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Excerpts from Clockwork Prince


Tessa pushed the carriage curtains a..."
OMG......!!!!!!
So below is a list of the titles of the chapters in Clockwork Prince. This is in the mold of the post I made about the chapter titles of CoFA, back in February 2010. The chapters, the titles of them, the source of the title if it’s from a poem, and even a few lines and spoilers. Since I’m away most of June, this will be the June Clockwork Prince teaser!
Prologue: The Outcast Dead
Will visits the Cross Bones Graveyard in London.
Chapter One: The Council Chamber
Pretty literal — the Council meets to discuss whether Charlotte is fit to run the Institute; we see a bit more of the Lightwoods, not to mention the Waylands and some other familiar families.
Chapter Two: Reparations
“Mr. Bane has been awaiting your arrival, sir,” said the footman, and stepped aside to let Will enter.
Chapter Three: Unjustifiable Death
The term, under the Accords, for a Shadowhunter killing a Downworlder without provocation.
“This was the first time she had been alone with Will in weeks.”
Chapter Four: A Journey
Tessa, Will and Jem leave the Institute and in fact, London entirely.
“Gabriel Lightwood strode across the room to meet them. He really was quite tall, Tessa thought, craning her neck to look up at him. As a tall girl herself, she didn’t often find herself bending her head back to look up at men.”
Chapter Five: Shades of the Past
This one is a pun that will probably only make sense upon actual reading. Althpugh one of the themes of the book is how the past affects the present.
Chapter Six: In Silence Sealed
Again the theme is hidden secrets. The title comes from a Charlotte Bronte poem. “In secret kept, in silence sealed.” Tessa begins to uncover the secrets of her own origins.
Chapter Seven: I had to redact the title of this chapter. It’s a spoiler.
“When Will truly wants something,” said Jem, quietly, “when he feels something — he can break your heart.”
Chapter Eight: The Purposes of Wrath
The title here comes from Thomas de Quncey’s (yes de Quincey!) Confessions of an English Opium-Eater. The paragraph is about addiction, and both the pleasures and the pains of opium, and the chapter is not dissimilar. Also, we meet Ragnor Fell.
Chapter Nine: Fierce Midnight
This chapter ends the night begun in the previous chapter. And has some pretty hot kissing. Titled after a Swinburne poem.
Chapter Ten: The Virtue of Angels
The virtue of angels is that they cannot deteriorate; their flaw is that they cannot improve. Man’s flaw is that he can deteriorate; and his virtue is that he can improve. —The Talmud
Someone rather unexpected hits Gabriel — who, really, was asking for it.
Chapter Eleven: Wild Unrest
This chapter title comes from the poem “City of Dreadful Night” by James Thompson. It’s really about taking on the suffering of someone you love. Will wanders about London at night. “He had reached Fleet Street. Temple Bar was visible through the mist in the distance” — Temple Bar is the structure Jem is standing in front of, on the cover of the book.
Chapter Twelve: The Ball
This is somewhat self-explanatory. There is a masquerade ball. And a balcony. And Magnus.
Chapter Thirteen: The Mortal Sword
We finally see the Mortal Sword put to its actual use: extracting the truth from reluctant Shadowhunters. And it is not pretty.
Chapter Fourteen: The Silent City
“Ah,” said a voice from the doorway, “having your annual ‘everyone thinks Will is a lunatic’ meeting, are you?”
Chapter Fifteen: Thousands More
From a poem by Charlotte Mew: There are thousands more; you do not miss a rose.
“Will has always been the brighter burning star, the one to catch attention — but Jem is a steady flame, unwavering and honest. He could make you happy.”
Chapter Sixteen: Mortal Rage
In which there are automatons and vengeance and explosions. The title comes from Shakespeare: “And brass eternal slave to mortal rage.”
Chapter Seventeen: In Dreams
There is the famous “in dreams begin responsibilities” but this title is actually from a poem by Matthew Arnold. The chapter from which this deleted scene was taken.
Chapter Eighteen: Until I Die
This chapter title has really freaked people out. So I will be nice and say that it is from a poem by Christopher Brennan (no relation to Sarah Rees):
Then seek not, sweet, the “If” and “Why”
I love you now until I die.
Chapter Nineteen: If Treason Doth Prosper
Betrayals and misunderstandings come thick and fast. And Magnus may have a new boyfriend. The title is from a poem attributed to Sir John Harrington:
“Treason doth never prosper: what’s the reason?
Why if it prosper, none dare call it treason.”
Chapter Twenty: The Last Dream
This is the chapter that made me cry! I rarely cry so I felt good about that. The chapter title comes from A Tale of Two Cities.
