You know that feeling

Cari lettori e lettrici,

Scusate per l’attesa! Ma sapete com’è l’estate, periodo di cialtroneria..

Ecco qui la nostra recensione.

Queen of Air and Darkness. La Regina dell’Aria e delle Tenebre.

“We have a lot of allies,” Julian said.

Emma’s gaze slid down the beach toward Magnus and Alec. “This is going to be an important night,” she said. “And it’s being shared with us. That’s not about having allies. That’s about having friends. We have a lot of friends.”

She figured he’d make a teasing retort; instead, his face softened.

“You’re right,” he said. “I guess we do.”

Questo momento ci ha scaldato il cuore. Quando Julian ed Emma finalmente liberi di amarsi senza paure e senza ostacoli si rendono conto di quante persone sono state attratte dal loro intelletto e dalla loro forza, dal loro animo buono e coraggioso, che sono state loro vicine e li hanno aiutati a salvare il mondo ancora una volta. Perché per quanto possa essere banale, l’unione fa la forza e la diversità è un valore aggiunto (soprattutto quando si tratta di aprire Portali, cavalcare costellazioni su destrieri fatati o combattere in cima a un albero armati di fionda).

I personaggi hanno subito la crescita più significativa pur all’interno di un solo libro e ci siamo ritrovate a leggere di un ingegnosissimo Julian, pronto a parlare davanti ad una folla infinita come un vero leader, una coraggiosissima Emma, sebbene lo sia sempre stata solo tra queste pagine ci siamo rese conto quanto, un indissolubile trio, quello di Cristina-Mark-Kieran, in balia di un amore così struggente da volere distruggere qualsiasi insensato limite e confine pur di stare insieme; due giovani Shadowhunter sconvolti dal dolore, Kitty mi piace chiamarli, separati da sentimenti come perdita e orgoglio e un’unitissima famiglia Blackthorn nel senso molto largo del termine, più largo del cognome che li contraddistingue: parlo di Dru che con le sue parole ha ispirato tutti, del piccolo Tavvy, di Ty, Mark, Helen, Julian ma anche Emma, Cristina, Kieran, ALINE. Insomma i personaggi hanno brillato come le stelle più luminose del firmamento. Penso a come Kieran, il soave e dolce Kieran, abbia posto fine alla crudeltà del padre con un semplice colpo al collo inferto impugnando il segno d’amore che aveva donato al suo Mark, penso a come Julian abbia vendicato la sua Livvy con un sapiente movimento di spada nel corpo di Annabel, a come la stessa Livvy, solo più matura e dilaniata dalla sofferenza, abbia fondato una Resistenza in un mondo ormai destinato all’oblio, a come Emma abbia affrontato Sebastian Morgenstern, DI NUOVO, combattendo come una leonessa per tutto ciò a cui tiene, a come Mark sia rimasto al fianco del suo adorato Kieran, incoraggiandolo anche di fronte alla morte, a come Jaime e Diego abbiano protetto la loro Lady of Roses anche a costo della vita, a come Dru abbia salvato loro il culo, a come Diana sia riuscita a superare la sua paura di urlare al mondo chi è davvero.

E poi.. voglio parlare degli eroi senza tempo. Voglio parlare di Jace, Clary, Alec, Magnus, RAPHAEL SANTIAGITO, Tessa, Jem. Il “contorno” che non è affatto un contorno perché tutti loro anche in una saga che non è la loro bruciano come il fuoco celeste che alla fine, bene o male, riesce a trovare una soluzione a tutto.

Cassie ci regala un’altra avventura intensa, lunga, ricca fin dalle prime pagine. Che la prima parte del libro finisca con la morte del Re Unseelie è una bella sorpresa, così come la scelta di creare nel corso di questa trilogia un personaggio, Ash (che in questa trilogia è più vittima e aiutante che nemico) discendente diretto di Valentine Morgenstern, che si starà a tratti divertendo a tratti rivoltando nella tomba a causa dei geni fatati del nipotino.

Idea brillante che ci ha quasi accecate, così come l’idea di spedire Emma e Julian in un mondo parallelo (una conferma al concetto di multiverso che il nostro ultimo Peter Parker adorerebbe) che è finito nel peggior stato possibile di morte e distruzione, in cui Cassie ha avuto la possibilità di sfogarsi uccidendo perfino la protagonista assoluta di The Mortal Instruments. In cui ha fatto morire i Malec quasi come Romeo e Giulietta e ovviamente non ha risparmiato i Blackthorn.

La parte a Thule è grandiosa con le sue atmosfere cupe, colori sanguigni, incontri fatidici e conquistate vendette.

