Extraits

She had only been out in her brother’s clothes twice, both times late at night— but oh, women looked at her then, smiling women, conspiratorial women, women who knew that in donning the clothes of men, Anna walked in their power and their privilege. They looked at her soft lips, her long eyelashes, her blue eyes; they looked at her hips in tight trousers, the curve of her breasts under a man’s cotton shirt, and their eyes spoke to her in the secret language of women: You have taken their power for your own. You have stolen fire from the gods. Now come and make love to me, as Zeus made love to Danae, in a shower of gold.

Anna spent two hours writing a note to Ariadne that ended up reading:

Dear Ariadne,

It was very nice to meet you. I hope we can train together sometime. Please do pay a call.

Regards,

Anna Lightwood

Two entire hours for that, and a pile of drafts. Time no longer had meaning, and might never have meaning again.

It was like being Marked all over again, defining who she was. This was Anna Lightwood.

I do not have to be only one thing, Anna thought. I can choose what suits me when it suits me. The trousers and jacket do not make me a man, and the necklace does not make me a woman. They are only what makes me feel beautiful and powerful in this moment. I am exactly as I choose to be. I am a Shadowhunter who wears gorgeous suits and a legendary pendant.

“It cannot protect your heart, but it can protect the rest of you,” Cecily said. “It is an heirloom. It should be yours.”

“Mama,” she said. “You do not mind—that I might not get married, or have children?”

"They said your Uncle Will could not be with your Aunt Tessa, that your Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gideon could not be together. And yet, I think you will find that they were wrong, and they would have been wrong even if marriage had been forbidden them. Even where laws are unjust, hearts can find a way to be together. If you love someone, I have no doubt you will find a way to spend your life with them, Anna. You are the most determined child I know.”

This was what love was. It was total. It brought her together with everything. Anna barely cared if she made it home before someone would notice her missing. She wanted to feel like this forever—exactly this, this soft and fragrant and friendly morning, with the feel of Ariadne still on her skin. Her future, so confused before, was clear. She would be with Ariadne forever. They would travel the world, fight side by side.

“Do you know why I named you Anna?” Cecily said.

Anna shook her head, puzzled.

“I was awfully ill during my pregnancy,” said Cecily. Anna blinked—she hadn’t known that. “I was worried all the time that you wouldn’t live to be born, or you would be sickly and ill. And then you were born, and you were the most beautiful, healthy, perfect child.” She smiled. “Anna means favor, as in God has favored me. I thought the Angel had favored me with you, and I would make sure you were always happy, always content.” She reached out to gently touch Anna’s cheek. “She broke your heart, didn’t she? Ariadne?”

She was not a man and did not want to be—but why should men get to keep all the good pieces of masculinity for themselves because of an accident of birth? Why should she, Anna, not wear their clothes, and their power and confidence, too?

You have stolen fire from the gods.