Julian's mind raced. Malcolm hadn't mentioned the Unseelie King's part in all this when he'd told his version of the story to the Blackthorns. But that was hardly surprising. The King was far more powerful than Malcolm, and the warlock would have been reluctant to invoke his name. "In the Unseelie Lands, our powers are useless," said Julian. "Seraph blades don't work there, or witchlight or runes."
"Malcolm's doing," she said. "As it is in his own Lands, so the King wishes it to be all over the world, and in Idris. Shadowhunters made powerless. He would take Alicante and rule from it. Shadowhunters would become the hunted."
"I need the Black Volume, Annabel," Julian said. "To stop the King. To stop all this."
She only stared at him. "Five years ago," she said, "Malcolm spilled Shadowhunter blood trying to raise me."
Emma's parents, Julian thought.
"It woke my mind but not my body," Annabel said. "The spell had half-worked. I was in agony, you understand, half-alive and trapped beneath the earth. I screamed my pain in silence. Malcolm could not hear me. I could not move. He thought me insensible, unhearing, yet he spoke to me nonetheless."
Five years, Julian thought. For five years she had been trapped in the convergence tomb, conscious but unable to be heard, unable to speak or scream or move.
Julian shuddered.
"His voice filtered down into my tomb. He read me that poem, over and over. 'It was many and many a year ago.' " Her gaze was bleak. "He betrayed me while I lived, and again when I was dead. Death is a gift, you understand. The passing beyond pain and sorrow. He denied me that."
"I'm sorry," Julian said. The moon had started to sink in the sky. He wondered how late it was.
"Sorry," she echoed dismissively, as if the word had no meaning for her. "There will be a war," she said, "between Faerie and Shadowhunters. But that is not my concern. My concern is that you promise to no longer try to obtain the Black Volume. Let it alone, Julian Blackthorn."
He exhaled. He would have lied in a moment and promised, but he suspected a promise to someone like Annabel would hold a terrifying weight. "I can't," he said. "We need the Black Volume. I cannot tell you why, but I swear it will be kept safe and out of the hands of the King."
"I have told you what the book did to me," she said, and for the first time, she seemed animated, her cheeks flushed. "It has no use but evil use. You should not want it."
"I won't use it for evil," Julian said. That much was true, he thought.
"It cannot be used for anything else," she said. "It destroys families, people--"
"My family will be destroyed if I don't have the book."
Annabel paused. "Oh," she said. And then, more gently, "But think of what will be destroyed with this book out there, in the world. So much more. There are higher causes."
"Not to me," said Julian. The world can burn if my family lives, he thought, and was about to say it when the cottage door flew open.
Emma stood in the doorway. She was shoving her feet into unlaced boots, Cortana in her hand. Her hair was rumpled over her shoulders, but her grip on the sword was unwavering.
Her gaze sought out Julian, then found Annabel; she started, stared incredulously. He saw her mouth shape Annabel's name, as Annabel threw her hood up over her head and bolted.
Julian started after her, Emma only a second behind him. But Annabel was shockingly fast. She flew across the grass and heather-strewn slope to the edge of the cliff; with a last glance back, she flung herself into the air.
"Annabel!" Julian raced to the cliff edge, Emma at his side. He stared down into the water, hundreds of feet below, untroubled by even a ripple. Annabel had vanished.
*
They exploded back into the Institute, appearing in the library. It was like being dropped from a great height, and Kit staggered and fell back against the table, clawing at Livvy so he wouldn't drop her.
Ty had fallen to his knees and was righting himself. Kit glanced at Livvy's face--it was gray, with an eerie yellowish tinge.
"Magnus--" he gasped.
The warlock, who had landed with the ease of long practice, spun around, instantly assessing the situation. "Calm down," he said, "everything's fine," and he started to take Livvy from Kit's grasp. Kit let her go with relief--someone was going to take care of this. Magnus Bane was going to take care of this. He wouldn't let Livvy die.
It took Kit a moment to notice that there was already someone standing in the library. Someone he didn't know, who moved toward Magnus just as the warlock eased Livvy down onto the long table. It was a young man about Jace's age, with straight dark hair that looked as if he had slept on it and not bothered to brush it. He wore a washed-out sweater and jeans. He glared at Magnus. "You woke up the kids," he said.
