WHO CALLS UPON THE HIGH WARLOCK?

Izzy. My sister. She told me you liked me. Liked me, liked me.”
“Liked you, liked you?” Magnus buried his grin in the cat’s fur. “Sorry. Are we twelve now? I don’t recall saying anything to Isabelle . . .

Lightwoods,” Magnus said. “They always have to have the last word.

Still I pictured having you for fifty, sixty more years. I thought I might be ready then to let you go. But it's you, and I realize now that I won't be anymore ready to lose you then than I am right now. Which is not at all.

You left me. You made a pet out of me, and then you left me. If love were food, I would have starved on the bones you gave me.

I have a feeling you're right, Sherwin.'
'Simon. My name is Simon.