But that night, while Ty was sleeping, Livvy found herself pulled toward Dimmet Tarn again, toward the nothingness of its depths. Every time she thought of Idris, and the experiment that she and Ty would try tomorrow, she thought of her own death, of the blow that Annabel had struck. That moment of pain and dislocation. The stricken look on Julian’s face as she fled her body.

Of course Annabel wasn’t in Idris now. Annabel was dead. And of course, even if Annabel had still been alive, Livvy shouldn’t be afraid of her murderer. A Shadowhunter shouldn’t be afraid. But the thought of her own body on the cold stone of the Accords Hall, the thought of her body burnt upon a pyre, the thought of Lake Lyn, where she had returned, all of these pursued her as she sank into the blackness of Dimmet Tarn and let its nothingness hide her.

It was almost morning when at last she rose up, pearly light already sliding over the crust of snow around the tarn. And there, too, on the lip of the tarn was a small crumpled heap as if someone had dropped their hat or scarf.

Livvy drew near and saw that it was a kitten, starved and motionless. Its paws were torn by the ice, and there were marks of bright blood in the snow. Its ears were long, tipped in black, and its coat was spotted with black as well. “You poor thing,” Livvy said, and the kitten opened its eyes. It looked right at Livvy and snarled noiselessly. Then its eyes closed again.

Livvy fled back to the Scholomance, to Ty.

“Wake up, Ty!” she said. “Hurry, wake up, wake up!”

Ty sat bolt upright. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“There’s a Carpathian lynx down by Dimmet Tarn,” Livvy said. “A kitten. I think it’s dying. Hurry, Ty.”

He threw a coat over his pajamas and pulled on his boots. He bundled up a blanket in his arms. “Show me,” he said.

The kitten was still alive when they got back to Dimmet Tarn, Ty’s boots breaking through the snow with each step. He sank, sometimes, to his knees. But Livvy, of course, floated above the snow. There were advantages, sometimes, to being dead. Livvy could admit that.

You could see the small rise and fall of the lynx’s chest. Small wisps of breath rose from its black nose.

“It is going to be okay?” Livvy asked. “Will it live?”

Ty knelt down in the bank of snow beside the lynx. He began to wrap it in the blanket. “I don’t know,” he said. “But if it lives, it will be because you saved it, Livvy.”

“No,” Livvy said. “I found it. But I can’t save it. You’ll have to be the one who saves it.”

“Then we’ll both have saved it,” Ty said, and smiled at her. If Livvy had had a notebook, she would have written it down. It had been a long time since she’d seen her brother smile.

All Magnus Bane wanted was a vacation—a lavish trip across Europe with Alec Lightwood, the Shadowhunter who against all odds is finally his boyfriend. But as soon as the pair settles in Paris, an old friend arrives with news about a demon-worshipping cult called the Crimson Hand that is bent on causing chaos around the world. A cult that was apparently founded by Magnus himself. Years ago. As a joke.

Now Magnus and Alec must race across Europe to track down the Crimson Hand and its elusive new leader before the cult can cause any more damage. As if it wasn’t bad enough that their romantic getaway has been sidetracked, demons are now dogging their every step, and it is becoming harder to tell friend from foe. As their quest for answers becomes increasingly dire, Magnus and Alec will have to trust each other more than ever—even if it means revealing the secrets they’ve both been keeping. (x)

As they walked back toward the car, Magnus glanced at Alec and tossed his keys from hand to hand.

“We’ll go faster if two of us are sharing driving duties,” Alec offered hopefully.

“Ever driven stick before?”

Alec hesitated. “Can’t be harder than shooting a bow and arrow while riding a horse at a full gallop.”

“It’s definitely not,” said Magnus. “Besides, you have superhuman reflexes. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He threw Alec the keys and slid into the passenger’s seat with a smile. Alec grinned and jogged over to the driver’s seat.

Magnus suggested some practice loops in the parking lot.

“You have to lift your left foot as you’re applying gas with the right foot,” he said. Alec looked at him.

“Oh no,” he said dryly. “I have to move both feet at the same time. How can I possibly handle such demands of my agility.” He turned back, applied the gas, and was rewarded with a high-pitched screech, like a banshee in a trap. Magnus smiled but did not say anything.

Soon enough, of course, Alec was maneuvering competently enough around the lot.

“Ready to take the show on the road?” Magnus asked.

Alec only answered with a smile as he peeled out of the lot. A whoop of delight and surprise escaped from his throat as the Maserati fishtailed on the narrow street. They turned onto a straightaway and Alec punched the acceleration.

“We’re going very fast,” said Shinyun. “Why are we going so fast?”

The low friendly growl of the little red convertible filled the air. Alec glanced over to see Magnus put on his sunglasses and rest his elbow on the door as he leaned over the side and smiled at the rush of the wind across his face.

Alec was glad to be able to give Magnus a break. Also, he hadn’t realized this kind of wild, dramatic driving was a thing available to him. When he thought of cars he thought of Manhattan: far too many vehicles, not nearly enough road, chugging slowly and unhappily through the veins of the city. There, being on foot was liberation. Here in the Tuscan countryside, though, this car was its own kind of liberation, a thrilling kind. He looked over at his unbearably handsome boyfriend, hair blown back and eyes closed behind his shades. Sometimes, his life was okay. He willfully ignored the grumpy warlock ride-along in the backseat.

