Lord of Shadows The Dark Artifices 2

It was old paper, worn almost to transparency. Kit blinked. On it was written his name—not his name, but his last name, Herondale, over and over, entwined with another name, so that the two words formed looping patterns.

The other word was Blackthorn.

A deep sense of unease shot through him. He tucked the paper quickly into his jeans pocket just as Ty said, “Move, Kit. I want to get a closer look at that bust.”

To Kit, bust only meant one thing, but since the only breasts in the room belonged to Ty’s sister, he stepped aside with alacrity. Ty strode over to the small statue on the marble column. He’d pulled his hood down, and his hair stood up around his head, soft as the downy feathers of a black swan.

Ty touched a small placard below the carving. “ ‘The difficulty is not so great to die for a friend, as to find a friend worth dying for,’ ” he said.

“Homer,” said Livvy. Whatever kind of education the Shadowhunters got, Kit had to admit, it was thorough.

“Apparently,” said Ty, pulling a dagger out of his belt. A second later he’d driven the blade into the carved eye socket of the statue. Livvy yelped.

“Ty, what—?”

Her brother yanked the blade back out and repeated the action on the statue’s second eye socket. This time something round and glimmering popped out of the hole in the plaster with an audible crack. Ty caught it in his left hand.

He grinned, and the grin changed his face completely. Ty when he was still and expressionless had an intensity that fascinated Kit; when he was smiling, he was extraordinary.

“What did you find?” Livvy darted across the room and they gathered around Tiberius, who was holding out a many-faceted crystal, the size of a child’s hand. “And how’d you know it was in there?”

“When you said Homer’s name,” said Ty, “I recalled that he was blind. He’s almost always depicted with his eyes shut or with a cloth blindfold. But this statue had open eyes. I looked a little closer and saw that the bust was marble but the eyes were plaster. After that, it was . . .”

“Elementary?” said Kit.

“You know, Holmes never says, ‘Elementary, my dear Watson,’ in the books,” said Ty.

“I swear I’ve seen it in the movies,” Kit said. “Or maybe on TV.”

“Who would ever want movies or TV when there are books?” said Ty with disdain.

“Could someone here pay attention?” Livvy demanded, her ponytail swinging in exasperation. “What is that thing you found, Ty?”

“An aletheia crystal.” He held it up so that it caught the glow of his sister’s witchlight. “Look.”

Kit glanced at the faceted surface of the stone. To his surprise, a face flashed across it, like an image seen in a dream—a woman’s face, clouded around with long dark hair.

“Oh!” Livvy clapped her hand over her mouth. “She looks a little like me. But how—?”

“An aletheia crystal is a way of capturing or transporting memories. I think this one is of Annabel,” said Ty.

“Aletheia is Greek,” Livvy said.

“She was the Greek goddess of truth,” said Kit. He shrugged when they stared at him. “Ninth-grade book report.”

Ty’s mouth crooked at the corner. “Very good, Watson.”

“Don’t call me Watson,” said Kit.

Ty ignored this. “We need to figure out how to access what’s trapped in this crystal,” he said. “As quickly as possible. It could help Julian and Emma.”

“You don’t know how to get into it?” Kit asked.

Ty shook his head, clearly disgruntled. “It’s not Shadowhunter magic. We don’t learn other kinds. It’s forbidden.”

This struck Kit as a stupid rule. How were you ever supposed to know how your enemies operated if you made it forbidden to learn about them?

“We should go,” Livvy said, hovering in the doorway. “It’s starting to get dark. Demon time.”

Kit glanced toward the window. The sky was darkening, the stain of twilight spreading across the blue. The shadows were coming down over London.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Why don’t we take it to the Shadow Market here? I know my way around the Market. I can find a warlock or even a witch to help us get at whatever’s in this thing.”

The twins glanced at each other. Both were clearly hesitant. “We’re not really supposed to go to Shadow Markets,” said Livvy.

“So tell them I ran off there and you had to catch me,” said Kit. “If you even ever have to explain, which you won’t.”

Neither of them spoke, but Kit could see curiosity in Ty’s gray eyes.

“Come on,” he said, pitching his voice low, the way his father had taught him, the tone you used when you wanted to convince people you really meant something. “When you’re home, Julian never lets you go anywhere. Now’s your chance. Haven’t you always wanted to see a Shadow Market?”

Livvy broke first. “Okay,” she said, casting a quick look at her brother to see if he agreed with her. “Okay, if you know where it is.”

Ty’s pale face lit with excitement. Kit felt the same spark transfer to him. The Shadow Market. His home, his sanctuary, the place he’d been raised.