Lord of Shadows The Dark Artifices 2

They unrolled the blankets they had and spread out coats, huddling under them for warmth. Mark curled up and immediately fell asleep. Cristina lay down more cautiously, her body wrapped in her dark blue coat, her long hair spilling over the arm on which her head rested.

Emma found a place for herself in the grass, folding her gear jacket up to make a pillow. She had nothing to wrap herself in, and shivered when her skin touched the cold ground as she reached to balance Cortana carefully on a nearby stone.

“Emma.” It was Julian, rolling over toward her. He’d been so still she’d thought he was asleep. She didn’t even remember lying down this close to him. In the dawn light, his eyes glowed like sea glass. “I’ve got a spare blanket. Take it.”

It was soft and gray, a thin coverlet that used to lie across the foot of his bed. Forcibly, Emma pushed away memories of waking up with it bunched around her feet, yawning and stretching in the sunlight of Julian’s room.

“Thanks,” she whispered, sliding under the blanket. The grass was dampening with dew. Julian was still watching her, his head resting on his curved arm.

“Jules,” Emma whispered. “If our witchlight doesn’t work here, and seraph blades don’t work here, and runes don’t work here—what does that mean?”

He sounded weary. “When I looked into an inn, in one of the towns we passed, I saw an angelic rune someone had scrawled on a wall. It was splattered in blood—scratched and defaced. I don’t know what’s happened here since the Cold Peace, but I know they hate us.”

“Do you think Cristina’s pendant will still work?” Emma said.

“I think it’s just Shadowhunter magic that’s blocked here,” Julian said. “Cristina’s pendant was a faerie gift. It should be all right.”

Emma nodded. “Good night, Jules,” she whispered.

He smiled faintly. “It’s morning, Emma.”

She didn’t say anything, only closed her eyes—but not all the way, so she could still see him. She hadn’t slept near him since that terrible day Jem had told her about parabatai and their curse, and she didn’t realize how much she had missed it. She was exhausted, her tiredness seeping out of her bones and into the ground beneath her as her aching body relaxed; she had forgotten what it was like to let consciousness go slowly, as the person she trusted most in the world lay beside her. Even here in Faerie, where Shadowhunters were hated, she felt safer than she had in her own bedroom alone, because Jules was there, so close that if she’d reached out, she could have touched him.

She couldn’t reach out, of course. Couldn’t touch him. But they were breathing close together, breathing the same breath as consciousness fragmented, as Emma let go of wakefulness and fell, the image of Julian in the dawn light following her down into dreams.

9

T

HESE

L

ANDS

Kit soon had a new item to add to his list of things he didn’t like about Shadowhunters. They wake me up in the middle of the night.

It was Livvy who woke him up specifically, shaking him out of a dream of Mantid demons. He sat up, gasping, a knife in his hand—one of the daggers he’d taken from the weapons room. It had been on his nightstand and he had no recollection of picking it up.

“Not bad,” Livvy said. She was hovering over his bed, her hair tied back, her gear half-invisible in the darkness. “Fast reflexes.”

The knife was about an inch from her chest, but she didn’t move. Kit let it clatter back to the nightstand. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Get up,” she said. “Ty just saw Zara sneak out the front door. We’re Tracking her.”

“You’re what?” Kit got yawning out of bed, only to be handed a pile of dark clothes by Livvy. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of his boxers but made no other comment.

“Put your gear on,” she said. “We’ll explain on the way.”

She headed out of the room, leaving Kit to change. He had always wondered what Shadowhunter gear would feel like. The boots, pants, shirt, and jacket of sturdy, dark material and heavy weapons belt looked uncomfortable, but—they weren’t. The gear was light and flexible on, despite being so tough that when he took the dagger from his bedside and tried to cut the arm of the jacket, the blade didn’t even part the material. The boots seemed to fit immediately, like the ring, and the weapons belt sat light and snug around his hips.

“Do I look all right?” he asked, appearing in the hall. Ty was gazing thoughtfully at his closed right hand, a rune glimmering on the back of it.

Livvy gave Kit a thumbs-up. “You absolutely could have been rejected from the yearly Hot Shadowhunters Calendar.”

“Rejected?” Kit demanded as they started downstairs.

Her eyes were dancing. “For being too young, of course.”

“There is no Hot Shadowhunters Calendar,” said Ty. “Both of you be quiet; we need to get out of the house without being spotted.”