Queen of Air and Darkness
Page 165
Spoken like the daughter of the Consul. “But Emma and Julian would never—they wouldn’t—” Helen protested.
“We don’t know what they’d do,” Aline said gently, just as Hypatia Vex and Kwasi Bediako rushed past them. They raced toward the trampled grass where Emma and Julian stood, and Kwasi flung out his hands as Hypatia placed her palms on his shoulders. A shimmering golden net burst into the air over Emma and Jules: It settled on them like a fine spiderweb, but Helen sensed it was made of something much stronger.
Emma put up a great, shining hand to push against the net. It held fast. Kwasi was breathing fast, but Hypatia steadied him.
A cry broke from Martin Gladstone. “Do it now! Round up the Blackthorns! Show those monsters what will happen to their families if they don’t stop!”
The Cohort sent up a cheer. Helen could hear Zara screaming that they should do it, that they had a right to protect themselves.
Aline stepped in front of Helen. “That bastard!” She glowered.
Julian hooked his fingers into the material of the shining net and tore it apart. It fell away, and Julian reached down to seize Gladstone.
With a flick of his fingers, he snapped Gladstone’s neck.
Julian and Emma moved toward the other Cohort members, who began to scatter. Emma reached for Zara—
And Jace slid between them, between Emma’s shimmering hand and Zara’s fleeing figure. The Mortal Sword was sheathed on his back; he was weaponless. He tossed back his golden head and called out, “Stop! Emma and Julian! The battle is over! Stop!”
Expressionless as a statue of an avenging angel, Emma reached down and swept Jace out of the way. He was thrown several yards and hit the ground with an ugly thud. Clary screamed and went flying across the grass, racing toward Jace with her red hair trailing behind her like fire.
Get up, get up, Helen thought. Get up, Jace.
But he didn’t.
* * *
Dru had never used the Familias rune before, and the experience was a strange one.
She felt herself tugged toward her siblings in a way she couldn’t define. It felt like something was tied around the inside of her spine—which was gross but interesting—and was pulling her toward a destination. She’d heard the way Tracking runes felt described to her, and she suspected this wasn’t dissimilar.
She let the tugging pull her, running along after it with her hand clasped firmly around Tavvy’s wrist. They kept to the edges of the battlefield, Jaime beside them with his crossbow trained on anyone who might approach.
They left the shelter of the city walls and struck out for the edge of the forest, still following the pull of the rune. She tried not to look over at the field, at Emma and Julian. It was like looking at pillars of fire one moment, at terrible monsters the next.
There was a rustling overhead, and Ty dropped down out of an oak tree. Dru gave a little gasp of surprise, and then another one as Ty walked straight toward her and hugged her tightly.
He let her go and frowned. “Why are you on the field? You should be in the city. Tavvy, too.” He turned to Jaime. “It’s dangerous.”
“Yes,” said Jaime. “I am aware of that.”
“You’re out here,” Dru pointed out.
“I was up a tree,” Ty said, as if that made it better somehow. Before Dru could get into a really enjoyable sibling argument about it, Helen had come rushing up, her pale blond curls fluttering. Aline was just on her heels.
“Dru! Tavvy!” Helen darted tearfully toward the two of them, reaching to pick Tavvy up; Dru noticed that he held his arms out to her automatically, something he only really had ever done for Julian before. Helen lifted him up and squeezed him, hard. “What are you two doing here? Dru, did you use the Familias rune on purpose?”
“Of course I did!” Dru said. “We have to get out there on the field. We have to stop Emma and Jules. We have to get them back—back to themselves.”
“We’ve been trying,” Helen said as she set Tavvy down. “Don’t you think we’ve been trying?”
Dru wanted to grind her teeth together. Why didn’t Helen listen? She’d thought things were better, but she needed her sister to hear her so badly she could feel it like a lump in her throat.
She knew what they had to do. It seemed so clear. How could she make the rest of them see it?
She felt a twinge in her arm, where the rune was, and then Mark was there, racing up with Cristina at his side. “Dru! You called us—” He saw Ty and smiled delightedly. “I was watching you with your slingshot,” he said. “Your aim is true, little brother.”
“Don’t encourage him, Mark,” said Helen. “He was supposed to stay back at camp.”
“Look,” Dru said. “I know it doesn’t make much sense. But if we all go up to Emma and Jules together, if we go right up to them and talk to them, we can get through. We have to try. If we can’t do it, no one can, and then everyone is in danger.”
Helen shook her head. “But why is this happening?”
Cristina and Mark exchanged a glance that Dru couldn’t decipher. “I think it is because of the parabatai bond,” Cristina said.
“Because Emma almost died?” Aline said, bewildered.
“I do not know,” Cristina said. “I can only guess. But there is heavenly fire burning inside them. And no mortal being can survive that for very long.”
“It’s too dangerous for us to approach them,” Mark said. “We have to trust Emma and Julian. Trust that they can end this on their own.”
