فصل 19

19

THE JEWELLED DEAD

Emma dreamed of fire and thunder, and was woken by the sound of splintering wood. At least, it sounded like the wood was splintering. When she sat up, groggy and confused, Julian’s arm still around her waist, she realized it was someone knocking very, very hard at the bedroom door.

Julian moved, groaning softly in his sleep; Emma extricated herself and padded over to throw the door open, expecting Cameron or Livvy.

It was Diana.

The sight of her acted like a shot of caffeine. She was all in black, from her black motorcycle boots to her leather pants and jacket. Her hair was secured in a tight, curly ponytail at the back of her head. She looked intimidating, but Emma didn’t care much: She gave a little yelp and threw her arms around Diana, who made a loud noise of surprise.

“Whoa there, stranger,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry.” Julian had appeared and gently peeled Emma away. “In our world, you’re our tutor.” “Oh, right. Your alternate dimension. Livvy told me about it when I got back from my pharmacy run.” Diana raised her eyebrows. “Wild.” “Do you not know us at all here?” Emma asked with some disappointment.

“Not since you were little kids. I saw you in the Accords Hall during the Dark War, before they Portaled all the children away. You were good little fighters,” she added. “Then I heard you got Endarkened. I didn’t expect I’d see you again unless you were pointing the business end of a gun at me.” “Well,” Emma said. “Good surprise, huh?”

Diana looked darkly amused. “Come on. You can tell me what I’m like in your world while I take you to the lobby.” They threw on clothes—boots, long-sleeved shirts, bomber jackets. Emma wondered where the rebels got their supplies. Her black pants felt like they were made out of canvas or something else similarly thick and itchy. The boots were cool, though, and she had to admit she liked the way Julian wore his faded shirt and army pants. They clung to his lean, muscular body in a way that made her try not to think about the previous night.

As they left the room, Julian tore a page from his sketchbook and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “For luck,” he said.

They joined Diana in the hallway, their boots clomping loudly on the polished wood. “In our world,” Emma said, as they headed down a set of stairs, “you’re dating a faerie.” Diana frowned. “A faerie? Why would I be dating a traitor?”

“Things are a little more complicated at home.”

“Things are pretty complicated here, kid,” Diana said as they reached the ground floor. “Come on through.” They passed under a brick archway and into a massive room full of furniture that looked as if it had been scrounged from different offices. There were modern steel-and-leather couches, and vintage patchwork and velvet ones. Armchairs made of cotton and chintz, some in good shape and some torn up; cheap chipboard tables on metal legs, laid end to end to create a sort of boardroom effect.

There was a crowd in the room: Emma saw Livvy and Cameron, Bat and Maia, and a few familiar faces—Divya Joshi and Rayan Maduabuchi, one or two of the older Los Angeles Conclave members. They were all staring at the east wall of the room—ordinary brick and sandstone, it was currently burning with huge, fiery letters, reaching from one end of the wall to the other.

SEEK CHURCH.

“Do you understand it?” Diana said. “Nobody here does. Churches aren’t doing well in this world. They’re all deconsecrated and full of demons.” “Everyone’s so quiet,” Emma said, whispering herself. “Are they—scared?”

“Not really,” said Diana. “I think it’s just been so long since any of us have seen magic.” Livvy pushed her way through the crowd toward them, leaving Cameron behind. “Is this from Tessa Gray?” she demanded, eyes wide, as she reached them. “Is this a response to that summons? Did it work?” “Yeah,” Julian said. “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what this is. Tessa wants us to come to her.” “Not too trusting,” said Diana. “She must have some sense.”

“But the church part?” Livvy looked puzzled. “What church does she mean?”

“She means a cat,” said Julian.

“And please don’t say all the cats are dead,” said Emma. “I’m not sure I can cope with feline death on a massive scale.” “Cats actually do okay here,” said Diana. “They’re a little demony themselves.”

Livvy waved her hands. “Can we stick to specifics? What do you mean, a cat?”

“An unusual cat,” said Julian. “His name’s Church. He belonged to Jem Carstairs once, and he used to live with us in the Institute after the Dark War.” “We can’t go to the Institute,” said Emma. “It’s full of evil Ashdowns.”

