Suddenly reminded, she clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh- Simon!" "No, I'm Jace," he said patiently. "Simon is the weaselly little one with the bad haircut and dismal fashion sense.

She had a plan. Even if it was a little insane.

Atque in pepetuum, frater, ave atque vale,” he whispered. The words of the poem had never seemed so fitting: Forever and ever, my brother, hail and farewell.

And what if I'm the one who kills him?" "My heart is your heart," he said, "My hands are your hands.

Take my hands,” Alec said. “And take my strength too. Whatever of it you can use to— to keep yourself going.

Words have the power to change us.

You swore to stay with me,” he said. “When we made our oath, as parabatai. Our souls are knit. We are one person, James.” “We are two people,” said Jem. “Two people with a covenant between us.” Will knew he sounded like a child, but he could not help it. “A covenant that says you must not go where I cannot come with you.” “Until death,” Jem replied gently. “Those are the words of the oath. ‘Until aught but death part thee and me.’ Someday, Will, I will go where none can follow me, and I think it will be sooner rather than later.