TableofContents

SonoftheDawn

CastLongShadowsexcerpt

GhostsoftheShadowMarket

1.

SonoftheDawn

byCassandraClareandSarahReesBrennan

2.

CastLongShadows

byCassandraClareandSarahReesBrennan

3.

EveryExquisiteThing

byCassandraClareandMaureenJohnson

4

LearnAboutLoss

byCassandraClareandKellyLink

5.

ADeeperLove

byCassandraClareandMaureenJohnson

6

TheWickedOnes

byCassandraClareandRobinWasserman

7

ThroughBlood,ThroughFire

byCassandraClareandRobinWasserman

8

TheLandILost

byCassandraClareandSarahReesBrennan

TheShadowhunterChronicles

TheMortalInstruments

CityofBones

CityofAshes

CityofGlass

CityofFallenAngels

CityofLostSouls

CityofHeavenlyFire

TheInfernalDevices

ClockworkAngel

ClockworkPrince

ClockworkPrincess

TheDarkArtifices

LadyMidnight

LordofShadows

QueenofAirandDarkness(forthcoming)

TheEldestCurses(withWesleyChu;forthcoming)

TheRedScrollsofMagic

TheLostBookoftheWhite

TheEldestCurses3

TheLastHours(forthcoming)

ChainofGold

ChainofIron

TheLastHours3

TheShadowhunter’sCodex(withJoshuaLewis)

TheBaneChronicles(withSarahReesBrennan&MaureenJohnson)

TalesFromtheShadowhunterAcademy(withSarahReesBrennan,MaureenJohnson&

RobinWasserman)

AHistoryofNotableShadowhuntersandDenizensofDownworld(illustratedbyCassandraJean)

AlsobyCassandraClare

TheMagisteriumSeries(writtenwithHollyBlack)

TheIronTrial

TheCopperGauntlet

TheBronzeKey

TheSilverMask

TheGoldenTower(forthcoming)

Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,placesandincidentsareeithertheproductoftheauthor’simaginationor,ifreal,usedfictitiously.Allstatements,activities,stunts,descriptions,informationandmaterialofanyotherkindcontainedhereinareincludedforentertainmentpurposesonlyandshouldnotbereliedonforaccuracyorreplicatedastheymayresultininjury.

FirstpublishedinGreatBritain2018byWalkerBooksLtd87VauxhallWalk,LondonSE115HJ

“SonoftheDawn”copyright©2018CassandraClaire,LLC“CastLongShadows”copyright©2018CassandraClaire,LLC“NotforHumans”©2013CassandraClaire,LLCandHollyBlackCoverandseriesillustration©2018DavoodDiba

TherightofCassandraClaretobeidentifiedasauthorofthisworkhasbeenassertedbyherinaccordancewiththeCopyright,DesignsandPatentsAct1988

ThisbookhasbeentypesetinDollyProandPterra

Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthisbookmaybereproduced,transmittedorstoredinaninformationretrievalsysteminanyformorbyanymeans,graphic,electronicormechanical,includingphotocopying,tapingandrecording,withoutpriorwrittenpermissionfromthepublisher.

BritishLibraryCataloguinginPublicationData:acataloguerecordforthisbookisavailablefromtheBritishLibrary

ISBN978-1-4063-8370-6(ePub)ISBN978-1-4063-8371-3(PDF)

www.walker.co.uk

SonoftheDawn

NewYorkCity,2000

Every world contains other worlds within it. People wander through all the worldstheycanfind,searchingfortheirhomes.

Some humans thought their world was the only world there was. Little did theyknowofotherworldsasclosetotheirownasaroom,orthedemonstryingtofindadoorthroughtothem,andtheShadowhunterswhobarredthosedoors.Still lessdidtheyknowof theDownworld, thecommunityofmagicalcreatureswhosharedtheirworldandcarvedouttheirownlittlespacetherein.

Every community needs a heart. There had to be a common areawhere everyonecould gather, to trade for goods and secrets, to find love and riches. There wereShadow Markets, where Downworlders and those with the Sight met, all over theworld.Usuallytheywereheldoutside.

EvenmagicwasalittledifferentinNewYork.

TheabandonedtheateronCanalStreethadstoodsincethe1920s,silentwitnesstobutnotpartof theblazeofactivity thatwas thecity.Humanswhodidnothave theSightpassedbyitsterracottafaçadeinahurryabouttheirownaffairs.Iftheysparedthetheateralook,theythoughtitasdarkandstillasever.

Theycouldnotseethehazeoffaerielightthatturnedtheguttedamphitheaterandbareconcretehallstogold.BrotherZachariahcould.

Hewalked,acreatureofsilenceanddarkness, throughhallswithsunshineyellowtiles,panelsofgoldandredblazingontheceilingabovehim.Therewerebustsgrimywithagesetinalcovesalongthewalls,butfortonightfaerieshadcoaxedflowersandivy to twinearound them.Werewolveshadset little twinklingcharmsdepicting themoon and stars in the boarded windows, lending brightness to the decayed redcurtains still hanging in the arched frames. There were lamps with casements thatremindedBrotherZachariahofa time longago,whenheandall theworldhadbeendifferent. In one vast echoing theater room there hung a chandelier that had not

worked in years, but tonight warlock magic had encompassed each bulb with adifferent-colored flame.Likeburning jewels, amethyst and ruby, sapphire andopal,their light created a private world that seemed both new and old, and restored thetheatertoallitsformerglory.Someworldsonlylastedonenight.

IftheMarkethadthepowertolendhimwarmthandilluminationforonlyanight,BrotherZachariahwouldhavetakenit.

Apersistentfaeriewomanhadtriedtosellhimalovecharmfourtimes.Zachariahwishedsuchacharmwouldworkonhim.Creaturesasinhumanashedidnotsleep,butsometimeshelaydownandrested,hopingforsomethinglikepeace.Itnevercame.Hespenthislongnightsfeelingloveslipthroughhisfingers,moreamemorybynowthanafeeling.

BrotherZachariahdidnotbelongtotheDownworld.HewasaShadowhunter,andnotonlyaShadowhunterbutoneofthecloakedandhoodedbrotherhooddedicatedtoarcane secrets and the dead, sworn and runed to silence and withdrawal from anyworld.EvenhisownkindoftenfearedtheSilentBrothers,andDownworldersusuallyavoidedanyShadowhunter,buttheDownworlderswereusedtothepresenceofthisparticular Shadowhunter at Markets now. Brother Zachariah had been coming toShadowMarketsforahundredyears,onalongquestthatevenhehadbeguntobelievewouldbe fruitless.Yethecontinuedsearching.BrotherZachariahhad littleenough,butonethinghedidhavewastime,andhehadalwaystriedtobepatient.

Tonight,though,hehadalreadybeendisappointed.ThewarlockRagnorFellhadnowordforhim.Noneofhisfewothercontacts,painstakinglygatheredoverthedecades,hadattendedthisMarket.HewaslingeringnotbecausehewasenjoyingthisShadowMarket,butbecauseherememberedenjoyingMarketsonce.

Theyhadfeltlikeanescape,butBrotherZachariahhardlyrememberedthewishtoescapefromtheCityofBones,wherehebelonged.Alwaysinthebackofhismind,coldasatidewaitingtowashallotherthingsaway,werethevoicesofhisbrothers.

Theywereurginghimhome.

Brother Zachariah turned under the glitter of diamond-paned windows. He wasleavingtheMarket,makinghiswaythroughthelaughing,bargainingcrowd,whenheheardawoman’svoicesayinghisname.

“TellmeagainwhywewantthisBrotherZachariah.ThenormalNephilimarebadenough. Angel in the veins, stick up the butts, and I bet with Silent Brothers it’s awholestaff.Wedefinitelycan’ttakehimoutforkaraoke.”

Thewomanwas speaking in English, but a boy’s voice replied to her in Spanish:“Quiet.Iseehim.”

It was a pair of vampires, and as he turned, the boy lifted a hand to attractZachariah’sattention.Thevampirewithhishanduplookedfifteenyearsoldatmost,and theother like a youngwomanaboutnineteen,but that toldZachariahnothing.Zachariahstilllookedyoungtoo.

ItwasunusualforastrangeDownworldertowanthisattention.

“BrotherZachariah?”askedtheboy.“Icameheretomeetyou.”

The woman whistled. “Now I see why we might want him. Helloooo, BrotherMackariah.”

Did you? Brother Zachariah asked the boy. He felt what would once have beensurprise,andnowwasatleastintrigue.CanIbeofanyusetoyou?

“Icertainlyhopeso,”saidthevampire.“IamRaphaelSantiago,secondincommandoftheNewYorkclan,andIdislikeuselesspeople.”

Thewomanwavedherhand.“I’mLilyChen.He’salwaysthisway.”

BrotherZachariahstudiedthepairwithnewinterest.Thewomanhadhairstreakedneonyellowandworeascarletqipaothatsuitedher,anddespiteherownremarkshewassmilingathercompanion’swords.Theboy’shairwascurly,hisfacesweet,andhisairdisdainful.Therewasaburnscaratthebaseofhisthroat,whereacrossmightlie.

Ibelievewehaveamutualfriend,saidBrotherZachariah.

“Idon’tthinkso,”saidRaphaelSantiago.“Idon’thavefriends.”

“Oh,thankyouverymuch,”saidthewomanathisside.

“You,Lily,” saidRaphael coldly, “aremy subordinate.”He turnedback toBrotherZachariah. “I assume you refer to the warlockMagnus Bane. He is a colleague whoalwayshasmoredealingswithShadowhuntersthanIapproveof.”

ZachariahwonderedifLilyspokeMandarin.TheSilentBrothers,speakingmindtomind,hadnoneedforlanguage,butsometimesZachariahmissedhis.Therehadbeennights—intheSilentCityitwasalwaysnight—whenhecouldnotrememberhisownname,buthecouldrememberthesoundofhismotherorhisfatherorhisbetrothedspeakingMandarin.Hisbetrothedhad learnedsomeof the language forhim, in thetimewhen he had thought hewould live tomarry her. Hewould not havemindedtalkingwithLilylonger,buthedidnotparticularlylikehercompanion’sattitude.

SinceyoudonotappeartocareforShadowhunters,andyouhavelittleinterestinourmutualconnection,BrotherZachariahobserved,whyapproachme?

“IwishedtotalktoaShadowhunter,”saidRaphael.

WhynotgotoyourInstitute?

Raphael’slipscurledbackfromhisfangsinasneer.Nobodysneeredlikeavampire,andthisvampirewasparticularlyadept.“MyInstitute,asyoucallit,belongstopeoplewhoare…howdoIputthistactfully…bigotsandmurderers.”

Afaeriesellingribbonswithglamourtwinedinthempassedby, trailingblueandpurplebanners.

Thewayyouputthatwasnotparticularlytactful,BrotherZachariahfeltboundtopointout.

“No,”saidRaphaelthoughtfully.“Iamnotgiftedinthatarena.NewYorkhasalwaysbeen a place of heightened Downworlder activity. The lights of this city work onpeople as ifwe are all werewolves howling for an electricmoon.Awarlock tried todestroytheworldhereonce,beforemytime.Theleaderofmyclanmadeadisastrousexperiment with drugs here, against my advice, and made the city her slaughterground.Thewerewolves’ fatal struggles for leadershipare farmore frequent inNewYorkthananywhereelse.TheWhitelawsoftheNewYorkInstituteunderstoodus,andwe them. The Whitelaws died defending Downworlders from the people who nowoccupytheirInstitute.OfcoursetheClavedidnotconsultuswhentheymadeusthepunishment of the Lightwoods. We do not have any dealings with the New YorkInstitutenow.”

Raphael’svoicewasuncompromising,andBrotherZachariahthoughtheshouldbeconcerned.Hehad fought in theUprisingwhen a band of renegade youths rose upagainst theirown leaders, andagainstpeacewith theDownworld.Hehadbeen toldthe story of Valentine’s Circle hunting werewolves in New York City, and theWhitelawsgetting in theirway, resulting ina tragedy thateven thatgroupofangryDownworlder-hating youths had not intended. He had not approved of theLightwoods andHodgeStarkweatherbeingbanished to theNewYork Institute, butthewordwasthattheLightwoodshadsettleddownwiththeirthreechildrenandweretrulyremorsefulfortheirpastactions.

Thepainandpowerstrugglesoftheworldseemedveryfaraway,intheSilentCity.