“Yeah, but Church was a wandering cat—you remember,” Julian said. “He didn’t really live in the Institute with us. He padded around on the beach and stopped by whenever he felt like it. And he led us where he wanted us to go. If we find Church—he could lead us to Tessa.” “Tessa and Brother Zachariah did have a foul-tempered cat with them in New York, after the war,” said Livvy.

“I’ll go with you to the beach,” Diana said.

“That means you have to cross the whole city in daylight,” Livvy said. “I don’t like it.” “Would it be safer to go at night?” said Julian.

“No, that’s even worse,” Livvy said.

“Hey,” said a soft voice.

Emma turned to see a boy with wavy hair and light brown skin looking at them with a mixture of annoyance and—no, it was mostly just annoyance.

“Raphael Santiago?” she said.

She recognized him from the Dark War, from pictures in history books about its heroes. Emma had always thought that Raphael, who had made his famous sacrifice to save Magnus Bane’s life, had an angelic face. The crown of curls, the cross scar at his throat, and the wide eyes in the child-round face were the same. She had not expected the sardonic expression overlaying all that.

“I know who you are,” Emma said.

He didn’t look impressed. “I know who you are too. You’re those Endarkened who always make a disgusting display of yourselves. I realize you are evil, but why can’t you be more discreet?” “That’s really not us,” said Julian. “Those are different people.”

“So you say,” said Raphael. “This is a stupid plan and you are all going to die. I see all the Angel’s gifts are truly gone, leaving only the Nephilim gift of remarkable short-sightedness. Out of the demonic frying pan, right back into the demonic frying pan.” “Are you saying we shouldn’t answer Tessa’s summons?” said Emma, who was starting to get annoyed.

“Raphael’s just in a bad mood,” said Livvy. She ruffled Raphael’s curly hair. “Aren’t you in a bad mood?” she cooed.

Raphael glared daggers at her. Livvy smiled.

“I didn’t say you should or shouldn’t do anything,” Raphael snapped. “Go ahead and look for Tessa. But you might want my help. You’re a lot more likely to make it across the city if you have transportation. But my help’s not for free.” “Annoyingly, everything he says is true,” Livvy admitted.

“Okay,” said Julian. “What do you want, vampire?”

“Information,” said Raphael. “In your world, is my city still standing? New York.” Julian nodded.

“Am I alive?” Raphael said.

“No,” said Emma. There didn’t seem to be any point in beating around the bush.

Raphael paused only for a moment. “Then who is the leader of the New York vampire clan there?” said Raphael.

“Lily Chen,” Emma said.

Raphael smiled, surprising her. It was a real smile, with real fondness in it. Emma felt herself soften. “In our world, you’re a hero. You sacrificed your life so Magnus could live,” she said.

Raphael looked horrified. “Tell me you’re not talking about Magnus Bane. Tell me you’re talking about a much cooler Magnus. I would never do that. If I did do that, I would never want anybody to talk about it. I cannot believe Magnus would shame me by talking about that.” Julian’s mouth twitched at the corner. “He named his child for you. Rafael Santiago Lightwood-Bane.” “That is revolting. So everybody knows? I am so embarrassed,” said Raphael. He looked at Diana. “Under a tarp in the garage are several of my motorcycles. Take two of them. Do not crash them or I will be very angry.” “Noted,” said Diana. “We’ll have them back by nightfall.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep, Raphael?” said Emma, suddenly struck. “You’re a vampire. It’s daytime.” Raphael smiled coldly. “Oh, little Shadowhunter,” he said. “Wait until you see the sun.” * * *

They found the motorcycles in the garage, as Raphael had said they would, and Divya opened the metal door so they could wheel the cycles onto the street. She closed it up quickly after them, and to the sound of the clanging and whirring of gears, Julian looked up and saw the sky.

His first thought was that he should step in front of Emma, protect her somehow from the ruins of the sun. His second was a fragmented memory of a piece of poetry his uncle had taught him. Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day.

The sun was a red-black cinder, glowing dully against a bank of streaky clouds. It cast an ugly light—a reddish-brown light, as if they were seeing the world through blood-tinted water. The air was thick and carried the taste of dirt and copper on it.

They were on what Julian guessed was West Broadway, the street much less crowded than it had been the night before. The occasional shadow slunk in and out of the gaps between buildings, and the convenience store offering blood milk shakes was, surprisingly, open. Something was sitting behind the counter, reading an old magazine, but it wasn’t shaped like a human being.

