Gideon glanced around the room. As always his green eyes were calm, unruffled. Wil , behind him, seemed to burn with bright energy by contrast, even when he was simply standing stil . “You cal ed on me?” Gideon said, and she realized that of course, looking at her, he was seeing Jessamine. “And I am here, though I know not why, or what for.”
“To train Sophie, ostensibly,” said Charlotte. “And also to look after the Institute while we’re gone. We need a Shadowhunter of age to be present, and you qualify. In fact, it was Sophie who suggested you.”
“And how long wil you be gone?”
“Two hours, three. Not al night.”
“Al right.” Gideon began to unbutton his cloak. There was dust on his boots, and his hair looked as if he had been out in the cold wind, hatless.
“My father would say it was good practice for when I run the place.”
Wil muttered something under his breath that sounded like “bloody cheek.” He looked at Charlotte, who shook her head at him minutely.
“It may be that the Institute wil be yours one day,” she said to Gideon quite mildly. “In any case, we’re grateful for your assistance. The Institute is the responsibility of al Shadowhunters, after al . These are our dwel ing places—our Idris away from home.”
Gideon turned to Sophie. “Are you ready to train?”
She nodded. They left the room together in a group, Gideon and Sophie turning right to make their way to the training room, the rest of them heading for the stairs. Bridget’s mournful yowl was even louder out here, and Tessa heard Gideon say something to Sophie about it, and Sophie’s soft voice in response, before they were too far away for her to hear them anymore.
It seemed natural to fal into step beside Jem as they went downstairs and through the nave of the cathedral. She was walking close enough to him that though they did not speak, she could feel the warmth of him against her side, the brush of his bare hand against hers as they stepped outside. Sunset was coming. The sky had begun to take on the bronze sheen that came just before twilight. Cyril was waiting on the front stairs, looking so much like Thomas that it hurt one’s heart to look at him. He was carrying a long, thin dagger, which he handed off to Wil without a word; Wil took it and put it through his belt.
Charlotte turned and put her hand against Tessa’s cheek. “We shal see you at the warehouse,” she said. “You wil be perfectly safe, Tessa. And thank you, for doing this for us.” Charlotte dropped her hand and went down the steps, Henry fol owing her, and Wil just after. Jem hesitated, just for a moment, and Tessa—remembering a night like this one, when he had run up the steps to bid her good-bye—pressed her fingers lightly against his wrist.
“Mizpah,” she said.
She heard him suck in his breath. The Shadowhunters were getting into the carriage; he turned and kissed her quickly on the cheek, before spinning and running down the steps after the others; none of them seemed to have noticed, but Tessa put her hand to her face as Jem climbed, last, into the carriage and Henry made his way up to the driver’s seat. The gates of the Institute swung open, and the carriage clattered out into the darkening afternoon.
“Shal we go, then, miss?” Cyril inquired. Despite how much he looked like Thomas, Tessa thought, he had a less diffident demeanor. He looked her directly in the eye when he spoke, and the corners of his mouth always seemed to be about to crinkle into a smile. She wondered if there was always one calmer and one more high-strung brother, like Gabriel and Gideon.
“Yes, I think we—” Tessa stopped suddenly, one foot about to descend the steps. It was ridiculous, she knew, and yet—she had taken off the clockwork angel to dress herself in Jessamine’s clothes. She had not put it back on. She couldn’t wear it—Nate would recognize it immediately— but she had meant to put it into her pocket for luck, and she had forgotten. She hesitated now. It was more than sil y superstition; twice now the angel had literal y saved her life.
She turned. “I have forgotten something. Wait here for me, Cyril. I’l be only a moment.”
The door to the Institute was stil open; she charged back through it and up the stairs, through the hal s and into the corridor that led to Jessamine’s room—where she froze.
Jessamine’s hal was the same hal that led to the steps to the training room. She had seen Sophie and Gideon disappear down it minutes ago.
Only, they had not disappeared; they were stil there. The light was low, and they were only shadows in the dimness, but Tessa could see them plainly: Sophie, standing against the wal , and Gideon pressing her hand.
Tessa took a step backward, her heart jerking inside her chest. Neither of them saw her. They seemed entirely concentrated on each other.
Gideon leaned in then, murmuring something to Sophie; gently he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. Tessa’s stomach tensed, and she turned and crept away, as soundlessly as she could.