Matthew Fairchild is the Consul's son and the golden-haired boy of the Nephilim. He has the love of his family and his parabatai James Herondale, and nothing to wish for, except excitement and artistry and beauty that do not seem to fit in with a warrior's way of life. Matthew gets more than he bargained for at the Shadow Market, where he commits the greatest sin of his life – something he can never tell his parabatai, or any of the honorable Shadowhunters around him.
Cast Long Shadows (Ghosts of the Shadow Market 2.) (The Shadowhunter Universe) 6 csillagozás
Tagok ajánlása: Hány éves kortól ajánlod?
Szereplők népszerűség szerint
A secret too long kept can kill a soul by inches. I watched a secret almost destroy a man once, the finest man ever made. Such a secret is like keeping treasure in a tomb. Little by little, poison eats away at the gold. By the time the door is opened, there may be nothing left but dust.
Uncle Will frequently gave dramatic readings from the book he was writing on the demon pox, which were very droll. Lucie did not show her writing around.
Beneath the arches, crosses, and rattling rails, a mundane market was held by day, the largest association of grocers in the city. By night, the market belonged to the Downworld. Vampires and werewolves, warlocks and the fey, met under the stars and under glamour that human eyes could not pierce.
They all talk about you all the time in the London Institute,” Matthew confided. “James and Lucie and Uncle Will and Aunt Tessa too.
“It is brutal,” Matthew agreed vehemently. The faerie woman looked almost sad. “You come of a brutal people, sweet child.” “Not me,” said Matthew. “I believe in art and beauty.”
James was in the window seat, his black head bent over—what a surprise!—a book. He looked up at the tap, and smiled.
“Are you unfamiliar with the concept of friendship, Carstairs? How tragic for you, though understandable on the part of everyone else in the universe.”
Bless you, my Herondales,” said Matthew grandly, scrambling up from the floor and making Lucie his bow. “I come upon an urgent errand. Tell me—be honest!—what do you think of my waistcoat?” Lucie dimpled. “Devastating.” “What Lucie said,” James agreed peacefully. “Not fantastic?” Matthew asked. “Not positively stunning?”
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