Trash blew up and down the mostly empty street, carried on the heated wind. This kind of weather came sometimes in Los Angeles, when the wind blew from the desert. Los Angelenos called them “devil winds” or “murder winds.” Maybe they came all the time in Thule.

“You ready?” said Diana, throwing one leg over her cycle and gesturing to the second one.

Julian had never ridden a motorcycle. He was willing to have a whack at it, but Emma had already climbed on. She zipped up the leather jacket she’d taken from the wardrobe and crooked a finger at Julian. “Mark showed me how to ride one of these,” she said. “Remember?” Julian remembered. He remembered how jealous of Mark he’d been too—Mark, who could flirt with Emma casually. Who could kiss her, embrace her, while Julian had to treat her like a bomb that would explode if he touched her. If they touched each other.

But not here, he reminded himself. This might be hell, but they weren’t parabatai here. He settled himself on the cycle behind Emma and slipped his arms around her waist. She had a Glock thrust through her belt, just like he did.

She reached down to brush her fingers across his clasped hands where they rested above her belt. He ducked his head and kissed the back of her neck.

She shivered.

“Enough, you guys,” Diana said. “Let’s go.”

She took off and Emma started up their own cycle, pulling in the clutch while holding down the start button. The engine revved with a loud noise and they were hurtling after Diana down the deserted street. Diana gunned her cycle toward a hill; Emma crouched down low, and Julian did the same. “Hold on,” Emma shouted into the wind, and their cycle lifted off the ground, angling into the air. The ground fell away below them, and they were soaring, Diana beside them. Julian couldn’t help thinking of the Wild Hunt, of flying through the air above a sleeping England, riding a path of wind and stars.

But this was different. From above, they could see the utter destruction of the city clearly. The sky was filled with wheeling dark figures—other airborne motorcycles, and demons abroad at daylight, protected by the dim sun and the thick cover of clouds. Fires burned at intervals, smoke swirling up from the Miracle Mile. The streets around Beverly Hills had been dammed up and flooded, forming a sort of moat around Bel Air, and as they soared over it, Julian gazed down into the churning water. A massive sea monster, hideous and humped, was pulling its way along the moat by its tentacles. It threw back its head and howled, and Julian glimpsed a black, yawning mouth, studded with teeth like a great white shark’s.

They soared over Wilshire, which had become a boulevard of horrors. Julian glimpsed a human musician dangling from puppet strings made of his own nerves and blood vessels, being forced to play a mandolin even as he screamed in agony. A demon lounged at a covered table where xylophones of human ribs were for sale, another—a massive one-eyed serpent—coiled around a “lemonade” stand where vampires stepped up for a wedge of lemon and a bite of a screaming, terrified human.

Julian closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, they were flying north over the highway by the sea. At least here it was mostly deserted, though they could see down into the ruins of the once-wealthy houses that had lined the shores of Malibu. They were overgrown now, their swimming pools empty or full of black water. Even the ocean looked different. In the dim daylight the water was black and churning, without fish or seaweed to be seen.

He felt Emma tense. Her words were torn away by the wind, but he caught enough of them to understand. “Julian—the Institute.” He glanced to the east. There it was, their Institute, glass and stone and steel, rising from the scrub grass of the Santa Monica Mountains. His heart lurched with yearning. It seemed so familiar, even under the red-orange hell glow of the dying sun.

But no—two flags flew from the Institute’s roof. One showed the star-in-circle symbol of Sebastian, and the other the family crest of the Ashdowns: an ash tree surrounded by leaves.

He was glad when Emma swung the cycle around and the Institute was no longer in view.

Diana was ahead of them, her cycle descending toward the beach. She landed with a few puffs of sand and turned to watch as Emma and Julian lurched down after her with considerable less grace. They hit the sand with enough force to snap Julian’s teeth sharply together.

“Ouch,” he said.

Emma swung around, her cheeks pink, her hair windblown. “You think you could do better?” “No,” he said, and kissed her cheek.

Her face turned a darker pink, and Diana made an exasperated noise. “You two are almost as bad as the Endarkened versions of yourselves. Now, come on—we have to hide these cycles.” As Julian rolled their cycle under a rock overhang, he realized he didn’t mind Diana’s teasing at all. He hadn’t minded Cameron’s teasing about the bed, either. It was all a reminder that here, he and Emma had a completely normal relationship—nothing secret, nothing forbidden. Nothing dangerous.

