One day in the Market they found me in a dark corner. They told me they knew about Jinfeng and me, and that they could get me in trouble. I told them my family knew, that the Shanghai Conclave supported me. But then they spoke of the Cohort.
* * *
ALEC KNEW OF THE COHORT. Scattered among the Clave were a small number of Shadowhunters who not only thought the Cold Peace was a good policy, but believed that it was the first step toward the return of the ultimate supremacy of the Nephilim over all of Downworld. Where Valentine Morgenstern and his Circle had argued that only by making war on Downworlders could the Shadowhunters be “purified,” the Cohort took a more subtle approach, proposing new rules to restrict the rights of Downworlders, often in small, localized ways. The danger of the Cohort, as far as Alec was concerned, was not that they would start a new Mortal War, but that the rest of the Clave would allow them to make these small changes, not noticing the larger dangers until it was too late. As yet they were still a small faction, but Alec’s father kept a close eye on them, and there was a growing worry that their numbers were increasing, however slowly.
Tian and Jinfeng’s relationship was illegal, under the Cold Peace, and Alec knew that its discovery and exposure to the larger Clave could well bring down not just Tian himself but his family’s control of the Shanghai Institute, and destroy the careful balance that had been achieved in the city.
Tian took in the grim look on their faces and said, “I see you understand.”
Alec nodded. “Go on.”
Tian continued.
* * *
SOUTHWEST OF SHANGHAI, ONLY A hundred miles or so away, is the city of Hangzhou. Its Institute is run by the Lieu family. The husband of the head of the Institute there is Lieu Julong, and while he is not officially a member of the Cohort, it is well known among the Shadowhunter families of China that he is sympathetic to their cause. It is also well known that the Lieus would seize upon any opportunity to damage the reputation of the Ke family, in the hope of gaining control of the Shanghai Institute for themselves.
Shinyun knew this. She spoke of Lieu Julong by name. She said that my family would be forced to turn me over to the Clave for violations of the Cold Peace, if they wanted to keep the Institute. I said that they would never do such a thing, but in my heart I knew I would never allow them to lose their influence and their positions because of what I had done.
I asked the warlocks what they wanted of me. They wanted information—about the Institutes of China, their defenses, the number of Shadowhunters in each Conclave, the relations between the Shadowhunters and Downworlders in those cities as I understood them. I provided it all to the best of my understanding. I told myself that I was not giving away any crucial secrets, that all of this was knowledge they could find out on their own, even if I refused to help.
A month passed, perhaps two. Jung and Fell continued to be frequent visitors to the Sunlit Market, and one day they again waylaid me. They took me to a cellar on an anonymous street in the concession, where they’d set up a kind of office and laboratory.
The moment I saw their headquarters, I knew I was in terrible danger. They made no attempt to blindfold me or otherwise hide their work from me. And their work was as terrible as you would think. What I saw in a single glance there was enough of an Accords violation to sentence both warlocks to languish in the Silent City for eternity. I assumed they had brought me there to kill me.
Instead they told me everything. That their master was Sammael, Father of Demons, that they were working to bring him back to Earth to resume the war that had been delayed a thousand years ago when he was defeated by Michael. And that now I, too, worked for him.
I said no, of course not, I would never. And they said, you will, or we’ll tell your family that you’ve already provided us with intelligence about Shadowhunters, their numbers, their strengths, their weaknesses. You are already a spy for Sammael, they said. You only have yet to admit it to yourself.
* * *
MAGNUS LOOKED AGHAST. “THE FEATHER in Sammael’s hat,” he said. “It’s a phoenix feather, isn’t it? Is it Jinfeng’s?”
Alec didn’t know the finer points of faerie magic, but he knew the feather of a phoenix gave you power over that phoenix. Tian shook his head violently. “No. No. I agreed that I had no choice but to do as they asked. Their next request was the feather of a phoenix—they obviously wanted me to betray Jinfeng, so that I would fall deeper into corruption. Instead I took Jinfeng into my confidence—the only person other than you here who knows the whole story—and she brought me a phoenix feather from the tomb of one of her ancestors. I told Jung and Fell that it was hers.”