It had not occurred to Zachariah that the Downworlders would resent theLightwoodssomuchtheymightdeclinetheiraidevenwhenShadowhunterhelpwastrulyneeded.Perhapsitshouldhave.

DownworldersandShadowhuntershavealong,complicatedhistoryfullofpain,andmuchofthepainhasbeenthefaultoftheNephilim,BrotherZachariahadmitted.Yetthroughtheages, they have found a way to work together. I know that when they followed ValentineMorgenstern,theLightwoodsdidterriblethings,butiftheyaretrulyrepentant,couldyounotforgivethem?

“Beingadamnedsoul,IhavenomoralobjectiontotheLightwoods,”saidRaphaelindeeplymoralistictones.“Idohavestrongobjectionstomyheadbeingcutoff.Giventheleastexcuse,theLightwoodswouldlaywastetomyclan.”

TheonlywomanZachariahhadeverlovedwasawarlock.HehadseenherweepovertheCircleanditseffects.BrotherZachariahhadnoreasontosupporttheLightwoods,buteveryonedeservedasecondchanceiftheywantedthatchanceenough.

And one of Robert Lightwood’s ancestors had been a woman called CecilyHerondale.

Say they would not, suggested Brother Zachariah. Would it not be preferable toreestablishrelationswiththeInstituteratherthanhopetocatchaSilentBrotherattheShadowMarket?

“Ofcourse itwould,”saidRaphael.“I fullyrecognizethis isnotanidealsituation.This is not the first stratagem I have been forced to employ when I required anaudiencewithShadowhunters.FiveyearsagoIhadcoffeewithavisitingAshdown.”

Heandhiscompanionsharedashudderofdistaste.

“IabsolutelyhatetheAshdowns,”remarkedLily.“Theyaresotedious.IbelievethatifIfedononeofthemIwouldnodoffhalfwaythrough.”

Raphaelgaveherawarninglook.

“Not that I would ever dream of nonconsensually drinking the blood of anyShadowhunter, because it would violate the Accords!” Lily informed BrotherZachariahinaloudvoice.“TheAccordsaredeeplyimportanttome.”

Raphael shut his eyes, a briefly pained expression crossing his face, but after aninstantheopenedthemandnodded.

“Sohowaboutit,BrotherLipsmackariah,willyouhelpusout?”Lilyaskedbrightly.

Acoldweightofdisapprovalmadeitselfknownfromhissilentbrethren,likestonesbeingpressedagainsthismind.Zachariahwas allowedagreatdeal of latitude for aSilentBrother,buthisfrequentvisitstotheShadowMarketsandhisannualmeetingwith a lady on Blackfriars Bridge were already testing the limits of what could beallowed.

IfhebeganconsortingwithDownworldersonissuesthatcouldbehandledperfectlywellbyanInstitute,BrotherZachariah’sprivilegeswereindangerofbeingsuspended.

Hecouldnotriskmissingthatmeeting.Anythingbutthat.

TheSilentBrothersareforbiddentointerferewiththeaffairsoftheoutsideworld.Whateveryourproblemis,saidBrotherZachariah,IstronglyurgeyoutoconsultwithyourInstitute.

Hebowedhisheadandbegantoturnaway.

“MyproblemiswerewolvessmugglingyinfenintoNewYork,”Raphaelcalledafterhim.“Everheardofyinfen?”

ThebellsandsongsoftheShadowMarketseemedtogoquiet.

BrotherZachariahturnedsharplybacktothetwovampires.RaphaelSantiagostaredat him with glittering eyes which left Brother Zachariah in no doubt that RaphaelknewagooddealaboutZachariah’sownhistory.

“Ah,”saidthevampire.“Iseeyouhave.”

Zachariahusuallytriedtopreservememoriesofhismortal life,butnowhehadtomakeanefforttobanishtheintrudinghorrorofwakingupasachildwithallheloveddead,andsilverfireburninginhisveins.

Wheredidyouhearabouttheyinfen?

“Idon’tintendtotellyou,”saidRaphael.“NordoIintendtoletthatstuffbefreelyavailableinmycity.Alargequantityofyinfenisonitswaytothecity,onboardashipcarryingcargofromShanghai,HoChiMinh,Vienna,andIdrisitself.TheshipunloadsattheNewYorkPassengerShipTerminal.Willyouhelpmeornot?”

Raphael had already mentioned the leader of his clan performing disastrousexperimentswithdrugs.Zachariah’sguesswasthatmanypotentialcustomersamongtheDownworldwere talkingabout the shipmentofyin fen at theMarket.The fact aDownworlderwithconservativeviewshadheardaboutitwassheerluck.

Iwillhelpyou,saidBrotherZachariah.ButwemustconsultwiththeNewYorkInstitute.If you wish I can go with you to the Institute and explain matters. The Lightwoods willappreciate the information, and you offering it. This is an opportunity to improve relationsbetweentheInstituteandalltheDownworldersinNewYork.

Raphaeldidnotlookconvinced,butafteramomenthenodded.

“You will go with me?” he asked. “You will not fail? They would not listen to avampire,butIsupposeitispossibletheywilllistentoaSilentBrother.”

IwilldowhateverIcan,saidBrotherZachariah.

CunningcreptintoRaphael’svoice.“Andiftheydon’thelpme.IftheyoreventheClaverefusetobelieveme,thenwhatwillyoudo?”

Then I will still help you, said Brother Zachariah, ignoring the chill howl of hisbrethreninhismindandthinkingofTessa’scleareyes.

HedreadedmissingameetingwithTessa,butwhenhedidmeether,hewantedtoface her with no stain upon him. He could not let any child suffer what he had

suffered,notifhecouldpreventit.

Zachariahwasnotabletofeelallhehadfeltwhenhewasmortal,butTessacouldstillfeel.Hecouldnotletherbedisappointedinhim.Shewasthelaststarhehadtosteerby.

“I’llcometotheInstitutewithyou,”Lilyvolunteered.

“Youwilldonosuchthing,”snappedRaphael.“Itisnotsafe.Remember,theCircleattackedMagnusBane.”

TheiceinRaphael’svoicecouldhavelaidthewholeofNewYorkCityunderfrostforaweekinmidsummer.HeeyedBrotherZachariahwithdisfavor.

“Magnus invented your Portals, not that he receives any credit for it fromShadowhunters. He is one of the most powerful warlocks in the world, and sotenderheartedherushestotheaidofviciouskillers.HeisthebesttheDownworldhastooffer.IftheCircletargetedhim,theywouldcutdownanyoneofus.”

“Would’vebeenadamnshame,”Lilyconfirmed.“Magnusthrowsanamazingrager,too.”

“Iwouldn’tknow,”saidRaphael,castingalookofdistasteuponthejoyfulriotoftheMarket.“Idonotenjoypeople.Orgatherings.”

A werewolf wearing an enchanted papier-mâché full-moon head shoved pastRaphael,shouting“Awoooo!”Raphaelturnedtolookathim,andthewerewolfbackedawaywithhishandsup,mumbling:“Uh,sorry.Mymistake.”

Despiteslightfellowfeelingwiththewerewolf,BrotherZachariahunbentalittleatthisevidencethatthisvampirewasnotentirelyawful.

IunderstandthatyouvalueMagnushighly.SodoI.Onceheaidedsomeoneverydearto—

“No,Idon’t!”Raphaelinterrupted.“AndIdon’tcareaboutyourstory.Don’ttellhimI said any of that. I can have opinions on my colleagues. It does not mean I havepersonalfeelingsaboutthem.”

“Hey,myman,greattoseeyou,”saidRagnorFell,passingby.

Raphaelpausedtofist-bumpthegreenwarlockbeforeRagnordisappearedamongthe stalls and sounds and many-colored lights of the Market. Lily and BrotherZachariahregardedhim.

“He’sanothercolleague!”Raphaelprotested.

IlikeRagnor,saidBrotherZachariah.

“Good for you,” snapped Raphael. “Revel in your hobby of liking and trusting

everyone.Itsoundsasappealingtomeassunbathing.”

Zachariahfelthehadbecomeacquaintedwithanotherreason,besidesMagnus’sevilvampire ex, why Magnus always seemed to develop a migraine when peoplementioned the vampire clan of New York in his presence. He, Lily, and RaphaelstrolledthroughtheMarket.

“Love charm for the handsomest Silent Brother?” asked the faeriewoman for thefifth time, leering throughher dandelion-clockhair. Sometimes one couldwish theShadowMarkethadnotbecomequitesocomfortablewithhim.

Herememberedthiswoman,hethought,dimlyrecollectingherhurtingagolden-hairedchild.Ithadbeensolongago.Hehadcaredverymuchatthetime.

Lily snorted. “I hardly think Brother Beast-with-two-backs-ariah needs a lovecharm.”

Thankyou,butno,BrotherZachariahtoldthefaeriewoman.I’mveryflattered,thoughBrotherEnochisafinefigureofaman.

“Orperhapsyouandtheladywouldenjoysomephoenixtearsforanightofburningpass—”Shewent suddenly silent, and thewhole stall scuttled away across thebareconcrete floor on little chicken feet. “Ooops, never mind! Didn’t see you there,Raphael.”

Raphael’sthineyebrowswentupanddownlikeaguillotine.

“MoreofabuzzkillthantheSilentBrother,”murmuredLily.“Oh,theshame.”

Raphaellookedsmug.InZachariah’shead,BrotherEnochwasannoyedatbeingthesubjectofajoke.ThegleamandwhirloftheShadowMarketshonewithpaleradianceinBrotherZachariah’seyes.Hedidnotlikethethoughtofyinfenspreadinglikesilverwildfire in another city, killing fast as flame or slowly as choking smoke. If it wascominghehadtostopit.ThistriptotheMarkethadbeenusefulafterall.Ifhecouldnotfeel,hecouldact.

PerhapstomorrownighttheLightwoodswillearnyourtrust,saidBrotherZachariahasheandthevampiressteppedoutintothemundanebustleofCanalStreet.

Raphaelsaid,“Unlikely.”

Ihavefounditalwaysbettertohopethandespair,saidBrotherZachariahmildly.IwillwaitforyououtsidetheInstitute.

Behind them, enchanted lights shimmered and the sound of faery music rangthrough the halls of the theater. A mundane woman turned to face the building.Glitteringbluelightfellinastrangebeamacrossherunseeingeyes.

Thetwovampireswereheadingeast,butpartwayupthestreet,RaphaelturnedbacktowhereBrotherZachariahstood.Inthenight,awayfromMarketlights,thevampire’sscarwaswhiteandhiseyeswereblack.Hiseyessawtoomuch.

“Hope is for fools. I will meet you tomorrow night, but remember this, SilentBrother,”hesaid.“Hatelikethatdoesnotfade.TheworkoftheCircleisnotdoneyet.TheMorgensternlegacywillclaimmorevictims.Idonotintendtobeoneofthem.”

Wait,saidBrotherZachariah.Doyouhappentoknowwhytheshipisunloadingitscargoatthepassengershipterminal?

Raphaelshrugged.“ItoldyoutheshipwascarryingcargofromIdris.IbelievesomeShadowhunterbratisonboard.”

BrotherZachariahwalkedawayfromtheMarketalone,thinkingofachildonashipwithdeadlycargo,andthepotentialofmorevictims.

IsabelleLightwoodwasnotaccustomedtofeelingnervousaboutanything,butanyonemightbeapprehensivewhenfacedwiththeprospectofanewadditiontothefamily.

This was not like beforeMax was born, when Isabelle and Alec had laid bets onwhetheritwouldbeaboyoragirlandafterwardMomandDadtrustedthemenoughtoletthemtaketurnsholdinghim,thesmallestandtenderestbundleimaginable.

AboyolderthanIsabellewasbeingdumpedontheirdoorstepandwassupposedtolive with them. Jonathan Wayland, the son of Dad’s parabatai, Michael Wayland.FarawayinIdris,MichaelWaylandhaddied,andJonathanneededahome.

For herself, Isabelle was a little excited. She liked adventure and company. IfJonathanWaylandwas asmuch fun and as good a fighter asAline Penhallow,whocametovisitsometimeswithhermother,Isabellewouldbegladtohavehim.

ExcepttherewasnotjustIsabelletoconsider.