For the next hour, they followed the Apennines through the heart of Tuscany. To their left were sunset-soaked golden fields spanning to the horizon, and to their right were rows of stone villas on hilltops overlooking a green vineyard sea. Cypress trees whispered in the wind.

It was black night by the time they reached what Magnus said was called the Chianti mountain range. Alec didn’t look. He felt pretty confident handling the Maserati by now, but managing a stick shift along the many sharp turns while driving near the edge of a cliff in the dark was an entirely separate and existentially threatening experience.

What made the situation even more harrowing was that the headlights only bought them a few dozen feet of visibility, so all they could see were a narrow stretch of road in front, the sheer face of the mountain, and the cliff edge that led to the open sky. Only one of those options was any good.

Alec managed to downshift correctly on the first few turns, but sweat stung his eyes.

“Are you all right?” Magnus asked.

“I’m great,” Alec said quickly.

He fought demons for a living. This was driving, a thing even mundanes did without any unusual talents or sense-enhancing runes. All he had to do was focus.

He was holding on to the steering wheel too tight, and he jerked the stick every time he had to shift around a hard turn.

Alec mistimed a particularly difficult bend that sent the car veering out of control. He tried to punch the accelerator and even out but ended up hitting the brake, sending them spinning down a steep decline.

The vista before them was not a welcome sight. It meant they were going right off a cliff.

Alec threw an arm up to shield Magnus, and Magnus grabbed his arm. Alec had felt this strange connected feeling once before, on a ship in troubled waters: Magnus reaching out for him, needing his strength. He turned his hand under Magnus’s hand and linked their fingers, feeling nothing but the warm strong impulse to reach back.

The car had just skidded off the road and dipped over the side when it came to a sudden stop, the two spinning front wheels touching nothing but air and soft blue magic. It hovered for a moment and then righted itself, and rolled back onto the narrow dirt path next to the road.

“I told you we were going too fast,” said Shinyun mildly from the backseat.

Alec held on fast to Magnus’s hand, his own clasped against Magnus’s chest. A warlock’s heart beat differently from a human’s. Magnus’s heartbeat was a reassurance in the dark. Alec already knew it well.

“It’s just a tiny little cliff,” said Magnus. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

Alec and Magnus got out of the car. Magnus threw his arms out wide as if he was going to embrace the night sky. Alec walked to the cliff’s edge and looked over, whistling at the long, sheer drop down to the ravine. He looked off to the side at a small dirt trail leading to a clearing jutting out from the cliff. He beckoned to Magnus. “It’s pretty dangerous driving at night. Maybe we should stay here.”

Magnus looked around. “Just . . . here?”

“Camping could be fun,” said Alec. “We can toast marshmallows. You’d need to summon supplies from somewhere, of course.” Shinyun had climbed out of the car and was coming over to join them. “Let me guess,” she said to Magnus in flat tones. “Darling, your idea of camping is when the hotel doesn’t have a minibar.” Magnus blinked at her.

“I beat you to that joke,” Shinyun informed him.

Magnus lifted his eyes to the night sky. Alec could see the silver curve of a crescent moon reflected in the gold of his eyes. It matched the sudden curve of Magnus’s smile.

“All right,” said Magnus. “Let’s have fun.”

“Magnus Bane! I thought it was you.”

Magnus turned toward the voice. “Johnny Rook! What are you doing in Paris?”
Johnny Rook was one of the rare mundanes who had the ability to see the Shadow World. He was usually based at the Los Angeles Shadow Market.

Magnus surveyed Johnny unenthusiastically. He wore a black trench coat and sunglasses (though it was night), with short Caesar-cut dirty blond hair and five o’clock scruff. There was something slightly off about his face: Magnus had heard a rumor that Johnny had hired faeries to permanently magically enhance his features, but if it was true, Magnus felt Johnny had wasted his money. The man was also known as Rook the Crook, and he was committed to his aesthetic.

About to ask the same of you,” said Johnny, avidly curious.

“Vacation,” Magnus said noncommittally. “How is your son? Cat, is it?”

“Kit. He’s a good boy. Growing like a sprout. Quick hands, very useful in my line of work.”

“You have your child picking pockets?”

“Some of that. Some passing on trifles like keys. Some sleight of hand. All sorts. He’s multitalented.”

“Isn’t he about ten years old?” Magnus asked.

Johnny shrugged. “He’s very advanced.”

“Clearly.”

“Looking for anything special at the Market? Perhaps I can be of service.”

Magnus closed his eyes and counted to ten slowly. Against his better judgment he said casually, “What do you know about the Crimson Hand?”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Culties. Worship Asmodeus.”

Magnus’s heart gave a hard, spiky thump. “Asmodeus?”

Would he have to tell Alec that Asmodeus was his father? Alec had never asked who Magnus’s demon parent was and Magnus had no desire to tell him. Most warlocks were fathered or mothered by ordinary demons. It was Magnus’s bad luck that his father was one of Hell’s Nine Princes.