"Alec, we have kind of an emergency here," said Magnus.
So this was Alec Lightwood. Somehow Kit had expected him to look older.
"Small children who are awake are also an emergency," said Alec. "I'm just saying."
"All right, move the furniture back," Magnus said to Ty and Kit. "I need some working space." He glanced sideways at Alec as the two younger boys moved chairs and small bookcases out of the way. "So where are the kids?"
Magnus was stripping off his coat. Alec held out his hand and caught the coat as Magnus tossed it to him, a practiced move that suggested he was used to the gesture. "I left them with a nice girl named Cristina. She said she likes children."
"You just left our children with strangers?"
"Everyone else is asleep," said Alec. "Besides, she knows lullabies. In Spanish. Rafe is in love." He glanced over at Kit again. "By the Angel, it's uncanny," he said in a sudden burst, as if he couldn't help it.
Kit felt unnerved. "What's uncanny?"
"He means you look like Jace," said Magnus. "Jace Herondale."
"My parabatai," said Alec, with love and pride.
"I know Jace," said Kit. He was looking at Ty, who was struggling to move a chair. It wasn't that it was too heavy for him, but that his hands were opening and closing at his sides, making his gestures unusually clumsy and uncoordinated. "He came out to the L.A. Institute after my--after they found out who I was."
"The legendary Lost Herondale," said Magnus. "You know, I was starting to think that was a rumor Catarina made up, like the Loch Ness Monster or the Bermuda Triangle."
"Catarina made up the Bermuda Triangle?" said Alec.
"Don't be ridiculous, Alexander. That was Ragnor." Magnus touched Livvy's arm lightly. She cried out. Ty dropped the chair he'd been struggling with and took a ragged breath.
"You're hurting her," he said. "Don't."
His voice was quiet, but in it Kit could hear steel in it, and see the boy who'd held him at knifepoint in his father's house.
Magnus leaned his hands on the table. "I'll try not to, Tiberius," he said. "But I may have to cause her pain to heal her."
Ty seemed about to answer, just as the door flew open and Mark burst in. He caught sight of Livvy, and blanched. "Livvy. Livia!"
He tried to start forward, but Alec caught at his arm. For all Alec's slenderness, he was deceptively strong. He held Mark back while blue fire sparked from Magnus's hand and he passed it down Livvy's side. The sleeve of her jacket and shirt seemed to melt away, revealing a long, ugly cut seeping yellow fluid.
Mark sucked in a breath. "What's going on?"
"Fight at the Shadow Market," Magnus said briefly. "Livia was cut with a piece of glass with orias root on it. Very poisonous, but curable." He moved his fingers over Livvy's arm; as he did, a bluish light seemed to glow under her skin, as if it were pulsing from the inside out.
"The Shadow Market?" Mark demanded. "What the hell was Livvy doing at the Shadow Market?"
Nobody answered. Kit felt as if he was shrinking inward.
"What's going on?" Ty demanded. His hands were still opening at his sides, as if he were trying to shake something off his skin. His shoulders rolled back. It was as if his worry and agitation were expressing them
selves through a silent music that made his nerves and muscles dance. "Is that blue light normal?"
Mark said something to Alec, and Alec nodded. He released the other boy's arm, and Mark came around the table to put his hand on Ty's shoulder. Ty leaned into him, though he didn't stop moving.
"Magnus is the best there is," Alec said. "Healing magic is his specialty." Alec's voice was gentle. The voice of someone who wasn't quieting his tone to keep someone calm, but who actually empathized. "Magnus cured me, once," he added. "It was demon poison; I shouldn't have lived, but I did. You can trust him."
Livvy gave a sudden gasp and her back jerked; Ty put his hand to his own arm, his fingers clenching. Then her body relaxed. Color began to come back to her face, her cheeks turning from yellowish-gray to pink. Ty, too, relaxed visibly.
"That's the poison gone," said Magnus matter-of-factly. "Now we have to work on the blood loss and the cut."
"There are runes for both those things," said Ty. "I can put them on her."
