can he come home?”
There was a long pause.
I have seen him, said Cousin Jem.
For a moment, Cordelia let herself remember her father, truly remember him. Her father had taught her to fight. Her father had his faults, but he was never cruel, and when he did pay Cordelia some mind, his attention made her feel ten feet tall. It often felt as though Alastair and Sona were made of different stuff than Cordelia, glass or metal with edges that could cut, but Elias was the one who was like her.
Memories can be bitter as well as sweet.
She murmured, “You are a Silent Brother. I know my father was not always welcoming to you—”
Never think I am resentful of the distance he kept, said Jem. I would do anything I could for you and our family.
“He wrote me a note, asking me to believe in him. He says he is not responsible for what happened. Can’t you make the Clave believe him too?”
There was a long pause. I cannot assure the Clave of what I do not know myself, said Jem.
“They must ask him what happened,” said Cordelia. “They must try the Mortal Sword. Will they?”
Jem hesitated. Cordelia saw that Lucie was approaching them, just as she realized she had mashed the herbs in the mortar into green sludge.
“Daisy,” Lucie said in a low voice. This struck Cordelia as alarming. Lucie could rarely be convinced to whisper about anything. “Could you come with me a moment? I very much need your assistance.”
“Of course,” Cordelia said, a bit hesitantly. “It is only that—”
She turned toward Jem, hoping to get his answer to her question. But he had already vanished into the crowded sickroom.
* * *
“Where are we going?” Cordelia whispered, as they hurried along the corridors of the Institute. “Lucie. You cannot simply abduct me, you know.”
“Nonsense,” said Lucie. “If I wished to abduct you, you can be sure that I would do it quite expertly, no doubt beneath the veil of silence and darkness.” They had reached the vestibule; Lucie took down a cloak from a peg on the wall and handed another to Cordelia. “Besides, I told my father I was taking you home in the carriage because you faint at the sight of blood.”
“Lucie!” Cordelia followed her friend out into the courtyard. The sun had only just set, and the evening was brushed with a steel-blue patina. The yard was crowded with carriages, each bearing the crest of a Shadowhunter family.
“Not every bit of a good story is true,” said Lucie. Her cheeks were bright pink. The air had become chill; Cordelia pulled her cloak around her. “It’s the story that’s important.”
“I don’t want to go home, though,” Cordelia pointed out, as she and Lucie wove their way through the crowd of carriages. She squinted. “Is someone singing inside the Baybrook carriage?”
Lucie waved a dismissive hand. “Of course you’re not going home. You’re coming with me on an adventure.” She waved at something half-hidden behind the Wentworth carriage. “Bridget!”
It was indeed Bridget, her graying red hair wound into a chignon, having clearly just finished readying the Institute’s brougham and a fresh horse—Balios’s brother Xanthos. The two were a matched pair. Cordelia had heard a great deal about them growing up. Lucie went instantly to pat Xanthos’s soft, white-speckled nose; Cordelia tried to smile at Bridget, who was eyeing them both suspiciously.
“Carriage all ready for you, Miss Baggage,” Bridget said to Lucie. “Try to not get in trouble. It fusses your parents.”
“I’m just taking Cordelia home,” Lucie said, blinking innocently. Bridget wandered off, muttering about finding certain people stuck in certain trees while sneaking out of certain windows. Lucie bent to whisper something in Xanthos’s ear before gesturing for Cordelia to join her in the carriage. “It’s all glamoured,” she explained, as the brougham rattled under the open gate and into the streets of London. “It would just upset the mundanes to see a carriage racing about with no driver.”
“So the horse knows where to take us?” Cordelia settled back against the upholstered bench seat. “But it’s not to Cornwall Gardens?”
Lucie shook her head. “Balios and Xanthos are special horses. And we’re going to Chiswick House.”
Cordelia stared. “Chiswick House? We’re going to see Grace and Tatiana? Oh, Lucie, I don’t know—”
Lucie held up a hand. “There could be a time—a short time—during which you may have to distract them. But it is not a social call. I am on a mission.”
Cordelia did not think Grace seemed the sort of person