‘Lady Vengeance’ ci ha avvinte e deluse allo stesso tempo. La caotica battaglia, sicuramente non facile da gestire, è riuscita. La mancata resurrezione di Livvy è stata a dir poco straziante, considerate anche le conseguenze che ha avuto su Kit e Ty, nella mia mente già avviati verso una travolgente storia d’amore che però ha incontrato, giustamente, il muro di dolore e lutto di Tiberius. La confessione di Kit è stata inaspettata in quel momento, evidentemente anche per lui stesso e il risultato che ha portato al suo allontanamento ci ha lasciato, ben giocato, una tremenda voglia e aspettative per The Wicked Powers (la trilogia con protagonisti Ty e Kit programmata dopo TLH).

La parte deludente è stata il modo in cui si è deciso di risolvere il dilemma d’amore di Julian e Emma: troppo comodo ricorrere ancora una volta al fuoco celeste che, ricordiamo, ha in precedenza liberato Jem dallo stato di Fratello Silente e salvato Jace dal controllo di Sebastian. Una soluzione quindi forse troppo ideale, troppo clemente, considerate le alternative.

La ciliegina sulla torta è stata il matrimonio dei Malec. Credo di non aver mai letto una proposta di matrimonio più romantica e commovente.

Alla fine di questa trilogia Idris è persa ma Alexander Lightwood è il nuovo Console (sempre sia lodato) e Diego un possibile nuovo Inquisitore: si sta in una botte di ferro, se non fosse per la simpatica Regina Seelie. Ci fosse un giorno in cui si prende una vacanza dall’essere una stronza rompighiande seriale. Purtroppo però ce la dobbiamo tenere così e in più adesso abbiamo due Jace in circolazione, un po’ come sette Alec per Magnus.. anzi, forse un po’ più preoccupante. Insomma, The Wicked Powers è lontano ma siamo sicure che ci sarà da divertirsi..

This moment stroke us with warmth. When Emma and Julian, finally free to love each other without fear, realize how many people are attracted to their intellect and strength, to their gentle and brave spirit, how many have been close to them and have helped them save the world once again. It could be trivial but together we are stronger and diversity makes us even more so (especially when you have to open Portals, ride through constellations on fairy steeds or fight top of a tree with a sling).

The characters have grown the most in this one book and we found ourselves reading about an extraordinarily cunning Julian, ready to talk in front of such an infinite crowd like a true leader, a breathtakingly brave Emma, though she had always been only thanks to these pages we realized how much, an indissoluble trio, the Cristina-Mark-Kieran trio, swept away by such a heart wrenching love that they are ready to break any senseless limit or bound so that they can be together; two young Shadowhunters broken by grief, ‘Kitty’ I love to call them, separated by loss and pride and the most united Blackthorn family in the widest form of the term, even wider than that last name: we’re talking about Dru, whose words inspired everyone, about Tavvy, Ty, Mark, Helen, Julian but also Emma, Cristina, Kieran, ALINE. Well, I can confidently say these characters have shone like the brightest stars of the firmament. I’m thinking about Kieran, the disobliging and sweet Kieran, who put an end to his father’s cruelty with a single blow to the neck brandishing the gift he had given his beloved Mark, I’m thinking about how Julian avenged his Livvy with a masterly swing of his sword through Annabel’s body, about how the same Livvy, mature and torn by pain, built a Resistance in a doomed world, how Emma fought Sebastian Morgenstern, AGAIN, fighting like a lioness for everything she cares about, how Mark stick to his beloved Kieran’s side, encouraging him even in the face of death, how Jaime and Diego protected their Lady of Roses to the point of risking their lives, how Dru saved the above mentioned men’s asses, how Diana overcame her fear of screaming her true self to the world.

And then.. We want to talk about the timeless heroes. We want to talk about Jace, Clary, Alec, Magnus, RAPHAEL SANTIAGITO, Tessa, Jem. The ‘side dish’ which is not a side dish at all because all of them, even in a trilogy that isn’t their own, burn like heavenly fire that, one way or another, solves everything. Cassie gifts us with another long, intense, rich adventure from the very first page.

The first part of the book that ends with the death of the Unseelie King is as surprising as Ash’s origins and future role he’ll play in the story, considering the one he had in this trilogy, victim and helper. Surprising is his direct parentage with Valentine Morgenstern, who’s probably having a lot of fun and revolting in his own grave at the same time because of his nephew’s fey genes.

Another brilliant idea that almost blinded us was sending Emma and Julian in a parallel world (a confirmation of the multiverse concept that our latest Peter Parker would love) that’s full of death and destruction, which Cassie got the chance to take it out on by killing The Mortal Instruments’ absolute protagonist and many others. Where she killed Magnus and Alec almost like Shakespeare killed Romeo and Juliet and obviously didn’t spare the whole Blackthorn family.

‘Thule’ is magnificent with its dark atmosphere, bloody colours, fateful encounters and achieved revenge.

