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  Table of Contents

Son of the Dawn

Bandage Long Shadows excerpt

Ghosts of the Shadow Marketplace

one.

Son of the Dawn

past Cassandra Clare and Sarah Rees Brennan

ii.

Cast Long Shadows

by Cassandra Clare and Sarah Rees Brennan

three.

Every Exquisite Affair

by Cassandra Clare and Maureen Johnson

4

Learn Well-nigh Loss

past Cassandra Clare and Kelly Link

5.

A Deeper Love

by Cassandra Clare and Maureen Johnson

vi

The Wicked Ones

by Cassandra Clare and Robin Wasserman

7

Through Claret, Through Fire

by Cassandra Clare and Robin Wasserman

8

The Land I Lost

by Cassandra Clare and Sarah Rees Brennan

The Shadowhunter Chronicles

The Mortal Instruments

Metropolis of Bones

City of Ashes

Urban center of Drinking glass

Urban center of Fallen Angels

City of Lost Souls

Urban center of Heavenly Fire

The Infernal Devices

Clockwork Angel

Clockwork Prince

Clockwork Princess

The Dark Artifices

Lady Midnight

Lord of Shadows

Queen of Air and Darkness (forthcoming)

The Eldest Curses (with Wesley Chu; forthcoming)

The Red Scrolls of Magic

The Lost Volume of the White

The Eldest Curses 3

The Last Hours (forthcoming)

Chain of Aureate

Concatenation of Iron

The Last Hours iii

The Shadowhunter's Codex (with Joshua Lewis)

The Blight Chronicles (with Sarah Rees Brennan & Maureen Johnson)

Tales From the Shadowhunter Academy (with Sarah Rees Brennan, Maureen Johnson & Robin Wasserman)

A History of Notable Shadowhunters and Citizenry of Downworld (illustrated by Cassandra Jean)

Also past Cassandra Clare

The Magisterium Series (written with Holly Blackness)

The Iron Trial

The Copper Gauntlet

The Bronze Key

The Silver Mask

The Golden Tower (forthcoming)

This is a piece of work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the writer's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes simply and should non exist relied on for accurateness or replicated as they may consequence in injury.

Showtime published in Uk 2018 past Walker Books Ltd

87 Vauxhall Walk, London SE11 5HJ

"Son of the Dawn" copyright © 2018 Cassandra Claire, LLC

"Cast Long Shadows" copyright © 2018 Cassandra Claire, LLC

"Non for Humans" © 2013 Cassandra Claire, LLC and Holly Black

Cover and series analogy © 2018 Davood Diba

The correct of Cassandra Clare to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

This book has been typeset in Dolly Pro and Pterra

All rights reserved. No part of this book may exist reproduced, transmitted or stored in an information retrieval system in any course or by whatsoever ways, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, taping and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:

a catalogue record for this volume is available from the British Library

ISBN 978-1-4063-8370-half dozen (ePub)

ISBN 978-one-4063-8371-three (PDF)

www.walker.co.uk

Son of the Dawn

New York City, 2000

Every globe contains other worlds inside information technology. People wander through all the worlds they tin detect, searching for their homes.

Some humans thought their world was the only world at that place was. Lilliputian did they know of other worlds as close to their ain as a room, or the demons trying to observe a door through to them, and the Shadowhunters who barred those doors. Still less did they know of the Downworld, the community of magical creatures who shared their world and carved out their own little space therein.

Every customs needs a heart. In that location had to exist a mutual area where everyone could gather, to trade for goods and secrets, to find beloved and riches. There were Shadow Markets, where Downworlders and those with the Sight met, all over the globe. Normally they were held outside.

Even magic was a little unlike in New York.

The abased theater on Canal Street had stood since the 1920s, silent witness to but not part of the blaze of activeness that was the city. Humans who did not have the Sight passed by its terracotta façade in a hurry near their own diplomacy. If they spared the theater a look, they thought it as dark and still as ever.

