Ghosts of the Shadow Market Box Set by Cassandra Clare

Author:Cassandra Clare [Clare, Cassandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781534433649
Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Land I Lost

By Cassandra Clare and Sarah Rees Brennan

New York, 2012

The sky was soft gray with evening, stars not yet out. Alec Lightwood was napping because he and his parabatai had been out fighting Croucher demons all last night, and Jace Herondale, famed among the Nephilim as a master strategist, apparently thought “about a dozen demons” was a fair estimate for “definitely thirty-seven demons.” Alec had gone around counting them out of spite.

“Give yourself a break, Should-Be-Sleeping Beauty,” Magnus had told him. “I need to make a potion, and Max is scheduled for his evening temptation.”

Alec woke in a nest of lavender-and-green silk sheets. Under the door of the bedroom, eerie silver lights played. There was a smell of sulfur, and the hiss of a demon, and the sound of beloved voices. Alec smiled against his pillow.

Just as he was about to roll out of bed, letters of fire appeared on the wall.

Alec, we need your help. For years we have searched for a family in peril and the truth behind why they are in danger. We believe we have found a lead in the Shadow Market of Buenos Aires.

But there is unrest between the Shadowhunters and Downworlders of this city. This Shadow Market is guarded like a throne room, run by a werewolf known as the Queen of the Market. She says her doors are closed to every soul associated with the Nephilim. Every soul, except for Alexander Lightwood, who she says she has need of. We need to enter the Shadow Market. Lives are at stake.

Will you open the doors for us? Will you come?

—Jem and Tessa

Alec stared at the letter for a long moment. Then he sighed, fished a sweater up from the floor, and weaved his way out of their bedroom, still half-asleep.

In their main room, Magnus stood with one elbow casually propped against their mantel, decanting a vial of turquoise liquid into a jar of black powder. His green-gold eyes were narrowed with focus. The dark worn floorboards and the woven silk rug alike were littered with their son Max’s toys. Max himself was sitting on the rug, wearing a sailor suit with elaborate navy ribbons to match his hair, tightly embracing Chairman Meow.

“You are my meow friend,” he told the Chairman solemnly, squeezing him.

“Meow,” Chairman Meow protested. He’d lived a life of torment since Max learned to walk.

The pentagram had been drawn a safe distance away from the rug. Silvery light and mist rose from within the pentagram, shrouding its inhabitant in shimmering fog. The demon’s long, writhing shadow fell dark against their green wallpaper and family pictures.

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “Ease up,” he suggested to the pentagram. “It’s like someone loaned overly enthusiastic kids a dry-ice machine for their high-school production of Demon Oklahoma! in here.”

Alec grinned. The silvery mist dissipated enough to see the demon Elyaas in the pentagram, his tentacles drooping in a sulky fashion.

“Child,” he hissed to Max. “You know not of what dark lineage you come. You are naturally inclined to evil.

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