‘Lady Vengeance’ won us over and disappointed us at the same time. The chaotic battle, surely not easy to write, is successful. Livvy’s missed resurrection (and ghost summon) is definitely painful and heartbreaking, also considering the consequences it had on Kit and Ty, whose relationship in my mind was already headed toward a passionate love story that slammed, fairly, against Tiberius’ wall of grief and pain. Kit’s confession was unexpected in that moment, even form himself apparently and the result was bringing them apart, well played, because now we are even more eager to read The Wicked Powers (the trilogy about Kit and Ty scheduled to come out after TLH).

The disappointing part in ‘Lady Vengeance’ was the way Emma and Julian’s love dilemma was resolved: too convenient resorting once again to the heavenly fire that previously, a reminder, freed Jem from the Brotherhood and Jace from Sebastian’s mind control. A solution that was maybe too ideal, too perfect, too lenient to satisfy us, considering the other terrible options.

Malec’s wedding was the cherry on top. The long awaited proposal moved us and surprised us, so romantic, so perfect! It probably was one of the most celebrated moment in the Shadowhunters fandom.

At the end of this addictive trilogy, Idris is lost But Alexander Lightwood is the new Consul (always be praised) and Diego a possible new Inquisitor: we are sitting pretty, free and clear if it wasn’t for the (nice) Seelie Queen. May a day come when she finally goes on vacation from being a total pain in the acorn bitch. Unfortunately this fact won’t change very soon and we also have two Jace to think about, that’s basically like for Magnus having seven Alec... maybe a bit more troubling.

In any case, The Wicked Powers is still far away but we’re sure the fun won’t lack.

“You asked for art supplies?” she whispered.

Julian looked down at his hands. “All this time, since the spell, I’ve been walking around missing the whole center of myself, but the thing is— I didn’t even notice. Not consciously. But I felt it. I was living in black and white and now the color is back.” He exhaled. “I’m saying it all wrong.”

“No,” Emma said. “I think I get it. You mean that the part of you that feels is also the part of you that creates things.”

“They always say faeries steal human children because they can’t make art or music of their own. Neither can warlocks or vampires. It requires mortality to make art. The knowledge of death, of things limited. There is fire inside us, Emma, and as it blazes, it burns us, and the burning causes pain— but without its light, I cannot see to draw.”

“Then draw now,” she said, her voice husky. She pressed several pencils into his open hand and began to turn away.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t burden you.”

“You’re not burdening me,” she said, still facing away. “You’re reminding me why I love you.”

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 421

Pure poetry.

Julian’s chest turned to ice. He imagined he was still breathing, he must be or he’d die, but he couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel the blood in his body or the pulse of his breath or the beat of his heart. He only saw her, appearing from between two cars: she walked toward them casually, her long dark Blackthorn hair blowing in the wind off the sea.

Livvy.

She looked about seventeen. She wore black leather pants with a bullet belt slung around her waist and a gray tank top with holes in it over a mesh shirt. Her boots were thick-soiled with a dozen buckles. On her wrists were D-ring canvas bracelets with short throwing knives shoved under the straps. A scar— one of many— cut across her face, from the top of her left temple, across her eye, to the middle of her cheek. She carried a shotgun, and as she walked toward them, she raised it effortlessly and pointed it directly at Julian.

“It’s them,” Cameron said. “Don’t know what they’re doing away from the other Endarkened.”

“Who cares?” Livvy said. “I’m gonna kill them, they’d thank me for it if they still had souls.”

Julian threw up his hands. Joy at seeing her, uncontrollable and dizzying, warred with panic. “Livvy, it’s us—”

“Don’t even try,” she spat. She pumped the shotgun expertly. “I’d tell you to pray, but the Angel is dead.”

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 399..

The Thule part blew me away. This encounter killed me and everything that happened in that world. It made me shiver all over. Reading about Livvy again, fierce and fighting, and about all the others filled my heart and broke it into a million pieces. IT WAS ABSOLUTELY GREAT.

Adaon sized up a number of swords. Jace held out his hand for one.

“Come to papa.” he crooned.

“I can’t believe you have a beard,” Emma noted, momentarily diverted.

Jace touched his bristly cheek. “Well, it has been a week, at least. I expect it makes me look manly, like a burnished god.”

“I hate it,” said Emma.

“I like it,” said Clary loyally.

“I don’t believe you,” said Emma. She stuck out her hand toward Adaon. “Give me my sword Jace can use it to shave.”

Adaon glared at all of them. “You shall bear no blades. You cannot be armed if you are meant to be prisoners. I will carry the swords.” He swung them up over his shoulder as if they were a bunch of kindling. “Now, come.” [..]

Emma moved closer to Cristina. “How did you end up finding Adaon?” she whispered. “Did you just click your ruby heels together and demand to be taken to the Unseelie King’s hottest son?”

Cristina rolled her eyes. “I saw Adaon in London, with Kieran,” she whispered. “He seemed to care about Kieran. I took a chance.”