It was perhaps the only thing in Thule that was ordinary, but in this world without angels, it felt like a blessing.

“Well, here we are,” Diana said, once the cycles were hidden. “Looking for a cat on a beach.” “Church usually comes to us,” said Julian, glancing around. “It looks—almost ordinary here.” “I wouldn’t go in the water,” said Diana darkly. “But yeah, Sebastian seems to like the beach. Mostly he leaves it alone and uses it for ceremonies and executions.” Emma began to make cooing, clicking kitty-come-here noises.

“Don’t blame me if you summon a cat demon,” said Diana. She stretched, the joints in her wrists popping audibly. “A week to get back from Mexico City, and now this, two days after I get home,” she said, half to herself. “I really thought I might get a chance to rest. Silly me.” Emma whirled around. “Mexico City?” she demanded. “Did you—do you know if Cristina Mendoza Rosales is all right?” “Cristina Rosales? The Rose of Mexico?” Diana said, looking surprised. “Because of her, Mexico City is one of the few Shadowhunter strongholds left. I mean, there’s no angelic magic, but they patrol, they keep the demons down. The Rosales family are a resistance legend.” “I knew it,” Emma said. She wiped hastily at her damp face. “I knew it.”

“Are there other pockets? Places people are resisting?” Julian said.

“Livvy’s doing what she can here,” said Diana somewhat pointedly. “There’d be a lot more dead if not for her. We hear things about Jerusalem—Singapore—Sri Lanka. Oh, and Bangkok, which doesn’t surprise me. I know that city pretty well since I transitioned there.” Emma looked puzzled. “What do you mean, transitioned?”

“I’m transgender,” Diana said, puzzled. “You must know that if you knew me in your world.” “Right,” Julian said hastily. “We just didn’t know about the Bangkok thing.”

Diana looked even more puzzled. “But when I—” She broke off. “Is that what I think it is?” She pointed. Sitting on top of a nearby boulder was a cat. Not just any cat—an angry-looking blue Persian cat with an aggressively fluffed-out tail.

“Church!” Emma scooped him up in her arms, and Church did what he usually did. He went limp.

“Is that cat dead?” Diana demanded.

“No, he isn’t,” Emma cooed, and kissed his furry face. Church went limper. “He just hates affection.” Diana shook her head. She seemed completely unaffected by having told them something that in their world was a secret she had guarded. Guilt and annoyance with himself were rising inside Julian; he tried to shove them down. Now wasn’t the time, nor would it be right to burden this Diana with his feelings.

“I wuv you,” Emma said to Church. “I wuv you very much.”

Church wiggled out of her grasp and meowed. He padded toward Julian, meowed again, and then turned to frisk away along the beach.

“He wants us to follow him,” Julian said, clomping after Church. His enormous boots were a pain when it came to walking on sand. He heard Diana mutter something about how if she’d wanted to run around after deranged animals, she would have volunteered for the zoo patrol, but she headed after them anyway.

They trailed Church along the inner bluffs until they reached a path that led to a hole in the cliff face. Julian knew it well. When you grew up on the beach, you explored every rock, arch, cove, and cave. This one led to an impressive but empty cave, if he recalled correctly. He and Emma had once dragged a table in there and held meetings before they’d gotten bored with having a secret society with only two people in it.

Church scrambled up to the entrance of the cave and meowed loudly. There was a grinding sound like stone moving aside, and a figure stepped out of the shadows.

It was a man with dark hair, in long parchment robes. His cheeks were scarred, his eyes dark, full of wisdom and sorrow.

“Jem!” Emma screamed, and began to run up the path, her face shining with eagerness.

Jem held up his hand. His palms were scarred with runes, and Julian ached to see them—runes, in this runeless place. Insight. Quietude. Courage.

And then Jem began to change. Diana swore and yanked a pistol from her belt as a ripple went over Jem’s features and the parchment robes slid to the ground. His hair lightened and tumbled, long and waving, to the middle of his back; his eyes turned gray and long-lashed, his figure curved and feminine inside a plain gray dress.

Diana cocked the pistol. “Who are you?”

