City of Lost Souls

Alec laughed.

The Queen’s eyes flashed. A moment later Alec staggered back with a cry. He was holding his hands out before him, gaping, as the skin on them wrinkled and his hands curved inward, bent, the joints swollen. His back hunched, his hair graying, his blue eyes fading and sinking into deep wrinkles. Clary gasped. Where Alec had been, an old man, bent and white-haired, stood trembling.

“How swift mortal loveliness does fade,” the Queen gloated. “Look at yourself, Alexander Lightwood. I give you a glimpse of yourself in a mere threescore years. What will your warlock lover say then of your beauty?”

Alec’s chest was heaving. Isabelle stepped quickly to his side and took his arm. “Alec, it’s nothing. It’s a glamour.” She turned on the Queen. “Take it off him! Take it off!”

“If you and yours will speak to me with more respect, then I might consider it.”

“We will,” Clary said quickly. “We apologize for any rudeness.”

The Queen sniffed. “I rather miss your Jace,” she said. “Of all of you, he was the prettiest and the best-mannered.”

“We miss him too,” said Clary in a low voice. “We didn’t mean to be ill-mannered. We humans can be difficult in our grief.”

“Hmph,” said the Queen, but she snapped her fingers and the glamour fell from Alec. He was himself again, though white-faced and stunned-looking. The Queen shot him a superior look, and turned her attention to Clary.

“There is a set of rings,” said the Queen. “They belonged to my father. I desire the return of these objects, for they are faerie-made and possess great power. They allow us to speak to one another, mind to mind, as your Silent Brothers do. At present I have it on good authority that they are on display in the Institute.”

“I remember seeing something like that,” Izzy said slowly. “Two faerie-work rings in a glass case on the second floor of the library.”

“You want me to steal something from the Institute?” Clary said, surprised. Of all the favors she might have guessed the Queen would ask for, this one wasn’t high on the list.

“It is not theft,” said the Queen, “to return an item to its rightful owners.”

“And then you’ll find Jace for us?” said Clary. “And don’t say ‘perhaps.’ What will you do exactly?”

“I will assist you in finding him,” said the Queen. “I give you my word that my help would be invaluable. I can tell you, for instance, why all of your tracking spells have been for naught. I can tell you in what city he is most likely to be found—”

“But the Clave questioned you,” interrupted Simon. “How did you lie to them?”

“They never asked the correct questions.”

“Why lie to them?” demanded Isabelle. “Where is your allegiance in all this?”

“I have none. Jonathan Morgenstern could be a powerful ally if I do not make him an enemy first. Why endanger him or earn his ire at no benefit to ourselves? The Fair Folk are an old people; we do not make hasty decisions but first wait to see in what direction the wind blows.”

“But these rings mean enough to you that if we get them, you’ll risk making him angry?” Alec asked.

But the Queen only smiled, a lazy smile, ripe with promise. “I think that is quite enough for today,” she said. “Return to me with the rings and we will speak again.”

Clary hesitated, turning to look at Alec, and then Isabelle. “You’re all right with this? Stealing from the Institute?”

“If it means finding Jace,” Isabelle said.

Alec nodded. “Whatever it takes.”

Clary turned back to the Queen, who was watching her with an expectant gaze. “Then, I think we have ourselves a bargain.”

The Queen stretched and gave a contented smile. “Fare thee well, little Shadowhunters. And a word of warning, though you have done nothing to deserve it. You might well consider the wisdom of this hunt for your friend. For as is often the happenstance with that which is precious and lost, when you find him again, he may well not be quite as you left him.”