“And how did you get to him?”

“I’ll tell you later. And he is not the hottest Unseelie prince. Kieran is the hottest,” Cristina said, and blushed beet red.

Emma eyed Adaon’s muscles, which were bunching spectacularly under his tunic as he balanced the swords. “I thought Kieran was at the Scholomance?”

Cristina sighed. “You missed a lot. I will tell you everything, if we—”

“Survive?” Emma said. “Yeah, I have a lot to tell you, too.”

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 360-361

These adorably dorky moments are what I live for. Emma and Cristina’s friendship is gold. AND I MISSED MY BOI AND GURL JACE AND CLARY SO MUCH.

“When mortals say that things will be all right, it’s not only for comfort,” he said. “In part it is because we do not, as faeries do, believe in an absolute truth. We bring our own truth to the world. Because I believe things will be all right, I will be less unhappy and afraid. And because you are angry at yourself, you believe that everything you have done, you have done out of selfishness.”

“I have been selfish,” Kieran protested. “I—”

“We are all selfish sometimes,” said Mark. “And I am not saying you have nothing to atone for. Perhaps you were a selfish prince but you were not a cruel one. You had power and you chose to use it to be kind. You have chosen the opposite. Do not dismiss the choices you made. They were not meaningless.”

“Why do you try to comfort and cheer me?” Kieran said in a dry voice, as if his throat aches. “I was angry with you when you agreed to return to your family from the Hunt— I told you none of it was real—”

“As if I did not know why you said that,” said Mark. “I heard you, in the Hunt. When they whipped you, when you were tormented, you would whisper to yourself that none of it was real. As if to say the pain was all a dream. It was a gift you meant to give me— the gift of escaping agony, of retreating into a place in your mind where you were safe.”

“I thought the Shadowhunters were cruel. I thought they would hurt you,” said Kieran. “With you, with your family, I have learned differently. I thought I loved you in the Hunt, Mark, but that was a shadow of what I feel for you now, knowing what loving-kindness you are capable of.”

The elf-bolt at his throat shone as it rose and fell with his quick breathing.

“In the Hunt, you needed me,” said Kieran. “You needed me so much I never know if you would want me, if you did not need me. Do you?”

Mark stumbled a little, moving closer to Kieran. His wrists were burning fire, but he didn’t care. He pressed close to Kieran, and Kieran’s bound hands caught at Mark’s waist, fumbling to pull Mark closer to him. His heels lifted off the ground as he leaned into Kieran, the two of them trying to get as close as possible, to comfort each other despite their bound hands.

Mark buried his face in the crook of Kieran’s neck, breathing in his familiar scen: grass and sky. Perhaps this was the last grass and sky he would ever know.

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 342..

Kieran and Mark have my heart. Kieran with his gentle soul and Mark with his incredible goodness. They don’t realize how good they are because they were forced into being Hunters and suffered all kinds of pain. But they are so unbelievably strong and pure, they deserve the world.

Julian’s eyes flashed. “You know I’ve always done whatever needed to be done to keep us safe. I thought you understood that about me.”

“This is different. Remember— Julian, remember what Dane said, that you were the kind of guy who would have a girl for a parabatai?” She knelt up on the bed, raising her chin to look him directly in the eye. “That’s what I always loved about you, even before I was in love with you. You never thought for a second about it diminishing you to have a girl as your warrior partner, you never acted as if I was anything less than your complete equal. You never for a moment made me feel like I had to be weak for you to be strong.”

He looked away. Emma pressed on: “You knew we were always stronger together. You’ve always respected my ability to make decisions for myself. But you’re not acting like that now. It’s not some small thing that you lied to me, Julian, it’s a betrayal of everything we swore in our parabatai ceremony. It’s one thing for you to not want to treat me like your girlfriend, but it’s entirely another for you to not treat me like your parabatai.”

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 221-222

I know Julian wasn’t himself after the spell but I LOVED this, I loved how Emma reproached him when he deliberately lied to her because this whole conversation is about them being parabatai and FINALLY not about them being in love.

The sky was a road and the stars made pathways; the moon was a watchtower, a lighthouse that led you home.

Being on Windspear’s back was both utterly strange and utterly familiar to Mark. So was having his arms around Kieran, and the feeling of Kieran’s body against his, the whipcord strength of him, the faint ocean-salt scent of his skin and hair, was mapped into Mark’s blood.

At the same time he could hear Cristina, hear her laughing, see her as she bent to point out landmarks flashing by beneath them. She asked Kieran if they could fly over the Hollywood sign and he had obliged; Kieran, who made a point of being disobliging.

And Mark’s heart stirred at her laugh; it stirred as he touched Kieran; he was between them again, as he had been in London, and though agitation prickled his nerves at the thought, he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t glad to have Kieran back again.

|Queen of Air and Darkness p. 206

I find that the love that binds the three of them together is the purest and most powerful and poetic force ever.

