Chapter 8
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She must have made some noise, because he twisted
around on the stool, blinking into the shadows. “Alec?”
he said. “Is that you?”
“It’s not Alec. It’s me.” She stepped farther into the
room. “ry.”
Piano keys jangled as he got to his feet. “Our own
Sleeping Beauty. Who finally kissed you awake?”
“Nobody. I woke up on my own.”
“Was there anyone with you?”
“Isabelle, but she went off to get someone—Hodge, I
think. She told me to wait, but—”
“I should have warned her about your habit of never
doing what you’re told.” Jace squinted at her. “Are those
Isabelle’s clothes? They look ridiculous on you.”
“I could point out that you burned my clothes.”
“It was purely precautionary.” He slid the gleaming ck
piano cover closed. “Come on, I’ll take you to Hodge.”
The Institute was huge, a vast cavernous space that
looked less like it had been designed ording to a
floor n and more like it had been naturally hollowed
out of rock by the passage of water and years. Through
half-open doors ry glimpsed countless identical small
rooms, each with a stripped bed, a nightstand, and a
large wooden wardrobe standing open. Pale arches of
stone held up the high ceilings, many of the arches
intricately carved with small figures. She noticed certain
repeating motifs: angels and swords, suns and roses.
“Why does this ce have so many bedrooms?” ry
asked. “I thought it was a research institute.”
“This is the residential wing. We’re pledged to offer
safety and lodging to any Shadowhunter who requests
it. We can house up to two hundred people here.”
“But most of these rooms are empty.”
“Peoplee and go. Nobody stays for long. Usually
it’s just us: Alec, Isabelle, Max, their parents—and me
and Hodge.”
“Max?”
“You met the beauteous Isabelle? Alec is her elder
brother. Max is the youngest, but he’s overseas with his
parents.”
“On vacation?”
“Not exactly.” Jace hesitated. “You can think of them as
—as foreign diplomats, and of this as an embassy, of
sorts. Right now they’re in the Shadowhunter home
country, working out some very delicate peace
negotiations. They brought Max with them because he’s
so young.”
“Shadowhunter home country?” ry’s head was
spinning. “What’s it called?”
“Idris.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“You wouldn’t have.” That irritating superiority was back
in his voice. “Mundanes don’t know about it. There are
wardings—protective spells—up all over the borders. If
you tried to cross into Idris, you’d simply find yourself
transported instantly from one border to the next. You’d
never know what happened.”
“So it’s not on any maps?”
“Not mundie ones. For our purposes you can consider it
a small country between Germany and France.”
“But there isn’t anything between Germany and France.
Except Switzend.”
“Precisely,” said Jace.
“I take it you’ve been there. To Idris, I mean.”
“I grew up there.” Jace’s voice was neutral, but
something in his tone let her know that more questions
in that direction would not be wee. “Most of us do.
There are, of course, Shadowhunters all over the world.
We have to be everywhere, because demonic activity is
everywhere. But to a Shadowhunter, Idris is always
‘home.’”
“Like Ma or Jerusalem,” said ry, thoughtfully. “So
most of you are brought up there, and then when you
grow up—”
“We’re sent where we’re needed,” said Jace shortly.
“And there are a few, like Isabelle and Alec, who grow
up away from the home country because that’s where
their parents are. With all the resources of the Institute
here, with Hodge’s training—” He broke off. “This is the
library.”
They had reached an arch-shaped set of wooden doors.
A blue Persian cat with yellow eyesy curled in front of
them. It raised its head as they approached and yowled.
“Hey, Church,” Jace said, stroking the cat’s back with a
bare foot. The cat slit its eyes in pleasure.
“Wait,” said ry. “Alec and Isabelle and Max—they’re
the only Shadowhunters your age that you know, that
you spend time with?”
Jace stopped stroking the cat. “Yes.”
“That must get kind of lonely.”
“I have everything I need.” He pushed the doors open.
After a moment’s hesitation she followed him inside.