Emma had stopped in the middle of the path. She blinked back tears and said, “This is her. The Last Warlock. This is Tessa Gray.” * * *

Tessa had set the inside of the cave up as cozily as possible. There was a small fireplace, whose smoke went up a flue built into the rocks. The stone floor was brushed clean and dotted with carpets; there was a small sleeping annex and multiple chairs covered in cushions and soft pillows. There was even a little kitchen with a small range, a refrigerator humming along without being plugged into anything, and a wooden table already set with teacups and a loaf of warm sweet bread.

Realizing she hadn’t had breakfast, Emma wondered if it would be a faux pas to leap on the bread and devour it. Probably.

“Sit down and eat,” Tessa said, as if reading her mind. As they settled around the table, Church climbed into Emma’s lap, rolled onto his back, and promptly fell asleep with his feet in the air.

Diana tore off a hunk of the bread and stuffed it in her mouth. She closed her eyes in bliss. “Oh. My. God.” Emma decided that was her cue. For the next minute, she shut out the world around her and entered a blissful carb coma. The last time she’d eaten real food was in that clearing with Julian, and this was warm and home-cooked and felt like the taste of hope.

When she opened her eyes, she realized Julian hadn’t even taken a bite yet. He was looking at Tessa—that Julian look that seemed completely innocent but actually meant he was taking someone’s measure, assessing their weaknesses, and deciding if he trusted them.

It was pretty hot, actually. Emma sucked a piece of sugar off her thumb and tried not to smile to herself.

“You must be wondering who we are,” he said as Tessa poured their tea.

“No.” Tessa set the teapot down and took a seat, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders. “I know who you are. You are Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn, but not the ones from this world.” “You already know that?” said Diana in surprise.

“I see as a warlock sees,” said Tessa. “I know they do not belong here.” She indicated Julian and Emma. “And I have seen, a little, into other worlds—into their world in particular. It is closer to this one than we might like to think.” “What do you mean?” Julian said. “They seem pretty different to me.”

“There are stress points in history,” said Tessa. “Places where a great deal of chance is at play. Battles, peace treaties, marriages. That sort of thing. That’s where timelines are likely to split. Our two timelines split at the Battle of the Burren. In your world, the demon Lilith was too weak to render Sebastian Morgenstern much help. In Thule, another demon gave aid and strength to Lilith. She was able to kill Clary Fairchild, and that’s where our timelines split—only seven years ago.” “So this is what our world would be like without Clary,” said Emma, remembering all the times she’d heard people—mostly men—say that Clary wasn’t a hero, that she hadn’t done much that deserved to be praised, that she was selfish, even worthless, just a girl who’d been in the right places at the right times.

“Yes,” said Tessa. “Interesting, isn’t it? I gather that in your world, Jace Herondale is a hero. Here he is a monster second only to Sebastian.” “Doesn’t he even care that Sebastian let Lilith kill Clary?” demanded Emma. “Even when Jace was in thrall to Sebastian in our world, he loved Clary.” “Sebastian claims the death of Clary was not what he wanted,” said Tessa. “He says he murdered Lilith as revenge for her taking of Clary’s life.” “Not sure anyone believes that but Jace,” said Diana.

“He’s the only one who has to,” said Tessa. She ran her finger around the rim of her teacup. “I must apologize for testing you,” she said abruptly. “I appeared as Jem when you arrived because I knew that the real Emma Carstairs would be delighted to see him, while anyone aligned with Sebastian would be horrified at the sight of a Silent Brother.” “Jem . . . ?” Emma whispered. She knew what Livvy had said, that all the Brothers were gone, but still she had hoped.

Tessa didn’t look up. “He died in the attempt to seal the Silent City. It was successful, but he gave his life to hold off Sebastian’s Endarkened as the Brothers made their last stand to protect the Mortal Instruments.” “I’m sorry,” Julian said. Emma remembered Tessa and Jem in her own world, eyes only for each other.