He looked around. “You understand, I thought I would take advantage of the situation. I was allowed into Diyu and began to learn its layout, its structure, its rules. I thought, at least this could be useful to me, if I ever find a way out of this trap.”
“It was useful,” said Isabelle. Alec looked at her, and she looked back, her dark eyes clear and shining. Simon, who was leaning his head on her shoulder, smiled up at her. “The Jiangshi took me through to yet another court, and there was an old guy there with kind of a melted face? He yelled at me in Mandarin for a while, and when I didn’t say anything, he opened a panel in the wall and sent me through.”
“Which hell did they send you to?” said Alec.
“The Hell of Silences,” Isabelle said.
“Could be worse,” Jace said. Alec thought of the Hell of Boiling Soup with Human Dumplings.
“It was the top of a tower, a little platform surrounded on all sides by a thousand-foot drop onto metal spikes,” Isabelle said conversationally. “They hung me from a chain and strapped a metal rod around my neck, with spiked forks at both ends. One end poked into my throat, the other into my chest, so if I spoke, or even nodded my head, I would be impaled on both. Demons watched over me and laughed while I struggled.”
“Oh,” said Jace.
Simon drew Isabelle even tighter to him.
When Alec had first met Simon, he would have laughed uproariously at the suggestion that his sister would someday hold on to him tightly, that she and Simon would find affection and reassurance in each other. Of course, at that time he would have laughed at the suggestion that he and Magnus Bane would be raising a child together too. They had all changed so much, in such a short time.
“I was only there for a few minutes,” Isabelle went on. “Tian found me. The demons watching over me let him get close, and then, uh, then a giant tiger showed up and killed them.”
“Once Sammael’s eye was no longer on me, I called upon Hu Shen for assistance freeing Isabelle,” Tian put in.
“That must have been so cool,” murmured Simon.
“I made sure we brought the tiger,” Isabelle said. “I knew you’d be disappointed if you missed it.”
Simon kissed her on the cheek. She blushed a little—very unlike Isabelle, Alec thought with amusement. Very unlike Isabelle most of the time, anyway.
“You know the rest,” Tian said. “Sammael’s probably planning to spend today moping around Diyu, complaining about how terrible it is and ordering his two warlocks around. And now he knows I’m his enemy too.”
“Believe me,” said Simon wearily, “when Sammael decides to be demonic, he has no trouble bringing the evil.”
Alec nodded. He had been startled by his first meeting with Sammael; he had been so friendly, and so unthreatening, but the sight of Sammael’s face as he sliced up Simon’s body had reminded him of who they were dealing with. “He’s still the most dangerous thing here.”
“He also seems to have a strange interest in you, Magnus,” put in Tian. “I suppose it’s because you were thorned by Shinyun, but it seems to me if he wanted more warlock minions, he could probably find willing ones.”
Magnus shrugged. “I guess I’m already here?”
“So Sammael is here preparing,” said Clary, “but what’s he preparing for? What’s his plan exactly?”
“Is that possible?” said Jace. “Is there something in the Book of the White that could do that?”
They all looked at Magnus. “Probably,” Magnus said grimly. “Yes. No wonder the Portals on Earth are all malfunctioning. Sammael’s minions have been fiddling with the walls that keep dimensions separate.”
“So why haven’t they figured it out yet?” said Clary.
Tian looked thoughtful. “It seems to me that Sammael thought Diyu would be a much better source of power. It used to be, under Yanluo, of course; by design it is a dynamo that transforms human suffering into demonic power. But the machinery has been broken for almost a hundred and fifty years. Not only is it difficult for Jung and Fell to draw on its power to fuel their magic, but the demons who used to run Diyu have grown used to freedom and chaos. Sammael can’t whip them into shape by himself.” He shook his head. “Shinyun thinks that with enough power granted by the thorn, she could hold the entire host of Diyu under her magical compulsion, but she isn’t there yet.”