The library was circr, with a ceiling that tapered to a
point, as if it had been built inside a tower. The walls
were lined with books, the shelves so high that tall
ladders set on casters were ced along them at
intervals. These were no ordinary books either—these
were books bound in leather and velvet, sped with
sturdy-looking locks and hinges made of brass and
silver. Their spines were studded with dully glowing
jewels and illuminated with gold script. They looked
worn in a way that made it clear that these books were
not just old but were well used, and had been loved.
The floor was polished wood, iid with chips of ss
and marble and bits of semiprecious stone. The iy
formed a pattern that ry couldn’t quite decipher—it
might have been the constetions, or even a map of
the world; she suspected she’d have to climb up into the
tower and look down in order to see it properly.
In the center of the room sat a magnificent desk. It was
carved from a single b of wood, a great, heavy piece
of oak that gleamed with the dull shine of years. The
b rested upon the backs of two angels, carved from
the same wood, their wings gilded and their faces
engraved with a look of suffering, as if the weight of the
b were breaking their backs. Behind the desk sat a
thin man with gray-streaked hair and a long beaky nose.
“A book lover, I see,” he said, smiling at ry. “You
didn’t tell me that, Jace.”
Jace chuckled. ry could tell that he hade up
behind her and was standing there with his hands in his
pockets, grinning that infuriating grin of his. “We haven’t
done much talking during our short acquaintance,” he
said. “I’m afraid our reading habits didn’te up.”
ry turned around and shot him a re.
“How can you tell?” she asked the man behind the desk.
“That I like books, I mean.”
“The look on your face when you walked in,” he said,
standing up anding around from behind the desk.
“Somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me.”
ry stifled a gasp as he rose. For a moment it seemed
to her that he was strangely misshapen, his left shoulder
humped and higher than the other. As he approached,
she saw that the hunch was actually a bird, perched
neatly on his shoulder—a glossy feathered creature with
bright ck eyes.
“This is Hugo,” the man said, touching the bird on his
shoulder. “Hugo is a raven, and, as such, he knows
many things. I, meanwhile, am Hodge Starkweather, a
professor of history, and, as such, I do not know nearly
enough.”
ryughed a little, despite herself, and shook his
outstretched hand. “ry Fray.”
“Honored to make your acquaintance,” he said. “I would
be honored to make the acquaintance of anyone who
could kill a Ravener with her bare hands.”
“It wasn’t my bare hands.” It still felt odd to be
congratted for killing something. “It was Jace’s—well,
I don’t remember what it was called, but—”
“She means my Sensor,” Jace said. “She shoved it
down the thing’s throat. The runes must have choked it.
I guess I’ll need another one,” he added, almost as an
afterthought. “I should have mentioned that.”
“There are several extra in the weapons room,” said
Hodge. When he smiled at ry, a thousand small lines
rayed out from around his eyes, like the cracks in an old
painting. “That was quick thinking. What gave you the
idea of using the Sensor as a weapon?”
Before she could reply, a sharpugh sounded through
the room. ry had been so enraptured by the books
and distracted by Hodge that she hadn’t seen Alec
sprawled in an overstuffed red armchair by the empty
firece. “I can’t believe you buy that story, Hodge,” he
said.
At first ry didn’t even register his words. She was too
busy staring at him. Like many only children, she was
fascinated by the resemnce between siblings, and
now, in the full light of day, she could see exactly how
much Alec looked like his sister. They had the same jet-? N?velDrama.Org - All rights reserved.
ck hair, the same slender eyebrows winging up at the
corners, the same pale, high-colored skin. But where
Isabelle was all arrogance, Alec slumped down in the
chair as if he hoped nobody would notice him. His
lashes were long and dark like Isabelle’s, but where her
eyes were ck, his were the dark blue of bottle ss.
They gazed at ry with a hostility as pure and
concentrated as acid.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Alec.” Hodge raised
an eyebrow. ry wondered how old he was; there was
a sort of agelessness to him, despite the gray in his hair.
