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

Diana took a sip of coffee. Emma had tea; everyone else was mainlining caffeine and sugar. Alec had gone out in a state of mad happiness and bought dozens of cinnamon rolls, doughnuts, and pies for breakfast. This had had the effect of getting everyone to rush at top speed to the library, including Kit and Ty. Even the most secretive fifteen-year-old boy wasn’t immune to glazed apple fritters.

“I told some of you last night, but it’s probably best I explain it again,” she said. “We were able to get a great deal of water from Lake Lyn with the help of the Wild Hunt; they are currently distributing it to warlocks all over the world.”

“The Clave and Council have noticed nothing,” said Helen. “Aline spoke to her father this morning and he confirmed it.” Aline was in the office now, tracking the progress of the deliveries of the lake water to warlocks in even the remotest places.

Emma raised her Styrofoam cup of tea. “Good job, Diana!”

A cheer went around the table; Diana smiled. “I could not have done it without Gwyn,” she said. “Or without Kieran. It is faeries who have helped us.”

“The Children of Lilith will indeed be in debt to the Children of the Courts after this day, Kieran Kingson,” said Magnus, staring intently in what he clearly thought was Kieran’s direction.

“That was a very nice speech, Bane,” said Jace. “Unfortunately, you’re talking to a doughnut.”

“I appreciate the sentiment regardless,” said Kieran. He had blushed at Diana’s words and the tops of his cheekbones were still pink. It made a nice contrast with his blue hair.

Diana cleared her throat. “We brought the lake water to the blight,” she said. “It seemed to stop it from spreading, but the land is still ruined. I don’t know if it will heal.”

“Tessa says it will stop affecting the warlocks,” said Cristina. “That the land will always be scarred, but the sickness will no longer spread.”

“Did you see anything else in Idris?” Julian asked. Emma looked at him sideways; it hurt to look at him too directly. “Anything else we should know?”

Diana turned the cup in her hands around thoughtfully. “Idris feels—empty and strange with no Downworlders there. Some of its magic has fled. A Brocelind without faeries is just a forest. It is as if a piece of the soul of Idris is gone.”

“Helen—” It was Aline, slamming the door behind her; she looked disheveled and worried. In her hand was a piece of slightly charred paper—a fire-message. She stopped dead as she seemed to realize how many other people were in the library. “I just talked to Maia in New York. A mob of Shadowhunters descended on a group of harmless faeries and slaughtered them. Kaelie Whitewillow is dead.” Aline’s voice was tight with strain.

“How dare they?” Magnus sat up straight, his face alive with fury. He slammed the vial down on the table. “The Cold Peace wasn’t enough? Banishing Downworlders who have lived in Idris for centuries wasn’t enough? Now it’s murder?”

“Magnus—” Alec began, clearly worried.

Blue flame shot from Magnus’s hands. Everyone jerked backward; Dru grabbed Tavvy. Kieran flung an arm across Cristina to shield her; so did Mark, at the same time. No one looked more startled than Cristina.

Emma raised an eyebrow at Cristina across the table. Cristina blushed, and both Mark and Kieran quickly dropped their arms.

The blue flame was gone in a moment; there was a streak of char on the table, but no other damage. Magnus looked down at his hands in surprise.

“Your magic’s back!” said Clary.

Magnus winked at her. “Some say it was never gone, biscuit.”

“This can’t go on,” Jace said. “This attack was in revenge for our deaths.”

Clary agreed. “We have to tell people we’re alive. We can’t let our names become instruments of vengeance.”

A hubbub of voices broke out at the table. Jace was looking sick; Alec had a hand on his parabatai’s shoulder. Magnus was grimly studying his hands, still blue at the fingertips.

“Be realistic, Clary,” Helen said. “How do you plan to reveal yourselves and still keep yourselves safe?”

“I don’t care about being safe,” Clary said.

“No, you never have,” Magnus pointed out. “But you are a significant weapon against the Cohort. You and Jace. Don’t take yourselves out of the equation.”

“A message from Idris came while I was in the office,” said Aline. “The parley with the Unseelie King and Horace Dearborn will take place on the Imperishable Fields in two days.”

“Who’s going to be there?” said Emma.

“Just the Cohort and the King,” she said.

“So they could say anything at all to each other, and we wouldn’t know?” said Mark.

Aline frowned. “No, that’s the odd thing. The letter said the parley would be Projected throughout Alicante. Everyone in the city will be able to see it.”

“Horace wants to be observed,” Julian said, half to himself.

“What do you mean?” Emma asked him.

He frowned, clearly puzzled and frustrated. “I don’t—I’m not entirely sure—”

“Manuel spoke of this in Faerie,” said Mark, as if suddenly remembering something. “Did he not, Kieran? He said to Oban: ‘When every Shadowhunter sees you meet and achieve a mutually beneficial peace, all will realize that you and Horace Dearborn are the greatest of leaders, able to achieve the alliance your forefathers could not.’?”

“Oban and Manuel knew this would happen?” said Emma. “How could they have known?”

“Somehow, this is the unfolding of the Cohort’s plan,” said Magnus. “And that can’t be good.” He frowned. “It only involves half of Faerie. The Unseelie half.”

“But they are the half who are trying to destroy Nephilim. The half that opened the Portal to Thule and brought the blight,” said Mark.

“And it is a fact that many Shadowhunters will simply think that it is another sign the Fair Folk are evil,” said Cristina. “The Cold Peace made little distinction between Seelie and Unseelie, though it was only the Seelie Court who fought on Sebastian Morgenstern’s side.”

“It was also only the Seelie Court who accepted the terms of the Cold Peace,” said Kieran. “In the King’s mind, it has been war between Unseelie and Nephilim since then. Clearly, Oban and the Cohort are planning to make that war a reality. Oban does not care about his people, and neither does Horace Dearborn. They plan for the parley to fail before all, and Dearborn and Oban will tear power from the ruins.”

Julian was still frowning, as if trying to solve a puzzle. “Power does come from wartime,” he said. “But . . .”

“Now that the warlocks are cured, it’s time for us to stop hiding,” Jace said. “We need to intercede in Idris—before this sham parley.”

“Intercede?” said Julian.

“A team of us will go in,” said Jace. “The usual suspects—we’ll bring Isabelle and Simon, Bat and Maia and Lily, the core group we trust. We’ll have the advantage of surprise. We break into the Gard, free the Consul, and take the Inquisitor prisoner. We get him to confess what he’s done.”

“He won’t confess,” Julian said. “He’s a true believer. And if he dies for his cause, so much the better for him.”

Everyone looked at Julian in some surprise.

“Well, you can’t be suggesting we let the Cohort go on as they are,” Cristina said.

“No,” said Julian. “I am suggesting we raise a resistance.”

“There aren’t enough of us,” said Clary. “And those who oppose the Cohort are scattered all over. How are we to know who is loyal to Horace and who isn’t?”

“I was in the Council room before Annabel killed my sister,” Julian said. Emma felt her spine freeze; surely the others would notice how flatly he spoke about Livvy? “I saw how people reacted to Horace. And at the funeral, too, when he spoke. There are those who oppose him. I’m suggesting we reach out to Downworlders, to faeries, to warlocks, and to the Shadowhunters we know are against the Cohort, to form a bigger coalition.”

He’s thinking of Livvy in Thule, Emma realized. Her rebels—Downworlders and Shadowhunters together. But he should say rebels, then. Freedom fighters. Livvy inspired people to fight—

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kieran get up and quietly leave the room. Mark and Cristina watched him go.