Her parents had been fighting over Jonathan Wayland ever since the news ofMichael’sdeathcame.IsabellegatheredMomhadnotlikedMichaelWayland.Shewasnot sure Dad had liked him much either. Isabelle herself had never met MichaelWayland.ShehadneverevenknownthatDadhadaparabatai.NeitherMomnorDadever talkedaboutwhentheywereyoung,except thatMomhadoncesaid theymademanymistakes.Isabellesometimeswonderedwhethertheyhadbeenmixedupinthesametroubleastheirtutor,Hodge.HerfriendAlinesaidHodgewasacriminal.

Whateverherparentshadorhadnotdone,IsabelledidnotthinkhermotherwantedJonathanWaylandtobeareminderofhermistakesinherownhome.

Dad did not seem happy when he talked about his parabatai, but he did seem

determinedthatJonathanwouldcometolivewiththem.Jonathanhadnowhereelsetogo,Dad insisted,andhebelongedwith them.Thatwaswhatbeingparabataimeant.Oncewhenshewaseavesdroppingonthemshouting, IsabelleheardDadsay,“IoweMichaelthis.”

MomagreedtoletJonathancomeforatrialperiod,butnowthattheshoutinghaddieddown, shewasnot really speaking toDad. Isabellewasworried aboutbothherparents,andespeciallyhermom.

Isabellealsohadtoconsiderherbrother.

Alecdidnotlikenewpeople.WhenevernewShadowhuntersarrivedfromIdris,Alecwouldmysteriouslyslopeoff.OnceIsabellehadfoundhimlurkingbehindalargevase,claiminghegotlosttryingtofindthetrainingroom.

JonathanWaylandwastakingashiptoNewYork.HeshouldbeintheInstitutebythemorningafternext.

Isabelle was in the training room, practicing with her whip and pondering theproblem of JonathanWayland, when she heard rushing footsteps, and her brotherAlecpokedhisheadaroundthedoor.Hisblueeyesweresparkling.

“Isabelle!”hesaid.“Comequickly!There’saSilentBrothermeetingwithMomandDadintheSanctuary.Andavampire!”

Isabellerantoherroomtogetoutofhergearandintoadress.TheSilentBrotherswerefancycompany,almostasiftheConsulhadcometovisit.

By the time she got downstairs, Alec was already in the Sanctuary observing theproceedings, and her parents were deep in conversation with the Silent Brother.IsabelleheardhermomsaysomethingtotheSilentBrotherthatsoundedlike“Yogurt!Unbelievable!”

Maybenotyogurt.Maybeitwasadifferentword.

“OntheshipwithMichael’sson!”Dadsaid.

Itcouldn’tbeyogurt,unlessJonathanWaylandhadaveryseriousallergytodairy.

TheSilentBrotherwasalotlessscarythanIsabellehadbeenexpecting.Infact,fromwhatIsabellecouldseebeneaththehood,heresembledoneofthemundiesingersshehad seen in posters around the city. From theway Robertwas nodding at him andMaryse was leaning toward him in her chair, Isabelle could see they were gettingalong.

Thevampirewasnotconversingwiththeirparents.Hewasleaningagainstoneofthe walls, arms crossed, and glaring at the floor. He did not seem as if he was

interested ingettingalongwithanyone.He looked likeakid,hardlyolder thantheywere,andhewouldhavebeenalmostashandsomeastheSilentBrotherifnotforhissourexpression.Hewaswearingablack leather jacket togowithhis scowl. Isabellewishedshecouldseethefangs.

“CanIofferyouacoffee?”Marysesaidtothevampireinacool,stiltedtone.

“Idonotdrink…coffee,”saidthevampire.

“Odd,”saidMaryse.“IheardyouhadadelightfulcoffeewithCatherineAshdown.”

Thevampireshrugged.Isabelleknewvampiresweredeadandsoullessandall,butshedidnotseewhytheyhadtoberude.

ShenudgedAlecintheribs.“Getaloadofthevampire.Canyoubelievethat?”

“Iknow!”Alecwhisperedback.“Isn’theamazing?”

“What?”Isabellesaid,grabbingAlec’selbow.

Alecdidnotglanceather.Hewasstudyingthevampire.Isabellestartedtogetthesame uneasy feeling that she got whenever she noticed Alec looking at the samepostersofmundiesingersthatshedid.Alecalwaysgotredandangrywhenshesawhimlooking.Isabellesometimesthoughtitwouldbenicetotalkaboutthesingers,thewayshe’dheardmundiegirlsdoing,butsheknewAlecwouldn’twantto.OnceMomhadaskedthemwhattheywerelookingat,andAlechadlookedafraid.

“Don’tgonearhim,”Isabelleurged.“Ithinkvampiresaregross.”

Isabellewasusedtobeingable towhisper toherbrother inacrowd.Thevampireturned his head slightly, and Isabelle remembered vampires did not have pathetichearinglikemundanes.Thevampirecoulddefinitelyhearher.

This nasty realization caused Isabelle to relax her hold on Alec. She watched inhorrorashepulledawayfromherandadvancedwithnervousdeterminationtowardthevampire.Notwantingtobeleftout,Isabelletrailedafewstepsbehindhim.

“Hello,”saidAlec.“It’s,um,verynicetomeetyou.”

Thevampireboygavehimathousand-yardstarethatsuggestedathousandyardswastoocloseupandthevampirewishedhewereenjoyingblissfulsolitudeinthefarreachesofspace.“Hello.”

“I’mAlexanderLightwood,”saidAlec.

Grimacingasiftheintroductionwerevitalinformationbeingtorturedoutofhim,thevampiresaid:“IamRaphael.”

Whenhemadethatface,Isabelledidseethefangs.Theywerenotascoolasshehad

hoped.

“I’mbasicallytwelve,”continuedAlec,whowastotallyeleven.“Youdon’tlookalotolder thanme. But I know it’s differentwith vampires. I guess you kind of stay thesameageyoustopat,though,right?Likeyou’refifteen,butyou’vebeenfifteenforahundredyears.Howlonghaveyoubeenfifteen?”

Raphaelsaidflatly,“I’msixty-three.”

“Oh,”saidAlec.“Oh.Oh,that’scool.”

Headvancedseveralstepstowardthevampire.Raphaeldidnottakeastepback,buthelookedlikehewantedto.

“Also,”Alecaddedshyly,“yourjacketiscool.”

“Whyareyoutalkingtomychildren?”Momaskedsharply.

ShewasalreadyupfromherchairoppositetheSilentBrother,andasshespokesheseizedholdofAlecandIsabelle.Herfingerspinched;shewasholdingthemsohard,andfearseemedtotraveltoIsabellethroughhermother’stouch,eventhoughshehadnotbeenafraidbefore.

Thevampirehadnotbeenlookingatthemasifhethoughttheywouldbedeliciousatall.Maybe thatwashowhe luredyou in, though, Isabelle considered.MaybeAlecwas just ensorcelled by vampire wiles. It would be nice to be able to blame theDownworlderformakingIsabelleworry.

TheSilentBrother rose fromhis chair andglided to join them. Isabelleheard thevampirewhisper to the Silent Brother, and shewaspretty surehe said: “This ismynightmare.”

Isabellestuckhertongueoutathim.Raphael’slipcurledthetiniestfractionfartherfrom his fangs. Alec did glance at Isabelle then, to make sure she was not scared.Isabellewasn’tscaredofmuch,butAlecwasalwaysfussing.

RaphaelcamehereoutofconcernforaShadowhunterchild,saidtheSilentBrother.

“No, I didn’t,”Raphael sneered. “Betterwatchyour children. I oncekilled awholegangofboysnotmucholderthanyourboyhere.ShallItakethisasarefusaltohelpwith the shipment? I am deeply shocked. Well, we tried. Time to go, BrotherZachariah.”

“Wait,”saidRobert.“Ofcoursewewillhelp.Iwillmeetyouatthedrop-offpointinNewJersey.”

Naturally her dadwould help, Isabelle thought indignantly. This vampirewas anidiot. Whatever mistakes they might have made when they were really young, her

parents ran thiswhole Instituteandhadkilled lotsand lotsof evildemons.Anyonesensiblewouldknowyoucouldalwayscountonherdad.

“You can consultwithus on other Shadowhuntermatters at any time,” hermomadded, but she did not let go of Alec and Isabelle until the vampire and BrotherZachariahhadlefttheInstitute.

Isabelle had thought the visit would be exciting, but she had ended up feelingterrible.ShewishedthatJonathanWaylandwasnotcoming.

Guestswereterrible,andIsabelleneverwantedanymore.

The planwas to stow away aboard ship undetected, apprehend the smugglers, anddisposeoftheyinfen.Thechildwouldneverhavetoknowaboutanyofit.

It was almost nice to be in one of the sleek Shadowhunter boats again. BrotherZachariahhadbeeninthemulti-hulledtrimaransasachildonlakesinIdris,andoncehisparabataihadstolenoneandtheyhadroweditdowntheThames.Nowhe,anedgyRobert Lightwood, and two vampires had used one to navigate the black nighttimewaters of the Delaware River, coming down from the port of Camden. Lily keptcomplainingthattheywerepracticallyinPhiladelphia,untiltheboatdrewclosetothetallcargoship.DawnTraderwaspaintedindarkbluelettersagainstitsgrayside.Theywaitedfortheirmoment,thenRobertthrewagrapplinghook.

BrotherZachariah,Raphael,Lily,andRobertLightwoodmadeitontotheboatandintoadesertedcabin.This journey,shortandstealthy though itwas, left themwiththe impression that there was nomundane crew onboard at all. Hiding there, theycountedthevoicesof thesmugglersandrealizedtherewere farmore thanhadbeenreported.

“Ohno,BrotherHop-in-the-sack-ariah,”Lilywhispered.“Ithinkwe’regoingtohavetofightthem.”

She lookedverycheerfulabouttheprospect.Asshespoke,shewinkedandpulledherfeatheredflapper’sheadbandfromheryellow-streakedhair.

“It’s actually from the 1920s, so I don’t want to damage it,” she explained, andnoddedtoRaphael.“I’vehaditlongerthanI’vehadhim.He’sfromthe1950s.Jazzbabyandgreaserteentakeontheworld.”

Raphaelrolledhiseyes.“Desistwiththenicknames.Theyaregettingworse.”

Lilylaughed.“Iwillnot.OnceyougoZachariah,younevergobackariah.”

RaphaelandRobertLightwoodboth lookedappalled,butZachariahdidnotmindthenicknames.Hedidnothearlaughteroften.

Whatworriedhimwasthechild.

WecannotallowJonathantobescaredorhurt,hesaid.

Robert was nodding, and the vampires looking supremely unconcerned, when aboy’svoicecamefromoutsidethedoor.

“I’mnotfrightenedofanything,”hesaid.

JonathanWayland,Zachariahpresumed.

“Then why are you asking about the Lightwoods?” asked a woman’s voice. Shesoundedirritated.“They’retakingyouin.Theywon’tbeunkindtoyou.”

“Iwasonlycurious,”saidJonathan.

Hewasclearlydoinghisbesttosoundairyandaloof,andhisbestwasnotbad.Hisvoice almost swaggered. Brother Zachariah thought it would have convinced mostpeople.

“RobertLightwood’sgotsomeinfluenceintheClave,”remarkedthewoman.“Solidman.I’msurehe’sreadytobeafathertoyou.”

“Ihadafather,”saidJonathan,coldasthenightwind.

Thewomanwassilent.Acrossthecabin,RobertLightwood’sheadwasbowed.

“Butthemother,”saidJonathan,atouchtentative.“What’sMrs.Lightwoodlike?”

“Maryse?Ibarelyknowher,”thewomanreplied.“She’salreadygotthreekids.Four’salottohandle.”

“I’mnotakid,”saidJonathan.“Iwon’tbotherher.”Hepausedandobserved,“Therearealotofwerewolvesaboardthisship.”

“Ugh,kidsraisedinIdrisareexhausting,”saidthewoman.“Werewolvesareafactoflife,unfortunately.Creaturesareeverywhere.Gotobed,Jonathan.”

Theylistenedasanothercabindoorshut,andalockwasshothome.

“Now,”saidRobertLightwood.“Vampires,starboard.BrotherZachariahandI,port.Containthewerewolvesbyanymeansnecessary,thenlocatetheyinfen.”

Theyspilledoutontothedeck. Itwasaroughnight, thewindpullingZachariah’shooddownfarther,thedeckjerkingbeneaththeirfeet.Zachariahcouldnotopenhislipstotastethesaltintheair.

New York was a glimmer on the horizon, shining like the lights of the ShadowMarketinthedark.Theycouldnotallowtheyinfentohitthecity.