Chapter Twenty-One: Coals of Fire
I guess if you’re paying a lot of attention you’ll recognize this as part of something Jace quotes in City of Fallen Angels. Endings, beginnings, new characters, and, I promise, not too bad of a cliffhanger.
Prologue: The Outcast Dead
Will visits the Cross Bones Graveyard in London.
Chapter One: The Council Chamber
Pretty literal — the Council meets to discuss whether Charlotte is fit to run the Institute; we see a bit more of the Lightwoods, not to mention the Waylands and some other familiar families.
Chapter Two: Reparations
“Mr. Bane has been awaiting your arrival, sir,” said the footman, and stepped aside to let Will enter.
Chapter Three: Unjustifiable Death
The term, under the Accords, for a Shadowhunter killing a Downworlder without provocation.
“This was the first time she had been alone with Will in weeks.”
Chapter Four: A Journey
Tessa, Will and Jem leave the Institute and in fact, London entirely.
“Gabriel Lightwood strode across the room to meet them. He really was quite tall, Tessa thought, craning her neck to look up at him. As a tall girl herself, she didn’t often find herself bending her head back to look up at men.”
Chapter Five: Shades of the Past
This one is a pun that will probably only make sense upon actual reading. Althpugh one of the themes of the book is how the past affects the present.
Chapter Six: In Silence Sealed
Again the theme is hidden secrets. The title comes from a Charlotte Bronte poem. “In secret kept, in silence sealed.” Tessa begins to uncover the secrets of her own origins.
Chapter Seven: I had to redact the title of this chapter. It’s a spoiler.
“When Will truly wants something,” said Jem, quietly, “when he feels something — he can break your heart.”
Chapter Eight: The Purposes of Wrath
The title here comes from Thomas de Quncey’s (yes de Quincey!) Confessions of an English Opium-Eater. The paragraph is about addiction, and both the pleasures and the pains of opium, and the chapter is not dissimilar. Also, we meet Ragnor Fell.
Chapter Nine: Fierce Midnight
This chapter ends the night begun in the previous chapter. And has some pretty hot kissing. Titled after a Swinburne poem.
Chapter Ten: The Virtue of Angels
The virtue of angels is that they cannot deteriorate; their flaw is that they cannot improve. Man’s flaw is that he can deteriorate; and his virtue is that he can improve. —The Talmud
Someone rather unexpected hits Gabriel — who, really, was asking for it.
Chapter Eleven: Wild Unrest
This chapter title comes from the poem “City of Dreadful Night” by James Thompson. It’s really about taking on the suffering of someone you love. Will wanders about London at night. “He had reached Fleet Street. Temple Bar was visible through the mist in the distance” — Temple Bar is the structure Jem is standing in front of, on the cover of the book.
Chapter Twelve: The Ball
This is somewhat self-explanatory. There is a masquerade ball. And a balcony. And Magnus.
Chapter Thirteen: The Mortal Sword
We finally see the Mortal Sword put to its actual use: extracting the truth from reluctant Shadowhunters. And it is not pretty.
Chapter Fourteen: The Silent City
“Ah,” said a voice from the doorway, “having your annual ‘everyone thinks Will is a lunatic’ meeting, are you?”
Chapter Fifteen: Thousands More
From a poem by Charlotte Mew: There are thousands more; you do not miss a rose.
“Will has always been the brighter burning star, the one to catch attention — but Jem is a steady flame, unwavering and honest. He could make you happy.”
Chapter Sixteen: Mortal Rage
In which there are automatons and vengeance and explosions. The title comes from Shakespeare: “And brass eternal slave to mortal rage.”
Chapter Seventeen: In Dreams
There is the famous “in dreams begin responsibilities” but this title is actually from a poem by Matthew Arnold. The chapter from which this deleted scene was taken.
Chapter Eighteen: Until I Die
This chapter title has really freaked people out. So I will be nice and say that it is from a poem by Christopher Brennan (no relation to Sarah Rees):
Then seek not, sweet, the “If” and “Why”
I love you now until I die.
Chapter Nineteen: If Treason Doth Prosper
Betrayals and misunderstandings come thick and fast. And Magnus may have a new boyfriend. The title is from a poem attributed to Sir John Harrington:
“Treason doth never prosper: what’s the reason?
Why if it prosper, none dare call it treason.”
Chapter Twenty: The Last Dream
This is the chapter that made me cry! I rarely cry so I felt good about that. The chapter title comes from A Tale of Two Cities.
Chapter Twenty-One: Coals of Fire
I guess if you’re paying a lot of attention you’ll recognize this as part of something Jace quotes in City of Fallen Angels. Endings, beginnings, new characters, and, I promise, not too bad of a cliffhanger.





