Not Your Parabatai Any Longer.

Will Has Always Been The Brighter Burning Star, The One To Catch Attention — But Jem Is A Steady Flame, Unwavering And Honest. He Could Make You Happy.

He Looked Back At Her, And When She Saw The Look On His Face, She Saw His Eyes At Renwick’s, When He Had Watched The Portal That Separated Him From His Home Shatter Into A Thousand Irretrievable Pieces. He Held Her Gaze For A Split Second, Then Looked Away From Her, The Muscles In His Throat Working.

Staring At Him The Way She Might Stare At A Beloved Place She Was Not Sure She Would Ever See Again, Trying To Commit The Details To Memory, To Paint Them On The Backs Of Her Eyelids That She Might See It When She Shut Her Eyes To Sleep.

Looking For An Entirely Reliable Informant Is Like Looking For A Chaste Mistress.

And Indeed It Was, The Arrow Still Protruding From Its Wet, Grayish Skin, Humping Its Body Along With Incredible Speed. A Flick Of Its Tail Caught The Edge Of A Statue, Sending It Flying Into The Dry Ornamental Pool, Where It Shattered Into Dust. “by The Angel, It Just Crushed Sophocles,” Noted Will. “has No One Respect For The Classics These Days?