“So we have a little time,” said Alec. “Are we safe here?”
Tian nodded. “Sammael doesn’t think we’re any real threat, and he’s dependent on his underlings to keep Diyu under observation. Demons don’t like coming to churches, even in demon Shanghai.”
“Okay,” said Jace. “So what’s the plan? Rest up and then go after Sammael?”
“Or go after Shinyun and Ragnor,” said Clary. When she saw Magnus’s face, she said, “We can’t let them figure out how to allow Sammael to enter our world. We just can’t.”
“Would getting the Book away from them stop Sammael’s plans, though?” said Simon doubtfully.
Tian shook his head. “It would delay them, but they would find some other solution, I’m sure. There’s a lot of dark magic in the world.”
“We still can’t just leave it with them,” Clary said. “Or leave things the way they are.”
“Okay,” said Alec. “So where do we find the Book? Or Sammael? And Sammael, rather?”
Tian looked uncertain. “He doesn’t really have a home base here. He wanders all over the realm.” He adopted a confidential air. “He’s kind of a micromanager.”
“Then what?” said Jace, frustrated. “Back to the iron bridge? Back to the courts? Demand to be taken to him?”
“We draw him out,” said Magnus. “Use me as bait.”
“No,” said Alec instantly.
“Shinyun has some weird thing about me and the thorn,” Magnus said. “She’s been taunting me since this whole thing started, telling me that in the end I would choose to take a third wound from the Svefnthorn rather than die. If I go somewhere and make a lot of noise, demand to speak to Shinyun, she’ll show up. From there we can get to Sammael. Or he’ll get to us.”
“No,” Alec said again.
“It can work!” Magnus said.
“Magnus,” said Alec, “what happens if she actually thorns you again? You’ll fall under Sammael’s control. And then it’s all over. For… everyone,” he added quietly.
“She won’t,” said Magnus. “She can’t. I have to choose the third wound, and I won’t do that.”
“But you’ll lie to her and say you will,” Alec said.
Magnus actually smiled a little, clearly pleased at how well Alec knew him. “Right. Then she’ll probably want to do some complicated ritual with a bunch of chanting, you know her. She’ll light a million candles. It’ll take forever. Plenty of time for our attack.”
Alec’s heart was beating too fast. “What if she doesn’t? What if it doesn’t?”
“Alec,” Jace said carefully. “I don’t think we have a better idea. Magnus is right. The rest of us, we can just stay in the cathedral until we die of starvation, as far as Sammael or his minions are concerned. They don’t think we can really do anything to disrupt their plan. We can kill some demons, sure, but two thorned warlocks and a Prince of Hell? We’re just some foot soldiers in the faceless infantry of the opposing army.”
“He’ll find out he’s wrong about that soon enough,” said Isabelle.
“I mean, yes,” said Jace. “Fine point from Isabelle. But when Sammael met Magnus, he tried to recruit him. He offered him Shinyun’s job! Magnus is the only one who can get their attention, who might be able to defend himself if one of our three buddies attacked.” He nodded toward Simon. “Sorry, no offense intended.”
“None taken,” Simon said with a weak smile. “I’m not really at a hundred percent right now.”
Alec didn’t know what to say. A terrible thing was going through his mind, an anxiety he had never really felt before, or allowed himself to feel. A conversation with Max, a horrible conversation, about how Magnus wasn’t going to be back, how it was just the two of them now. A risky plan, a long-shot plan, but we thought it would be fine.…
“We’ll all have eyes on Magnus while this is happening,” said Jace. As usual, he knew Alec well enough to read the trepidation in his eyes. “He’ll never be in any real danger. We’ve fought off Shinyun before, we can again, and Magnus is right—he’d have to choose the thorn this time. That’s why she hasn’t bothered to try thorning him since we’ve been in Diyu.”
Alec sighed. With an effort, he decided to wait on the morbid fantasizing and focus on the moment at hand. “Okay, okay. I agree it’s probably our best bet.”
