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Admin/Shadowhunter
Broj postova : 1024
Join date : 05.08.2009
Lokacija : ~The Glass City~
 | Naslov: Cookie : Infernal Devices,The Clockwork angel,no.4  sub stu 21 2009, 17:25 | |
| CC comment: From one of the middle chapters of the book, "The Conclave."
--
“You can’t be serious —” Tessa began, but broke off as the door to the
library opened, and Charlotte entered the room. She wasn’t alone. There were
at least a dozen men following her, and — Tessa saw, as they filed into the
room — two women.
Tessa gazed at them in fascination. So these were Shadowhunters — more
Shadowhunters in one place than she’d ever seen before. She stared at the
two women, remembering what Will had said about Boadicea, that women could
be warriors as well. The taller of the women had powder-white hair wound in
into a crown at the back of her head; she looked as if she were well into
her sixties, and her presence was regal. The other of the women was younger,
with dark hair and catlike eyes. The men were a mixed group, all in
carefully tailored dark clothes: the eldest of them was an elegant-looking
gentleman with an iron-gray beard and a steely gaze to match; the youngest
was a boy probably no more than a year older than Jem or Will. He was
handsome in a pretty sort of way, with delicate features, tousled brown hair
and a watchful expression.
Jem made a noise of surprise and displeasure. “Gabriel Lightwood,” he
muttered to Will, under his breath. “What’s he doing here?”
Will hadn’t moved. He was staring at the brown-haired boy with his eyebrows
raised, a faint smile playing about his lips.
“Just don’t get into a fight with him, Will,” Jem added hastily. “Not here.
That’s all I ask.”
“Rather a lot to ask, don’t you think?” Will said, without looking at Jem.
He was watching Charlotte as she ushered everyone toward the large square
table at the front of the room; she seemed to be urging everyone to settle
themselves into seats around it. “Mr. Wayland,” she was saying, “and Mr.
Harrowgate, here, by the head of the table, if you please. Aunt Callida — if
you’d just sit over there by the map —”
“And where is George?” asked the gray-haired man, with an air of brusque
politeness. “Your husband? As head of the Institute, he really ought to be
here.”
Charlotte hesitated for only a fraction of a second before plastering a
smile onto her face. “He’s on his way, Mr. Lightwood,” she said, and Tessa
realized two things — one, that the gray-haired man was most likely the
father of Gabriel Lightwood, and two, that Charlotte was lying. | |
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