Magnus thought of the joy on Wil ’s face as he had stood bleeding in Camil e’s living room, clutching the demon tooth in his hand. Somehow, I don’t think it’s the stars that have changed.
“A Shadowhunter?” Tessa gasped. “That’s not possible.” She whirled around and looked at Charlotte, whose face mirrored her own shock. “It isn’t possible, is it? Wil told me that the offspring of Shadowhunters and demons are stil born.”
Charlotte was shaking her head. “No. No, it isn’t possible.”
“But if Jessamine has to tel the truth—” Tessa’s voice wavered.
“She has to tel the truth as she believes it,” said Charlotte. “If your brother lied to her but she believed him, she wil speak it as if it were the truth.”
“Nate would never lie to me,” Jessamine spat.
“If Tessa’s mother was a Shadowhunter,” said Charlotte coldly, “then Nate is also a Shadowhunter. Shadowhunter blood breeds true. Did he ever mention that to you? That he was a Shadowhunter?”
Jessamine looked revolted. “Nate isn’t a Shadowhunter!” she cried. “I would have known! I would never have married—” She broke off, biting down on her lip.
“Wel , it’s one or the other, Jessamine,” said Charlotte. “Either you married a Shadowhunter, a truly supreme irony, or, more likely, you married a liar who used and discarded you. He must have known you’d be caught eventual y. And what did he think would happen to you then?”
“Nothing.” Jessamine looked shaken. “He said you were weak. That you would not punish me. That you could not bring yourself to truly harm me.”
“He was wrong,” said Charlotte. “You are a traitor to the Clave. So is Benedict Lightwood. When the Consul hears of al this—”
Jessamine laughed, a thin, broken sound. “Tel him,” she said. “That’s exactly what Mortmain wants.” She sputtered. “D-don’t bother asking me why. I don’t know. But I know he wants it. So tattle al you like, Charlotte. It wil only put you in his power.”
Charlotte gripped the footboard of the bed, her hands whitening. “Where is Mortmain?”
Jessamine shuddered, shaking her head, her hair whipping back and forth. “No . . .”
“Where is Mortmain?”
“H-he,” she gasped. “He—” Jessamine’s face was almost purple, her eyes bugging out of her head. She was clutching the Sword so tightly that blood wel ed around her fingers. Tessa looked at Charlotte in horror. “Idris,” Jessamine gasped at last, and slumped back against the pil ow.
Charlotte’s face froze. “Idris?” she echoed. “Mortmain is in Idris, our homeland?”
Jessamine’s eyelids fluttered. “No. He is not there.”
“Jessamine!” Charlotte looked as if she were going to leap on the girl and shake her til her teeth rattled. “How can he be in Idris and not be?
Save yourself, you stupid girl. Tel us where he is!”
“Stop!” Jessamine cried out. “Stop, it hurts. . . .”
Charlotte gave her a long, hard look. Then she went to the door of the room; when she returned, it was with Brother Enoch in tow. She crossed her arms over her chest and indicated Jessamine with a jerk of her chin. “There is something wrong, Brother. I asked her where Mortmain was; she said Idris. When I asked again, she denied it.” Her voice hardened. “Jessamine! Has Mortmain breached the wards of Idris?”
Jessamine made a choking sound; her breath wheezed in and out of her chest. “No, he has not. . . . I swear . . . Charlotte, please . . .”
Charlotte. Brother Enoch spoke firmly, his words echoing in Tessa’s mind. Enough. There is some sort of block in the girl’s mind, something placed there by Mortmain. He taunts us with the idea of Idris, yet she confesses he is not there. These blocks are strong. Continue to question her in this manner, and her heart may well fail her.
Charlotte sagged back. “Then what . . .”
Let me take her to the Silent City. We have our ways of seeking out the secrets locked in the mind, secrets even the girl herself may not be aware she knows.
Brother Enoch withdrew the Sword from Jessamine’s grasp. She seemed barely to notice. Her gaze was on Charlotte, her eyes wide and panicked. “The City of Bones?” she whispered. “Where the dead lie? No! I wil not go there! I cannot bear that place!”
“Then tel us where Mortmain is,” said Charlotte, her voice like ice.
Jessamine only began to sob. Charlotte ignored her. Brother Enoch lifted the girl to her feet; Jessamine struggled, but the Silent Brother held her in an iron grip, his other hand on the hilt of the Mortal Sword.
“Charlotte!” Jessamine shrieked piteously. “Charlotte, please, not the Silent City! Lock me in the crypt, give me to the Council, but please do not send me alone to that—that graveyard! I shal die of fear!”
“You should have thought of that before you betrayed us,” said Charlotte. “Brother Enoch, take her, please.”