Tessa cleared her throat. “Sebastian already has possession of the Mortal Mirror—Lake Lyn. It is surrounded by demons, ten thousand strong. None can go anywhere near it.” “Why is he guarding the lake so fiercely?” said Emma. “If no one can get to any of the Mortal Instruments—” “As the warlocks were sickening, we found that the water of Lake Lyn could neutralize the blight that was eating through our world. We raced there to collect the water. But by the time we arrived at the lake, Sebastian had surrounded it with countless demons.” Emma and Julian exchanged a look. “With the blight gone, would the warlocks have been cured?” “We believe so,” said Tessa. “We had a small amount of the water and used it to cure the blight around the Spiral Labyrinth. We even gave it to some warlocks, mixed with ordinary water, and they began to improve. But it simply wasn’t enough. The warlocks began to sicken and turn again. We could not save them.” Emma’s heart thumped. If the water of Lake Lyn had neutralized some of the blight here in Thule—if it had helped the warlocks, even as this world was turning to demonic poison all around them—surely the water of their own Lake Lyn, in their own world, might be a cure?

They needed to get home more desperately than ever. But first—

“We need your help,” Emma said. “That’s why we called on you.”

“I guessed that.” Tessa rested her chin in her hand. She looked young, no more than twenty, though Emma knew she was over a hundred. “Is it that you want to get back to your world?” “It’s not just that,” Julian said. “We need to get into the Silent City. We have to get to the Mortal Cup and the Mortal Sword before Sebastian does.” “And then what?” Tessa said.

“And then we destroy them so Sebastian can’t use them,” said Emma.

Tessa raised her eyebrows. “Destroy the Mortal Instruments? They’re very nearly indestructible.” Emma thought of the Mortal Sword shattering under Cortana’s blade. “If you open up a Portal back to our world, we can take them through with us. Sebastian will never be able to find them.” “If it was that simple,” Tessa said sharply, “I would have already opened a Portal, leaped through it, and taken the Cup and Sword with me. To open a Portal between worlds—that is complex, powerful magic, far beyond most warlocks. I can see into your world, but I cannot reach it.” “But you can get into the Silent City, right?” said Emma.

“I believe so, though I have not tried,” said Tessa. “I thought the Sword and the Cup were safe there. The Silent Brothers died to protect the Instruments and to remove them would have left them vulnerable to Sebastian. Yet now he is close to breaking the seal on the doors.” She frowned. “If you can truly bring the Instruments back to your world then they would be safer there. But without the knowledge that a Portal can be opened, there is another way to end the threat.” “What do you mean?” said Julian. “There’s nothing we could do with the Sword or Cup here, besides demonic magic.” “People used to say that the Mortal Sword could kill Sebastian,” said Diana, her gaze sharp. “But that’s not true, is it? I was at the last battle of Idris. I saw Isabelle Lightwood take up the Mortal Sword and deal Sebastian an incredible blow. He wasn’t even nicked. He struck her down instead.” “Ave atque vale, Isabelle Lightwood.” Tessa closed her eyes. “You have to understand. By then the invulnerability granted to Sebastian by Lilith had grown so strong no warrior of this earth could slay him. But there is something most do not know. Even Sebastian does not know it.” She opened her eyes. “He is tied to Thule, and Thule to him. A warrior of this world cannot slay him with the Sword. But the Silent Brothers knew that did not hold true for a warrior who was not of Thule. They locked the Sword away, hoping for a day when a warrior would arrive from Heaven and end Sebastian’s reign.” For a long moment, she gazed intently at Emma and Julian.

“We’re not from Heaven,” Emma said. “Despite what some bad pickup lines I’ve heard over the years might have you believe.” “Seems like Heaven compared to here,” said Diana.

“We can’t wait forever to be rescued by angels,” Tessa said. “This is a gift, you being here.” “Let’s be clear.” Julian took a bite of bread. His face was expressionless but Emma could read his eyes, knew the gears were whirling in his brain. “You’re asking us to kill Sebastian.” “I have to ask,” Tessa said. “I have to make Jem’s sacrifice mean something.”

“In our world,” Julian said, “the bond between Jace and Sebastian meant that killing Jace would destroy Sebastian, and the other way around as well. If we—” Tessa shook her head. “There was a point at which that was true here, when Sebastian believed it protected him from the Clave. There is no Clave now, nor does that aspect of their bond remain.” “I get it,” said Emma. “But with how far gone this world is—would just killing Sebastian make that much of a difference?” Tessa leaned back in her chair. “In your world, what happened when Sebastian died?” “It was the end of the Endarkened,” Emma said, though she had a feeling Tessa already knew that.

