Lord of Shadows The Dark Artifices 2

“Julian.” The voice was Diana’s; she was standing at the top of the attic stairs, looking around the room as if the brightness of the light surprised her. Her expression was resigned. “He means Julian.”

10

S

O

W

ILLS

I

TS

K

ING

They were in Diana’s office. Through the window, the ocean looked like rippled aluminum, illuminated by black light.

“I’m sorry you had to learn this about your uncle,” said Diana. She was leaning back against her desk. She wore jeans and a sweater but still looked immaculate. Her hair was swept back into a mass of curls clipped by a leather barrette. “I had hoped—Julian had hoped—that you’d never know.”

Kit was leaning against the far wall; Ty and Livvy sat on Diana’s desk. Both of them looked stunned, as if they were recovering from having the wind knocked out of them. Kit had never been more conscious that they were twins, despite the difference in their coloring.

“So all these years it’s been Julian,” said Livvy. “Running the Institute. Doing everything. Covering up for Arthur.”

Kit thought of his drive with Julian to the Shadow Market. He hadn’t spent that much time with the second-oldest Blackthorn boy, but Julian had always seemed terrifyingly adult to him, as if he were years older than his calendar age.

“We should have guessed.” Ty’s hand twisted and untwisted the slim white cords of the headphones looped around his neck. “I should have figured it out.”

“We don’t see the things that are closest to us,” said Diana. “It’s the nature of people.”

“But Jules,” Livvy whispered. “He was only twelve. It must have been so hard on him.”

Her face shone. For a moment, Kit thought it was reflected light from the windows. Then he realized—it was tears.

“He always loved you so much,” said Diana. “It was what he wanted to do.”

“We need him here,” said Ty. “We need him here now.”

“I should go,” Kit said. He had never felt so uncomfortable. Well, maybe not never—there had been the incident with the five drunk werewolves and the cage of newts at the Shadow Market—but rarely.

Livvy looked up, her tearstained face baleful. “No, you shouldn’t. You need to stay here and help us explain to Diana about Zara.”

“I didn’t understand half of what she said,” Kit protested. “About Institute heads, and registries—”

Ty took a deep breath. “I’ll explain,” he said. The recitation of what had happened seemed to calm him down: the regular march of facts, one after another. When he was done, Diana crossed the room and double-locked the door.

“Do either of the rest of you remember anything else?” Diana asked, turning back to them.

“One thing,” said Kit, surprised he actually had something to contribute. “Zara said the next Council meeting was going to be soon.”

“I assume that’s the one where they tell everyone about Arthur,” said Livvy. “And make their play for the Institute.”

“The Cohort is a powerful faction inside the Clave,” said Diana. “They’re a nasty bunch. They believe in interrogating any Downworlders they find breaking the Accords with torture. They support the Cold Peace unconditionally. If I’d known Zara’s father was one of them . . .” She shook her head.

“Zara can’t have the Institute,” said Livvy. “She can’t. This is our home.”

“She doesn’t care about the Institute,” said Kit. “She and her father want the power it can give.” He thought of the Downworlders he knew at the Shadow Market, thought of them rounded up, forced to wear some kind of signs, branded or stamped with identification numbers . . . .

“The Cohort has the upper hand, though,” said Livvy. “She knows about Arthur, and we can’t afford to have anyone find out. She’s right: They’ll hand the Institute over to someone else.”

“Is there anything you know about the Dearborns, or the Cohort? Something that might discredit them?” said Kit. “Keep them from getting the Institute if it was up for grabs?”

“But we’d still lose the Institute,” said Ty.

“Yeah,” said Kit. “But they wouldn’t be able to start registering Downworlders. Maybe it doesn’t sound that harmful, but it never stops there. Zara clearly doesn’t care if Downworlders live or die—once she knows where they all are, once they have to report to her, the Cohort has power over them.” He sighed. “You should really read some mundane history books.”

“Maybe we could threaten her by saying we’ll tell Diego,” said Livvy. “He doesn’t know, and—I know he was a jerk to Cristina, but I can’t believe he’d be okay with all this. If he knew, he’d dump Zara, and she doesn’t want that.”

Diana frowned. “It’s not our strongest position, but it is something.” She turned to her desk, picked up a pen and notepad. “I’m going to write to Alec and Magnus. They head up the Downworlder-Shadowhunter Alliance. If anyone knows about the Cohort, or any tricks we can use to defeat them, they will.”

“And if they don’t?”

“We try Diego,” said Diana. “I wish I believed I could trust him more than I do, but—” She sighed. “I like him. But I liked Manuel, too. People are not what they seem.”