For the past two months she had scoured the Vatican Library, searching for the truth behind the Blood Gospel’s last prophecy: Together, the trio must face their final quest. The shackles of Lucifer have been loosened, and his Chalice remains lost. It will take the light of all three to forge the Chalice anew and banish him again to his eternal darkness .
The skeptical part of her—that part that still struggled with the truth about strigoi and angels and miracles unfolding before her eyes—wondered if the task was even possible. To reforge some ancient chalice before Lucifer broke free of Hell?
It sounded more like an ancient myth than an act to be performed in modern times. But she was a member of the prophetic trio referenced in the Blood Gospel. The three individuals consisted of the Knight of Christ , the Warrior of Man , and the Woman of Learning . And as that learned woman, it was Erin’s supposed duty to discover the truth behind those cryptic words.
Du bist der Vogel, dessen Flügel kamen,
wenn ich erwachte in der Nacht und rief.
Nur mit den Armen rief ich, denn dein Namen
ist wie ein Abgrund, tausend Nächte tief.
Du bist der Schatten, drin ich still entschlief,
und jeden Traum ersinnt in mir dein Samen, –
du bist das Bild, ich aber bin der Rahmen,
der dich ergänzt in glänzendem Relief.
You are the bird whose wings came
when I wakened in the night and called.
Only with my arms I called, because your name
is like a chasm, a thousand nights deep.
You are the shadows in which I quietly slept,
and your seed devised in me each dream, —
you are the image, but I am the frame
that makes you stand in glittering relief.
Sie haben alle müde Münde
und helle Seelen ohne Saum.
Und eine Sehnsucht (wie nach Sünde)
geht ihnen manchmal durch den Traum.
They all have tired mouths
And luminous, illimitable souls;
And a longing (as if for sin)
Trembles at times through their dreams.
A thousand years ago, the Angel Raziel mixed his blood with the blood of men and created the race of the Nephilim. Human-angel hybrids, they walk among us, unseen but ever-present, our invisible protectors. They call themselves Shadowhunters. The Shadowhunters obey the laws set down in the Gray Book, given to them by the angel: their mandate is to protect our world from the interdimensional parasites they call demons, who travel from world to world, razing and destroying everything in their path. Theirs is also the task of keeping the peace among the warring Downworlders: the human-demon crossbreeds we know as warlocks, vampires, werewolves, and faeries. In their duties they are aided by the mysterious Silent Brothers. Their lips and eyes sewn shut, the Silent Brothers rule over the City of Bones, the necropolis below the streets of Manhattan that holds the dead bodies of slain Shadowhunters. The Silent Brothers keep the archival records of ever Shadowhunter ever born. They also watch over the Mortal Instruments, the three divine objects the Angel Raziel gave to his children. One is a sword. One is a mirror. And the last is a cup. For a thousand years, the Nephilim have protected the Mortal Instruments. But that was before the Uprising, the civil war that almost tore the Shadowhunters’ secret world apart. Though Valentine Morgenstern, the Shadowhunter who started the war, is long dead, the wounds it left behind have never healed. Fifteen years have passed since the Uprising. It’s August in New York; the streets blistering with heat. Rumors run rampant through Downworld that Valentine is back, at the head of an army of Forsaken warriors. And the Mortal Cup has gone missing…
The explorer I caught but a fleeting glimpse of.
The inviter of the untamed past your threshold
The inquisitor, unwanted, probing
The demander, wild, untamed as I
The challenger, provoking, maddening
The intrigue of my wandering soul,
The acceptant of my darkest ministrations
The vessel that held all the pain that flowed
The obsession that drove me to my knees
The light that blinded, that distracted in its purity
The confusion that forced my steps off your heavenly path
The chaos that reigned before my ultimate goal,
And the haven as I achieved it.
You were the one thing before my eyes before my death
The one hope of my hell-fated soul
The angel in the eternal struggle of my heart.
The only love, the only foe, the only equal.