would be. James, I assume you remember my brother, Gideon. Miss Gray, Miss Collins —”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Gideon muttered, meeting neither of their gazes with his. Bad moods seemed to run in the family, Tessa thought, remembering that Will had said that next to his brother, Gabriel seemed a sweetheart.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CP deleted scene:
The darkness came and went in waves that grew ever slower. Tessa was
beginning to feel lighter, less like an awful weight was pressing her
down. She wondered how much time had passed. It was night in the
infirmary, and she could see Will a few beds away from her, a curled
figure under the blankets, dark head pillowed on his arm. Brother
Enoch had given him a tisane to drink once the [redacted] was cut out
of his skin, and he had fallen asleep almost instantly, thank God. The
sight of him in that much pain had been more harrowing than she could
have imagined.
She was in a clean white nightgown now; someone must have cut away her
blood-stiffened clothes and washed her hair before bandaging her — it
lay softly over his shoulders, no longer twisted into rat-tails of
tangles and drying blood.
‘Tessa,” came a whispered voice. “Tess?”
Only Will calls me that. She opened her eyes, but it was Jem seated on
the side of her bed, looking down at her. The moonlight spilling
through the high ceilings turned him almost transparent, an ethereal
angel, all silver but for the gold chain at his throat.
He smiled. “You’re awake.”
“I’ve been awake here and there.” She coughed. “Enough to know I’m all
right besides a crack on the head. A lot of fuss about nothing —”
Tessa’s eyes dropped, and she saw that Jem was carrying something in
his hands: a thick mug of some liquid that sent up a fragrant steam.
“What’s that?”
“One of Brother Enoch’s tisanes,” said Jem. “It will help you sleep.”
“All I’ve been doing is sleeping!”
“And very amusing it is to watch,” said Jem. “Did you know you twitch
your nose when you sleep, like a rabbit?”
“I do not,” she said, with a whispered laugh.
“You do,” he said. “Fortunately, I like rabbits.” He handed her the
cup. “Drink just a little,” He said. “It is right for you to sleep.
Brother Enoch says to think of the wounds and shocks to your spirit as
you would think of wounds and shocks to your body. You must rest the
injured part of yourself before you begin to heal.”
Tessa was dubious, but she took a sip of the tisane anyway, and then
another. It had a pleasant taste, like cinnamon. Barely had she
swallowed the second mouthful when a feeling of exhaustion swept over
her. She lay back against the pillows, listening to his soft voice
telling her a story about a beautiful young woman whose husband had
died building the Great Wall of China, and who had cried so much over
his loss that she had turned into a silvery fish and swum away across
a river. As Tessa drifted off into dreams, she felt his gentle hands
take the cup from her and set it down on the bedside table. She wanted
to thank him, but she was already asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"“We’re Nephilim. Every one of our life’s passages has some mystical component — our births, our deaths, our, marriages, everything has a ceremony and a rune. There is one as well if you wish to become someone’s parabatai. It’s no small commitment." Jem, Clockwork Prince
Mod
haha thanks, at least you're not annoyed =)
same ive always picked CA & ID over all the TMI books in ur polls. and i <3 ur polls tonssss! they let everyone express their opinions in different ways..thanks so much for making such amazing polls! :D
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