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

Jaime took his hand, and that was when Diego knew it was bad indeed. He begged Jaime silently not to lie to him or to pity him.

Jaime’s smile was slow and crooked. “I think I will be the pretty one in the family now,” he said. “But at least you are still very muscular.”

Diego choked on a laugh, on the taste of blood, on the strangeness of it all. He wound his fingers into his brother’s, and held on tight.

*

The walk across the field was surreal.

As the siblings came closer to Emma and Julian, other Shadowhunters drew nearer to the Blackthorns, sometimes looking puzzled, sometimes almost ashamed. Dru knew they felt that the group was walking toward certain death. Some called out that they should leave Tavvy behind, but he only pressed closer to his brothers and sisters, shaking his head.

Emma and Julian were clearly making their way toward the city. They moved like shining shadows, closing the distance between themselves and the barricade of Shadowhunters who stood between them and Alicante.

“We need to get to them,” she muttered, but the crowd in front of them was forming another sort of barricade. She saw Shadowhunters she recognized among them—Anush and Divya Joshi, Luana Carvalho, Kadir Safar, and even some Downworlders—Bat Velasquez and Kwasi Bediako among them—who were calling out to them not to approach Julian and Emma, that it wasn’t safe.

She glanced at the others in panic. “What do we do?”

“I cannot shoot them with elf-bolts,” Mark said. “They mean well.”

“Of course not!” Helen looked horrified. “Please!” she called out. “Let us pass!”

But her voice was lost in the roar of the crowd, which was jostling them back, away from the city, away from Emma and Jules. Dru had begun to panic when they heard the thunder of hooves.

Shadowhunters moved reluctantly back as Windspear, Kieran on his back, parted the crowd. His flanks were lathered with sweat; he had clearly raced across the field. Kieran’s panicked eyes flew across the group until he found Mark, and then Cristina.

The three of them exchanged a swift and speaking look. Mark flung his hand up, as if he were reaching out to the new Unseelie King. “Kieran!” he shouted. “Help us! We need to get to Emma and Julian!”

Dru waited for Kieran to say that it was dangerous. Impossible. Instead he bent low over Windspear’s neck; he seemed to be whispering to the horse.

A moment later, the sky darkened with flying shapes. The Wild Hunt had come. Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike scattered as the Hunt swooped low. Suddenly the Blackthorns could move forward again, and they did, moving as fast as they could toward Emma and Julian, who had nearly closed the gap between themselves and the line of Shadowhunters guarding the city.

As they passed, Dru reached up to wave at Diana and Gwyn, who had detached themselves from the Wild Hunt and were preparing to land alongside the Blackthorns. Diana smiled at her and pressed her hand over her heart.

Dru fixed her eyes on the goal ahead. They were nearly there. Kieran had joined them. The crown of Unseelie gleamed on his brow, but his attention was fixed on protecting the Blackthorns. With Windspear rearing, he was keeping the crowd at bay on one side, while Gwyn and Diana did the same on the other.

The field leveled out. They were close now, close enough that Emma and Julian were shining blurs. It was like looking at trees in the forest whose tops you couldn’t see.

Dru took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “Just us now. Just Blackthorns.”

Everyone went still.

Mark pressed his forehead to Cristina’s, his eyes shut, before helping her up onto Windspear, beside Kieran. Kieran squeezed Mark’s hand tightly and wrapped his arms around Cristina as if to say to Mark that he would keep her safe. Aline kissed Helen softly and went to stand by her mother among the crowd. They watched, a small and worried group, as the Blackthorns set off to close the distance between themselves and Emma and Jules.

They stopped a few feet from the giant figures of Julian and Emma. For a moment, the certainty that had carried Dru this far faltered. She had thought only of getting here. Not of what she would do or say when they arrived.

It was Tavvy who stepped forward first. “Jules!” he shouted. “Emma! We’re here!”

And at last Emma and Julian reacted.

They turned away from the city and looked down at the Blackthorns. Dru craned her head back. She could see their expressions. They were completely blank. No recognition lived in their glowing eyes.

“We can’t just tell them to stop,” said Mark. “Everyone’s already tried that.”

Tavvy moved a little bit farther forward. The eyes of the giants followed him like massive lamps, glowing and inhuman.

Dru wanted to reach out and snatch him back.

“Jules?” he said, and his voice was small and low and stabbed into Drusilla’s heart. She took a deep breath. If Tavvy could approach them, so could she. She moved to stand behind her younger brother and tilted her shoulders back until she was looking directly up at Emma and Julian. It was like gazing into the sun; her eyes prickled, but she held them open.

“Emma!” she called. “Julian! It’s Dru—Drusilla. Look, everyone is telling you to stop because the battle is won, but I’m not here to say that. I’m here to tell you to stop because we love you. We need you. Come back to us.”

Neither Emma nor Julian moved or changed expression. Dru plowed on, her cheeks burning.

“Don’t leave us,” she said. “Who will watch bad horror movies with me, Julian, if you’re gone? Who will train with me, Emma, and show me everything I’m doing wrong, and how to be better?”

Something shifted behind Dru. Helen had come to stand beside her. She reached her hands out as if she could touch the shining figures before her. “Julian,” she said. “You raised our brothers and sisters when I could not. You sacrificed your childhood to keep our family together. And Emma. You guarded this family when I could not. If you both leave me now, how will I ever get the chance to make it up to you?”

Julian and Emma were still expressionless, but Emma tilted her head slightly, almost as if she was listening.

Mark came forward, laying his slim hand on Dru’s shoulder. He craned his head back. “Julian,” he called. “You showed me how to be part of a family again. Emma, you showed me how to be a friend when I had forgotten friendship. You gave me hope when I was lost.” He stood straight as an elf-bolt, gazing into the sky. “Come back to us.”

Julian shifted. It was a minute movement, but Dru felt her heart leap. Maybe—maybe—

Ty stepped forward, his gear dusty and ripped where bark had torn it. His black hair fell in dark strands across his face. He pushed it away and said, “We lost Livvy. We—we lost her.”

Tears stung the backs of Dru’s eyes. There was something about the tone of Ty’s voice that made it sound as if this were the first time he had realized the finality and irrevocability of Livvy’s death.

Ty’s eyelashes shimmered with tears as he raised his gaze. “We can’t lose you, too. We will be—we will wind up broken. Julian, you taught me what every word I didn’t understand meant—and Emma, you chased off anybody who was ever mean to me. Who will teach me and protect me if you don’t go back to being yourselves?”

There was a great and thundering crash. Julian had fallen to his knees. Dru covered a gasp—he seemed smaller than he had, though still enormous. She could see the black fissures in his glowing skin where red sparks of fire leaked out like blood.

There is heavenly fire burning inside them. And no mortal being can survive that for very long.

“Emma,” Dru whispered. “Julian.”

They weren’t expressionless anymore. Dru had seen statues of mourning angels, of angels thrust through with fiery swords, weeping tears of agony. It was not easy to wield a sword for God.