Yeah she doesn't get a choice - they both die. Jk. I don't think that will happen. I think she should just jump Jem and be done with it. Will is a useless fool with no respect for women

AN EXCERPT FROM CLOCKWORK PRINCE
(I met Cassie on Saturday and she was giving out these little booklets that have an excerpt of Clockwork Prince and an excerpt of Black Heart by Holly Black.)
Note: The booklet says “Text not final. Not for reproduction or sale. Available wherever books are sold December 2011”
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.




lol thanks for posting it! i think we should all hack into clare's computer and get CP and CoLS HAHAHAHAHAHA that would be nice :p


Anyway if you need a few extra hands i m in!!:D lol!!!
September teaser
“Must he be here?” Gabriel growled to Tessa the second time he had nearly dropped a knife while handing it to her. He put a hand on her shoulder, showing her the sight line for the target she was aiming at a black circle drawn on the wall. She knew how much he would rather she were aiming at Will. “Can’t you tell him to go away?”
“Now, why would I do that?” Tessa asked reasonably. “Will is my friend, and you are someone whom I do not even like.”
She threw the knife. It missed its target by several feet, striking low in the wall near the floor.
“No, you’re still weighting the point too much—and what do you mean, you don’t like me?” Gabriel demanded.
“Must he be here?” Gabriel growled to Tessa the second time he had nearly dropped a knife while handing it to her. He put a hand on her shoulder, showing her the sight line for the target she was aiming at a black circle drawn on the wall. She knew how much he would rather she were aiming at Will. “Can’t you tell him to go away?”
“Now, why would I do that?” Tessa asked reasonably. “Will is my friend, and you are someone whom I do not even like.”
She threw the knife. It missed its target by several feet, striking low in the wall near the floor.
“No, you’re still weighting the point too much—and what do you mean, you don’t like me?” Gabriel demanded.
Dear sensible Miss Gray,
I write to you on behalf of a mutual friend, one William Herondale. I know that it is his habit to come and go — most often go — from the Institute as he pleases, and that therefore it may be some time before any alarm is raised at his absence. But I ask you, as one who holds your good sense in esteem, not to assume this absence to be of the ordinary sort. I saw him myself last night and he was, to say the least, distraught when he left my residence. I have reason for concern that he might do himself an injury, and therefore I suggest that his whereabouts be sought and his safety ascertained. He is a difficult young man to like but I believe you see the good in him, as I do, Miss Gray, and that is why I humbly address my letter to you —
Your servant,
Magnus Bane
I write to you on behalf of a mutual friend, one William Herondale. I know that it is his habit to come and go — most often go — from the Institute as he pleases, and that therefore it may be some time before any alarm is raised at his absence. But I ask you, as one who holds your good sense in esteem, not to assume this absence to be of the ordinary sort. I saw him myself last night and he was, to say the least, distraught when he left my residence. I have reason for concern that he might do himself an injury, and therefore I suggest that his whereabouts be sought and his safety ascertained. He is a difficult young man to like but I believe you see the good in him, as I do, Miss Gray, and that is why I humbly address my letter to you —
Your servant,
Magnus Bane