Therewereacoupleofwerewolvesonthedeck.Onewasinwolfform,andZachariah

could see a tinge of silver in his fur. The other had lost color in his fingertips.Zachariahwondered if theyknewthat theyweredying.Heremembered, toovividly,howithadfeltwhentheyinfenwaskillinghim.

Sometimes it was good to be without feeling. Sometimes being human hurt toomuch,andZachariahcouldnotaffordpitynow.

Brother Zachariah slammed his staff against one of their heads, and when heturned, Robert Lightwood had already dealt with the other. They stood braced,listening to thehowlof thewindand the surgeof the sea,waiting for theothers tocomefrombelowdecks.ThenZachariahheard thesounds fromtheothersideof theship.

Staywhereyouare,hetoldRobert.Iwillgotothevampires.

BrotherZachariahhadtofighthiswaytothem.Therewereevenmorewerewolvesthanhehadguessed.Acrosstheirheads,hecouldseeRaphaelandLily, leapingasiftheywereinsubstantialasshadows,teethshininginthemoonlight.

He could see thewerewolves’ teeth too.Zachariahknockedonewerewolfover thesideof theshipandknockedoutanotherone’s teeth inthesameswing, thenhadtododgeaswipeofclawsthatalmostsentZachariahoverhimself.Thereweresomanyofthem.

It was with vague surprise that Zachariah thought this could be the end. Thereshouldhavebeensomethingmorethansurprisetotheidea,butallheknewwasthehollowness he had felt walking through theMarket and the sound of his brothers’voices, colder than the sea. He did not care about these vampires. He did not careabouthimself.

Theroarofawerewolfsoundedinhisear,andbehinditcamethecrashofawave.BrotherZachariah’sarmsachedfromwieldingthestaff.Itshouldallhaveendedalongtimeago,anyway.Hecouldscarcelyrememberareasonwhyhefought.

Across the deck awerewolf, almost fully shifted,whirled a clawed fist directly atLily’sheart.Shealreadyhadherhandslockedaroundanotherwerewolf’sneck.Shedidnothaveachancetodefendherself.

A door swung open, and a Shadowhunter woman ran out into the path of thewerewolves.Shewasnotready.Awolftoreherthroatout,andasZachariahtriedtogettoher,awerewolfslammedagainsthisback.Thestafffellfromhisnervelessfingers.Asecondwerewolfpiledontohim,clawsdiggingintohisshoulders,bearinghimdowntohisknees.Anotherclimbedon,andZachariah’sheadslammedontothewood.Thedarkrosebeforehim.Hisbrothers’voicescouldbegone,alongwiththecrashoftheseaandallthelightoftheworldthatnolongertouchedhim.

The dead woman’s eyes stared into his face, a last empty gleam before the darkconsumedall.Itseemedasifhewereasemptyasshe.Whyhadheeverfought?

Onlyheremembered.Hewouldnotallowhimselftoforget.

Tessa,hethought.Will.

Despairwasneverstrongerthanthethoughtofthem.Hecouldnotbetraythembygivingup.

TheyareWillandTessa,andyouwereKe JianMing.Youwere JamesCarstairs.YouwereJem.

Jem drew a dagger from his belt. He fought to his feet, backhanding a werewolfthroughtheopencabindoor.HelookedtoLily.

Raphaelwasstandinginfrontofher.Hisarmwasflungouttoshieldher,hisbloodamacabrescarletsplashacrossthedeck.Humanbloodwasblackatnight,butvampirebloodneverlookedanythingbutred.Lilyscreamedhisname.

BrotherZachariahneededhisstaff.Itwasrollingacrossthewoodofthedeck,silverinthemoonlightandrattlinglikebones.Itscarvingleapedout,shadowdarkagainstthe silver, as the staff rolled to the feet of a boywhohad just steppedout into thisspaceofchaosandblood.

TheboywhomustbeJonathanWaylandstaredaroundhim,atBrotherZachariah,atthewolves,atthewomanwithherthroatrippedout.Awerewolfwomanwasbearingdownonhim.Theboywastooyoungtoevenbearwarriors’runes.

BrotherZachariahknewhewasnotgoingtobefastenough.

Theboy turnedhishead,hairbrightgold in the silvermoonshine, andpickedupZachariah’s staff. Small and slim, the most fragile of barriers possible againstdarkness,hechargedatthesnarlingteethandbaredclaws.Hestruckherdown.

Twomorewentfortheboy,butZachariahkilledone,andtheboyspunandstrucktheother.Whenhe twisted in theair,Zachariah thoughtnotof shadows, ashehadwiththevampires,butoflight.

Whentheboy landedonthedeck, feetspreadwideandstaff twirlingbetweenhishands,hewaslaughing.Itwasnotachild’ssweetlaugh,butawildexuberantsoundthatrangoutstrongerthanseaorskyorsilentvoices.Hesoundedyoung,anddefiant,andjoyful,andalittlemad.

Brother Zachariah had thought earlier in the night that he did not hear laughteroften.Ithadbeenanachinglylongtimesinceheheardalaughlikethat.

Hestabbedanotherwerewolfrunningfortheboy,andanother,throwinghisbody

between theboyand thewolves.Onegotpasthisguardandswipedat theboy, andZachariahheardhimmakeasmallsoundbetweenhislockedteeth.

Areyouallright?heasked.

“Yes!”theboyshouted.BrotherZachariahcouldhearhimpantingathisback.

Neverfear,saidBrotherZachariah.Iamfightingwithyou.

Zachariah’sbloodrancolder than thesea,andhishearthammereduntilheheardRobertLightwoodandLilycomingtotheiraid.

Once the remainingwerewolveswere subdued,Robert took Jonathanwithhim tothebridge.Zachariahturnedhisattentiontothevampires.Raphaelhadtakenoffhisleatherjacket.Lilyhadrippedpartofhershirtoffandwastyingthematerialaroundhisarm.Shewascrying.

“Raphael,”shesaid.“Raphael,youshouldn’thavedoneit.”

“Sustained a wound that will heal in a night in preference to losing a valuablememberoftheclan?”Raphaelasked.“Iactedtobenefitmyself.Igenerallydo.”

“You’d better,” Lily muttered, wiping tears savagely with the back of her hand.“WhatwouldIdoifsomethinghappenedtoyou?”

“Somethingpractical,Ihope,”saidRaphael.“Pleasesalvagematerialfromoneofthemany dead werewolves next time. And stop embarrassing the clan in front ofShadowhunters.”

LilyfollowedRaphael’slineofvision,overhershouldertoBrotherZachariah.Therewasbloodsmudgedandmixedwithherblurredeyeliner,butshegavehimacheekyfangedsmile.

“MaybeIwantedtoripmyshirtforBrotherLet-him-see-my-rack-ariah.”

Raphaelliftedhiseyestoheaven.Sincehewasnotlookingather,Lilycouldlookathim.Shedid.BrotherZachariah sawher lift ahand,her fingernailspainted redandgold, and almost touch his curly hair. Her hand moved as if she might stroke theshadowsoverhishead,thencurledintoafist.Shedidnotpermitherselftheluxury.

Raphaelmotionedherawayandgottohisfeet.

“Let’sgofindtheyinfen.”

Itwasnotdifficult to locate. Itwas ina largebox ina cabinbelowdecks.LilyandBrotherZachariahcarriedtheboxupbetweenthem,LilyclearlyreadytomakeasceneifRaphaeltriedtohelp.

Even after all these years, seeing the glimmer of yin fen in the moonlight made

Zachariah’s stomach lurch and turn, as if the sight pitched him onto a boat on adifferentsea,oneinwhichhecouldneverkeephisbalance.

Lilymovedtotiptheboxovertheside,andletitbeswallowedbythehungrywaters.

“No,Lily!”saidRaphael.“Iwillnothavedrug-addledmermaidsinfestingtheriversofmycity.Whatifweendupwithglowingsilveralligatorsinthesewers?Nobodywillbesurprised,butIwillknowit isyourfault,andIwillbeextremelydisappointedinyou.”

“Youneverletmehaveanyfun,”Lilygrumbled.

“Ineverletanyonehaveanyfun,”saidRaphael,andlookedsmug.

Brother Zachariah stared into the box full of silver powder. It had meant thedifference between quick and slow death to him once. He set the fire using a runeknownonlytotheSilentBrothers,arunemeanttoburnawayharmfulmagic.Lifeanddeathwerenothingbutashesintheair.

Thankyoufortellingmeabouttheyinfen,hetoldRaphael.

“From my perspective, I took advantage of your weakness over the stuff,” saidRaphael. “You used to take it to keep yourself alive once, as I understand it. Didn’twork,Isee.Anyway,youremotionalstateisnoconcernofmine,andmycityissafe.Missionaccomplished.”

Hewipedhishands,gleamingwithbloodandsilver,overthelappingwaves.

Doesyourleaderknowanythingaboutthismission?ZachariahaskedLily.

ShewaswatchingRaphael.

“Ofcourse,”shesaid.“Myleadertoldyouallaboutit.Didn’the?”

“Lily!Thatisstupidityandtreason.”Raphael’svoicewaschillastheseabreeze.“IfIwas ordered to execute you for it, make no mistake, I would do so. I would nothesitate.”

Lilybitherlipandtriedtopassoffhowhurtsheclearlywas.“Oh,butIhaveagoodfeelingaboutBrotherZacharide-him-like-a-bad-pony.Hewon’ttell.”

“Is there a place here for a vampire to be stowed away safely from the sunrise?”Raphaelasked.

BrotherZachariahhadnotconsideredthattheprotractedfightwiththewerewolvesmeant the sunwas close to rising.Raphael glanced athim sharplywhenhedidnotanswer.

“Isthereonlyroomforone?Lilyneedstobesecured.Iamresponsibleforher.”

LilyturnedherfaceawaysoRaphaeldidnotseeherexpression,butZachariahsawit.Herecognizedherexpressionfromatimewhenhehadbeenabletofeel thatwayhimself.Shelookedsickwithlove.

Therewasroomforbothvampires inthecargohold.Ontheirwaytoexaminethehold,LilyalmosttrippedoverthedeadShadowhunterwoman.

“Oooh,Raphael!”sheexclaimedbrightly.“It’sCatherineAshdown!”

Itwaslikethefaintcoldsprayofseawater,toseehowutterlyindifferentshewastohumanlife.BrotherZachariahsawherbelatedlyrecallhispresence.

“Ohno,”sheaddedinnotterriblyconvincingtones.“Whatasenselesstragedy.”

“Gotothehold,Lily,”Raphaelcommanded.

Willyounotbothgo?askedBrotherZachariah.

“IprefertowaitaslongasIcanbeforedawntotestmyself,”saidRaphael.

Lilysighed.“He’sCatholic.Sovery,veryCatholic.”

Her hand moved restlessly by her side, as if she wanted to reach out and pullRaphaelalongwithher.Instead,sheusedittogiveZachariahanotherlittlewave,thesameoneshehadgivenwhentheyfirstmet.

“BrotherSixpackariah,”shesaid.“It’sbeenapleasure.”

Andforme,saidBrotherZachariah,andlistenedtoherskiplightlydownthestairs.

Shehad, at least, givenhim thewoman’sname.BrotherZachariah could takeherbacktoherfamilyandtheCityofBones,whereshecouldrestandhecouldnot.

Hekneltdownbythedeadwoman’ssideandclosedherstaringeyes.

Aveatquevale,CatherineAshdown,hemurmured.

He rose to find Raphael still by his side, though not looking at him or the deadwoman.Raphael’seyesrestedontheblackseatouchedwithmoonlight,theblackskyedgedwiththefaintestlineofsilver.

Iamgladtohavemetyouboth,Zachariahadded.

“I can’t imagine why,” said Raphael. “Those names Lily came up with were verybad.”

PeopledonotjokewiththeSilentBrothersoften.

TheprospectofnotbeingjokedaroundwithmadeRaphaellookwistful.“Itmustbenice to be a Silent Brother. Aside from the fact Shadowhunters are annoying andpathetic.AndIdon’tknowthatshewasjoking.I’dwatchyourselfnexttimeyou’rein

NewYork.”

Ofcourseshewasjoking,saidBrotherZachariah.Sheisinlovewithyou.

Raphael’sfacetwisted.“WhydoShadowhuntersalwayswanttotalkaboutfeelings?Why can nobody ever be a professional? For your information, I do not have anyinterest in romance of any kind and never will. Now can you drop this revoltingsubject?”