It all came so natural, it feels like they were meant to meet and find nourishment in each other. Like they are tied with a red string that reminds me so much of another trio of another time in another marvelous city... ❤️

“What’s that?” Tavvy asked, his eyes big.

“This,” said Aline. “Is a frittata. And you’re all going to eat it.” She slammed it down into a metal trivet in the center of the table.

“Don’t like frittata.” said Tavvy.

“Too bad,” said Aline, crossing her arms and glaring at each of them in turn. “You made Helen cry yesterday, so you’re going to eat this frittata— which, by the way, is goddamn delicious— and you’re going to like it. It’s what’s for breakfast, and since I’m not Helen, I don’t care if you starve or eat Cheetos for every single meal. Helen and I both have a lot of work to do, the Clave isn’t giving us an inch, all she wants is to be with you guys, and you are not going to make her cry again. Understood?”

Dru and Tavvy both nodded, wide-eyed.

“I’m very sorry, Aline,” said Cristina in a small voice.

“I didn’t mean you, Cristina.” Aline rolled her eyes. “And where’s Ty? I’m not repeating this lecture again.” She flared at Kit. “You’re the one glued to his side. Where is he?”

“Probably sleeping,” said Kit. [..]

“Fine. Tell him what I said when he wakes up. And put the frying pan in the freaking sink when you’re done with breakfast.” Aline grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair, slid her arms into the sleeves, and stalked out of the room.

Kit braced himself for either Tavvy or Dru to start to cry. Neither of them did. “That was pretty cool,” said Dru, helping herself to some frittata, which turned out to be a mixture of eggs, sausage, cheese, and caramelized onions. “I like the way she stood up for Helen.”

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 154-155

We do too, Dru. We do too.

“This is one of my favorite places.” Mark sank down onto the sand, leaning back on his hands. “The Institute and the highway are hidden and the whole worlds goes away. It’s just you and the desert.”

She sat down beside him. The sand was still warm from the sunlight it has absorbed during the day. She dug her toes in, glad she’d worn sandals. “Is this where you used to do your thinking?”

He didn’t answer. He seemed to have become absorbed in looking at his own hands; they were scarred lightly all over, calloused like any Shadowhunter’s, his Voyance time stark on his right hand.

“It’s all right,” she said. “It’s all right for you not to be able to stand the iron, or inside spaces, or closed rooms or the sight of the ocean or anything at all. Your sister just died. There is nothing you could feel that would be wrong.”

His chest hitched with an uneven breath. “What if I told you— if I told you that I am grieving for my sister, but since I five years ago decided she was dead, that all my family was dead, that I have already grieved her in a way? That my grief is different than the grief of the rest of my family, and therefore I cannot talk to them about it? I lost her and then I gained her and lost her again. It is more as if the having of her was a brief dream.”

“It might be that it is easier to think of it that way,” she said. “When I lost Jaime— though it is not the same—but when he disappeared, and our friendship ended, I grieved for him despite my anger, and then I began to wonder sometimes if perhaps I had dreamed him. No one else spoke of him, and I thought perhaps he had never existed.” She drew up her knees, locking her arms around them. “And then I came here, and no one knew him at all, and it was even more as if he had never been.”

Mark was looking at her now. He was silver and white in the moonlight and so beautiful to her that her heart broke a little. “He was your best friend.”

“He was going to be my parabatai.”

“So you did not just lose him,” Mark said. “You lost that Cristina. The one with a parabatai.”

“And you have lost that Mark,” she said. “The one who was Livia’s brother.”

|Queen of Air and Darkness pp. 131-132

Grief and loss can have so many shapes.

“Emma,” said a voice beside her. She turned and saw Jem Carstairs. (BLESS YOU, CASSIE)

Jem. She was too surprised to speak. Jem had been a Silent Brother once, and though he was a Carstairs, he was a very distant relative, due to being more than a century old. He looked only about twenty-five, though, and was dressed in jeans and scuffed shoes. He wore a white sweater, which she guessed was his concession to Shadowhunter funeral whites. Jem was no longer a Shadowhunter, though he had been one for many years.

“Jem,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb anyone else in the procession. “Thanks for coming.” [...]

“Did your parabatai ever pull away from you? When you, you know, wanted to talk?”

“People do strange things when they’re grieving,” said Jem gently. “I was watching from a distance, earlier. I saw Julian climb to the top of the pyre for his brother. I know how much he has always loved those children. Nothing he says or does now, in these first and worst days, is who he is. Besides,” he added, with a slight smile, “being parabatai is complicated. I hit my parabatai in the face once.”

“You did what?”