But Magnus was shaking his head. "Better not to use them--runes draw some of their strength from the bearer," he said. "If she had a parabatai, we could try pulling strength from them, but she doesn't, does she?"
Ty didn't say anything. His face had gone still and completely white.
"She doesn't," Kit said, realizing Ty wasn't going to say anything.
"That's all right. She'll be fine," Magnus reassured them. "Might as well move her to her bedroom, though. No reason for her to sleep on a table."
"I'll help you take her," Mark said. "Ty, why don't you come with us."
"Alec, can you go to the infirmary?" Magnus said, as Mark went to lift his sister into his arms. Poor Livvy, Kit thought; she would hate to be dragged around like a sack of potatoes. "You'll know what I need."
Alec nodded.
"Take Kit with you," said Magnus. "You'll want help carrying everything."
Kit found himself not minding the idea of making conversation with Alec. Alec had a comforting sort of presence--quiet, and contained. As he and Alec headed out of the room, Kit glanced back once at Ty. Kit had never had siblings, never had a mother, had only had Johnny. His father. His father who had died, and he didn't think he'd ever looked the way Ty looked now, as if the possibility of something happening to Livvy was enough to break him inside.
Maybe there was something wrong with him, Kit thought as he followed Alec into the hallway. Maybe he didn't have the right kind of feelings. He'd never wondered that much about his mother, who she was: Wouldn't someone who knew how to feel properly wonder that?
"So you met Jace," said Alec, scuffing his shoes along the carpet as they went. "What did you think?"
"Of Jace?" Kit was puzzled. He didn't know why anyone would solicit his opinion on the head of the New York Institute.
"Just making small talk." Alec had an odd half smile, as if he were keeping a number of thoughts to himself. They passed through a door marked INFIRMARY into a large room, filled with old-fashioned single metal beds. Alec went behind a counter and started rummaging.
"Jace isn't much like you," said Kit. There was a weird dark patch of wall across from him, as if paint had smeared up and across it in almost the shape of a tree.
"That's an understatement." Alec piled bandages on the countertop. "But it doesn't matter. Parabatai don't need to be like each other. They just need to complement each other. To work well together."
Kit thought of Jace, all shining gold and confidence, and Alec, all steady, quiet ease. "And you and Jace complement each other?"
"I remember when I met him," Alec said. He'd found two boxes and was dumping bandages into one, jars of powder into another. "He walked out of a Portal from Idris. He was skinny and he had bruises and he had these big eyes. He was arrogant, too. He and Isabelle used to fight . . . ." He smiled at the memory. "But to me everything about him said, 'Love me, because nobody ever has.' It was all over him, like fingerprints.
"He was worried about meeting you," Alec added. "He's not used to having living blood relatives. He cared what you thought. He wanted you to like him." He glanced over at Kit. "Here, take a box."
Kit's head was swimming. He thought of Jace, swaggering and amused and proud. But Alec spoke of Jace as if he saw him as a vulnerable child, someone who needed love because he'd never gotten it. "I'm no one, though," he said, taking the box full of bandages. "Why would he care what I think? I don't matter. I'm nothing."
"You matter to Shadowhunters," said Alec. "You're a Herondale. That'll never be nothing."
*
Holding Rafe in her arms, Cristina sang softly. He was small for five years old, and his rest was fitful. He squirmed and sighed in his sleep, his small brown fingers twisted into a lock of his dark hair. He reminded her a little of her own small cousins, always wanting another hug, another sweet, another song before sleep.
Max, on the other hand, slept like a rock--a dark blue rock, with adorable big navy eyes and a gap-toothed grin. When Cristina, Mark, and Kieran had run down to find Alec, Magnus, and their two children in the Institute parlor, Evelyn had been there, fussing about warlocks in her house and the undesirability of being blue. Cristina hoped most adult Shadowhunters didn't react to Max like that--it would be awfully traumatic for the poor little mite.
It seemed that Alec and Magnus had returned from a trip to find Diana's messages asking them for help. They had Portaled to the London Institute immediately. On hearing about the binding spell from Mark and Cristina, Magnus had headed for the local Shadow Market to scout out a spell book he hoped might break the enchantment.