“Asmodeus?” he said again to Johnny. “Are you sure?”

The Lost World, co-written by Kelly Link:
While at the Scholomance, Ty and Livvy test the limits of Livvy’s ghostly powers, while Jem and Tessa prepare for the birth of their child.

Forever Fallen, co-written by Sarah Rees Brennan
The Jace Herondale who crossed into our world from Thule is torn between his feeling of responsibility to Ash, who is ever-increasing in power, and his desire to take back the life he lost from the Jace of our world, by force if necessary. Meanwhile, in the peaceful countryside of England, Kit Herondale struggles to adjust to a new life and a new family, and to forget Ty.

• Säsong 3B av Shadowhunters har premiär 25 februari.
• The Red Scrolls of Magic - bok 1 ur serien The Eldest Curses släpps 2 april.
• Ghosts of the Shadow Market boken med alla noveller plus två extra noveller släpps 4 juni.
• Chain of Gold - bok 1 ur serien The Last Hours släpps 19 november.

Som vanligt får ni gärna komma med förslag om vad jag skall skriva om eller om det är något som ni gärna vill veta mer om som berör Cassie, Shadowhunters eller skuggjägare i allmänhet. Tveka inte att kontakta mig antingen genom bloggen, Facebook eller e-mail. All info om detta hittar ni i menyn till höger (om ni besöker sidan via en dator).

 

Jag ser framemot ett nytt spännande skuggjägare-år tillsammans med er!

 

• Vi har fått flera bilder från Cassandra Clare och Cassandra Jeans projekt Skuggjägare & Sagor.
• Vi har fått citat från flera av Cassies kommande bokserier som t.ex. The Last Hours.
• I maj fick vi se omslaget till The Mortal Instruments: The Graphic Novel Vol. 2 - som släpptes 30 oktober.
• När Cassie hade medverkat på BookCon fick vi reda på en hel del om hennes kommande böcker och andra projekt. Ni kan läsa denna underbara artikelserie skriven av en av mina läsare Magdalena genom att klicka på länkarna:
  Cassandra Clare på BookCon: The Dark Artifices - del 1
  Cassandra Clare på BookCon: The Dark Artifices - del 2
  Cassandra Clare på BookCon: Magic & Power-panel
  Cassandra Clare på BookCon: Intervju med Epic Reads
• Magisterium 5: The Golden Tower - som Cassie skrivit tillsammans med Holly Black släpptes i september.
• Vi har fått se det supersnygga omslaget till Chain of Gold.

 

 

• Queen of Air and Darkness
• Shadowhunters säsong 3A
• Shadowhunters vinster på PCA - trots att serien lagts ned lyckades serien vinna stort.

 

Gott Nytt År alla underbara läsare!

Jag är så oerhört tacksam för att ni ytterligare ett år har följt mig och denna lilla blogg. Ni är guld värda som varje dag tittar in för att se om det finns något nytt avsnitt uppe, ni är underbara alla ni som gillar mina ibland lite knasiga inlägg, och alla ni som diskuterar Shadowhuntersavsnitt och kommer med frågor om både det ena och det andra - jag gillar er alla lika mycket. Och speciellt ni som kan stå ut med att det ibland inte kommer upp något alls på bloggen under några dagar - det är för er ALLA som jag uppdaterar bloggen med det som finns att skriva om.

 

Utan er underbara läsare skulle jag inte ha någon blogg alls. Varje år skriver jag hur mycket ni betyder för mig och det är sant. Jag har funderat på att sluta blogga om och när serien Shadowhunters läggs ned och det verkar vara under våren.

Men samtidigt tycker jag att detta är så kul - att få skriva för er. Och Cassandra Clare har ju en hel del böcker kvar att ge ut, så jag tror nog jag kommer att försöka hålla bloggen levande med Cassie- och boknyheter efter att Shadowhunters sista avsnitt visats.

 

Nu lägger vi 2018 bakom oss - ett väldigt händelserikt år för Shadowhunters. Och blickar framåt mot ett nytt år som vi ännu inte vet vad det kommer att fyllas av. Förhoppningsvis får vi underbara avsnitt av Shadowhunters och Cassandra kommer ju att släppa minst 3 böcker nästa år.

Titta in i bloggen i morgon för att se vad 2019 har att erbjuda.

 

Tills dess... Gott Nytt År!

“Perhaps you are not confused,” she said in a whisper. “But I am. You confuse me very much.”

“Cristina,” Kieran whispered. He touched her face lightly; she leaned into the warmth of his hand, and his fingers slipped across her cheek to her mouth. He outlined the shape of her lips with his fingertips, his eyes half-closed.

 

 

 

Visa det här inlägget på Instagram

Queen snippet for today: Julian's expression was nakedly vulnerable. “Unless you don’t feel that way about me anymore,” he said. “If you’d stopped loving me, I wouldn’t blame you.” “I guess that would solve our problem,” Emma said, without thinking. Julian flinched.

Ett inlägg delat av Cassie Clare (@cassieclare1) 1 Dec 2018 kl. 4:48 PST