“Mauve,” said Wil .
Tessa looked over at Jem for help, but he only smiled. “Perhaps we should discuss strategy,” he said. “Starkweather hates Charlotte but knows that she sent us. So how to worm our way into his good graces?”
“Tessa can utilize her feminine wiles,” said Wil . “Charlotte said he enjoys a pretty face.”
“How did Charlotte explain my presence?” Tessa inquired, realizing belatedly that she should have asked this earlier.
“She didn’t real y; she just gave our names. She was quite curt,” said Wil . “I think it fal s to us to concoct a plausible story.”
“We can’t say I’m a Shadowhunter; he’l know immediately that I’m not. No Marks.”
“And no warlock mark. He’l think she’s a mundane,” said Jem. “She could Change, but . . .”
Wil eyed her speculatively. Though Tessa knew it meant nothing—worse than nothing, real y—she stil felt his gaze on her like the brush of a finger across the back of her neck, making her shiver. She forced herself to return his look stonily. “Perhaps we could say she’s a mad maiden aunt who insists on chaperoning us everywhere.”
“My aunt or yours?” Jem inquired.
“Yes, she doesn’t real y look like either of us, does she? Perhaps she’s a girl who’s fal en madly in love with me and persists in fol owing me wherever I go.”
“My talent is shape-shifting, Wil , not acting,” said Tessa, and at that, Jem laughed out loud. Wil glared at him.
“She had the better of you there, Wil ,” he said. “It does happen sometimes, doesn’t it? Perhaps I should introduce Tessa as my fiancée. We can tel mad old Aloysius that her Ascension is underway.”
“Ascension?” Tessa remembered nothing of the term from the Codex.
Jem said, “When a Shadowhunter wishes to marry a mundane—”
“But I thought that was forbidden?” Tessa asked, as the train slid into a tunnel. It was dark suddenly in their compartment, though she had the feeling nevertheless that Wil was looking at her, that shivering sense that his gaze was on her somehow.
“It is. Unless the Mortal Cup is used to turn that mundane into a Shadowhunter. It is not a common result, but it does happen. If the Shadowhunter in question applies to the Clave for an Ascension for their partner, the Clave is required to consider it for at least three months. Meanwhile, the mundane embarks on a course of study to learn about Shadowhunter culture—”
Jem’s voice was drowned out by the train whistle as the locomotive emerged from the tunnel. Tessa looked at Wil , but he was staring fixedly out the window, not looking at her at al . She must have imagined it.
“It’s not a bad idea, I suppose,” said Tessa. “I do know rather a lot; I’ve finished nearly al of the Codex.”
“It would seem reasonable that I brought you with me,” said Jem. “As a possible Ascender, you might want to learn about Institutes other than the one in London.” He turned to Wil . “What do you think?”
“It seems as fine an idea as any.” Wil was stil looking out the window; the countryside had grown less green, more stark. There were no vil ages visible, only long swathes of gray-green grass and outcroppings of black rock.
“How many Institutes are there, other than the one in London?” Tessa asked.
Jem ticked them off on his hands. “In Britain? London, York, one in Cornwal —near Tintagel—one in Cardiff, and one in Edinburgh. They’re al smal er, though, and report to the London Institute, which in turn reports to Idris.”
“Gideon Lightwood said he was at the Institute in Madrid. What on earth was he doing there?”
“Faffing about, most likely,” said Wil .
“Once we finish our training, at eighteen,” said Jem, as if Wil hadn’t spoken, “we’re encouraged to travel, to spend time at other Institutes, to experience something of Shadowhunter culture in new places. There are always different techniques, local tricks to be learned. Gideon was away for only a few months. If Benedict cal ed him back so soon, he must think that his acquisition of the Institute is assured.” Jem looked troubled.
“But he’s wrong,” Tessa said firmly, and when the troubled look didn’t leave Jem’s gray eyes, she cast about for something to change the subject.
“Where is the Institute in New York?”
“We haven’t memorized al their addresses, Tessa.” There was something in Wil ’s voice, a dangerous undercurrent. Jem looked at him narrowly, and said:
“Is everything al right?”