She pushed Aloysius Starkweather from her mind. “Charlotte runs this Institute,” she said. “And your father wil not take it from her.”
“She deserves to have it taken from her.”
Wil tossed his apple core into the air, at the same time drawing a knife from his belt and throwing it. The knife and the apple sailed across the room together, somehow managing to stick into the wal just beside Gabriel’s head, the knife driven cleanly through the core and into the wood.
“Say that again,” said Wil , “and I’l darken your daylights for you.”
Gabriel’s face worked. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Gideon took a step forward, warning in every line of his posture. “Gabriel—”
But his brother ignored him. “You don’t even know what your precious Charlotte’s father did to mine, do you? I only just learned it myself a few days ago. My father final y broke down and told us. He’d protected the Fairchilds til then.”
“Your father?” Wil ’s tone was incredulous. “Protected the Fairchilds?”
“He was protecting us as wel .” Gabriel’s words tumbled over themselves. “My mother’s brother—my uncle Silas—was one of Granvil e Fairchild’s closest friends. Then Uncle Silas broke the Law—a tiny thing, a minor infraction—and Fairchild discovered it. Al he cared about was the Law, not friendship, not loyalty. He went straight to the Clave.” Gabriel’s voice rose. “My uncle killed himself in shame, and my mother died of the grief. The Fairchilds don’t care about anyone but themselves and the Law!”
For a moment the room was silent; even Wil was speechless, looking utterly taken aback. It was Tessa who spoke at last, “But that is the fault of Charlotte’s father. Not of Charlotte.”
Gabriel was white with rage, his green eyes standing out against his pale skin. “You don’t understand,” he said viciously. “You’re not a Shadowhunter. We have blood pride. Family pride. Granvil e Fairchild wanted the Institute to go to his daughter, and the Consul made it happen.
But even though Fairchild is dead, we can stil take that away from him. He was hated—so hated that no one would have married Charlotte if he hadn’t paid off the Branwel s to hand Henry over. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows he doesn’t real y love her. How could he—”
There was a crack, like the sound of a rifle shot, and Gabriel fel silent. Sophie had slapped him across the face. His pale skin was already beginning to redden. Sophie was staring at him, breathing hard, an incredulous look on her face, as if she could not believe what she had done.
Gabriel’s hands tightened at his sides, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t, Tessa knew. He could not strike a girl, a girl who was not even a Shadowhunter or a Downworlder but merely a mundane. He looked to his brother, but Gideon, expressionless, met his eyes and shook his head slowly; with a choked sound Gabriel spun on his heel and stalked from the room.
“Sophie!” Tessa exclaimed, reaching for her. “Are you al right?”
But Sophie was looking anxiously up at Gideon. “I’m so sorry, sir,” she said. “There’s no excuse—I lost my head, and I—”
“It was a wel -placed blow,” Gideon said calmly. “I see you’ve been paying attention to my training.”
Wil was sitting up on the bench, his blue eyes lively and curious. “Was it true?” he said. “That story Gabriel just told us.”
Gideon shrugged. “Gabriel worships our father,” he said. “Anything Benedict says is like a pronouncement from on high. I knew my uncle had kil ed himself, but not the circumstances, until the day after we first came back from training you. Father asked us how the Institute seemed to be run, and I told him it seemed in fine condition, no different from the Institute in Madrid. In fact, I told him I could see no evidence that Charlotte was doing a lax job. That was when he told us this story.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” said Tessa, “what was it that your uncle had done?”
“Silas? Fel in love with his parabatai. Not, actual y, as Gabriel says, a minor infraction but a major one. Romantic relationships between parabatai are absolutely forbidden. Though even the best-trained Shadowhunter can fal prey to emotion. The Clave would have separated the two of them, though, and that Silas couldn’t face. That’s why he kil ed himself. My mother was consumed with rage and grief. I can wel believe that her dying wish was that we would take the Institute from the Fairchilds. Gabriel was younger than I when our mother died—only five years old, clinging to her skirts stil —and it seems to me his feelings are too overwhelming for him now to quite understand them. Whereas I—I feel that the sins of the fathers should not be visited on the sons.”
“Or the daughters,” said Wil .