There was a long pause. Jaime watched impassively as the Blackthorns and their extended family stood in the stillness of an intense silence.
“No,” Helen said finally, and Dru’s heart sank. Helen raised her eyes, blazing Blackthorn blue in her grime-streaked face. “Dru is right. We have to go.” She looked at Dru. “You’re right, my love.”
“I will walk with you to the field,” Jaime said to Dru.
She was glad for his company as they all set out, Blackthorns together. But it wasn’t Jaime she was thinking about as they turned to walk toward the heart of the battle. It was her sister. Helen believed me. Helen understood.
In the midst of the darkness of battle, her heart felt a tiny bit lighter.
Jaime suddenly jerked upright. “Diego,” he said, and then a torrent of Spanish. Dru and Helen whipped around, and Dru sucked in her breath.
Not far away, a redcap was dragging Diego’s limp body across the field. At least, Dru guessed it was Diego: His clothes were familiar, and his mop of dark hair. But his face was obscured entirely by blood.
Helen touched Jaime’s shoulder. “Go to your brother,” she said. “Quickly. We’ll be fine.”
Jaime took off running.
* * *
Jace was awake. He had been blinking and starting to sit up when Clary reached him, and she’d been torn between throwing herself into his arms and smacking him for terrifying her.
She was drawing an iratze on his arm. It seemed to be doing its work—the long bloody scratch along the side of his face had already healed. He was half-sitting up, leaning against her to catch his breath, when Alec came running up and knelt down beside them.
“Are you all right, parabatai?” Alec said, looking anxiously into Jace’s face.
“Please promise you’ll never do that again,” Clary said.
“I promise that I will never stand between Zara Dearborn and a marauding giant again,” said Jace. “Alec, what’s happening? You’ve been out on the field—”
“Julian and Emma just tossed Vanessa Ashdown about twenty feet,” said Alec. “I think they’re angry that she stabbed Cameron, though why, I couldn’t tell you.”
Clary looked over at Emma and Julian. They stood very still, looking down at the Cohort, as if choosing what to do with them. Every once in a while a Cohort member would break free and run, and Emma or Julian would move to pen them back in again.
It was almost like a game, but angels did not play. Clary couldn’t help but remember the sight of Raziel, rising from Lake Lyn. Not many people had looked at an angel. Not many people had stared into the cold eyes of Heaven, with its indifference to petty mortal concerns. Did Emma and Julian feel a fraction of that indifference, that unconcern that was not cruelty but something stranger and altogether bigger—something not human at all?
“We don’t know what they’d do,” Aline said gently, just as Hypatia Vex and Kwasi Bediako rushed past them. They raced toward the trampled grass where Emma and Julian stood, and Kwasi flung out his hands as Hypatia placed her palms on his shoulders. A shimmering golden net burst into the air over Emma and Jules: It settled on them like a fine spiderweb, but Helen sensed it was made of something much stronger.
Emma put up a great, shining hand to push against the net. It held fast. Kwasi was breathing fast, but Hypatia steadied him.
A cry broke from Martin Gladstone. “Do it now! Round up the Blackthorns! Show those monsters what will happen to their families if they don’t stop!”
The Cohort sent up a cheer. Helen could hear Zara screaming that they should do it, that they had a right to protect themselves.
Aline stepped in front of Helen. “That bastard!” She glowered.
Julian hooked his fingers into the material of the shining net and tore it apart. It fell away, and Julian reached down to seize Gladstone.
With a flick of his fingers, he snapped Gladstone’s neck.
Julian and Emma moved toward the other Cohort members, who began to scatter. Emma reached for Zara—
And Jace slid between them, between Emma’s shimmering hand and Zara’s fleeing figure. The Mortal Sword was sheathed on his back; he was weaponless. He tossed back his golden head and called out, “Stop! Emma and Julian! The battle is over! Stop!”
Expressionless as a statue of an avenging angel, Emma reached down and swept Jace out of the way. He was thrown several yards and hit the ground with an ugly thud. Clary screamed and went flying across the grass, racing toward Jace with her red hair trailing behind her like fire.
Get up, get up, Helen thought. Get up, Jace.
But he didn’t.
* * *
Dru had never used the Familias rune before, and the experience was a strange one.
She felt herself tugged toward her siblings in a way she couldn’t define. It felt like something was tied around the inside of her spine—which was gross but interesting—and was pulling her toward a destination. She’d heard the way Tracking runes felt described to her, and she suspected this wasn’t dissimilar.
She let the tugging pull her, running along after it with her hand clasped firmly around Tavvy’s wrist. They kept to the edges of the battlefield, Jaime beside them with his crossbow trained on anyone who might approach.
They left the shelter of the city walls and struck out for the edge of the forest, still following the pull of the rune. She tried not to look over at the field, at Emma and Julian. It was like looking at pillars of fire one moment, at terrible monsters the next.
