Extraits

"Tu as toujours voulu être comme Jace Herondale" dit [Mark à Emma]. "Le plus grand des guerriers. Mais j'ai toujours voulu être plus comme Alec Lightwood. J'aimerai faire quelque chose d'important pour les Chasseur d'Ombre et les Créatures Obscures. Puisque je ferai toujours partie de ces deux mondes".

"The King dreamed of a son who would unite the realms, inspire perfect loyalty and perfect love, who would be braver than any faeries knight that had gone before."

"Sure sounds like me" muttered Kit.

Tessa flashed him a sympathetic smile. "But when the child was born, she was a girl, Auraline."

"Plot twist" said Kit.

Traduction:

"Le roi rêvait d'un fils qui unirait les royaumes, inspirerait une loyauté parfaite et un amour parfait, qui serait plus brave que n'importe quel chevalier féerique auparavant."

"ça me ressemble grave" murmura Kit.

Tessa lui adressa un sourire compatissant. "Mais quand l'enfant est né, c'était une fille, Auraline."

"Retournement de situation", dit Kit.

“And I want to with you,” Mark said, his eyes softening. “But do you have the rune?”

The rune.

The birth control rune. Cristina had never put it on; she’d never thought she was that close to needing it. “Oh, no,” she said. “My stele is down in the Institute.”

“Mine as well,” he said. Cristina almost giggled at the disappointed look on his face. “Still,” he said, brightening. “There is much else I can do to make you feel good. Allow me?”

wyn seated himself opposite her, large hands at his sides, his brow creased with concern. His size and bulk somehow made him seem more helpless than he would have otherwise. “I know what happened,” he said. “When death comes in great and unexpected ways, the Wild Hunt knows it. We hear the stories told by spilled blood.”

Diana didn’t know what to say — that death was unfair? That Livvy hadn’t deserved to die that way, or any way? That the broken hearts of the Blackthorns would never be the same? It all seemed trite, a hundred times said and understood already.

Instead, she said, “I think I would like it if you kissed me.”

Gwyn didn’t hesitate. He was beside her in a moment, graceful despite his bulk; he put his arms around her and she was surrounded by warmth and the smell of the forest and horses. She wrinkled her nose slightly and smiled, and he kissed her smiling mouth.

It was a gentle kiss, for all his size. The softness of his mouth contrasted with the scratch of his stubble and the hard musculature under her hands when she put them timidly on his shoulders and stroked.

It had been a long time, and she had never imagined something quite like this: moonlight and flowers and kissing in glades were for other people.

But apparently not.

“I am not a princess,” Cristina said; she was leaning over him, one of her hands braced against the blanket. Kieran’s face was close to hers, so close she could see the dark fringe of his eyelashes. “And I do not want you to go.”

He wanted to ask Ty if he was all right, but he knew the other boy wouldn’t want it. Ty was staring at the Market, tense with curiosity. Kit turned to the phouka.

“Gatekeeper,” he said. “We request entrance to the Shadow Market.”

Ty’s gaze snapped to attention. The phouka was tall, dark and thin, with bronze and gold strands threaded through his long hair. He wore purple trousers and no shoes. The lamppost he leaned against was between two stalls, neatly blocking the way into the Market.

“Kit Rook,” said the phouka. “What a compliment it is, to still be recognized for one who has left us to dwell among the angels.”

“He knows you,” muttered Ty.

“Everyone in the Shadow Market knows me,” said Kit, hoping Ty would be impressed.

The phouka stubbed out his cigarette. It released a sickly-sweet smell of charred herbs. “Password,” he said.

“I’m not saying that,” said Kit. "You think it’s funny to try to make people say that."

“Say what? What’s the password?” Ty demanded.

The phouka grinned. “Wait here, Kit Rook,” he said, and melted back into the shadows of the Market.

“He’s going to get Hale,” said Kit, trying to hide the signs of his nerves.

“Can they see us?” Ty said. He was looking into the Shadow Market, where clusters of Downworlders, witches and other assorted members of the magical underworld moved among the clamor. “Out here?”

It was like standing outside a lighted room in the dark, Kit thought. And though Ty might not express it that way, Kit suspected he felt the same.

“If they can, they’d never show it,” he said.

Kit glanced around, wondering if the growing number of people was bothering Ty. He hated crowds. Magnus and Alec were standing with their kids near the Consul; they were with a beautiful black-haired girl with eyebrows just like Alec’s and a boy—well, he was probably in his twenties—with untidy brown hair. The boy gave Kit a considering look that seemed to say you look familiar. Several people had done the same. Kit guessed it was because he looked like Jace, if Jace had suffered a sudden and unexpected height, muscle and overall hotness reduction.

Soudain , la maison de l'Inquisiteur apparu au loin à travers le rideau de pluie. Julian monta quatre à quatre les marches du perron et faillit s'affaler contre la porte. Il frappa et Magnus vint ouvrir, le teint pâle et les traits tirés. Il avait enfilé un peignoir en soie bleu par dessus son jean et son tee-shirt noir et ôté toutes les bagues à ses doigts.

En voyant Julian, il s'appuya contre le chambranle, le regard un peu vague, comme s'il fixait quelque chose ou quelqu'un juste derrière lui.

- Magnus, je... bredouilla Julian d'un ton alarmé. Il avait oublié que le sorcier n'allait pas bien. À ses yeux, Magnus était éternel, immuable, invulnérable.

-Je suis venu ici de ma propre initiative, dit Magnus d'une voix lointaine, absente. J'ai besoin de vous. Vous êtes le seul à pouvoir 'aider.

- Non, je ne suis pas venu pour... (Julian s'interrompit.) Je viens de te rappeler quelqu'un.

Magnus s'ébroua comme un chien au sortir de l'eau.

- Oui. C'était une autre nuit et un autre garçon avec des yeux bleus. Je vivait à Londres et il pleuvait... pour ne pas changer, tu me diras.

“And I think we should have a baby.”

“Really?” Helen opened her mouth. Closed it again. Opened it. “But—darling—how? Without mundane medicine—”

“I don’t know, but we should ask Magnus and Alec, because it seems to me that babies just fall from the sky when they’re around. Like toddler rain.”

“Aline,” Helen said in her be serious voice.

Aline tugged at her skirt. “Do you—want a baby?”

Helen scooted close to Aline, pulling her wife’s cold hands into her lap. “My love,” she said. “I do! Of course! It’s just—I still think of us in exile, a little bit. As if we’re waiting for our real life to truly start up again. I know it’s not logical. . . .”

“Wait a second,” Magnus said. “Does this mean Max is turning into a tiny little demon? Do you know how many preschool waiting lists he’s on? He’ll never get into the Little Red School House now.”

Aline threw a lamp. No one was expecting it, and the result was quite spectacular: It shattered against one of the dormer windows, and pieces of ceramic flew everywhere.

She stood up, dusting off her hands. “Everyone, BE QUIET AND LISTEN TO MY WIFE.”