“As I said.” Jem seemed to enjoy her astonishment. “I struck my parabatai— I loved him more than anyone else in the world I’ve ever loved save Tessa, and I struck him in the face because my heart was breaking. I can hardly judge anyone else.”

|Queen of Air and Darkness pp. 67, 68, 69

There will (probably not) be a day when my eyes won’t sparkle and my heart won’t sing every time I read about Jem, but it is not this day.

He’s so full of life now that he can finally be with Tessa and so full of memories of the other person he loved more than his life and that he will always remember. I’m so excited for the baby on the way and already betting how they’ll name it (not that it leaves much to the imagination, knowing Tessa and Jem).

And I can’t wait to put my hands on the new released book Ghosts of the Shadow Market, which features Jem in most of its tales.

He saw a man come toward the Lightwoods and blinked his watering eyes. He was a young man, handsome, with curling brown hair and a square jaw. He wasn’t wearing white, like the others, but plain black gear.

As he passed Maryse he stopped and laid a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t turn or seem to notice. Neither did anyone else. Magnus glanced over quickly, frowning, but looked away again; Kit realized with a coldness in his chest that he was the only one who actually could see the young man— and that the smoke seemed to flow through the stranger, as if he were made of air.

A ghost, he thought. Like Jessamine. He looked around wildly: Surely there would be more ghosts here, in the Imperishable Fields, their dead feet leaving no traces on the grass? [...]

The young man with the dark hair had moved to kneel beside Robert Lightwood’s pyre. He was closer to the flames than any human could have gotten, and they seemed to eddy within the outline of his body, lighting eyes with fiery tears.

Parabatai, Kit thought suddenly. In the slump of the young man’s shoulders, in his outstretched hands, in the longing stamped on his face, he saw Emma and Julian, he saw Alec as he spoke about Jace; he knew he was looking at the ghost of Robert Lightwood’s parabatai. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he did.

A cruel sort of bond, he thought, that made one person out of two people, and left such devastation when half was gone.

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 66

Parabatai. A bond that makes one person out of two people. Unbreakable. Eternal. Sublime in its heartbreakingness.

💔

Rain was splashing down into the canals, turning the world to mist and water. The Inquisitor’s house loomed up out of the fog like a shadow, and Julian ran up the front steps with such force that he nearly crashed into the front door. He knocked and Magnus opened it, looking pinched and unusually pale. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans with a blue silk robe thrown over them. His hands were bare of their usual rings.

When he saw Julian, he sagged a little against the doorframe. He didn’t move or speak, just stared, as if he were looking not at Julian but at something or someone else. “Magnus,” Julian said, a little alarmed. He recalled that Magnus wasn’t well. He’d nearly forgotten it. Magnus has always seemed the same: eternal, immutable, invulnerable. “I—”

“I’m here on my own account,” Magnus said, in a low and distant voice. “I need your help. There is absolutely no one else that I can ask.”

“That’s not what I..” Julian pushed sopping-wet hair out of his eyes, his voice trailing off in realization. “You’re remembering someone.”

Magnus seemed to shake himself a little, like a dog emerging from the sea. “Another night, a different boy with blue eyes. Wet weather in London, but when was it anything else?”

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 38

Ci sarà un giorno, in cui smetterò di piangere ricordando William Herondale attraverso gli occhi di coloro che l’hanno amato profondamente, soprattutto attraverso quelli di Magnus. Ma non è questo il giorno. Grazie, Cassie.

A day may come when I will stop crying remembering William Herondale through the eyes of those who loved him dearly, especially through Magnus’. But it is not this day. Thanks, Cassie.

“You can’t fix grief” said Simon. “A rabbi told me that when my father died. The only thing that fixes grief is time, and the love of the people who care about you, and Tavvy has that.” He squeezed Mark’s shoulder briefly. “Take care of yourself,” he said. “Shelo ted’u od tza’ar, Mark Blackthorn.”

“What does that mean?” said Mark.

“It’s a blessing,” said Simon. “Something else the rabbi taught me. ‘Let it be that you should know no further sorrow.”

Mark inclined his head in gratitude; faeries knew the value of blessings freely given. But his chest felt heavy nonetheless. He could imagine the sorrows of his family would be ending soon.

|Queen of Air and Darkness, p. 16

E così ha inizio.

Di sicuro la maggior parte dei lettori condivide i sentimenti e il presentimento di Mark. Ora dobbiamo farci coraggio, dire addio alla piccola Livvy e sopportare insieme ad Emma e ai Blackthorn il dolore e le difficoltà che stanno per affrontare.

Simon Lewis era mancato a tutti, insieme alle parole di saggezza che porta, perché è proprio di una benedizione che abbiamo bisogno per procedere in questo cammino di sofferenza e perdita.

And so it begins.

Surely, the majority of you shares Mark’s feelings and foreboding. Now we have to be courageous, say goodbye to little Livvy and bear together with Emma and the Blackthorns the pain and grief and the hardships they are about to face.