“That would give us a fighting chance,” Tessa said. “Sebastian can’t do everything himself. He leaves most of the dirty work to the Endarkened and the Forsworn.” She glanced at Diana. “I know you agree.” “Maybe,” Diana said. “But going after Sebastian seems like a suicide mission.”

“I wouldn’t ask if there were any other choices,” Tessa said quietly. She turned to Emma and Julian. “As you’ve requested, I will break the seal and open the Silent City for you. And I will do whatever I can to get you home. All I ask is that if you get a chance, an opening—you kill Sebastian.” Emma looked across the table at Julian. In his clear blue-green eyes she could see both his desire to agree to what Tessa was asking and his fear that it would put her, Emma, in danger.

“I know Thule isn’t your world, but it’s only a breath away,” Tessa said. “If I could save the Jem who lives in your world, I would. And now you have a chance to save your sister here.” In Tessa’s voice, Emma heard that she understood that the Livvy in their world was dead.

“She is safe in the Bradbury, but for how long? How safe are any of us? Any safety is temporary as long as Sebastian lives.” Ignoring Church’s indignant meow, Emma reached across the table and put her hand over Julian’s. Don’t fear for me, parabatai, she thought. This is a chance for both of us. For you to save Livvy as you could not in our world, and for me to avenge my parents, as I could not either.

“We’ll do it,” she said, and Julian’s eyes blazed like tinder set alight. “Of course we will. Just tell us what we have to do.” * * *

As they climbed onto the cycles, Diana warned them they’d be driving back on surface streets, not flying—the closer it got to nightfall, she said, the more full the skies were of demons. Even the vampires stayed out of the air after dark.

Emma was surprised to discover Diana had woken them up later in the day than she’d thought. The nuances of morning light, afternoon light, and evening light were lost here: There was only the dying sun and the blood moon. As their motorcycles raced along the Pacific Coast Highway, the moon rose sluggishly, barely illuminating the road ahead. Instead of sparkling on top of the waves, the moonlight turned the water an even more poisonous color—no longer Blackthorn blue-green, but ashy black.

Emma was glad for the warmth of Julian’s arms around her as they turned off the highway and onto Wilshire. To be this close to all that was ruined was painful. She knew these streets. She had been to this supermarket to pick up cereal for Tavvy: It was a ruin of smashed wood and broken beams now, where a few unsworn humans huddled around watch fires, their faces haggard with desperation and hunger. And there had been a candy store on this corner, where now a demon proprietor stood watch over rows of glass tanks in which drowned bodies floated. Every once in a while he would plunge a ladle into one of the tanks, pour some of the viscous water into a bowl, and sell it to a demonic passerby.

How long could Thule go on like this? Emma wondered as they rolled along the Miracle Mile. The tall office buildings here stood empty, their windows shattered. The streets were deserted. Humans were being hunted to extinction, and just like Raphael, she doubted Sebastian had another world full of fresh blood and meat up his sleeve. What happened when they were all gone? Did the demons turn on the Endarkened? On the vampires? Would they move on to another world, leaving Sebastian to rule over emptiness?

“Slow down,” Julian said in her ear, and she realized that while she’d been musing, they’d reached a crowded and well-lit section of street. “Checkpoint.” She swore silently and pulled in behind Diana. The area was buzzing—Endarkened wandered up and down the street, and the bars and restaurants here were basically intact, some of them lit up blue and green and acid yellow. Emma could even hear atonal, wailing music.

There were black-and-white barriers up in front of them, blocking the road. A two-legged lizard demon with a circle of black spider’s eyes ringing its scaled head loped out of a small booth and over to Diana.

“I’m not letting some demon lick me,” muttered Emma. “It’s not happening.”

“I’m pretty sure it was just licking Cameron to make sure his tattoo was real.”

“Sure,” said Emma. “That’s its story.”

Diana turned around on her bike and gave them a tight, artificial grin. Emma’s heart started to beat faster. She didn’t like the look of that smile.

The lizard demon loped toward them. It was massive, at least nine feet tall and half again as wide. It seemed to be wearing a police uniform, though Emma had no idea where it had gotten one that would fit.

“The boss has been looking for you all day,” it slurred. Emma guessed its mouth wasn’t really shaped for human speech. “Where you been?” “The boss?” Emma echoed.

Fortunately, the lizard was too stupid to be suspicious. “The Fallen Star,” it slurred. “Sebastian Morgenstern. He wants to talk to you both.”