They could non see the brume of faerie calorie-free that turned the gutted amphitheater and blank concrete halls to gold. Brother Zachariah could.

He walked, a brute of silence and darkness, through halls with sunshine yellow tiles, panels of gold and red blazing on the ceiling in a higher place him. At that place were busts grimy with historic period set in alcoves along the walls, but for this night faeries had coaxed flowers and ivy to twine around them. Werewolves had set piddling twinkling charms depicting the moon and stars in the boarded windows, lending brightness to the rust-covered red curtains still hanging in the arched frames. There were lamps with casements that reminded Blood brother Zachariah of a time long agone, when he and all the world had been different. In one vast echoing theater room there hung a chandelier that had not worked in years, but this evening warlock magic had encompassed each seedling with a different-colored flame. Like burning jewels, amethyst and cherry, sapphire and opal, their lite created a individual globe that seemed both new and old, and restored the theater to all its former glory. Some worlds merely lasted ane night.

If the Market had the power to lend him warmth and illumination for only a night, Brother Zachariah would take taken it.

A persistent faerie woman had tried to sell him a love charm iv times. Zachariah wished such a charm would piece of work on him. Creatures as inhuman as he did not sleep, but sometimes he lay down and rested, hoping for something similar peace. It never came. He spent his long nights feeling dearest slip through his fingers, more than a memory by now than a feeling.

Brother Zachariah did non belong to the Downworld. He was a Shadowhunter, and not only a Shadowhunter but one of the cloaked and hooded alliance dedicated to cabalistic secrets and the dead, sworn and runed to silence and withdrawal from whatever world. Even his ain kind often feared the Silent Brothers, and Downworlders ordinarily avoided any Shadowhunter, simply the Downworlders were used to the presence of this detail Shadowhunter at Markets now. Brother Zachariah had been coming to Shadow Markets for a hundred years, on a long quest that even he had begun to believe would be fruitless. Yet he continued searching. Brother Zachariah had footling enough, but 1 thing he did have was fourth dimension, and he had ever tried to exist patient.

Tonight, though, he had already been disappointed. The warlock Ragnor Fell had no word for him. None of his few other contacts, painstakingly gathered over the decades, had attended this Marketplace. He was lingering not because he was enjoying this Shadow Market, but considering he remembered enjoying Markets in one case.

They had felt like an escape, but Brother Zachariah hardly remembered th

e wish to escape from the City of Bones, where he belonged. Always in the back of his mind, cold as a tide waiting to wash all other things away, were the voices of his brothers.

They were urging him dwelling.

Brother Zachariah turned under the glitter of diamond-paned windows. He was leaving the Market, making his way through the laughing, bargaining oversupply, when he heard a woman's voice saying his name.

"Tell me again why nosotros desire this Brother Zachariah. The normal Nephilim are bad enough. Angel in the veins, stick up the butts, and I bet with Silent Brothers it'south a whole staff. Nosotros definitely can't take him out for karaoke."

The woman was speaking in English, but a boy'due south vocalization replied to her in Spanish: "Quiet. I run across him."

It was a pair of vampires, and as he turned, the boy lifted a hand to attract Zachariah's attention. The vampire with his hand upwards looked 15 years one-time at most, and the other like a young woman about 19, but that told Zachariah cipher. Zachariah still looked immature too.

It was unusual for a strange Downworlder to want his attending.

"Blood brother Zachariah?" asked the boy. "I came here to run across you."

The woman whistled. "Now I see why we might want him. Helloooo, Blood brother Mackariah."

Did y'all? Brother Zachariah asked the boy. He felt what would once have been surprise, and now was at least intrigue. Can I be of any apply to you lot?

"I certainly hope so," said the vampire. "I am Raphael Santiago, 2nd in command of the New York clan, and I dislike useless people."

The woman waved her hand. "I'm Lily Chen. He'southward always this way."