Ican,saidBrotherZachariah.Perhapsyouwouldliketotalkaboutthegangofboysyouclaimtohavekilled?

“I’vekilledmanypeople,”saidRaphaeldistantly.

Agroupofchildren?saidZachariah.Inyourcity?Didthishappeninthe1950s?

Maryse Lightwood might have been fooled. Brother Zachariah was familiar withwhat it looked like when someone blamed and hated themselves for what hadhappenedtothosetheyloved.

“Therewasavampirehuntingchildrenon the streetswheremybrothersplayed,”Raphaelsaid,hisvoicestilldistant.“Iledmygangtohislairtostophim.Noneofussurvived.”

BrotherZachariahtriedtobegentle.

Whenavampireisnewborntheycannotcontrolthemselves.

“I was the leader,” said Raphael, his steely voice brooking no argument. “I wasresponsible.Well.Wedidstopthevampire,andmyfamilylivedtogrowup.”

Allbutone.

“IgenerallydoaccomplishwhatIsetmymindon,”saidRaphael.

Thatisextremelyclear,saidBrotherZachariah.

Helistenedtothesoundofthewaveshittingthesideoftheboat,carryingthemtothecity.OnthenightoftheMarkethehadbeendetachedfromthecityandeveryonein it, and certainly he had felt nothing for a vampire determined to feel nothinghimself.

Butthenhadcomealaugh,andthesoundhadwokenthingsinsidehimthathehadfeareddead.Oncewokentotheworld,Zachariahdidnotwanttobeblindtoanyofit.

Yousavedpeopletoday.TheShadowhunterssavedpeople,eventhoughtheydidnotsaveyouwhenyouwereachildtryingtofightmonsters.

RaphaeltwitchedasifthisimplicationofwhyhedislikedShadowhunterswasaflylandingonhim.

“Fewaresaved,”saidRaphael.“Nobodyisspared.Somebodytriedtosavemeonce,andIwillpayhimbackoneday.Idon’tchoosetooweanotherdebt,orforanyonetooweme.Weallgotwhatwewanted.TheShadowhuntersandIaredone.”

Theremightalwaysbeanothertimeforhelporcooperation,saidBrotherZachariah.TheLightwoods are trying. Consider letting the other Downworlders know you survived dealingwiththem.

Raphaelmadeanoncommittalsound.

Therearemorekindsoflovethanstars,saidBrotherZachariah.Ifyoudonotfeelone,therearemany others. You knowwhat it is to care for family and friends.Whatwe keep sacred,keepsussafe.Considerthatbytryingtocutyourselfofffromthepossibilityofbeinghurt,youshutthedooronloveandliveindarkness.

Raphaelstaggeredovertotherailandpretendedtovomit.Thenhestraightenedup.

“Ohwait,I’mavampireandwedon’tgetseasick,”hesaid.“Icameoverallnauseousforasecond.Can’t thinkwhy. IheardSilentBrotherswerewithdrawn. Iwas lookingforwardtowithdrawn!”

IamnotatypicalSilentBrother,observedBrotherZachariah.

“JustmyluckIgotthetouchy-feelySilentBrother.CanIrequestadifferentoneinfuture?”

SoyouthinktheremightbeatimewhenyourpathcrosseswithShadowhuntersagain?

Raphaelmadeadisgustednoiseandturnedawayfromthesea.Hisfacewaspallidasmoonlight,icewhiteasthecheekofachildlongdead.

“I am going belowdecks. Unless, of course, you have any other brilliantsuggestions?”

BrotherZachariahnodded.Theshadowofhishoodfellacrossthescarofacrossonthevampire’sthroat.

Havefaith,Raphael.Iknowyourememberhow.

With the vampires safely hidden below and Robert Lightwood steering the shiptowards Manhattan, Brother Zachariah took on the task of cleaning up the deck,movingthebodiesoutofsight.He’dcallonhisbrotherstohelphimattendtothem,andtothesurvivors,whowerecurrentlysecuredinoneofthecabins.EnochandtheothersmightnotapproveofhisdecisiontohelpRaphael,buttheywouldstill fulfilltheirmandatetokeeptheShadowWorldhiddenandsafe.

OnceBrotherZachariahhad finished, all therewas todowaswait for the ship to

carrythemtothecity.Thenhewouldhavetoreturntohisowncity.Hetookaseatandwaited,enjoyingthesensationofthelightofanewdayonhisface.

Ithadbeenalongtimesincehefeltthelight,andlongersincehecouldtrulyenjoythesimplepleasureofit.

Hesatnearthebridge,wherehecouldseeRobertandyoungJonathanWaylandinthemorninglight.

“You’resureyou’reallright?”Robertsaid.

“Yes,”saidJonathan.

“Youdon’tlookmuchlikeMichael,”Robertaddedawkwardly.

“No,”saidJonathan.“IalwayswishedIdid.”

Theboy’sthinbackwasbracedtobeadisappointment.

Robertsaid:“Iamsureyou’reagoodboy.”

Jonathan did not look sure. Robert saved himself from awkwardness byconspicuouslyexaminingthecontrols.

The boy left the bridge, graceful despite the lurch of the boat and howweary hemust be. Zachariahwas startledwhen young Jonathan advanced across the deck towhereZachariahhimselfsat.

BrotherZachariahpulledhishoodclosearoundhisface.SomeShadowhuntersweredisquietedbyaSilentBrotherwhodidnotappearexactlyastherestdid,thoughtheSilentBrothers looked fearsomeenough.Hedidnotwant todistress theboy, eitherway.

JonathancarriedBrotherZachariah’sstaffbacktohim,balancedflatasatightropealonghispalms,andlaidthestaffwitharespectfulbowonZachariah’sknees.Theboymovedwithmilitarydisciplineunusualinonesoyoung,evenamongShadowhunters.BrotherZachariahhadnotknownMichaelWayland,butheguessedhemusthavebeenaharshman.

“BrotherEnoch?”theboyguessed.

No, said Brother Zachariah. He knew Enoch’s memories as his own. Enoch hadexamined the boy, though his memories were gray with lack of interest. BrotherZachariahbrieflywishedhecouldhavebeentheSilentBrotherathandforthischild.

“No,” the boy repeated slowly. “I should’ve known. Youmoved differently. I justthoughtitmightbe,sinceyougavemethestaff.”

Hebowedhishead. It struckZachariahas a sorry thing, that the childwouldnot

haveexpectedeventhesmallestmercyfromastranger.

“Thankyouforlettingmeuseit,”Jonathanadded.

Iamgladitwasuseful,returnedBrotherZachariah.

Theboy’sglanceupathisfacewasshocking,theflareoftwinsunsinwhatwasstillalmostnight.Theywerenottheeyesofasoldier,butawarrior.BrotherZachariahhadknownboth,andheknewthedifference.

The boy took a step back, nervous and agile, but stopped with his chin high.Apparentlyhehadaquestion.

Zachariahwasnotexpectingtheoneheasked.

“Whatdotheinitialsmean?Onyourstaff.DoallSilentBrothershavethem?”

Theylookedtogetheratthestaff.TheletterswerewornbytimeandZachariah’sownflesh, but they had been struck deep into the wood in the precise places whereZachariahwould put his hands on themwhen he fought. So, in a way, theywouldalwaysbefightingtogether.

TheletterswereWandH.

No,saidBrotherZachariah.Iamtheonlyone.IcarvedthemintothestaffonmyfirstnightintheCityofBones.

“Weretheyyourinitials?”theboyasked,hisvoicelowandalittletimid.“BackwhenyouwereaShadowhunter,likeme?”

BrotherZachariahstillconsideredhimselfaShadowhunter,butJonathanclearlydidnotmeananyoffense.

No, said Jem, because hewas always James Carstairswhen he spoke ofwhatwasdearesttohim.Notmine.Myparabatai’s.

WandH.WilliamHerondale.Will.

Theboylookedstruckyetwaryatthesametime.Therewasacertainguardednessabouthim,asifhewassuspiciousofwhateverZachariahmightsaybeforeheevenhadthechancetosayit.

“Myfathersays—said—aparabataicanbeagreatweakness.”

Jonathansaidthewordweaknesswithhorror.Zachariahwonderedwhatamanwhohaddrilledaboytofightlikethatmighthaveconsideredweakness.

Brother Zachariah did not choose to insult an orphan boy’s dead father, so hearrangedhisthoughtscarefully.Thisboywassoalone.Herememberedhowpreciousthatnewlinkcouldbe,especiallywhenyouhadnoother. Itcouldbethe lastbridge

thatconnectedyoutoalostlife.

Herememberedtravelingacrossthesea,havinglosthisfamily,notknowingthathewasgoingtohisbestfriend.

I suppose they can be aweakness, he answered. It depends onwho your parabatai is. IcarvedhisinitialsherebecauseIalwaysfoughtbestwithhim.

JonathanWayland,thechildwhofoughtlikeawarriorangel,lookedintrigued.

“Ithink—myfatherwassorryhehadaparabatai,”hesaid.“NowIhavetogoandlivewiththemanmyfatherwassorryabout.Idon’twanttobeweak,andIdon’twanttobesorry.Iwanttobethebest.”

Ifyoupretendtofeelnothing,thepretensemaybecometrue,saidJem.Thatwouldbeapity.

Hisparabataihadtriedtofeelnothing,foratime.ExceptwhathefeltforJem.Ithadalmostdestroyedhim.Andeveryday,Jempretendedtofeelsomething,tobekind,tofixwhatwasbroken,toremembernamesandvoicesalmostforgotten,andhopedthatwouldbecometruth.

Theboyfrowned.“Whywoulditbeapity?”

Webattlehardestwhenthatwhichisdearertousthanourownlivesisatstake,saidJem.Aparabataiisbothbladeandshield.Youbelongtogetherandtoeachothernotbecauseyouarethesamebutbecauseyourdifferentshapesfittogethertobeagreaterwhole,agreaterwarriorforahigherpurpose.Ialwaysbelievedwewerenotmerelyatourbesttogether,butbeyondthebesteitherofuscouldbeapart.

Aslowsmilebrokeacrosstheboy’sface, likesunriseburstingasabrightsurpriseuponthewater.

“I’dlikethat,”saidJonathanWayland,addingquickly:“Tobeagreatwarrior.”

Heflunghisheadbackinasudden,hastyassumptionofarrogance,asifheandJemmightbothhaveimaginedhemeantthathewouldliketobelongtosomeone.

This boy, hell-bent on fighting rather than finding a family. The Lightwoodsguardingagainstavampire,whentheycouldhaveextendedsometrust.Thevampire,holdingeveryfriendatbay.Allofthemhadtheirwounds,butBrotherZachariahcouldnothelpresentingthem,foreventheprivilegeoffeelinghurt.

Allthesepeoplewerestrugglingnottofeel,tryingtofreezetheirheartsinsidetheirchestsuntilthecoldfracturedandbrokethem.WhileJemwouldhavegiveneverycoldtomorrowhehadforonemoredaywithawarmheart,tolovethemasheoncehad.

ExceptJonathanwasachild,stilltryingtomakeadistantfatherproudevenwhendeathhadmadethedistancebetweenthemimpossible.Jemshouldbekind.

Jemthoughtoftheboy’sspeed,hisfearlessstrikewithanunfamiliarweapononastrangeandbloodynight.

I’msureyouwillbeagreatwarrior,saidJem.

JonathanWayland ducked his shaggy golden head to hide the faint color in hischeeks.

The boy’s forlornness made Jem recall too vividly the night he had carved thoseinitials into his staff, a long, cold night with all the icy strangeness of the SilentBrothersnewinhishead.Hehadnotwantedtodie,buthewouldhavechosendeathratherthantheawfulseveringfromloveandwarmth.IfonlyhecouldhavehadadeathinTessa’sarms,holdingWill’shand.Hehadbeenrobbedofhisdeath.

Itseemedimpossibletostayanythinglikehuman,inamongthebonesandendlessdark.

WhenthealiencacophonyoftheSilentBrothersthreatenedtoengulfallthathehadbeen, Jemheldfast tohis lifelines.Therehadbeennonestronger thanthatone,andonlyoneothersostrong.Hisparabatai’snamehadbeenashoutintotheabyss,acrythat always received an answer. Even in the Silent City, even with the silent howlinsisting that Jem’s life was no longer his own but a shared life. No longer mythoughts,butourthoughts.Nolongermywill,butourwill.

