“You do that,” said Wil , but his eyes were on Magnus, blue and anxious. “Please. I have to talk to you.”
Drat the boy, Magnus thought. After an exhausting day spent clearing a memory-blocking spel for a member of the Penhal ow family, he had wanted only to rest. He had stopped listening for Camil e’s step in the hal , or waiting for her message, but he stil preferred this room to others— this room, where her personal touch seemed to cling to the thorned roses on the wal paper, the faint perfume that rose from the draperies. He had looked forward to an evening spent by the fire here—a glass of wine, a book, and being left strictly alone.
But now here was Wil Herondale, his expression a study in pain and desperation, wanting Magnus’s help. He was real y going to have to do something about this annoying softhearted impulse to assist the desperate, Magnus thought. That, and his weakness for blue eyes.
“Very wel ,” he said with a martyred sigh. “You may stay and talk to me. But I warn you, I’m not raising a demon. Not before I’ve had my supper.
Unless you have turned up some sort of hard proof . . .”
“No.” Wil came eagerly into the room, shutting the door in Archer’s face. He reached around and locked it, for good measure, and then strode over to the fire. It was chil y out. The visible bit of window not blocked by drapes showed the square outside darkening to a blackish twilight, leaves blown rattling across the pavement by a brisk-looking wind. Wil drew off his gloves, laid them on the mantel, and stretched his hands out to the flames. “I don’t want you to raise a demon.”
“Huh.” Magnus put his booted feet up on the smal rosewood table before the sofa, another gesture that would have infuriated Camil e, had she been there. “That’s good news, I suppose—”
“I want you to send me through. To the demon realms.”
Magnus choked. “You want me to do what?”
Wil ’s profile was black against the flickering fire. “Create a portal to the demon worlds and send me through. You can do that, can’t you?”
“That’s black magic,” said Magnus. “Not quite necromancy, but—”
“No one need know.”
“Real y.” Magnus’s tone was acid. “These things have a way of getting out. And if the Clave found out I’d sent one of their own, their most promising, to be rent apart by demons in another dimension—”
“The Clave does not consider me promising.” Wil ’s voice was cold. “I am not promising. I am not anything, nor wil I ever be. Not without your help.”
“I am beginning to wonder if you’ve been sent to test me, Wil Herondale.”
Wil gave a harsh little bark of laughter. “By God?”
“By the Clave. Who might as wel be God. Perhaps they simply seek to find out whether I am wil ing to break the Law.”
Wil swung around and stared at him. “I am deadly earnest,” he said. “This is not some sort of test. I cannot go on like this, summoning up demons at random, never having them be the correct one, endless hope, endless disappointment. Every day dawns blacker and blacker, and I wil lose her forever if you—”
“Lose her?” Magnus’s mind fastened on the word; he sat up straight, narrowing his eyes. “This is about Tessa. I knew it was.”
Wil flushed, a wash of color across the pal or of his face. “Not just her.”
“But you love her.”
Wil stared at him. “Of course I do,” he said final y. “I had come to think I would never love anyone, but I love her.”
“Is this curse supposed to be some business about taking away your ability to love? Because that’s nonsense if I’ve ever heard it. Jem’s your parabatai. I’ve seen you with him. You love him, don’t you?”
“Jem is my great sin,” said Wil . “Don’t talk to me about Jem.”
“Don’t talk to you about Jem, don’t talk to you about Tessa. You want me to open a portal to the demon worlds for you, and you won’t talk to me or tel me why? I won’t do it, Wil .” Magnus crossed his arms over his chest.
Wil rested a hand on the mantel. He was very stil , the flames showing the outlines of him, the clear beautiful profile, the grace of his long slender hands. “I saw my family today,” he said, and then amended that quickly. “My sister. I saw my younger sister. Cecily. I knew they lived, but I never thought I would see them again. They cannot be near me.”
“Why?” Magnus made his voice soft; he felt he was on the verge of something, some sort of breakthrough with this odd, infuriating, damaged, shattered boy. “What did they do that was so terrible?”
“What did they do?” Wil ’s voice rose. “What did they do? Nothing. It is me. I am poison. Poison to them. Poison to anyone who loves me.”
“Wil —”
“I lied to you,” Wil said, turning suddenly away from the fire.