Oct teaser:
The voices were quite clearly those of the Lightwood brothers. Tessa recognized Gideon’s lower, rougher tones as he said, “There will be a moment of reckoning, Gabriel. You can depend upon it. What will matter is where we stand when it comes.”
Gabriel replied, his voice tense, “We will stand with Father, of course. Where else?”
“You don’t know everything about him, Gabriel. You don’t know all that he has done.”
There was a silence through which Tessa could almost hear Gabriel sulking. At last he said, “If you despise Father so much, why did you ever come back from Spain?”
Gideon replied, sounding exasperated, “I came back for you —”
Sophie and Tessa had been leaning against the door, ears pressed to the wood; at that moment, the door gave way, and swung open. Both straightened hastily, Tessa hoping that no evidence of their eavesdropping appeared on their faces.
Gabriel and Gideon were standing in a patch of light at the centre of the room, facing off against each other. Tessa noticed something she had not noticed before: Gabriel, despite being the younger brother, was lankily taller than Gideon by some inches. Gideon was more muscular, broader through the shoulders. He swept a hand through his sandy hair, nodding curtly to the girls as they appeared in the doorway. “Good day, Miss Collins, Miss Gray.”
The voices were quite clearly those of the Lightwood brothers. Tessa recognized Gideon’s lower, rougher tones as he said, “There will be a moment of reckoning, Gabriel. You can depend upon it. What will matter is where we stand when it comes.”
Gabriel replied, his voice tense, “We will stand with Father, of course. Where else?”
“You don’t know everything about him, Gabriel. You don’t know all that he has done.”
There was a silence through which Tessa could almost hear Gabriel sulking. At last he said, “If you despise Father so much, why did you ever come back from Spain?”
Gideon replied, sounding exasperated, “I came back for you —”
Sophie and Tessa had been leaning against the door, ears pressed to the wood; at that moment, the door gave way, and swung open. Both straightened hastily, Tessa hoping that no evidence of their eavesdropping appeared on their faces.
Gabriel and Gideon were standing in a patch of light at the centre of the room, facing off against each other. Tessa noticed something she had not noticed before: Gabriel, despite being the younger brother, was lankily taller than Gideon by some inches. Gideon was more muscular, broader through the shoulders. He swept a hand through his sandy hair, nodding curtly to the girls as they appeared in the doorway. “Good day, Miss Collins, Miss Gray.”

I don't know if this Gabriel (In Clockwork Prince) is the same one in City of Ashes........

Anyway, I THOUGHT there was going to be something between Gabriel and Tessa [more something from Gabriel and not Tessa, actually xD] when i read TCA, but we'll see ;D

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 s..."
ahh, that's twice as sweet since I study chinese and I understand it. [kind of xD] so cuuuuute. Jem is really really a sweetheart, I am so sorry I'm a Team Will hardcore. ahahahaha

Anyway, I THOUGHT there was going to be something between Gabriel and Tessa [more something from Gabriel and not Tessa, actually xD] when i read TCA, bu..."
yes, but wasn't Luke a shadowhunter before he got turned into a werewolf?

*takes a bow*
:D
but i dont know. Maybe Cassandra Clare just made a mistake... if she did, its a confusing mistake.... if she didn't then something is actually going on with the CoA Gabriel and our ID Gabriel...

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Clockwork Prince (other topics)Clockwork Prince (other topics)
Tessa pushed the carriage curtains aside. Outside she could see the gaslights going by in a yellow blur; two children were slumped in a doorway, leaning against each other, asleep. Temple Bar flew by overhead.
“Have you ever thought of transforming yourself into one of your parents?” Will asked. “Your mother, or father? It would give you access to their memories, wouldn’t it?”
She turned to look at him. “I have thought of it. Of course I have. But I have nothing of my father’s or mother’s. Everything that was packed in my trunks for the voyage here was discarded by the Dark Sisters.”
“What about your angel necklace?” Will asked. “Wasn’t that your mother’s?”
Tessa shook her head. “I tried. I — I could reach nothing of her in it. It has been mine so long, I think, that what made it hers has evaporated, like water.”
Will’s eyes were dark blue in the shadows. “Perhaps you are a clockwork girl. Perhaps Mortmain’s warlock father built you, and now Mortmain seeks the secret of how to create such a perfect facsimile of life when all he can build are hideous monstrosities. Perhaps all that beats beneath your chest is a heart made of metal.”
Tessa drew in a breath, feeling momentarily dizzy. His soft voice was so convincing, and yet — “No,” she said, sharply. “You forget, I remember my childhood. Mechanical creatures do not change or grow. Nor would that explain my ability.”
“I know,” said Will, with a grin that flashed white in the darkness. “I only wanted to see if I could convince *you*.”
Tessa looked at him steadily. “I am not the one of us who has no heart.”
It was too dim in the carriage for her to tell, but she sensed that he had flushed, as he did when startled or upset, across the tops of his cheekbones. To her surprise, he reached out a gloved hand for her. It just brushed the edges of her curls, the kid leather smooth against her cheek — and the carriage wheels came to a jerking halt. They had arrived."