Hewouldnotacceptthatparting.MyWill.Thosewordsmeantsomethingdifferentto Jem than to anyone else, meant: my defiance against encroaching dark. Myrebellion.Mine,forever.

JonathanscuffedhisshoeagainstthedeckandpeeredupatJem,andJemrealizedhewastryingtoseeBrotherZachariah’sfacebeneaththehood.Jemdrewthehood,andtheshadows,close.Eventhoughhehadbeenrebuffed,JonathanWaylandofferedhimasmallsmile.

Jemhadnotlookedforanykindnessfromthishurtchild.ItmadeBrotherZachariahthinkthatJonathanWaylandmightgrowuptobemorethanagreatwarrior.

Maybe Jonathanwouldhaveaparabatai oneday, to teachhimthekindofmanhewantedtobe.

Thisisthelinkstrongerthananymagic,Jemhadtoldhimselfthatnight,knifeinhand,cuttingdeep.ThisisthebondIchose.

Hehadmadehismark.Hehad taken thenameZachariah,whichmeant remember.Rememberhim, Jemwilled himself.Remember them. Rememberwhy. Remember the onlyanswertotheonlyquestion.Donotforget.

Whenhelookedagain,JonathanWaylandwasgone.Hewishedhecouldthankthe

child,forhelpinghimremember.

IsabellehadneverbeentotheNewYorkPassengerShipTerminalbefore.Shewasnotveryimpressed.Theterminalwaslikeaglassandmetalsnake,andtheyhadtositinitsbellyandwait.Theshipswere likewarehousesonthewater,whenIsabellehadbeenpicturingaboatfromIdrisaslikeapirateship.

Ithadbeendarkwhentheywoke,and itwasbarelydawnnow,and freezing.Alecwashuddledinhishoodieagainstthewindblowingoffthebluewater,andMaxwasfussing at theirmother, cranky aboutbeingup so early. Basicallybothherbrotherswerecranky,andIsabelledidnotknowwhattoexpect.

Shesawherfatherwalkdownthegangwaywithaboybesidehim.Thedawndrewalineofthingoldoverthewater.Thewindmadelittlewhitecapeletsforeverywaveintheriverandplayedwiththegoldlocksoftheboy’shair.Theboy’sbackwasstraightandslimasarapier.Hewaswearingdark,closeclothesthatlookedalmostlikegear.Andtherewasbloodonthem.Hehadactuallybeenpartofthefighting.DadandMomhadnotletherorAlecfightevenonetinydemonyet!

IsabelleturnedtoAlec,confidenthewouldsharehersenseofdeepbetrayalatthisunfairness, and found him staring at the new arrival with wide eyes as thoughbeholdingarevelationwiththemorning.

“Wow,”Alecbreathed.

“Whataboutthatvampire?”Isabelledemanded,outraged.

Alecsaid:“Whatvampire?”

Momhushedthem.

JonathanWaylandhadgoldhairandgoldeyes,and thoseeyeshadnodepthsbutonly shiny reflective surface, showing as little as if theyweremetal doors slammeddownonatemple.Hedidnotevensmileashecametoastopinfrontofthem.

BringbackthatSilentBrother,wasIsabelle’sfeeling.

She looked to her mother, but Mom was staring at this new boy with an oddexpressiononherface.

Theboywaslookingbackather.“I’mJonathan,”hetoldherintently.

“Hello,Jonathan,”saidIsabelle’smother.“IamMaryse.It’snicetomeetyou.”

Shereachedoutandtouchedtheboy’shair.Jonathanflinchedbutheldhimselfstill,andMarysesmoothedbacktheshininggoldwavesthewindhadruffled.

“Ithinkweneedtogetyouahaircut,”Momsaid.

ItwassuchaMomthingtosay,itmadeIsabellesmileatthesametimeassherolledher eyes. Actually, the boy Jonathan did need a haircut. The ends of his hair werespillingoverhis collar,untidy as ifwhoeverhad cut it last—too long ago—hadnotcaredenoughtodoagoodjob.Hehadthefaintairofastrayanimal,furroughandonebreathawayfromasnarl,thoughthatdidnotmakesenseforakid.

Momwinked.“Thenyouwillbeevenmorehandsome.”

“Isthatevenpossible?”Jonathanaskeddryly.

Aleclaughed.Jonathanlookedsurprised,asifhehadnotnoticedAlecbeforethen.Isabelledidnotthinkhehadpaidattentiontoanyofthemexcepthermother.

“SayhellotoJonathan,kids,”saidIsabelle’sdad.

Max stared up at Jonathan in awe. He dropped his stuffed rabbit on the cementfloor, shuffled forward, andhugged Jonathan’s leg. Jonathan flinchedagain, thoughthistimeitwasmoreofaninstinctiverearback,untilthegeniusfiguredouthewasnotbeingattackedbyatwo-year-old.

“Hello,Jonathing,”saidMax,muffledintothematerialofJonathan’strousers.

JonathanpattedMaxontheback,verytentatively.

Isabelle’sbrotherswereso not showing sibling solidarityon the issueof JonathanWayland.Itwasworsewhentheygothomeandmadeawkwardsmalltalkeventhougheverybodyreallywantedtogobacktobed.

“Jonathingcansleepinmyroombecauseweloveeachother,”Maxproposed.

“Jonathanhashisownroom.Say‘Sleepwell,Jonathan,’”saidMaryse.“YoucanseeJonathanafterwe’veallhadalittlemorerest.”

Isabellewenttoherownroom,butshewasstillbuzzingwithexcitementandcouldnotsleep.Shewaspaintinghertoenailswhensheheardthetinycreakofadoordownthehall.

Isabelleleapedup,thetoenailsofonefootpaintedsparklyblackandtheotherfootstillencasedinafuzzypinksock,andrantothedoor.Sheedgeditopenafractionandpokedherheadout,andcaughtAlecdoingthesamethingfromhisownroom.TheybothwatchedthesilhouetteofJonathanWaylandcreepingdownthecorridor.IsabellemadeacomplicatedseriesofgesturestodeterminewhetherAlecwantedtofollowhimtogether.

Alecstaredatherintotalbafflement.Isabellelovedherbigbrother,butsometimesshe despaired about their future demon-hunting endeavors. He was so bad atrememberinghercoolmilitary-stylesignals.

ShegaveupandtheybothhurriedafterJonathan,whodidnotknowthelayoutoftheInstituteandcouldonlyretracehisstepstothekitchen.

Whichwaswhere they found him. Jonathan had his shirt pulled up, and hewasdabbingawetdishtowelalongtheredcutrunninguphisside.

“BytheAngel,”saidAlec.“You’rehurt.Whydidn’tyousay?”

IsabellehitAlecinthearmfornotbeingstealthy.

Jonathanstaredatthem,guiltwrittenacrosshisfaceasifhehadbeenstealingfromthecookiejarratherthaninjured.

“Don’ttellyourparents,”hesaid.

AlecleftIsabelle’ssideandrantoJonathan.Heexaminedthecut,thenshepherdedJonathantowardastool,makinghimsitdown.Isabellewasunsurprised.AlecalwaysfussedwhensheorMaxfelldown.

“It’sshallow,”Alecsaidafteramoment,“butourparentsreallywouldwanttoknow.Momcouldputaniratzeon—orsomething—”

“No!It’sbetterforyourparentsnottoknowithappenedatall.Itwasjustbadluckoneofthemgotme.I’magoodfighter,”Jonathanprotestedsharply.

Hewassovehementitwasalmostalarming.Ifhehadn’tbeentenyearsold,Isabellewould have thought he was worried they might send him away for being aninadequatesoldier.

“You’reobviouslygreat,”saidAlec.“Youjustneedsomeonetohaveyourback.”

HeputhishandlightlyonJonathan’sshoulderashespoke. ItwasasmallgestureIsabellewouldnotevenhavenoted,exceptforthefactshehadneverseenAlecreachoutlikethattoanyonewhowasnotfamilyandthatJonathanWaylandwentperfectlystillathistouch,asifhewasafraidthetiniestmovementwouldscareAlecaway.

“Doesithurtalot?”Alecaddedsympathetically.

“No,”JonathanWaylandwhispered.

IsabellethoughtitwasperfectlyclearJonathanWaylandwouldclaimhavinghislegcutoffdidnothurt,butAlecwasanhonestsoul.

“Okay,” saidherbrother. “Letmegraba few things from the infirmary.Let’sdealwiththistogether.”

Alec nodded in an encouraging fashion and went to fetch supplies from theinfirmary,leavingIsabelleandthisweirdbleedingboyalonetogether.

“Soyouandyourbrotherseem…reallyclose,”Jonathansaid.

Isabelleblinked.“Sure.”

Whataconcept,beingclosetoyourfamily.Isabellerefrainedfrombeingsarcastic,asJonathanwasbothunwellandaguest.

“So…Iguessyou’regoingtobeparabatai,”Jonathanventured.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” said Isabelle. “Beingparabatai is a little old-fashioned,isn’t it?Besides, Idon’t like the ideaofgivingupmy independence.Before I ammyparents’ daughter ormy brothers’ sister, I ammy own. I’m already a lot of people’ssomething.Idon’tneedtobeanyoneelse’sanything,notforalongtime.Youknow?”

Jonathan smiled. He had a chipped tooth. Isabelle wondered how that hadhappened,andhopedithadbeenchippedinanawesomefight.“Idon’tknow.I’mnotreallyanyone’sanything.”

Isabelle bit her lip. She had never realized before that she took feeling secure forgranted.

JonathanhadglancedatIsabelleashespoke,butimmediatelyafterhereturnedtowatchingthedoorthroughwhichAlechaddisappeared.

IsabellecouldnothelpobservingthatJonathanWaylandhadlivedintheirhomeforlessthanthreehours,andhewasalreadytryingtolockdownaparabatai.

Then he slouched farther into his chair, resuming his too-cool-for-the-Instituteattitude,andsheforgotthethoughtinannoyancethatJonathanwassuchashow-off.She,Isabelle,wastheonlyshow-offthisInstituteneeded.

SheandJonathanstaredeachotherdownuntilAlecreturned.

“Oh—wouldyouratherIputonthebandagesordoyouwanttodoityourself?”

Jonathan’sfacewasopaque.“Icandoitmyself.Idon’tneedanything.”

“Oh,”Alecsaidunhappily.

Isabelle could not tell if Jonathan’s expressionless face was to ward them off orprotecthimself,buthewashurt.Alecwasstillshywithstrangers,andJonathanwasaclosed-offhumanbeing,sotheyweregoingtobeawkwardeventhoughIsabellecouldtelltheybothreallylikedeachother.Isabellesighed.Boyswerehopeless,andshehadtotakechargeofthissituation.

“Hold still, idiot,” she ordered Jonathan, seized ointment fromAlec’s hands, andbegantosmearitoverJonathan’scut.“Iamgoingtobeaministeringangel.”

“Um,”saidAlec.“That’salotofointment.”

Itdid looka little likewhenyousqueezedthecenterof thetubeof toothpastetoo

hard,butIsabellefeltyoudidnotgetresultswithoutbeingwillingtomakeamess.

“It’sfine,”saidJonathanquickly.“It’sgreat.Thankyou,Isabelle.”

Isabelleglancedupandgrinnedathim.Alecefficientlyunwoundabandage.Havinggot themstarted, Isabellesteppedback.Herparentswouldobject if sheaccidentallyturnedtheirguestintoamummy.

“What’s going on?” saidRobert Lightwood’s voice from the door. “Jonathan! Yousaidyouwerenothurt.”

WhenIsabellelooked,shesawbothhermomanddadstandingatthethresholdofthekitchen,armsfoldedandeyesnarrowed.SheimaginedtheywouldhaveobjectionstoherandAlecplayingdoctorwiththenewkid.Strongobjections.

“WewerejustpatchingJonathanup,”Alecannouncedanxiously,ranginghimselfinfrontofJonathan’sstool.“Nobigdeal.”

“ItwasmyfaultIgothurt,”saidJonathan.“Iknowexcusesareforincompetents.Itwon’thappenagain.”

“Itwon’t?”askedhermother.“Allwarriorsgetwoundedsometimes.PlanningtorunawayandbecomeaSilentBrother?”

Jonathan Wayland shrugged. “I applied to the Iron Sisters, but they sent me ahurtfulandsexistrefusal.”