Blood brother Zachariah studied the pair with new involvement. The woman had hair streaked neon yellow and wore a cherry-red qipao that suited her, and despite her own remark she was grin at her companion's words. The boy'south hair was curly, his face up sweet, and his air disdainful. At that place was a burn scar at the base of his pharynx, where a cantankerous might lie.

I believe we have a mutual friend, said Brother Zachariah.

"I don't think so," said Raphael Santiago. "I don't have friends."

"Oh, thank you very much," said the woman at his side.

"You, Lily," said Raphael coldly, "are my subordinate." He turned back to Brother Zachariah. "I presume y'all refer to the warlock Magnus Bane. He is a colleague who always has more dealings with Shadowhunters than I corroborate of."

Zachariah wondered if Lily spoke Mandarin. The Silent Brothers, speaking mind to mind, had no need for language, but sometimes Zachariah missed his. There had been nights—in the Silent City it was e'er night—when he could non remember his own proper noun, but he could recollect the sound of his mother or his father or his betrothed speaking Mandarin. His betrothed had learned some of the language for him, in the time when he had idea he would alive to marry her. He would not have minded talking with Lily longer, but he did not particularly similar her companion's mental attitude.

Since you practise not appear to care for Shadowhunters, and yous have little interest in our mutual connectedness, Brother Zachariah observed, why approach me?

"I wished to talk to a Shadowhunter," said Raphael.

Why non go to your Establish?

Raphael's lips curled back from his fangs in a sneer. Nobody sneered like a vampire, and this vampire was especially proficient. "My Institute, as y'all call it, belongs to people who are … how do I put this tactfully … bigots and murderers."

A faerie selling ribbons with glamour twined in them passed by, trailing blue and purple banners.

The way y'all put that was not particularly tactful, Blood brother Zachariah felt leap to point out.

"No," said Raphael thoughtfully. "I am non gifted in that arena. New York has always been a place of heightened Downworlder activeness. The lights of this city work on people as if nosotros are all werewolves howling for an electrical moon. A warlock tried to destroy the world here one time, before my fourth dimension. The leader of my clan made a disastrous experiment with drugs here, against my communication, and made the city her slaughter ground. The werewolves' fatal struggles for leadership are far more frequent in New York than anywhere else. The Whitelaws of the New York Institute understood united states of america, and we them. The Whitelaws died defending Downworlders from the people who at present occupy their Institute. Of course the Clave did not consult us when they made us the penalization of the Lightwoods. We do non have any dealings with the New York Constitute now."

Raphael's voice was uncompromising, and Brother Zachariah thought he should be concerned. He had fought in the Uprising when a band of renegade youths rose up against their ain leaders, and against peace with the Downworld. He had been told the story of Valentine'south Circle hunting werewolves in New York City, and the Whitelaws getting in their mode, resulting in a tragedy that even that group of angry Downworlder-hating youths had not intended. He had not canonical of the Lightwoods and Hodge Starkweather being banished to the New York Institute, but the word was that the Lightwoods had settled down with their three children and were truly remorseful for their past actions.

The hurting and power struggles of the globe seemed very far abroad, in the Silent City.

Information technology had non occurred to Zachariah that the Downworlders would resent the Lightwoods so much they might decline their assistance even when Shadowhunter assistance was truly needed. Perchance it should have.

Downworlders and Shadowhunters have a long, complicated history full of hurting, and much of the pain has been the fault of the Nephilim, Blood brother Zachariah admitted. Still through the ages, they have found a way to work together. I know that when they followed Valentine Morgenstern, the Lightwoods did terrible things, but if they are truly repentant, could you non forgive them?

"Existence a damned soul, I have no moral objection to the Lightwoods," said Raphael in deeply moralistic tones. "I do have stiff objections to my head being cut off. Given the least excuse, the Lightwoods would lay waste to my clan."

