The Lost Book of the White (The Eldest Curses #2) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,77
see.”
The woman looked taken aback. “If no one has sent offerings of money to you, you may be able to claim remaining funds that were sent to your ancestors—”
Magnus interrupted. “We’re not dead! And also, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this place is in ruins. Diyu has ceased normal operations. Can’t you see this whole court has fallen down?” The woman didn’t speak for a moment, and he went on, “When was the last time someone came through here?”
“Magnus—” Jace said. He was staring at one of the side doors, looking through it. “Someone’s coming.”
The woman spoke, slower than Alec would have liked. “It has been a long time,” she said, “and the beadles have done a wretched job of keeping it clean.”
“The beadles are gone,” Magnus said. “Their master with them. Yanluo, your Lord, was defeated and driven from this place more than a hundred years ago.”
“I don’t get out much,” the woman admitted. “Maybe you are right, but maybe you are a trickster who is trying to sneak through the ghost gate without paying.”
“He is right,” Alec said. “We just came from the First Court. It’s in ruins as well.”
“Guys…,” Jace said, more urgently. He caught up an abandoned dagger and handed it to Clary. Lifting his own spear, he held it in front of him. They all turned toward the source of the noise. Even Alec could hear it clearly now: footsteps, faint but getting louder, running toward them.
The woman in the painting hesitated. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I must demand payment. Even if there are temporary problems in the machinery of Diyu, they will no doubt be fixed soon. Souls cannot simply pile up forever with no place to go.”
“I told you, we don’t have any money,” Alec began angrily, and then stopped, because through a doorway came the source of the footsteps.
It was Tian. He looked as if he’d been through a wrestling match with a bag of razor blades. His clothes were torn and bloody, his hair tangled, his skin covered in cuts and scratches. Over his shoulder was a torn, stained white cloth that had been gathered into a makeshift bundle.
The woman in the painting turned to look at Tian. “Do you have the money to pay the toll?”
“Of course he doesn’t—” Magnus began.
“I do,” Tian said.
“Tian!” Alec said. “Where have you been? How did you get here?”
“We lost you after we left the smiths,” said Clary. “And then the demons attacked.”
“Friends, I have been through an ordeal,” Tian said wearily. Jace hadn’t put his spear away and was watching him suspiciously.
Magnus, too, looked suspicious. “How did you disappear without any of us noticing you?”
“I was seized by demons,” said Tian. “The vanguard of the warlocks’ army. I stepped outside the smithy to make sure all was safe, and great bat-winged demons swooped down and carried me off. They pushed me through a Portal almost immediately and I ended up here.”
“Why didn’t they wait for the rest of us?” Magnus said.
“I don’t think they knew the rest of you were there,” said Tian. “They must have seen me and just thought I was a random Shadowhunter in their way.” He looked around at them, breathing hard. “I’m very glad to see you all again, even if you are trapped here with me. What of the Portal?”
“It’s closed,” said Alec. “For now. But Simon disappeared too, and we need to find him before we can leave.”
“And, ideally, stop Sammael from doing whatever he’s doing,” put in Clary.
“And a whole list of other things, actually,” said Magnus.
Tian breathed a sigh of relief. “I think I can help.” He dumped his bundle on the ground, which made a metallic clank. The fabric fell away to reveal a pile of gold and silver ingots, each about the size of a fist. They were in a variety of shapes—some square, some round, some in the shape of stylized flowers or boats.
“You’ve been to the Bank of Sorrows, I see,” said Magnus, arching an eyebrow.
“I have,” said Tian. “There were quite a lot of offerings to the members of the Ke family over the years that have gone unclaimed. The imps who brought them to me seemed happy to have some business.” He gestured to the pile below him and addressed the woman in the painting, whose sharp teeth were bared in pleasure. “Honored Hua Zhong Xian,” he said, “will these serve as payment for the six of us to pass?”