Hera Lightwood's P.O.V.

My palms are sweaty, legs giddy as streams of excitement rush and fill my lungs, my face pressed against the cool glass of the window as the taxi slows down in front of the biggest building I've ever seen. I tip my head back as far as I can, and I can just barely see the top. It must have twenty stories, maybe more. I've never seen anything like it before.

Back home, you can look out for miles in any direction and only see rolling fields, cows, and crops of corn. The center of town is made up of a few mom-and-pop shops. There’s the grocery...