The merely adult female Zachariah had ever loved was a warlock. He had seen her weep over the Circle and its furnishings. Brother Zachariah had no reason to support the Lightwoods, simply anybody deserved a second risk if they wanted that chance enough.

And one of Robert Lightwood's ancestors had been a woman called Cecily Herondale.

Say they would not, suggested Blood brother Zachariah. Would information technology not be preferable to reestablish relations with the Institute rather than promise to take hold of a Silent Blood brother at the Shadow Market?

"Of grade it would," said Raphael. "I fully recognize this is not an ideal situation. This is not the kickoff stratagem I take been forced to use when I required an audition with Shadowhunters. Five years ago I had java with a visiting Ashdown."

He and his companion shared a shudder of distaste.

"I absolutely hate the Ashdowns," remarked Lily. "They are then dull. I believe that if I fed on ane of them I would nod off halfway through."

Raphael gave her a warning look.

"Not that I would ever dream of nonconsensually drinking the blood of whatsoever Shadowhunter, considering it would violate the Accords!" Lily informed Brother Zachariah in a loud voice. "The Accords are deeply important to me."

Raphael shut his eyes, a briefly pained expression crossing his face, only after an instant he opened them and nodded.

"So how about information technology, Brother Lipsmackariah, will you lot assistance us out?" Lily asked brightly.

A cold weight of disapproval fabricated itself known from his silent brethren, similar stones beingness pressed against his mind. Zachariah was immune a great deal of latitude for a Silent Brother, but his frequent visits to the Shadow Markets and his annual coming together with a lady on Blackfriars Bridge were already testing the limits of what could be allowed.

If he began consorting with Downworlders on issues that could be handled perfectly well past an Institute, Brother Zachariah's privileges were in danger of being suspended.

He could not take chances missing that meeting. Anything but that.

The Silent Brothers are forbidden to interfere with the affairs of the exterior world. Whatever y

our problem is, said Brother Zachariah, I strongly urge yous to consult with your Institute.

He bowed his head and began to plow away.

"My problem is werewolves smuggling yin fen into New York," Raphael called after him. "Ever heard of yin fen?"

The bells and songs of the Shadow Market seemed to go quiet.

Brother Zachariah turned sharply back to the two vampires. Raphael Santiago stared at him with glittering eyes which left Brother Zachariah in no doubt that Raphael knew a proficient bargain almost Zachariah's own history.

"Ah," said the vampire. "I see yous take."

Zachariah normally tried to preserve memories of his mortal life, but now he had to brand an effort to blackball the intruding horror of waking up as a child with all he loved dead, and silver fire burning in his veins.

Where did yous hear most the yin fen?

"I don't intend to tell you," said Raphael. "Nor do I intend to permit that stuff exist freely available in my metropolis. A large quantity of yin fen is on its way to the city, on board a ship conveying cargo from Shanghai, Ho Chi Minh, Vienna, and Idris itself. The ship unloads at the New York Rider Send Terminal. Will yous help me or non?"

Raphael had already mentioned the leader of his clan performing disastrous experiments with drugs. Zachariah's approximate was that many potential customers amidst the Downworld were talking nearly the shipment of yin fen at the Market. The fact a Downworlder with bourgeois views had heard about it was sheer luck.

I volition help yous, said Blood brother Zachariah. But we must consult with the New York Institute. If you wish I can get with you to the Establish and explain matters. The Lightwoods will appreciate the information, and you offering it. This is an opportunity to improve relations between the Institute and all the Downworlders in New York.

Raphael did not look convinced, merely after a moment he nodded.

"Yous will go with me?" he asked. "Yous will not neglect? They would not listen to a vampire, but I suppose information technology is possible they volition listen to a Silent Brother."

I will practice any I can, said Brother Zachariah.

Cunning crept into Raphael'due south voice. "And if they don't help me. If they or even the Clave refuse to believe me, then what will you lot practise?"

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