There was a rustling overhead, and Ty dropped down out of an oak tree. Dru gave a little gasp of surprise, and then another one as Ty walked straight toward her and hugged her tightly.
He let her go and frowned. “Why are you on the field? You should be in the city. Tavvy, too.” He turned to Jaime. “It’s dangerous.”
“Yes,” said Jaime. “I am aware of that.”
“You’re out here,” Dru pointed out.
“I was up a tree,” Ty said, as if that made it better somehow. Before Dru could get into a really enjoyable sibling argument about it, Helen had come rushing up, her pale blond curls fluttering. Aline was just on her heels.
“Dru! Tavvy!” Helen darted tearfully toward the two of them, reaching to pick Tavvy up; Dru noticed that he held his arms out to her automatically, something he only really had ever done for Julian before. Helen lifted him up and squeezed him, hard. “What are you two doing here? Dru, did you use the Familias rune on purpose?”
“Of course I did!” Dru said. “We have to get out there on the field. We have to stop Emma and Jules. We have to get them back—back to themselves.”
“We’ve been trying,” Helen said as she set Tavvy down. “Don’t you think we’ve been trying?”
Dru wanted to grind her teeth together. Why didn’t Helen listen? She’d thought things were better, but she needed her sister to hear her so badly she could feel it like a lump in her throat.
She knew what they had to do. It seemed so clear. How could she make the rest of them see it?
She felt a twinge in her arm, where the rune was, and then Mark was there, racing up with Cristina at his side. “Dru! You called us—” He saw Ty and smiled delightedly. “I was watching you with your slingshot,” he said. “Your aim is true, little brother.”
“Don’t encourage him, Mark,” said Helen. “He was supposed to stay back at camp.”
“Look,” Dru said. “I know it doesn’t make much sense. But if we all go up to Emma and Jules together, if we go right up to them and talk to them, we can get through. We have to try. If we can’t do it, no one can, and then everyone is in danger.”
Helen shook her head. “But why is this happening?”
Cristina and Mark exchanged a glance that Dru couldn’t decipher. “I think it is because of the parabatai bond,” Cristina said.
“Because Emma almost died?” Aline said, bewildered.
“I do not know,” Cristina said. “I can only guess. But there is heavenly fire burning inside them. And no mortal being can survive that for very long.”
“It’s too dangerous for us to approach them,” Mark said. “We have to trust Emma and Julian. Trust that they can end this on their own.”
There was a long pause. Jaime watched impassively as the Blackthorns and their extended family stood in the stillness of an intense silence.
“No,” Helen said finally, and Dru’s heart sank. Helen raised her eyes, blazing Blackthorn blue in her grime-streaked face. “Dru is right. We have to go.” She looked at Dru. “You’re right, my love.”
“I will walk with you to the field,” Jaime said to Dru.
She was glad for his company as they all set out, Blackthorns together. But it wasn’t Jaime she was thinking about as they turned to walk toward the heart of the battle. It was her sister. Helen believed me. Helen understood.
In the midst of the darkness of battle, her heart felt a tiny bit lighter.
Jaime suddenly jerked upright. “Diego,” he said, and then a torrent of Spanish. Dru and Helen whipped around, and Dru sucked in her breath.
Not far away, a redcap was dragging Diego’s limp body across the field. At least, Dru guessed it was Diego: His clothes were familiar, and his mop of dark hair. But his face was obscured entirely by blood.
Helen touched Jaime’s shoulder. “Go to your brother,” she said. “Quickly. We’ll be fine.”
Jaime took off running.
* * *
Jace was awake. He had been blinking and starting to sit up when Clary reached him, and she’d been torn between throwing herself into his arms and smacking him for terrifying her.
She was drawing an iratze on his arm. It seemed to be doing its work—the long bloody scratch along the side of his face had already healed. He was half-sitting up, leaning against her to catch his breath, when Alec came running up and knelt down beside them.
“Are you all right, parabatai?” Alec said, looking anxiously into Jace’s face.
“Please promise you’ll never do that again,” Clary said.
“I promise that I will never stand between Zara Dearborn and a marauding giant again,” said Jace. “Alec, what’s happening? You’ve been out on the field—”
“Julian and Emma just tossed Vanessa Ashdown about twenty feet,” said Alec. “I think they’re angry that she stabbed Cameron, though why, I couldn’t tell you.”
Clary looked over at Emma and Julian. They stood very still, looking down at the Cohort, as if choosing what to do with them. Every once in a while a Cohort member would break free and run, and Emma or Julian would move to pen them back in again.
It was almost like a game, but angels did not play. Clary couldn’t help but remember the sight of Raziel, rising from Lake Lyn. Not many people had looked at an angel. Not many people had stared into the cold eyes of Heaven, with its indifference to petty mortal concerns. Did Emma and Julian feel a fraction of that indifference, that unconcern that was not cruelty but something stranger and altogether bigger—something not human at all?
