not to cause them any trouble, and see to it that they have whatever they need.”
James nodded as the carriage rolled out of the courtyard. He knew there would be guards around the Institute as well; he had seen a few of them, marked out clearly in their black gear, outside the gates as they approached. His parents had been through too much to ever leave the Institute unguarded.
He glanced at his sister, wondering if she was thinking the same. She stood looking up at the higher levels of the Institute—perhaps at the sickroom? He was used to a Lucie in motion, not a Lucie who stood pale and withdrawn, clearly lost in thought.
“Come along then, Luce,” he said. “Let’s get inside.”
She frowned at him. “No need to use your worried voice. I’m perfectly all right, James.”
He threw an arm around her shoulder. “It’s not every day you see a warlock scattered liberally around his own bedroom,” he said. “You might as well take a little time to recover. Raziel knows none of us have had much time to recover from anything lately.”
In fact, James thought, as the four of them approached the Institute, he had barely had a moment all day to think of Grace. His mother always said the cure for worry was to throw yourself into activity, and he had certainly done that, but he could not leave things this way with Grace forever. He had not realized how bad the situation with Tatiana actually was. Surely Grace would reach out, and together they would remove her to a place of safety.
Surely it would happen soon.
* * *
“So, Jessamine,” said Lucie. “Can ghosts lie?”
They were all in Lucie’s room: Matthew and James had settled Lucie on the settee and wrapped her in blankets, despite her complaints that she was fine and needed no assistance. James had insisted that he hadn’t liked how pale she’d looked when she’d come out of Gast’s flat.
Cordelia was next to Lucie on the sofa, while James and Matthew occupied the two armchairs as only young men did: legs and armed sprawled everywhere, gear jackets tossed casually on the bed, muddy boots mussing up the carpet. Both were gazing up at Jessamine, though only James could see her.
“Certainly not!” Jessamine looked shifty. “Ghosts are completely honest. I keep telling you, it was mice who knocked your silver mirror behind the desk and broke it.”
“It appears clear that if ghosts are liars, they are terrible liars,” said James.
Matthew sighed. “It is very strange to see you conversing with the invisible.”
“Humph,” said Jessamine. She wobbled a bit and firmed up, her outlines clearing as she drifted down toward the floor. Shadowhunters, having the Sight, could generally see ghosts who wanted to be seen, but Lucie knew it was an effort for Jessamine to make herself visible to all eyes.
“Oh!” said Cordelia. “It’s very nice to meet you, Jessamine. Lucie speaks of you often.”
Jessamine beamed.
“You are a very attractive ghost,” said Matthew, tapping his ringed fingers against his chest. “I do hope Lucie and James have mentioned as much.”
“They have not,” Jessamine noted.
“Very remiss,” said Matthew, his eyes sparkling.
“You are not at all like Henry,” said Jessamine, eyeing Matthew speculatively. “He was forever setting things on fire, and not a compliment to be heard.”
“Jessamine,” Lucie said. “This is important! Do tell us, can ghosts lie? Not you, of course, my dear.”
“Ghosts can lie,” Jessamine conceded. “But there are certain forms of necromancy that can compel them to tell the truth, and even to allow the living to control them.” She shuddered. “That is why necromancy is so dreadful and forbidden.”
“That’s why?” Cordelia sounded doubtful. Turning to Lucie, she said, “Are you worried Gast’s ghost might have been lying?”
Lucie hesitated. Part of her hoped he had been lying, since he had claimed the demon was only meant to kill Shadowhunters. It was a frightening thought. “I just don’t want us to go off on a wild-goose chase. Gast was insistent that someone extraordinarily powerful hired him to summon these demons. We need to find out who that was.”
“We also need to know what kind of demons these are,” said Cordelia. “We cannot go to the Enclave just to report that Gast raised a bunch of poisonous demons: we already know these demons bear poison. We do not know why their poison is so deadly, or what Gast did so they can appear in daylight.”
“This all seems very dull,” said Jessamine. “If you don’t need me, I’ll be