Also, we all missed Simon Lewis and the words of wisdom he always carries for we surely need a blessing to keep going on this path of sorrow and loss.

Cari lettori e lettrici,  Siamo pronte a giungere al termine di questo struggente ed entusiasmante viaggio con il terzo e ultimo volume di The Dark Artifices, Queen of Air and Darkness. In Italia è uscito come Regina dell’aria e delle tenebre. 

I Blackthorn sono sconvolti dal dolore. Un pezzo di loro se n’è andato e ognuno affronta la perdita a modo suo. Il clima politico a Idris si fa sempre più rigido, la Coorte è più spietata che mai. La nuova generazione, insieme ai grandi veterani, dovrà fare i conti con le ultime ardue prove e la malvagità che dilaga in Alicante, minacciando di sgretolare i principi stessi degli Shadowhunter, e si diffonde come una piaga ad opera del Re Unseelie. Ma quale prezzo saranno costretti a pagare per salvare i Nascosti e la pace nel mondo non mondano? Noi stiamo fremendo.  Preparatevi con i commenti!  Dear readers,  We’re ready to see the end of this heartbreaking and thrilling journey with the third and last volume of The Dark Artifices, Queen of Air and Darkness. 

Lettori e lettrici, siamo di ritorno!  Ed ecco a voi la nostra recensione del secondo libro della trilogia:

Il Signore delle Ombre. 

Un chiaro epiteto riferito all’inquietante Re della Corte Unseelie che infesta la sua terra con una nebbia che priva gli Shadowhunter dei loro poteri. Un re che vuole.. che vuole? DISTRUGGERE.

Ma questo titolo potrebbe tranquillamente essere usato come epiteto del libro stesso. Tante ombre lo popolano, tanti lutti, che forse da Cassandra ci saremmo aspettati più probabilmente nel prossimo ed ultimo capitolo della trilogia. Ebbene, l’oscurità di questo libro lo rende proprio il signore delle ombre nella trilogia perché siamo costretti a dire addio ad alcuni personaggi di cui mai ci saremmo aspettate la dipartita. 

Sotto certi aspetti, ci è piaciuto più del primo. Conosciuti i personaggi, qui assistiamo alle dinamiche che li avvicinano, il trio così precocemente e crudelmente sciolto di Ty, Kit e Livvy e il dolce incontro tra Dru e Jaime, li allontanano, Kieran e Mark (solo temporaneo, sono sicura *wink*), li fanno inaspettatamente innamorare, Diana e Gwyn, li fanno cadere in un vortice di tira (forte) e molla (debolmente), sapete a chi mi riferisco, che si conclude, ovviamente.. in niente, perché manca un libro. 

Tornando a Drusilla e Jaime, è interessante anche l’incontro di Dru con il bambino fatato, dopo aver toccato il cimelio di famiglia dei Rosales lasciatole da Jaime. Ancora non ne conosciamo il significato, ma ogni sguardo, parola o sensazione ha un significato nei libri di Cassandra. 

Avvincente e vincente (Kieran è salvo grazie al cielo) l’avventura di Mark, Cristina, Emma e Julian nella Terra delle Fate ma orribili le parole pronunciate dalla bellissima Regina Seelie. Cosa sentono le mie orecchie, cosa? Rompere ogni legame parabatai mai esistito? Abbassa il tiro, Cassie, o potresti ritrovarti tra le mani una vera e propria rivoluzione alla Katniss Everdeen. Speriamo che i diretti interessati, *grida* EMMA E JULIAN, non prendano mai in considerazione questa possibilità, dopo che quella dell’esilio di Emma muore con Robert Lightwood. Simon ha sudato sette camicie per diventare parabatai di Clary,  volete gettare via così il sudore della sua fronte e delle sue ascelle? Noi no. 

Perfect Diego, se davvero vogliamo definirlo perfect, è apparso e immediatamente scomparso agli occhi di Cristina, che gli ha lanciato non più di due sguardi adirati. Di perfect c’è stato solo il modo in cui ha eseguito gli ordini di lei, portando il nostro adorato Kieran in salvo. È bravo, bravissimo, dice Ke Jian Ming, ma poteva giocarsela meglio. 

Inquietante il personaggio di Annabel Blackthorn, non solo in quanto morta vivente, ma nella furia vendicativa che la anima. Spietata, come qualcuno di nostra conoscenza, che decide di riportarla a casa, a Idris, promettendole il mondo per salvare il proprio. Sì, parliamo di Julian, “il genere di persona che sarebbe potuto scendere all’Inferno e uscirne con il Diavolo in persona che gli deve un favore”. E beh, purtroppo ora conosciamo le conseguenze della sua scelta. 

Gli eventi che concludono il volume sono chiaramente l’apoteosi delle ombre, eventi che se non eri sicuro potesse andare peggio, ti confermano che il peggio c’è sempre, in agguato, pronto a spuntare anche quando ti mancano tre pagine e pensi ‘beh, ci siamo, altro non può succedere’ e pem! si palesa in tutta la sua beffardaggine, crudeltà, funzionalità. 