Everyone laughed. Jonathan looked briefly startled again, then pleased, before heshut away his expressions as if slamming a lid down on a treasure chest. Isabelle’smother was the one who went and attended to Jonathan’s wound, while her fatherstayedbythedoor.

“Jonathan?”Maryseremarked.“Doesanyoneevercallyouanythingelse?”

“No,”saidJonathan.“MyfatherusedtotellajokeabouthavinganotherJonathan,ifIwasn’tgoodenough.”

Isabelledidnotthinkthatwasmuchofajoke.

“IalwaysthinkthatnamingoneofourkidsJonathanis likethemundanescallingkidsJebediah,”saidIsabelle’smother.

“John,”saidherfather.“MundanesoftencalltheirkidsJohn.”

“Dothey?”askedMaryse,andshrugged.“IcouldhaveswornitwasJebediah.”

“My middle name is Christopher,” said Jonathan. “You can—you can call meChristopherifyoulike.”

MaryseandIsabelleexchangedaspeakinglook.Sheandhermotherhadalwaysbeen

abletocommunicatelikethis.Isabellethoughtitwasbecausetheyweretheonlygirls,andspecialtoeachother.Shecouldnotimaginehermothertellingheranythingshewouldnotwanttohear.

“We’renotgoingtorenameyou,”saidMomsadly.

Isabellewasnot sure ifhermotherwas sad that Jonathan thought theywoulddothat,givehimadifferentnameasifhewereapet,orsadthathewouldhaveletthem.

What Isabellewas sure aboutwas that hermotherwaswatching Jonathan in thesamewayshehadwatchedMaxwhenhewasstilllearningtowalk,andtherewouldbenomorediscussionofatrialperiod.Jonathanwasobviouslyheretostay.

“Maybeanickname,”Maryseproposed.“WhatwouldyouthinkofJace?”

Hewassilentforamoment,observingIsabelle’smothercarefullyfromthecornerofhiseye.Atlastheofferedherasmile,faintandcoolasthelightinearlymorning,butgrowingwarmwithhope.

JonathanWaylandsaid:“IthinkJacewillwork.”

Asaboywasintroducedtoafamily,andvampiressleptcoldbutcurledtogetherinthehold of a ship, Brother Zachariah walked through a city not his own. The peoplehurryingbycouldnotseehim,buthesawthelightintheireyesasifithadbeenmadenew.Theblareof carhorns and screamof tires fromyellow cabs and the chatter ofmanyvoicesinmanytonguesformedalong,livingsong.BrotherZachariahcouldnotsingthesong,buthecouldlisten.

Thiswasnot the first time this hadhappened tohim, seeing a trace ofwhathadbeen in what was. The coloring was entirely different. The boy did not really haveanything todowithWill. Jemknew that. Jem—for in themomentshe rememberedWill,hewasalwaysJem—wasusedtoseeinghislostanddearestShadowhunterinathousandShadowhunterfacesandgestures,theturnofaheadorthenoteofavoice.Never thebelovedhead,never the long-silent voice,but sometimes,more andmorerarely,somethingclose.

Jem’s handwas firmly clasped around his staff.He had not paid attention to thecarvingbeneathhispalmlikethisformanyalong,coldday.

Thisisareminderofmyfaith.Ifthereisanypartofhimthatcanbewithme,andIbelievethere is, thenhe isathand.Nothing canpartus.Heallowedhimselfa smile.Hismouthcouldnotopen,buthecouldstillsmile.HecouldstillspeaktoWill,thoughhecouldnolongerhearanyanswer.

Lifeisnotaboat,bearingusfarawayonacruel,relentlesstidefromallwelove.Youarenot

losttomeonsomeforeverdistantshore.Lifeisawheel.

Fromtheriver,hecouldhearmermaids.Allthesparksofthecitybymorningwerekindlinganewfire.Anewdaywasborn.

Iflifeisawheel,itwillbringyoubacktome.AllImustdoiskeepfaith.

Even when having a heart seemed hard past bearing, it was better than thealternative. Even when Brother Zachariah felt he was losing the struggle, losingeverythinghehadbeen,therewashope.

Sometimesyouseemveryfarawayfromme,myparabatai.

Lightonwaterhadnotrivaledtheboy’sblazingcontradictionofasmile,somehowbothindomitableandtooeasilyhurt.Hewasachildgoingtoanewhome,asWillandtheboyZachariahhadbeenhadoncetraveledinlonelysorrowtotheplacewheretheywouldfindeachother.Jemhopedhewouldfindhappiness.

Jemsmiledbackataboylonggone.

Sometimes,Will,hesaid.Youseemveryclose.

Read on for an snippet from the second Ghosts of the Shadow Market story, “Cast LongShadows,”byCassandraClareandSarahReesBrennan:

CastLongShadowsexcerpt

Oldsinscastlongshadows—EnglishProverb

London,1901

Therailwayviaductpassedonlyahair’sbreadthawayfromthechurchofSt.Savior.Therehadbeendiscussionamongthemundanesaboutthepossibilityofdemolishingthe church to make way for the railroad, but it had met with unexpectedly fierceopposition.Insteadtherailwaytookaslightlymorecircuitousroute,andthespireofthechurchstillremained,asilverdaggeragainstthenightsky.

Beneaththearches,crosses,andrattlingrails,amundanemarketwasheldbyday,the largest association of grocers in the city. By night, themarket belonged to theDownworld.

Vampires and werewolves, warlocks and the fey, met under the stars and underglamourthathumaneyescouldnotpierce.Theyhadtheirmagicstallssetup inthesamepatternasthehumans’stalls,underthebridgesandthroughtinystreets,buttheShadowMarketstallsdidnotholdapplesorturnips.Underthedarkarchesthestallsshone,ladenwithbellsandribbons,gaudywithcolor:snakegreen,feverred,andthestartlingorangeofflames.BrotherZachariahsmelledincenseburningandheardthesongs of werewolves for the distant beauty of the moon, and faeries calling forchildrentocomeaway,comeaway.

ItwasthefirstShadowMarketoftheNewYearbyEnglishstandards,thoughitwasstill theoldyear inChina.BrotherZachariahhadleftShanghaiwhenhewasachild,and London when he was seventeen, to go to the Silent City, where there was noacknowledgmentoftimepassingsavethattheashesofmorewarriorswerelaiddown.StillherememberedthecelebrationsoftheNewYearinhishumanlife,fromeggnogand fortune-telling in London to the setting off of fireworks and nibbling ofmoondumplingsinShanghai.

Now,snowwasfallingonLondon.Theairwascrispandcoldasafreshapple,andfelt good against his face. The voices of his brothers were a low hum in his head,

affordingBrotherZachariahalittledistance.

Zachariah was here on a mission, but he took a brief time to be glad he was inLondon,intheShadowMarket,tobreatheairclearofthedustofthedeparted.Itfeltsomethinglikefreedom,likebeingyoungagain.

Herejoiced,butthatdidnotmeanthepeopleoftheShadowMarketrejoicedwithhim.He observedmanyDownworlders, and evenmundaneswith the Sight, castinghimlooksthatweretheoppositeofwelcoming.Ashemoved,adarkmurmurthreadedthroughthehumofconversationallaroundhim.

ThedenizensoftheDownworldconsideredthisMarkettimeasspacesnatchedawayfromangels.Theyclearlydidnotrelishhispresenceamongthem.BrotherZachariahwasoneof theSilentBrothers, avoiceless fraternity that lived longamidoldbones,sworn to seclusion with hearts dedicated to the dust of their city and their dead.NobodycouldbeexpectedtoembraceaSilentBrother,andthesepeoplewouldnotbelikelytotakepleasureintheappearanceofanyShadowhunteratall.

Evenashedoubted,hesawastrangersightthananyhehadexpectedintheMarket.

There was a Shadowhunter boy dancing a cancan with three faeries. He wasCharlotteandHenryFairchild’syoungerson,MatthewFairchild.Hisheadwasthrownback,hisfairhairbrightbyfirelight,andhewaslaughing.

Brother Zachariah had an instant to wonder if Matthew was spellbound beforeMatthew caught sight of him and bounded forward, leaving the fairies behind himlookingdiscomfited.TheFairFolkwerenotaccustomedtohavingmortalsskipoutontheirdances.

Matthew did not appear to notice. He ran up to Brother Zachariah, threw anexuberant arm about his neck, and ducked his head under the hood of the SilentBrothertogivehimakissonthecheek.

“UncleJem!”Matthewexclaimedjoyfully.“Whatareyoudoinghere?”

“CastLongShadows”byCassandraClareandSarahReesBrennanwillbepublishedon8May,2018.

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CassandraClareonline

AbouttheAuthors

CASSANDRACLAREwasborn toAmericanparents inTeheran, Iranand spentmuchofher childhood traveling theworldwithher family.She lived inFrance,EnglandandSwitzerlandbeforeshewastenyearsold.Sinceherfamilymovedaroundsomuchshefoundfamiliarityinbooksandwenteverywherewithabookunderherarm.Shespenther high school years in Los Angeles where she used to write stories to amuse herclassmates, including an epic novel called “The Beautiful Cassandra” based on theeponymous JaneAusten short story (and fromwhich she later tookher currentpenname).

Aftercollege,CassielivedinLosAngelesandNewYorkwheresheworkedatvariousentertainmentmagazinesandevensomerathersuspecttabloids.ShestartedworkingonherYAnovel,CityofBones,in2004,inspiredbytheurbanlandscapeofManhattan,herfavoritecity.

In2007,thefirstbookintheMortalInstrumentsseries,CityofBones,introducedtheworldtoShadowhunters.TheMortalInstrumentsconcludedin2014,andincludesCityofAshes,CityofGlass,CityofFallenAngels,CityofLostSouls,andCityofHeavenlyFire.Shealso created a prequel series, inspired by A Tale of Two Cities and set in VictorianLondon. This series, The Infernal Devices, follows bookworm Tessa Gray as shediscovers the London Institute in Clockwork Angel, Clockwork Prince, and ClockworkPrincess.

The sequel series to The Mortal Instruments, The Dark Artifices, where theShadowhunterstakeonLosAngeles,beganwithLadyMidnight,continueswithLordofShadowsandwillconcludewithQueenofAirandDarkness.

OtherbooksintheShadowhuntersseriesincludeTheBaneChronicles,TalesfromtheShadowhunterAcademy,andTheShadowhunter’sCodex.

Her books have more than 36 million copies in print worldwide and have beentranslatedintomorethanthirty-fivelanguages.VisitheratCassandraClare.com.

SARAH REES BRENNAN was born and raised in Ireland by the sea, where her teachersvaliantlytriedtomakeherfluentinIrish(shewantsyoutoknowit’snotcalledGaelic)but she chose to read books under her desk in class instead. The booksmost oftenfound under her desk were Jane Austen, Margaret Mahy, Anthony Trollope, RobinMcKinleyandDianaWynneJones,andshestilllovesthemalltoday.Aftercollegeshe

livedbrieflyinNewYorkandsomehowsurvivedinspiteofherhabitofhitchingliftsin fire engines. She began working on The Demon’s Lexicon while doing a CreativeWriting MA and library work in Surrey, England. Since then she has returned toIrelandtowriteanduseasahomebaseforfutureadventures.HerIrishisstillwoeful,butshefeelsthebooksunderthedeskwereworthit.SarahisalsothetheauthoroftheLynburnLegacyseries,andthenovelsTelltheWindandFireandInOtherLands.Visitheratsarahreesbrennan.com.

BonusMaterial:

NotforHumansby

CASSANDRACLAREand

HOLLYBLACK

Kayereallywasn’texpectingShadowhunterstocometoMooninaCup,especiallyonopeningday.Shewasn’tevenreallysurewhatShadowhuntersdid.Theyappearedtobelievethat theworldwasmenacedbydemons,worea lotofweapons, tattooedoneanother,anddidn’ttrustanyonewhowasn’toneofthem.Kayehadoncepointedoutthat she’d never seen a demon and, really, she’d seen plenty of odd things. TheShadowhunter she’dbeen talkingwithhadclaimedhernot seeinganydemonsonlyprovedthattheShadowhuntersweredoingtheirjob.She’dstoppedarguingafterthat.

Youcan’tproveanegative,Cornyhadsaid.Itannoyedher,though,becausenotonlydid they believe in demons, but they thought faeries like herwere part demon too.Thatmadealltheweaponcarryingandweirdnessalittlemorenervous-makingthanitmighthavebeenotherwise.ButLuislikedthemand,besides,Kayeneededcustomers.

