Will sat where he was, gazing at the silver bowl in front of him; a white rose was floating in it, and he seemed prepared to stare at it until it went under. In the Kitchen Bridget was still singing one of her awful sad songs; the lyrics drifted in through the door: "Twas on an evening fair I went to take the air, I heard a maid making her moan; Said, 'Saw ye my father? Or ye my mother? Or saw ye my brother John? Or saw ye the lad that I love best, And his name it is Sweet William?" I may murder her, Tessa thought. Let her make a song about that.

Did you just kiss me?" Will inquired. Magnus made a slip-second decision. "No." "I thought-" "On occasion the aftereffects of the painkilling spells can result in hallucinations of the most bizarre sort." "Oh," Will said. "How peculiar.

You behave as if everything is funny to you, but you never laugh. Sometimes you smile when you think no one is paying attention.

She looked up at him with a smile. The smile broke what was left of his resistance--shattered it. He had let the walls down when he'd thought she was gone, and there was no time to build them back up.

One can give up many things for love, but one should not give up oneself.

Perhaps," he said, "we should discuss our arrangements, then.

Warlock,” he said. “I know who you are.” Magnus raised his eyebrows. “You do?” “Magnus Bane. Destroyer of the demon Marabas. Son of—” “Now,” said Magnus, quickly. “There’s no need to go into all of that.” “But there is.” The demon sounded reasonable, even amused. “If it is infernal assistance you require, why not summon your father?” Alec looked at Magnus with his mouth open.