Si, funzionalità, l’inevitabile conclusione a cui si arriva è che le morti di Arthur, brav’uomo, Robert, redento, e Livvy, la tenera, forte, straordinaria Livvy, siano funzionali a determinati scopi di trama e di relazioni tra personaggi.  Vogliamo parlare della Spada Mortale distrutta?! Per l’Angelo. Suona molto più funesto che rompere uno specchio. Ora mi sembra di vedere ombre più scure all’orizzonte..

Abbiamo buttato il sasso e tirato via la mano, adesso sta a voi trarne riflessione. 

Ci risentiamo per la prossima e *prende un respiro profondo* ultima recensione della trilogia. 

Dear readers, we’re back! And here we are with the second volume’s review: 

Lord of Shadows.

A clear epithet of the unsettling Unseelie King who infects his land with mist that deprives Shadowhunters of their angelic power. A king who wants.. who wants? TO DESTROY. 

But this epithet could perfectly be used to describe the book itself. Many shadows lurk in it, many deaths, that maybe we would have expected Cassie to make them happen in the next and last volume of this trilogy. Well, the darkness of this book makes it exactly the Lord of Shadows in the trilogy because we are forced to bid farewell to some characters whose light we would never have expected to burn out so soon.

In some ways we loved it more than the first one. Now that we know the characters so well, here we witness some interesting dynamics that bring them closer, the Kit-Ty-Livvy trio so precociously and cruelly dissolved and the sweetly surprising encounter between Dru and Jaime, bring them apart, Kieran and Mark (just temporarily, trust me *wink*), unexpectedly make them fall in love, Diana and Gwyn, make them fall in a whirl of push and pull, you know whom we’re talking about, which, obviously ends up.. in nothing, because we’re missing a book. Going back to Drusilla and Jaime, it’s also interesting the meeting Dru has with the fairy boy, after touching the Rosales heirloom which Jaime left her. We still don’t know its meaning, but every look, every word or sensation has a meaning in Cassandra’s books.  Compelling and rewarding (My Kieran boy is safe thank God) the squad (Mark, Cristina, Emma and Julian)’s mission in Faerie but obnoxious the words spoken by the strikingly beautiful Queen of Seelie. What are my ears hearing, what? Breaking every parabatai bond ever created? Hands low, Cassie, or you could face a Real Katniss Everdeen Revolution. We hope the people concerned, *screams* EMMA AND JULIAN, ever consider this a possibility, even now that the one including Emma’s exile has expired together with Robert Lightwood. Simon Lewis had to sweat through to become Clary’s parabatai and now you wanna throw away all his forehead and armpits’ sweat for this? We really don’t. 

Perfect Diego, if we really want to call him perfect, appeared and immediately disappeared to Cristina’s eyes, who gave him more than one angry glare. Perfect was only the way he followed her orders, taking our beloved Kieran in a safe place. He’s nice, very nice, says Ke Jian Ming, but he could have played the game a bit more skillfully. 

Annabel Blackthorn is a rather creepy character, not only as a living dead, but also for the vengeful rage that animates her. Ruthless, as ruthless as someone we know, that decided to bring her back home, to Idris, promising her the world to save his own. Yeah, we’re talking about Julian, “the kind of person who could descend into Hell and come out with the devil himself owing him a favor”. And unfortunately now we know what are the consequences of that decision. 

The events that wrap the volume are clearly the shadows crowning moment, events that if you weren’t sure it could go any worse, they prove you the worse is always beyond the next corner, lurking, ready to come out when you’re three pages to go and think ‘well, here we are, nothing more can happen’ and boom! here it is, the mocking, cruel, functional worst.

Functional, yeah, the undeniable conclusion is that Arthur’s, the good man, Robert’s, the redeemed, and Livvy’s, the gentle, strong, amazing Livvy, deaths are functional to certain plot goals and characters’ relationships.  Also the Mortal Sword shuttered?! By the angel, man. Sounds far more unfortunate than shattering a mirror. Now I think I can see darker shadows in the distance.. 

“Cortana” he said. “Made by Wayland the Smith, the legendary forger of Excalibur and Durendal. Said to choose its bearer. When Ogier raised it to slay the son of Charlemagne on the field, an angel came and broke the sword and said to him ‘Mercy is better than revenge’.” [...]

“But Cortana has never been broken.” Emma said.

“It’s only a story.” Julian said.

“There is truth in stories,” said Arthur.

“There is truth in one of your paintings, boy, or in a sunset or a couplet from Homer. Fiction is truth, even if it is not fact. If you believe only in facts and forget stories, your brain will live, but your heart will die.”

| Lord of Shadows pp. 116-117

The wisdom of a broken man.