The Lost Book of the White (The Eldest Curses #2) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,45
of the dishes if you—”
But the Shadowhunters needed no further invitation and dug into the spread, which Alec noted was different from the Chinese food he was used to in New York, but had some definite similarities. The most familiar thing at the table were soup dumplings, which Tian’s reaction made clear were a sign Yun had pulled out all the stops for her guests. He had begun to explain how to eat them but quickly stopped once he realized that everyone at the table had grabbed spoons and were gently biting open the top of the dumpling to let the steam escape so they could drink the soup inside.
Simon grinned at Tian’s surprise. “Xiaolongbao, right?” he said. “It’s, like, the only Chinese I know. Oh! Also char siu bao. Most of my knowledge is bao-related.”
“Char siu is Cantonese,” snapped Yun over her shoulder as she returned to the kitchen.
“I didn’t intend any offense,” Simon said, looking mortified.
Jem rolled his eyes. “She isn’t taking offense. That’s just how she conveys useful information.”
“She trained me,” said Tian, “and a generation of Shadowhunters before me.”
“She’s terrifying,” said Magnus with sincere admiration.
“You should have seen her in her prime,” said Jem. “That was a different Shanghai, though. She has quite the pedigree—she’s Ke Yiwen’s youngest granddaughter.”
Magnus looked impressed. Isabelle interrupted herself from cutting half of the gigantic lion’s head meatball on Simon’s plate for herself. “Who’s that?”
“She’s the one who killed Yanluo,” Tian said through a mouthful of food. “Though Jem knows more about it than I do.”
Jem’s expression was somber and a little distant. Alec knew it well. It was the look Magnus got when he thought of something that had happened a long time ago whose memory still pained him. “A few years before Yanluo was killed, he invaded the Shanghai Institute, captured my parents and me, and tortured me in front of them. To pay them back.”
His voice was steady, but then, Jem had lived two lifetimes since then. Alec wasn’t surprised to see Magnus reach out and put a reassuring hand on Jem’s arm.
“Pay them back for what?” said Clary, her green eyes wide and full of concern.
Jem’s mother, Magnus explained, had destroyed a nest of Yanluo’s brood, and so Yanluo had sought revenge against her child. He told them about the demon drug yin fen, how Yanluo had injected Jem with it for days on end, so his body would be dependent on the drug and he would have to take it forever or die—only his becoming a Silent Brother had ended the addiction, and only heavenly fire, pouring through Jem as he held on to Jace while Jace burned with it, had cured it permanently.
“I remember that part,” Clary said grimly.
“I remember it a little,” Jace said. “That was kind of a weird time for me.”
“How strange. You’re never weird,” said Isabelle innocently.
“We still see yin fen around occasionally,” Tian said, “though nothing like it used to be in Uncle Jem’s time. Young werewolves bring it in from Macao or Hong Kong. The Downworlder community is pretty good at shutting it down, though; they know the dangers.”
“In Singapore,” Magnus put in, scratching at his wound without seeming to notice, “the Shadowhunters will just kill you on the spot if they catch you with it.”
“Isn’t that against the Accords?” Simon said incredulously. Magnus shrugged.
“At least I survived,” said Jem, picking the story back up, “unlike my parents. My mother’s sister, Yiwen, dedicated herself to revenge, and a few years later—I had gone to live at the London Institute, of course—she and my uncle Elias Carstairs tracked Yanluo down and killed him.” He nodded at the kitchen door, where Yun had disappeared. “Mother Yun is Yiwen’s youngest granddaughter, the only one still alive.” He smiled. “The second-oldest living Ke.”
Alec took another serving of red-cooked chicken and felt out of place. It was a feeling he still had, sometimes, when Magnus’s life before him, long before his birth, in fact, loomed into view. Magnus and Jem had so much shared history, their relationship was so long and complex—for a moment he felt a tinge of jealousy, and then stopped himself; obviously his relationship with Magnus was of a totally different kind than Jem’s, and it was silly of him to envy them their shared history.…
And then his mind flipped, and instead he thought about Jem, so young, terrified, screaming; about Jem’s parents, watching in helpless horror as their child was tortured in front of them for days. And he realized