The Lost Book of the White (The Eldest Curses #2) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,43

breezy and friendly and make everyone comfortable. Luckily, Alec had a tendency to stick close to outgoing and confident people, and Jace and Isabelle had made all the introductions and explanations, while he, Clary, and Simon had hung back. At least until Jem arrived, at which point Clary and Simon had perked up and gone to chat with him and explain the situation.

Alec still didn’t think he knew Jem all that well, even though he’d met him a number of times now. As with so many of Magnus’s old friends, the literal centuries—well, one and a half centuries, in Jem’s case—seemed an unbreachable hurdle. But Jem himself was preternaturally kind, and he had come over to speak with Alec himself—to assure him that Magnus was all right, that he had burned through a lot of magic in a short time, that he would feel better after a good rest, and that in the meantime Alec should enjoy the grounds and come meet the family.

The only ones in residence today turned out to be Tian’s grandmother, who Jem called Mother Yun, and his cousin Liqin, who stared bug-eyed at Clary for a few seconds and then ran away. The guests had been given tea and shown around the property, which was as dense with Shadowhunter history as the Institute itself. It was unfortunate, he felt, that none of them could pay proper attention to the place. They were all still shaken up from the encounter with Shinyun and her demon army.

While Magnus slept and Yun prepared dinner, Tian took his guests into the dining room, where a long rosewood table dominated the space. He sat down with a sigh, running his hands through his hair.

“Please sit,” he said. “I know I’ve been dragging you all over this house without engaging in the discussion we really need to have, but I needed time to think.”

Alec and Jace exchanged a look of shared relief. Alec knew Jace had barely been holding himself back from demanding answers about supposedly extinct skeleton warriors. They all took seats, their attention fixed on Tian.

“I need to know,” Tian said. “Who was that warlock? The one commanding Baigujing’s daughters?”

“Shinyun Jung,” Alec said. “A warlock who only makes bad decisions. What would it mean for her to be commanding Baigujing’s daughters?”

“They are fiercely loyal to Baigujing herself. And this Jung Shinyun—a warlock who could command Baigujing—would be a powerful one indeed.” Tian looked at Alec. “I assume she is the warlock who stole the book you’re looking for.”

Alec nodded.

“I may have to explain something of the history of demons in Shanghai,” said Tian. “I’ll try to keep it short.”

“I recommend the use of dioramas,” said Jace. Clary kicked him under the table.

The Nephilim of China, Tian explained, and especially of Shanghai, had been tormented for years and years in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries by Yanluo, a Greater Demon known to mundanes across East Asia as the King of Hell. He had banded together with other powerful demons as well, including Baigujing, and together they waged a terrifying war against mundanes, Downworlders, and Shadowhunters alike.

When Yanluo struck at the Shanghai Institute in 1872 and murdered several Shadowhunters, he became the nemesis of the Ke family. They tracked him across China, finally slaughtering him in 1875. (Tian seemed rightfully proud of this fact.)

“He’s dead,” said Jace. “So he’s not our problem, I take it?”

“What about Baigujing?” asked Isabelle.

“That’s the thing,” said Tian. “Yanluo is not the actual King of Hell, of course. He isn’t even a Prince of Hell. Mundanes called him the King of Hell because his realm, Diyu, was believed to be the human underworld. It was a horrible place. No one seems to know how Yanluo came to rule over Diyu, but he used it to torture mundane souls and entertain his demon cohorts with scenes of bloody massacres and torment.” He sighed. “For a very long time, the only permanent passage between Diyu and our world—or any world—was a Portal right here in Shanghai. This was before humans could make their own Portals, of course, and Yanluo would pass back and forth between the worlds without anybody being able to do anything about it. The moment he died, though, the Portal was closed—forever—and his cohorts were trapped in Diyu. Baigujing and her daughters were among them.”

“Well, they’re out now,” said Simon grimly.

“Could the Portal that closed have opened again?” demanded Clary. “Should we go check on it?”

“No one knows where it is—or was,” said Tian. “Around