Free Nothing But Shadows by Cassandra Clare Page B

on at the times when this scary world gets the scariest.”
    â€œMakes it sound like there’s someone you’d ask.”
    â€œI’d ask you, Si,” said George, with an awkward little smile. “But I know you wouldn’t ask me. I know who you would ask. And that’s okay. I’ve still got Frog Simon,” he added thoughtfully. “Though I’m not sure he’s exactly Shadowhunter material.”
    Simon laughed at the joke, as George had meant him to, smoothing over the awkward moment.
    â€œHow were the showers?”
    â€œI have one word for you, Si,” said George. “A sad, sad word. Gritty. I had to shower, though. I was gross. Our victory was amazing but hard-won. Why are Shadowhunters so bendy, Simon? Why?”
    George kept complaining about Jon Cartwright’s enthusiastic if unskilled attempts at playing baseball, but Simon was not listening.
    I know who you would ask.
    A flash of memory came to Simon, as it did sometimes, cutting like a knife. I love you, he’d told Clary. He’d said it believing he was going to die. He’d wanted those to be his last words before he died, the truest words he could speak.
    He’d been thinking all this time about his two possible lives, but he didn’t have two possible lives. He had a real life, with real memories and a real best friend. He had his childhood as it had actually been, holding hands with Clary as they crossed the street, and the last year as it had actually been, with Jace saving his life and with him saving Isabelle’s and with Clary there, Clary, always Clary.
    The other life, the so-called normal life without his best friend, was a fake. It was like a giant woven tapestry portraying his life, scenes shown in threads that were all the colors of the rainbow, except it had one color—one of the brightest colors—ripped out.
    Simon liked George, he liked all his friends at the Academy, but he was not James Herondale. He had already had friends before he came here.
    Friends to live and die for, to have entangled with every memory. The other Shadowhunters, especially Clary, were a part of him. She was the color that had been ripped out, the bright thread woven through his first memories to his last. Something was missing from the pattern of Simon’s life, without Clary, and it would never be right again, unless she was restored.
    My best friend, Simon thought. Another thing worth living in this world for, worth being a Shadowhunter for. Maybe she wouldn’t want to be his parabatai . God knew Simon was no prize. But if he got through this school, if he managed to become a Shadowhunter, he would have all the memories of his best friend back.
    He could try for the bond between Jace and Alec, between James Herondale and Matthew Fairchild. He could ask if she would perform the ritual and speak the words that told the world what was between you, and that it was unbreakable.
    He could at least ask Clary.

A new cover will be revealed each month as the Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy continue!

Continue the adventures of the Shadowhunters with Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn in
    Lady Midnight
    The first book in Cassandra Clare’s new series, The Dark Artifices.

Emma took her witchlight out of her pocket and lit it—and almost screamed out loud. Jules’s shirt was soaked with blood and worse, the healing runes she’d drawn had vanished from his skin. They weren’t working.
    â€œJules,” she said. “I have to call the Silent Brothers. They can help you. I have to.”
    His eyes screwed shut with pain. “You can’t,” he said. “You know we can’t call the Silent Brothers. They report directly to the Clave.”
    â€œSo we’ll lie to them. Say it was a routine demon patrol. I’m calling,” she said, and reached for her phone.
    â€œNo!” Julian said, forcefully enough to stop her. “Silent Brothers know when