Shejusthopedtheydidn’teatthescones.

Moon in a Cup was her dream and now that it was finally happening, she wasincrediblynervous.Shelovedthesmelloftheespressointheair,thecloudsofsteamandthesoundoffrothingmilk.Shelovedallthethingsthatsheandherfriendshadscavenged fromthrift salesand fromthesideof the road.Ratty littlewooden tables

thatsheandValerieandRuthhaddecoupagedwithpostcardsandsheetsofmusicandpages fromencyclopedias.Gold-paintedchairs.Outsiderart andweirdantlersandafew landscapes with sea serpents painted on top of them. Mismatched cups thatranged frombone china to chipped bowlswith pictures of ducks on them tomugswithslogansforbusinesseslongclosed.Everysingleonefeltlikeatreasuretoher,butshe’d never owned anything before or been very responsible. She’d worried overwhethershecouldhandleit–whethershe’devenlikeitonceitwasreal–formonths.

Andnow,finally,finally,finally,theplacewasopen.

Ravus and Luis had painted a big sign announcing their GRAND OPENING, whichhungabovetheregister.There,insomewhatorganizedcanisters,werethemakingsformanythings,bothmortalandlessso.Inadditiontovariouscoffeedrinks,includingthe terrifyingRedEye, and theDirtyChai, theywere servingherbal teasmade fromnettle,milkthistleanddandelion,rosehipandsticklewort,bluecapandcoltsfoot.

Then one of the Unseelie knights, Dulcamara, had sent Kaye a large basket ofpastries– scones,muffins,all tarts–allbakedwith faerie fruit,noneofwhichKayecouldpicture theknightmakingherself.Cornyhadput themout,butmarkedthemNOTFORHUMANS,whichKayeworriedmightconfusepeoplewhocame inoff thestreet.Still,she’dbeentoobusytodomorethanpromiseherselfthatshewasgoingtokeepaneyeonthem.

TheplacewasalreadyhalffullbythetimetheShadowhuntersarrived.Therewereaton of faerie folk that Kaye didn’t know — denizens of Roiben’s court, lookingcuriouslyaroundatthedécor.CornywashelpingKayebehindthebar,mixingupapotofseaweedteaforasharp-dressedkelpiewhowinkedathim.Cornydidn’twinkback,probably because Luis was watching him from across the room with an amusedexpression, flankedbyVal,her short redhairgrowingout in curls,Ravus, andVal’sbestfriendRuthwithhernewgirlfriendwhosehairwasdyedthecolorofablueberry.

Luisstoppedwatchinghisboyfriend,though,andlookedoveratthedoorwhentheShadowhunterscamein.Theytendedtoattractattention,eventhoughtheywereoftenglamouredupliketheyreallydidn’twantit.Still,itwashardtoignoreagroupoftall,heavilyarmedpeoplewhosecheekboneswereassharpastheirweaponry.

Itwasagroupofthreeofthem:twoboysandagirl.Thetallerboyhadblackhairandblue eyes, andwore a bow andquiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.His handswereinhispocketsandhewasglaringlikehereallydidn’twanttobethere.Theboynext to himwas blond, really bright blond, with hair the same color that the goldchairswerepainted.Hewaswearinga long leather jacketsoanyweaponshehadonhimwereprobablyconcealed,althoughKayewassuretheywerethere.Thegirlhadthe

same longblackhair as the tallboy—siblings,Kayeguessed—thoughher eyesweredark.Shewaswearingaflowinglacytopandavelvetskirt,andaveryunusualsortofgoldenbanglethatcurledoverandoverupherarm.

“Meliorn!” thegirl criedoutuponentering, anddashedacross the room to throwherselfintothearmsofafaerieknightinwhitearmor.Kayerecognizedhimasoneofthe Seelie Court’s knights, kind of a silent, stuck-up type. He returned theShadowhuntergirl’sembrace.

“Isabelle,”hesaid.“Youareaslovelyasawillowtree.”

Kayesmirkedtoherself.Ah,faeriecompliments.Somewillowtreeswerelovelyandsomeweren’t,sothecomplimentdidn’tmeanmuch.TheShadowhuntergirl,Isabelle,seemed topurrunderhiswords, though;graspinghimbyhis slightlypointed ears,shekissedhimfirmly.

Well,thatwasnew.Shadowhuntersdatingfaeries?

The twoboyscameup to thebar, lookingaround like theywere sure thatanyonewouldbehonoredtoservethemcoffee.Kayewasn’tsoconvinced.

“Sowhat’saredeye?”askedtheblondone.

“It’sashotofespressoinacupofcoffee,”Kayeexplained.“Notforamateurs.”

The blond boy grinned.He had that kind of grin that really good-looking peoplewhoknewtheyweregood-lookinghad.Itwasmorethanalittleintimidating.“Ithinkyou’llfindI’mnotanamateuratanything.”

“Sodoesthatmeanyouwantone,ornot?”Kayealwaysfeltawkwardaroundboyslikehim,surethattheywerelaughingather.

“Ithinkitmeansifyoucomeoutfrombehindthatcounterandspendafewminuteswithmesomewherealittlemoreprivate,youwon’tbedisappointed.”

Kayestaredathim,open-mouthed.Washereallysuggestingtheygohavesex?Likeright then, in themiddleofher shift?Ormaybehemeant somethingelse.She tookanotherlookathim.Nope,probablynot.

“Jace,” hissed the boy standing next to him. “Just order a freaking cookie orsomething.”

“I like cookies,” said Jace, with a particularly charming smile, “but what I reallypreferisprettyladieswithgreenskin.”

“Slowyourroll,CaptainKirk,”saidCorny.“Shehasaboyfriend.”

“Aseriousone?”Jaceinquired—hewasstillsmilinginthatannoyinglycharmingwaythatmadeithardtobeirritated.

“Hehasaseriouslybigsword,”Cornysaid.“Andhe’llbehereanyminute.”

Jace’shandwenttohiswaist.“Well,ifit’sseriouslybigswordswe’rediscussing—”

Thedark-hairedboythunkedhisheaddownonthecountertop.

“Stop thispointless flirting,”hesaid. “Or Iwillbashmyhead throughthispastrycase.”

“Iwishyouwouldn’t,”saidKaye.“Wejusthaditinstalled.”

“Calmdown,Alec.”Jaceshrugged,inano-harm-tryingkindofwayandflashedhisgrin atCorny. “In that case, I guesswe’ll have tomakedowith twoRedEyes and ascone.”

“Thesconesaren’tforhumans,”Kayeprotested.

“We’renothumans,”saidJace.

Kayewasabouttoprotestagain,whenCornyslidaplatewithasconeonitontothecountertopwithaflourish.

Shewantedtosnatchitback–faeriefruitwasn’twiseforanyone–butitwouldbebadfor business to be seen wrestling food away from customers, especially when theywerecurrentlyintheprocessofpayingforit.Besides,shethought,tryingtoconvinceherself,people likedfaeriefruit. Itmadethema littlecrazy,sure,andtherewasthatonetimethatCornyhadrecitedallthelyricstoSynchronicitywhileeatingthemandthatothertimethathe’dmaybebeeninvolvedinanorgy,butonthewhole,Jacewouldprobablybefine.

Shadowhunterswere supposed tobedifferent.Maybe theyhadsomecontroloverthemselvesthatordinaryhumanbeingsdidn’t.Therumoraboutthemwasthattheywere part angel, and Kaye couldn’t imagine angels running around reciting all thelyrics to Synchronicity or getting into orgiastic situations. Then again, she couldn’tpictureangelshittingonhereither.

“Enjoyit,”shesaid,finally,givingupandsettingtheircoffeedrinksonthecounter.Alectookthechangeshehandedoutanddumpeditinthetipjar.Shefeltbadforhim.ItwasobvioushehadabitofacrushonJace,andequallyobviousthathewashavingaprettybadday.

Shewatched as theymade their way across the shop and sank down on a couchacross from Isabelle andMeliorn,whowere busy rubbingnoses andmaking cutesyfacesateachother.JaceandAlecrolledtheireyes.

Anotherboycamein,staggeringalittle.Hisblackhairstuckstraightup,thickwithglitter,andheappearedtobevery,verydrunk.Hehadastackofpaperswithhimand

washandingthemouttothepatrons.Everytimesomeonetookone,therewasalittleelectricburstofglitter.

Finally he sprawled out in an armchair near Isabelle, and leaned over to her. ShebrokeawayfromMeliorn,frowningathim—heseemedtobesayingsomethingabouthiscat’sbirthdayashewavedanotherpieceofpaperather.Ormaybehewastalkingabouthisownbirthday,sincehiseyeslookedverylikethereflective,unblinkingeyesofacat.Kayewonderedwhathewas.Notafaerie,andnotaShadow-huntereither.

“The Magnificent Magnus?” Isabelle said, dubiously, then shrugged. “But, hey,thanksfortheinvite.”Shetookthepaper,foldeditup,andthrustitdownthefrontofhershirtbeforegoingbacktokissingMeliorn.

For a few minutes, Kaye was absorbed in making another pot of seaweed tea,passingoverthreeespressoshotstoatrioofhobgoblinsandmakingoneDirtyChaifor ahuman inabusiness suitwhoseemeda littleunnerved, as thoughdespitenotbeing able to see through the glamour all around him, he was able to discern thatsomethingabouttheothercustomerswasalittleoff.Hescuttledawayassoonasshehandedhimthedrink,clearingthewayforhertoseeacrosstheroom—

TowhereJacewastakingoffhisclothes.Thesconeplateonthecoffeetableinfrontofhimwasempty,andhehadadreamyexpressiononhisface–thedreamyexpressionofahumanwhohadeatenfaeriefruit.Hehadalreadyshruggedoffhislongcoat,andwasgettingtoworkonthebuttonsofhisshirt.

“Jace,”Alechissed.“Jace,whatareyoudoing?”

“It’swarminhere,”Jacesaid,inaslurredvoice.Twokniveshittheground.

Acrosstheroom,severalfaeriesbegantogiggle.Jacekickedoffhisbootsandsocks.

“Corny,”Kayesaid.“Dosomething.Thisisentirelyyourfault,youknow.Yougavehimthosescones.”

Corny was watching Jace undressing with raised eyebrows and an appreciativeexpressiononhisface.“IthinkImightbesomekindofgenius.Youcouldn’tpaymetostopthis.”

Jacehadwhippedhisshirtoff.KayesquintedandhadtoadmitCornyhadapoint.You rarely saw a body like that outside ofmagazine spreads. Some people had six-packs;Jaceappearedtohaveatwelve-pack.Itdidn’tlookhumanlypossible.“Couldbegood forbusiness,” shemusedandpulledherself anespressoshot.She thought shewasgoingtoneedit.

“Maybewe could gethim todo it everyday?”Corny said, as Jaceunbuttonedhisjeans.Alecattemptedtostophim,butJacemovednimblyoutofhiswayandkicked

thejeansoffwithaflourish.

“Don’ttrytostopme,Alec,”saidJace.“Thisbodyhastobefree.”

IsabellelookedupfromkissingMeliornandhereyeswidened.“Holycrap,”shesaid.“Jace—”

Shestartedtostandup,butJacehadalreadymadehiswaytothedoor.Hepausedthereandbowed—toconsiderableapplause—pluckedthepairofantlersoffthewall,andplacedthemgentlyonhishead.Thenhedartedoutthedoor,justasRoibencamein.

Roiben,inhislongblackcloak,raisedbothhissilverbrowsandstaredafterJace,asmallsmileplayingatthecornerofhislips.HelookedabouttoaskMeliornaquestionandthenseemedtothinkbetterofit.Then,abruptly,hebegantolaugh.

“Oh,bytheAngel,”Alecsaidmournfully.“Anotherplacewecannevergotoagain.You’dthink,inacityasbigasNewYork…”

Kaye noticed that the boozy Magnus the Magnificent was watching Alec with agleaminhiscatlikeeyes.ItreallywastoobadAlecseemedtoosunkingloomtonotice.

“Weshouldhavehungasignonthatguy,”Cornysaid.“Imaginetheadvertising.”

And right then,Kaye realized two things.Onewas that Shadowhuntersmight begoodatkillingthings,buttheirdatingliveswereamess.Andtheotherwasthatshewasgoingtoloveowningacoffeeshop.