“So now what?” Clary said.
Simon yawned. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use some sleep. It’s been a long day for me—dim sum, the Market, being hung from chains and lacerated with magic flying knives. I know that’s a normal weeknight for most of you, but I’m pretty worn-out.”
“Also, my foot bones need to knit,” said Jace. “And I don’t suppose you know where we could find some better weapons,” he added to Tian.
“Flame whip!” said Isabelle.
“More flame whips would be acceptable,” allowed Jace, “though they’re not my first choice.”
Tian said, “As a matter of fact…”
* * *
AT THE END OF ONE of the transepts was a small room. It was obviously a private chapel in the real cathedral, but here, of course, all signs of religious practice were missing, so it echoed emptily as Tian led Alec, Jace, and Clary into the center. Jace hopped along with his spear as a cane, keeping his weight off his foot. Magnus had come along too, Alec thought in order to let Simon and Isabelle have a little time to themselves, not because he cared at all about weapons. Alec stood against the wall and watched with vague interest while Tian got down on the ground and knocked on a few of the stone floor tiles, listening. After a few false starts, he reached down and carefully lifted the largest tile out of the floor, revealing a chamber below it framed in wood. In the chamber was a pile of oilcloth bundles.
“It’s nothing like you’d find in the real cathedral,” said Tian apologetically, “and they won’t be runed, so you can hurt demons, but you’ll need to make the kills with seraph blades. But…”
Jace made a happy noise. Tian started retrieving the bundles from the chamber.
Alec said quietly, “Tian, why didn’t you tell us that you had been forced to work for Sammael? You trusted us enough to tell us about Jinfeng.”
Tian looked at Alec with surprise. “I would think that was obvious. I knew you wouldn’t disapprove of a relationship with a Downworlder, but there was always a chance that the connection between me and Sammael could get back to the Clave and they’d step in, and Jinfeng would be harmed. My family might be harmed too.”
Clary snorted. “What?” said Tian.
“It’s just… we’re the ones who keep stuff from the Clave,” she said.
“It’s true,” said Alec. “We’re not exactly known for keeping the authorities up
to date on our plans.”
“For instance, we didn’t tell the Council we were coming to Shanghai,” agreed Clary. “I thought we had an understanding.”
Tian looked amazed. “Alec, your father is the Inquisitor. I think I’ve trusted you all quite a lot considering I only met you yesterday. Wow, today has been a long day.”
“He’s got a point,” said Jace. With the handle of his spear, he had pushed the oilcloth aside, uncovering a two-handed sword with an immense broad curved blade, like a cross between a scimitar and a machete. He gingerly nudged the tip with his good foot. “As does this. Clary? Dadao?”
Clary took it and went to the other end of the room, where she stepped through a few two-handed sword forms, her bright red braid whipping around her head as she spun through a series of forward cuts, ending with the sword elegantly held downward. She flashed them a smile. “I like it.”
Jace was staring. Alec patted him on the shoulder.
“There’s something about a tiny girl with a gigantic sword,” Jace murmured.
Clary came back over. Jace visibly restrained himself from grabbing her and kissing her, and instead went back to the pile of weapons at their feet.
“It just bothers me,” Alec said to Tian. “The distrust, the secrets. Mine, yours.” He furrowed his brow. “The Shadowhunters are supposed to be this ironclad institution, the bulwark between humans and demons, the first and last line of defense. But instead we’re just riddled with secrets. I used to think it was just me and my friends who were keeping things from the Clave, but you know what I’ve realized? Everyone is keeping things from the Clave.”
“Are you saying I should have trusted you more?” Tian said, sounding nettled. “Even though I’d just met you?”
“Yes,” said Jace, and both Alec and Tian turned to see what he meant, but it turned out he’d just uncovered a weapon—two hardwood sticks linked with a length of iron rings. One of the sticks was clearly a handle, while the other was much shorter and was covered all over in short iron barbs. He looked up at them with glee. “Morning star.”
The Lost Book of the White Page 26