“If Benedict Lightwood is working for Mortmain, he cannot be al owed to have custody of the Institute,” said Tessa. “In fact, that bal he threw last night ought to be enough to disqualify him.”
“The problem wil be proving it,” said Jem. “Benedict wil deny everything, and it wil be his word against yours—and you are a Downworlder—”
“There’s Wil ,” said Charlotte, and frowned. “Speaking of, where is Wil ?”
“Having a lie-in, no doubt,” said Jem, “and as for him being a witness, wel , everyone thinks Wil is a lunatic as it is—”
“Ah,” said a voice from the doorway, “having your annual everyone-thinks-Wil -is-a-lunatic meeting, are you?”
“It’s biannual,” said Jem. “And no, this is not that meeting.”
Wil ’s eyes sought Tessa across the room. “They know about Jessamine?” he said. He looked tired, but not as tired as Tessa would have thought; he was pale, but there was a suppressed excitement about him that was almost like—happiness. She felt her stomach drop as memories of the previous night—the stars, the balcony, the kissing—swept over her.
When had he gotten home last night? she thought. How had he? And why did he look so—excited? Was he horrified by what had happened on the balcony between them last night, or did he find it amusing? And dear God, had he told Jem? Warlock powders, she told herself desperately.
She had not been herself, acting of her own wil . Surely Jem would understand that. It would break her heart to hurt him. If he even cared . . .
“Yes, they know al about Jessamine,” she said hastily. “She was questioned with the Mortal Sword and taken to the Silent City, and right now we’re having a meeting about what to do next, and it’s dreadful y important. Charlotte’s very upset.”
Charlotte looked at her in puzzlement.
“Wel , you are,” Tessa said, nearly out of breath from speaking so quickly. “And you were asking for Wil —”
“And here I am,” said Wil , throwing himself down into a chair near Jem. One of his arms had been bandaged, his sleeve pul ed down partway over it. The nails of his hand were crusted with dried blood. “Glad to hear Jessamine’s in the Silent City. Best place for her. What’s the next step?”
“That’s the meeting we were trying to have,” said Jem.
“Wel , who knows she’s there?” Wil asked practical y.
“Just us,” said Charlotte, “and Brother Enoch, but he’s agreed not to inform the Clave for another day or so. Until we decide what to do. Which reminds me, I shal have some choice words for you, Wil , haring off to Benedict Lightwood’s without informing me, and dragging Tessa with you.”
“There was no time to lose,” said Wil . “By the time we’d have roused you and made you agree to the plan, Nathaniel could have been and gone.
And you can’t say it was a dreadful idea. We’ve learned a great deal about Nathaniel and Benedict Lightwood—”
“Nathaniel Gray and Benedict Lightwood aren’t Mortmain.”
Wil traced a pattern on the air with his long, elegant fingers. “Mortmain is the spider at the heart of the web,” he said. “The more we learn, the more we know how far his reach extends. Before last night we had no clue he had any connection to Lightwood; now we know the man is his puppet. I say we go to the Clave and report Benedict and Jessamine. Let Wayland take care of them. See what Benedict spil s under the Mortal Sword.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No, I—I don’t think we can do that.”
Wil tilted his head back. “Why not?”
“Jessamine said it was exactly what Mortmain wanted us to do. And she said it under the influence of the Mortal Sword. She wasn’t lying.”
“But she could have been wrong,” said Wil . “Mortmain could have foreseen just this circumstance and have had Nate plant the thought in her head for us to discover.”
“D’you think he would have thought ahead like that?” said Henry.
“Assuredly,” said Wil . “The man’s a strategist.” He tapped his temple. “Like me.”
“So you think we should go to the Clave?” asked Jem.
“Bloody hel , no,” said Wil . “What if it is the truth? Then we’l feel like right fools.”
Charlotte threw her hands up. “But you said—”
“I know what I said,” said Wil . “But you have to look at consequences. If we go to the Clave and we’re wrong, then we’ve played into Mortmain’s hands. We stil have a few days before the deadline is up. Going to the Clave early gains us nothing. If we investigate, and can proceed on a surer footing . . .”
“And how do you propose to investigate?” Tessa inquired.