Queen of Air and Darkness (The Dark Artifices #3)

Emma looked at Cristina, who was biting her lip unhappily.

“Since we have no help from the Clave, and perhaps active opposition, what do we do?” Julian said.

“We do what Tessa told you to do in Thule,” said Magnus. “I trust Tessa; I always have. Just as you trusted Livvy when you found her in Thule. They might not be exact copies of us, these alternate selves, but they are not so different, either.”

“So we pour some of the water of Lake Lyn on the blighted areas, and save some to cure the warlocks,” said Helen. “The big problem being how we get to Lake Lyn past the Cohort guards who are all over Idris. And then how we get back out—”

“I will do it,” Magnus said, sitting up. The blanket fell loosely around him. “I will—”

“No!” Alec said sharply. “You are not risking yourself, Magnus, not in your condition.”

Magnus opened his mouth to object. Clary leaned across the table, her eyes entreating. “Please, Magnus. You’ve helped us so many times. Let us help you.”

“How?” Magnus said gruffly.

Jace rose to his feet. “We’ll go to Idris.”

Clary stood up too; she only reached to Jace’s bicep, but her determination was clear. “I can create Portals. We can’t get into Alicante, but we don’t need to—just into Idris. We’ll go to Lake Lyn, then Brocelind, and get back as fast as we can. We’ll go as many times as we need to so we can get enough water.”

“There are guards patrolling all over Idris,” said Helen. “You’ll need to be armed and prepared.”

“Then we’ll start getting armed now.” Jace winked at Magnus. “Prepare to be helped, warlock, whether you like it or not.”

“Not,” Magnus grumbled, subsiding into his blanket, but he was smiling. And the look Alec gave Jace and Clary was more eloquent than any speech.

“Wait.” Aline held up a hand. She was shuffling through a pile of papers on the table. “I’ve got the schedules of the patrols here. They’re sweeping different locations in Idris to make sure they’re ‘clear’ of Downworlders.” She spoke the words with distaste. “They’re doing Lake Lyn today and tonight.” She looked up. “You can’t go now.”

“We can deal with some guards,” Jace said.

“No,” said Magnus. “It’s too dangerous. You could deal with ten guards, or twenty, but this is going to be fifty or a hundred—”

“A hundred,” said Helen, looking over Aline’s shoulder. “At least.”

“I won’t let you take the risk,” Magnus said. “I’ll wear myself out using my magic to drag you back.”

“Magnus.” Clary sounded appalled.

“What does the schedule say?” asked Julian. “When can they go?”

“Tomorrow, dawn,” said Aline. “They should have dispersed by then.” She set the papers down. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s what we need to do. We’ll spend today setting up and getting you ready. Making sure everything goes without a hitch.”

There was a general hubbub as everyone offered to pitch in, claiming one responsibility or another: Emma and Cristina were going to talk to Catarina about the possible cure, Mark and Julian were going to check maps of Brocelind to find where the areas of blight were, Clary and Jace were going to gather up their gear and weapons, and Helen and Aline were going to try to find out exactly when the patrol would be moving from Lake Lyn to Brocelind Forest. Ty and Kit, meanwhile, would start putting together lists of local warlocks who might need lake water when it was retrieved.

As everyone gathered up their things, Ty went over to the corner where Tavvy was playing and knelt down to hand him a small train. Amid the confusion, Emma slipped after him. He appeared to have offered the train as a trade for his headphones.

“Ty,” Emma said, crouching down. Tavvy was busy turning trains upside down. “I have to give you something.”

“What kind of thing?” He sounded puzzled.

She hesitated and then drew the envelope from her pocket. “It’s a letter,” she said. “From the Livvy in the other dimension—in Thule. We told her about you and she wanted to write something for you to read. I haven’t looked at it,” she added. “It’s just for you.”

Ty stood up. He was graceful as a hollow-boned bird and looked as light and fragile. “She’s not my Livvy.”

“I know,” Emma said. She couldn’t stop looking at his hands—his knuckles were raw and red. Her Julian would have noticed that already and been moving heaven and earth to find out what happened. “And you don’t have to read it. But it’s yours, and I think you should have it.” She paused. “After all, it did come from a pretty long way away.”

A look passed over his face that she couldn’t quite decipher; he took it, though, and folded it up inside his jacket.

“Thanks,” he said, and went across the room to join Kit in the DOWNWORLDERS—WARLOCKS section, where Kit was struggling with several heavy books.

“Don’t,” she heard Cristina say, and looked around in surprise. She didn’t see Cristina anywhere, but that had definitely been her voice. She glanced around; Tavvy was absorbed with his train and everyone else was hurrying to and fro. “Kieran. I know you are worried for Adaon, but you didn’t speak a word through the whole meeting.”

Oh dear, Emma thought. She realized that Cristina’s voice was coming from the other side of a bookcase, and that Cristina and Kieran had no idea she was there. If she tried to leave, though, they’d know immediately.

“These are Shadowhunter politics,” Kieran said. There was something in his voice, Emma thought. Something different. “It is not something I understand. It is not my fight.”

“It is your fight,” Cristina replied. Emma had rarely heard her speak with such intensity. “You fight for what you love. We all do.” She hesitated. “Your heart is hidden, but I know you love Mark. I know you love Faerie. Fight for that, Kieran.”

“Cristina—” Kieran began, but Cristina had already hurried away; she emerged from her side of the bookcase and saw Emma immediately. She looked surprised, then guilty, and hurried quickly from the room.

Kieran started to follow but stopped halfway across the room and leaned his hands on the table, bowing his head.

Emma started to edge out from behind the bookcase, hoping to creep to the door unnoticed. She should have known better than to try to sneak by a faerie, she realized ruefully; Kieran looked up at the first tap of her shoes on the polished wood floor. “Emma?”

“Just going,” she said. “Don’t mind me.”

“But I wish to mind you,” he said, coming out from behind the table. He was all graceful angles, pallor and darkness. Emma supposed she could see what drew Cristina to him. “I have had cause to understand how much pain I brought to you, when you were whipped by Iarlath,” he said. “I never desired that outcome, yet I did cause it. I cannot change that, but I can offer my sincere regrets and swear myself to accomplish any task that you set me.”

Emma had not been expecting this. “Any task? Like, you would be willing to learn to hula dance?”

“Is that a torture of your people?” said Kieran. “Then yes, I would submit to it, for your sake.”

Sadly Emma put aside the thought of Kieran in a grass skirt. “You fought on our side in the Unseelie Court,” she said. “You brought Mark and Cristina back safely with you, and they mean everything to me. You’ve proven yourself a true friend, Kieran. You have my forgiveness and you don’t need to do anything else to earn it.”

He actually blushed, the touch of color warming his pale cheeks. “That is not what a faerie would say.”

“It’s what I say,” Emma said cheerfully.