Hattie

“One by one, like shadows emerging from the mist, they appeared. The faces of the people she had loved with her heart of wildfire.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“That was when they noticed that every musician on the stage was wearing mourning black. That was when they shut up. And when the conductor raised his arms, it was not a symphony that filled the cavernous space.

It was the Song of Eyllwe.

Then Song of Fenharrow. And Melisande. And Terrasen. Each nation that had people in those labour camps.

And finally, not for pomp or triumph, but to mourn what they had become, they played the Song of Adarlan.

When the final note finished, the conductor turned to the crowd, the musicians standing with him. As one, they looked to the boxes, to all those jewels bought with the blood of a continent. And without a word, without a bow or another gesture, they walked off the stage.

The next morning, by royal decree, the theatre was shut down.

No one saw those musicians or their conductor again.”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“When your people are lying dead around you, don't come crying to me...”
― Sarah J. Maas, Heir of Fire

“Hello? This is Clary Fairchild.”

“Clary? It’s me, Emma.”

“Oh, Emma, hi! I haven’t heard from you in ages. My mom says thanks for the wedding flowers, by the way. She wanted to send a note but Luke whisked her away on a honeymoon to Tahiti.”

“Tahiti sounds nice.”

“It probably is — Jace, what are you doing with that thing? There is no way it’ll fit.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“What? No! Jace is trying to drag a trebuchet into the training room. Alec, stop helping him.”

“What’s a trebuchet?”

“It’s a huge catapult.”

“What are they going to use it for?”

“I have no idea. Alec, you’re enabling! You’re an enabler!”

“Maybe it is a bad time.”

“I doubt there’ll be a better one. Is something wrong? Is there anything I can do?”

“I think we have your cat.”

“What?”

“Your cat. Big fuzzy Blue Persian? Always looks angry? Julian says it’s your cat. He says he saw it at the New York Institute. Well, saw him. It’s a boy cat.”

“Church? You have Church? But I thought — well, we knew he was gone. We thought Brother Zachariah took him. Isabelle was annoyed, but they seemed to know each other. I’ve never seen Church actually likeanyone like that.”

“I don’t know if he likes anyone here. He bit Julian twice. Oh, wait. Julian says he likes Ty. He’s asleep on Ty’s bed.”

“How did you wind up with him?”

“Someone rang our front doorbell. Diana, she’s our tutor, went down to see what it was. Church was in a cage on the front step with a note tied to it. It said For Emma. This is Church, a longtime friend of the Carstairs. Take care of this cat and he will take care of you. —J.”

“Brother Zachariah left you a cat.”

“But I don’t even really know him. And he’s not a Silent Brother any more.”

“You may not know him, but he clearly knows you.”

“What do you think the J stands for?”

“His real name. Look, Emma, if he wants you to have Church, and you want Church, you should keep him.”

“Are you sure? The Lightwoods —“

‘They’re both standing here nodding. Well, Alec is partially trapped under a trebuchet, but he seems to be nodding.”

“Jules says we’d like to keep him. We used to have a cat named Oscar, but he died, and, well, Church seems to be good for Ty’s nightmares.”

“Oh, honey. I think, really, he’s Brother Zachariah’s cat. And if he wants you to have him, then you should.”

“Why does Brother Zachariah want to protect me? It’s like he knows me, but I don’t know why he knows me.”

“I don’t exactly know … But I know Tessa. She’s his — well, girlfriend seems not the right word for it. They’ve known each other a long, long time. I have a feeling they’re both watching over you.”

“That’s good. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”

“Emma — oh my God. The trebuchet just crashed through the floor. I have to go. Call me later.”

“But we can keep the cat?”

“You can keep the cat.”
― Cassandra Clare, Lady Midnight