Rafe and Max, upon being left in a strange house with only one parent, had wailed. "Sleep," Alec had said glumly to Rafe, carrying him into a spare room. "Adorno."
Cristina giggled. "That means 'ornament,' " she said. "Not 'sleep.' "
Alec sighed. "I'm still learning Spanish. Magnus is the one who speaks it."
Cristina smiled at Rafael, who was sniffling. She'd always sung her little cousins to sleep, just as her mother had with her; maybe Rafe would like that. "Oh, Rafaelito," she said to him, oh, little Rafael baby. "Ya es hora de ir a dormir. ?Te gustaria que te cante una cancion?"
He nodded vigorously. "!Si!"
Cristina spent some time teaching Alec all the lullabies she knew while he held Max and she sat with Rafe. Not long after that, Magnus had Portaled back, and there had been a great deal of thumping and bumping from the library, and Alec had raced off, but Cristina had decided to stay where she was unless called on, because the ways of warlocks were mysterious and their charming boyfriends, too.
Besides, it was good to have something as harmless as a child to distract her from her anxiety. She was sure--relatively sure--that the binding spell could be undone. But it bothered her just the same: What if it couldn't? She and Mark would be miserable forever, tied by a bond they didn't want. And where would they go? What if he wanted to return to Faerie? She couldn't possibly go with him.
Thoughts of Diego nagged at her too: she'd thought she would come back from Faerie to a message from him, but there had been nothing. Could someone disappear out of your life like that twice?
She sighed and leaned down to stroke Rafe's hair, singing softly.
"Arrorro mi nino,
arrorro mi sol,
arrorro pedazo
de mi corazon.
Hush-a-bye my baby
Hush-a-bye my sun
Hush-a-bye, oh piece
of my heart."
Alec had come in while she was singing, and was sitting on the bed beside Max, leaning against the wall.
"I've heard that song before." It was Magnus, standing in the doorway. He looked tired, his cat's eyes heavily lidded. "I can't remember who was singing it."
He came over and bent down to take Rafe from her. He lifted the boy in his arms, and for a moment Rafe's head lolled against his neck. Cristina wondered if this had ever happened before: a Shadowhunter with a warlock for a parent.
"Sol solecito, cal
ientame un poquito,
Por hoy, por manana, por toda la semana,"
Magnus sang. Cristina looked at him in surprise. He had a nice singing voice, though she didn't know the melody. Sun, little sun, warm me a little, for the noon, for the dawning, for all the week long.
"Are you all right, Magnus?" Alec asked.
"Fine, and Livvy's fine. Healing. Should be back to normal tomorrow." Magnus rolled his shoulders back, stretching his muscles.
"Livvy?" Cristina sat up in alarm. "What happened to Livvy?"
Alec and Magnus exchanged a look. "You didn't tell her?" Magnus said in a low voice.
"I didn't want to upset the kids," said Alec, "and I thought you could reassure her better--"
Cristina scrambled to her feet. "Is Livvy hurt? Does Mark know?"
She was reassured by both Magnus and Alec that Livvy was fine and that yes, Mark did know, but she was already halfway out the door.
She bolted down the hallway toward Mark's room. Her wrist was throbbing and aching--she'd been ignoring it, but it flared up now as she worried. Was it pain Mark was feeling, transmitted through the connection between them, the way parabatai sometimes felt each other's agony? Or was the binding spell getting worse, more intense?
His door was half-open, light spilling out from beneath it. She found him awake inside, lying on his bed. She could see the deep indentation of the binding rune like a bracelet around his left wrist.
"Cristina?" He sat up. "Are you all right?"
"I am not the one who was hurt," she said. "Alec and Magnus told me about Livvy."
He drew his legs up, making room for her to sit on the blanket beside him. The sudden reduction of pain in her wrist made her feel a little dizzy.
He told her what they had done, Kit, Livvy, and Ty: about the crystal they'd found at Blackthorn Hall, their visit to the Shadow Market and how Livvy had been injured. "I cannot help but think," he finished, "that if Julian had been here, if he hadn't left me in charge, none of it would have happened."
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