He wore a neat gray tweed suit, perfectly pressed. He
would have looked like a kindly college professor if it
hadn’t been for the thick scar that drew up the right side
of his face. She wondered how he had gotten it. “Are
you suggesting that she didn’t kill that demon after all?”
“Of course she didn’t. Look at her—she’s a mundie,
Hodge, and a little kid, at that. There’s no way she took
on a Ravener.”
“I’m not a little kid,” ry interrupted. “I’m sixteen years
old—well, I will be on Sunday.”
“The same age as Isabelle,” Hodge said. “Would you
call her a child?”
“Isabelle hails from one of the greatest Shadowhunter
dynasties in history,” Alec said dryly. “This girl, on the
other hand, hails from New Jersey.”
“I’m from Brooklyn!” ry was outraged. “And so what?
I just killed a demon in my own house, and you’re going
to be a dickhead about it because I’m not some spoiled-
rotten rich brat like you and your sister?”
Alec looked astonished. “What did you call me?”
Jace sounded as if he could barely contain hisughter.
“She has a point, Alec. Plenty of Downworld activity
going on in the boroughs, you know. It’s those bridge-
and-tunnel demons you really have to watch out for—”
“It’s not funny, Jace,” Alec interrupted, starting to his
feet. “Are you just going to let her stand there and call
me names?”
“Yes,” Jace said kindly. “It’ll do you good—try to think of
it as endurance training.”
“We may be parabatai,” Alec said tightly. “But your
flippancy is wearing on my patience.”
“And your obstinacy is wearing on mine. When I found
her, she was lying on the floor in a pool of blood with a
dying demon practically on top of her. I watched as it
vanished. If she didn’t kill it, who did?”
“Raveners are stupid. Maybe it got itself in the neck with
its stinger. It’s happened before—”
“Now you’re suggesting itmitted suicide?”
Alec’s mouth tightened. “It isn’t right for her to be here.
Mundies aren’t allowed in the Institute, and there are
good reasons for that. If anyone knew about this, we
could be reported to the ve.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Hodge said. “The Law does
allow us to offer sanctuary to mundanes in certain
circumstances. A Ravener has already attacked ry’s
mother—she could well have been next.”
Attacked. ry wondered if this was a euphemism for
“murdered.” The raven on Hodge’s shoulder cawed
softly.
“Raveners are search-and-destroy machines,” Alec
said. “They act under orders from warlocks or powerful
demon lords. Now, what interest would a warlock or
demon lord have in an ordinary mundane household?”
His eyes when he looked at ry were bright with
dislike. “Any thoughts?”
ry said, “It must have been a mistake.”
“Demons don’t make those kinds of mistakes. If they
went after your mother, there must have been a reason.
If she were innocent—”
“What do you mean, ‘innocent’?” ry’s voice was
quiet.
Alec looked taken aback. “I—”
“What he means,” said Hodge, “is that it is extremely
unusual for a powerful demon, the kind who might
command a host of lesser demons, to interest himself in
the affairs of human beings. No mundane may summon
a demon—theyck that power—but there have been
some, desperate and foolish, who have found a witch or
warlock to do it for them.”
“My mother doesn’t know any warlocks. She doesn’t
believe in magic.” A thought urred to ry. “Madame
Dorothea—she lives downstairs—she’s a witch. Maybe
the demons were after her and got my mom by
mistake?”
Hodge’s eyebrows shot up into his hair. “A witch lives
downstairs from you?”
“She’s a hedge-witch—a fake,” Jace said. “I already
looked into it. There’s no reason for any warlock to be
interested in her unless he’s in the market for
nonfunctional crystal balls.”
“And we’re back where we began.” Hodge reached up
to stroke the bird on his shoulder. “It seems the time has
come to notify the ve.”
“No!” Jace said. “We can’t—”
“It made sense to keep ry’s presence here a secret
while we were not sure she would recover,” Hodge said.
“But now she has, and she is the first mundane to pass
through the doors of the Institute in over a hundred
years. You know the rules about mundane knowledge of
Shadowhunters, Jace. The ve must be informed.”
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