The highly anticipated book will launch a new fantasy series this fall.
Sword Catcherfollows Kel, an orphan who is the body double to Prince Conor Aurelian of Castellane.
Kel has one job as the Sword Catcher: to die for Conor.
Sharona Jacobs; Random House Worlds
Then there’s Lin Caster, a member of the magical Ashkar community.
And when her best friend needs saving, Lin requires access to forbidden knowledge.
Will their discoveries plunge Castellane into war?
Excerpt from Sword Catcher, by Cassandra Clare
There was a slight commotion at the door.
Kel looked up to a swirl of Castelguards outside, like an incursion of flames.
In their midst was a boy, who passed through the door and closed it firmly behind him.
Bensimon straightened up; he did not seem surprised.
“Prince Conor.”
Kel felt his stomach drop.
Here was the boy he’d been impersonating.
A boy who had clearly never been sick.
He gathered, now, that it had all been a testand that this was somehow the final part.
The Crown Prince was all in steel blue, just like Kel.
He was not wearing a circlet, but Kel would have known him for a prince regardless.
It was strange to want something you had never known you wanted.
Kel just nodded, as if to say that it was all fine.
Conor tilted his head to the side, like a curious robin.
“Leave us, Mayesh,” he said.
“I would talk to Kel alone.”
Kel rather expected the Counselor to put up a fight.
Instead, Mayesh Bensimon seemed to be hiding a smile.
When he was gone, Kel rather missed him.
Bensimon was the person he had known longest in the Palace.
Prince Conor, though Kel had spent the night pretending to be him, was a stranger.
“Do you like weapons?”
“I could give you a dagger, if you liked.”
“To do what with?”
Kel asked, suspiciously.
“I don’t know what you like, you see,” he said.
“I’m trying to think how to convince you to stay.”
In the Palace?"
Conor sat down on the edge of the smaller bed.
“My father fostered in the kingdom of Malgasi,” he said.
“They have a tradition there.
When a prince turns ten years old, he is given a sort ofbodyguard.Kiralar,they call him.
He is meant to stand in for the prince, toto protect him from danger.
He learns to walk and talk like him, to dress like him.
He is made to look like him.”
“Made to look like him?”
“Talismans, charms.
Posy-drops to change the color of his eyes.”
There is no point not being.
You would find out, eventually."
“You want me,” Kel said, slowly, “to be your Sword Catcher?”
“My father could order you, but I do not want someone reluctant.
I want someone whowantsto do it.
And not someone torn from their family, either.
That is whyyou are from an orphanage?”
He was too stunned to speak.
“That is good.
Jolivet did not lie to me, at least.”
He looked at Kel.
“What do you think?”
“I think,” Kel said, “that it sounds dangerous, and probably difficult.
I think if you are looking for someone whowantsto do it, that may also be difficult.”
“As you say.”
He looked deflated, which brought home the peculiarity of the situation.
“Well, you couldtryto convince me,” he said.
“Tell me, what about it would be good?”
Conor looked up, his eyes brightening.
He sat up straight.
“Well, you would live in the Palace.
You would have whatever you wanted, most of the time.
Within reason, but any clothes or books orwell, really anything.
If you saw it in a shop window, I would get it for you.
Unless it was a jade elephant or something else enormous.”
“That does seem impractical,” Kel said gravely, fighting a grin.
“We would learn together,” said Conor.
“Jolivet isn’t the most agreeable fellow, but he’s the best sword-trainer out there.
You would become an expert fighter.
And my tutors are teaching me everything there is to know; they would teach you, too.
Despite himself, something kindled inside Kel.
It was small and bright, a distant signal fire.
He had not expected to feel truly tempted.
“You would never be hungry,” Conor said softly.
“And you would never be lonely.
You would sleep here, beside me, and we would always be together.
And your life would be extraordinary.”
Kel leaned back against the table.Extraordinary.He knew the wordfrom lessons, mostly.
Conor leaned forward in excitement.
“You would meet royalty from all over, people descended from famous heroes.
You would watch the greatest dancers dance, hear the best musicians.
You would see things hardly anyone ever sees.
You would travel the whole world.”
He thought of the marbles they used to weight down their map in the endless game of where-do-you-want-to-go.
They had both always known they would never see those distant lands.
“See the world,” he said.
“Most of the time you won’t be pretending to be me.
You’ll be given another identity.
The name of a noble.
And when I become King, you stop being the Sword Catcher.
After that, you will become like Jolivet, the leader of Castellane’s finest soldiers.
And one day, you’re able to retire in honor and wealth.”
Honor sounded boring; wealth less so.
“But perhaps you had something else you wished to do?
Like becoming a merchant, or a guildmaster?”
said Conor, uncertainly.
Kel had not thought rich boys ever looked weary like that.
“I won’t keep you here against your will.
I told my father that.”
He really did need him, Kel thought in shock.
He had never been needed before.
Cas was his friend, but Cas didn’tneedhim, and neither did Sister Bonafilia or the others.
Parents needed their children, but he had never had parents.
To his own surprise, he wanted to protect this boy, the Prince of Castellane.
Wanted to stand between him and a forest of bristling flechettes.
Wanted to stare down and demolish any enemy that wished Conor Aurelian harm.
It was the first thing he hadwantedto do since he had come through the Palace gates.
Well, besides eat.
Perhaps you had something else you wished to do?
It existed to help childrenand only children.
Untrained, largely untutored, on the streets of Castellane, there would be nothing for him.
Even sailors were trained from a young age.
He took a deep breath.
“Extraordinary, you say?”
And Conor began to smile.
Excerpted from SWORD CATCHER, by Cassandra Clare.
Copyright 2023 by Cassandra Clare.
No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
