Chain of Gold (The Last Hours #1) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,56

would not have all this time together, and I would miss it.”

James worried about Grace. It would not do for him to be her only friend; there was only so often he could see her. He thought of Cordelia’s visit later in the summer and whether there would be any possibility that they could meet, given that his friendship with Grace must remain a secret.

Now Grace appeared to hesitate. “Would I offend you if I asked what happened to you at Shadowhunter Academy? I have heard only rumors.”

James told her about his strange power of passing into shadow, it having been revealed before a good portion of the Academy, and his expulsion. “It is a hardly a secret,” he said, wondering why it felt like a great confession. “It is because of my mother being a sort of warlock. Everyone knows it, yet still they mutter and point.”

“It often seems to me,” she said, “that warlocks are great partners to us in fighting demons, and they are themselves partly demonic. I do not see why others must fuss so.”

“Shadowhunters don’t like difference,” James said. “They always see evil in it. But here, I have told you a secret and now you must tell me one.”

Grace smiled. “I have no secrets.”

“Not true. Where do you come from, Grace Blackthorn? Do you remember your parents?”

“Yes,” she said. “I was eight when they—they were killed by demons. I would have been left by myself had it not been for Mama.”

That did explain why Grace had only a single rune, on her left hand. The Voyance rune was the first Mark Shadowhunters received when they were children. Tatiana had clearly not welcomed the idea of Grace continuing her Shadowhunter education further.

“You would have been taken in by an Institute,” said James. “Shadowhunters don’t abandon their own.”

“I suppose,” said Grace, “but I wouldn’t have had a family. And now I do. A mother, and a family name, and a home.” She did not look entirely happy about it. “I do wish I had been able to keep something of my parents’, though.”

James was startled. “Do you truly possess nothing of theirs?”

“There is one thing,” she said. “My mother had a silver bracelet she wore. Mama says it is very valuable, and she keeps it in a box in her study. She says she will let me wear it when I am older, but every year I ask, and every year I am not yet old enough.”

“Can you not retrieve it from its box?”

“The box is locked up tight,” she said. “My mother is fond of locks. All over the house I find drawers, cupboards, boxes that won’t budge without the right keys.… I cannot imagine that Mama remembers what key goes to what lock. There are so many of each.” Her expression changed in a subtle way. “But enough of this sorrowful subject! I have heard from my mother that the Carstairs family will be visiting you later this summer. No doubt you will spend all your time with them, once they get here.”

“No,” James said, “I expect Cordelia will want to spend all her time with Lucie—they’re to be parabatai someday. Of course, Lucie is also writing her book, so there may well be times when I really should spend time with Cordelia, as a good host. I mean, whatever she likes. Obviously, if she wanted to spend every day with me, that would be all right—”

He stopped, realizing that he had become entirely crazed sometime in the past ten seconds. Grace was being very polite about it. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to suggest—”

Grace laughed lightly. “Nonsense! I know you mean well, James. You’re just in love with Cordelia.”

James was horrified. “I am fond of her, that is all. We are friends, as you and I are.”

“Oh?” Grace said. “And if she arrives here in Idris and tells you she has met the most wonderful man and they have had a whirlwind romance and now they are promised to each other? You would only congratulate her like you would any of your friends?”

“I would tell her she was too young to get married,” James said stiffly. The truth was that when he thought of Cordelia marrying someone else, it felt like being kicked in the heart. With a start, he realized that in his vague imaginings of the future Cordelia had always been there, a steady, welcome presence, a warm light in the dark of the unknown.

* * *

“Cruel