City of Heavenly Fire

“I guess I didn’t think you’d know it,” Clary said, reeling.

“I’m not stupid,” Emma said, with an air of annoyance that had Clary straightening up quickly before she could laugh.

“No, you’re not. You’re really smart,” said Clary. “And I’m glad you know who I am, because I want you to know you can come talk to me anytime. Not just about what happened at the Institute—about whatever you want. And you can talk to Jace, too. Do you need to know where to find us?”

Emma shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice soft again. “I know where the Inquistor’s house is.”

“Okay.” Clary folded her hands, mostly to keep herself from reaching out and hugging the girl. She didn’t think Emma would appreciate it. Clary turned toward the door.

“If you’re Jace Lightwood’s girlfriend, you should have a better sword,” Emma said suddenly, and Clary glanced down at the blade she’d strapped on that morning, an old one she’d packed with her belongings from New York.

She touched the hilt. “This one isn’t good?”

Emma shook her head. “Not good at all.”

She sounded so serious that Clary smiled. “Thanks for the advice.”





4

DARKER THAN GOLD


When Clary knocked on the door of the Inquisitor’s house, it was opened by Robert Lightwood.

For a moment she froze, unsure what to say. She had never had a conversation with Jace’s adoptive father, had never known him well at all. He had been a shadow in the background, usually behind Maryse with his hand on her chair. He was a big, dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard. She could not imagine him being friends with her own father, though she knew he had been in Valentine’s Circle. There were too many lines on his face, and there was too hard a set to his jaw, for her to imagine him young.

When he looked at her, she saw that his eyes were a very dark blue, so dark, she had always thought they were black. His expression didn’t change; she could feel disapproval radiating off him. She suspected Jia wasn’t the only one annoyed that she’d run out of the Council meeting after Emma. “If you’re looking for my children, they’re upstairs,” was all he said. “Top floor.”

She passed by him, into the extremely grand front room. The house, the one officially designated to the Inquisitor and his or her family, was grand in its scope, with high ceilings and heavy, expensive-looking furniture. It was a large enough space to have interior archways, a massive grand staircase, and a chandelier that hung down from the ceiling, glowing with dim witchlight. She wondered where Maryse was, and if she liked the house.

“Thanks,” Clary said.

Robert Lightwood shrugged and disappeared into the shadows without another word. Clary took the stairs two at a time, passing several landings before she reached the top floor, which was up a flight of steep attic stairs that led to a corridor. A door down the hall was half-open; she could hear voices from the other side.

With a perfunctory knock she stepped inside. The walls of the attic room were painted white, and there was a massive armoire in the corner, both doors flung open—Alec’s clothes, practical and a little shabby, hanging on one side, and Jace’s, crisp in blacks and grays, on the other. Their gear was neatly folded along the bottom.

Clary almost smiled; she wasn’t entirely sure why. There was something about Alec and Jace’s sharing a room that she found endearing. She wondered if they kept each other up at night talking, the way she and Simon always had.

Alec and Isabelle were perched on the sill of the window. Behind them Clary could see the colors of sunset sparking off the water of the canal below. Jace was sprawled on one of the single beds, his boots rather defiantly planted on the velvet coverlet.

“I think they mean they can’t just wait around for Sebastian to attack more Institutes,” Alec was saying. “That would be hiding. Shadowhunters don’t hide.”

Jace rubbed his cheek against his shoulder; he looked tired, his pale hair rumpled. “Feels like hiding,” he said. “Sebastian’s out there; we’re in here. Double-warded. All the Institutes emptied out. No one to protect the world from demons. Who will watch the watchers?”

Alec sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Hopefully it won’t be for long.”

“Hard to imagine what would happen,” Isabelle said. “A world with no Shadowhunters. Demons everywhere, Downworlders attacking one another.”

“If I were Sebastian—” Jace started.

“But you’re not. You’re not Sebastian,” Clary said.

They all looked over at her. Alec and Jace looked absolutely nothing alike, Clary thought, but every once in a while there was a similarity in the way they glanced or gestured that reminded her that they’d been raised together. They both looked curious, a little concerned. Isabelle seemed more tired, and upset.

“You all right?” Jace said by way of greeting, giving her a lopsided smile. “How’s Emma?”