Reichlich Zeit haben wir noch bis zum 2. Film Saphierblau, aber schon jetzt gibt es ein Teaser Poster und Film Stills.
Jetzt heißt es noch : Bis zum 14.August warten !
Jetzt heißt es noch : Bis zum 14.August warten !
Juhuu, bald ist es wieder soweit und wir dürfen Katniss & co. auf der Kinoleinwand sehen.
5.Leseprobe lesen ?
Alec quickly stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed.
Clary shook her head. “There’s more to honesty than … than an arrangement of words. They say faeries can’t lie, but you lie in your intentions, your attitude, your demeanor —”
The voices were quite clearly those of the Lightwood brothers. Tessa recognized Gideon’s lower, rougher tones as he said, “There will be a moment of reckoning, Gabriel. You can depend upon it. What will matter is where we stand when it comes.”
Gabriel replied, his voice tense, “We will stand with Father, of course. Where else?”
“You don’t know everything about him, Gabriel. You don’t know all that he has done.”
There was a silence through which Tessa could almost hear Gabriel sulking. At last he said, “If you despise Father so much, why did you ever come back from Spain?”
Gideon replied, sounding exasperated, “I came back for you —”
Sophie and Tessa had been leaning against the door, ears pressed to the wood; at that moment, the door gave way, and swung open. Both straightened hastily, Tessa hoping that no evidence of their eavesdropping appeared on their faces.
Gabriel and Gideon were standing in a patch of light at the centre of the room, facing off against each other. Tessa noticed something she had not noticed before: Gabriel, despite being the younger brother, was lankily taller than Gideon by some inches. Gideon was more muscular, broader through the shoulders. He swept a hand through his sandy hair, nodding curtly to the girls as they appeared in the doorway. “Good day, Miss Collins, Miss Gray.”
“Must he be here?” Gabriel growled to Tessa the second time he had nearly dropped a knife while handing it to her. He put a hand on her shoulder, showing her the sight line for the target she was aiming at a black circle drawn on the wall. She knew how much he would rather she were aiming at Will. “Can’t you tell him to go away?”
“Now, why would I do that?” Tessa asked reasonably. “Will is my friend, and you are someone whom I do not even like.”
She threw the knife. It missed its target by several feet, striking low in the wall near the floor.
“No, you’re still weighting the point too much—and what do you mean, you don’t like me?” Gabriel demanded.
Dear sensible Miss Gray,
I write to you on behalf of a mutual friend, one William Herondale. I know that it is his habit to come and go — most often go — from the Institute as he pleases, and that therefore it may be some time before any alarm is raised at his absence. But I ask you, as one who holds your good sense in esteem, not to assume this absence to be of the ordinary sort. I saw him myself last night and he was, to say the least, distraught when he left my residence. I have reason for concern that he might do himself an injury, and therefore I suggest that his whereabouts be sought and his safety ascertained. He is a difficult young man to like but I believe you see the good in him, as I do, Miss Gray, and that is why I humbly address my letter to you —
Your servant,
Magnus Bane
Alec dropped his witchlight. The light winked out, and he fell to his knees, scrabbling on the ground among the trash and the dirt, grit under his fingernails. At last something lit up before his eyes, and he rose to see Magnus standing before him, the witchlight in his hand. It shone and flickered with a strangely-colored light.
“It shouldn’t illuminate like that,” Alec said, automatically. “For anyone but a Shadowhunter.”
He flinched away from her, and Tessa dropped her hand, hurt. “Jem, what it is it? You don’t want me to touch you?”
“Not like that,” he flared, and then flushed even darker than before.
“Like what?” She was honestly bewildered; this was behavior she might have expected from Will, but not from Jem: this mysteriousness, this anger.
"What's going on?" It was Jace, having fought his way free of the pack of dancers. More of the shimmering stuff had gotten on him, silver drops clinging to the gold of his hair. "Clary?""Sorry," she said, getting to her feet. "I got lost in the crowd."
Maia was waiting for them in MacCarren Park, on one of the narrow paths dusted with the skeletons of fallen leaves. She wore a gray leather jacket and a soft pink hat, pulled down over her ears, from which her wildly curling hair escaped in a golden-brown halo. She waved tentatively as they neared her; the first words out of her mouth were:
“Did you hear about Luke?”
“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.
Clary vaulted up onto the counter, and flung herself from the top of it as her weapon exploded into brightness. She landed on the demon, knocking it to the ground. One of its eel-like arms snapped at her, and she sliced it off with a whipsawing motion of her blade. Black blood sprayed, burning her bare skin below her wrist cuffs. The demon looked at her with red, frightened eyes.(c)cassandraclare
“Stop,” it wheezed. “I could give you whatever you want —”
“I have everything I want,” she said, and drove her seraph blade down.