Queen of Air and Darkness
Page 167
Neither Emma nor Julian moved or changed expression. Dru plowed on, her cheeks burning.
“Don’t leave us,” she said. “Who will watch bad horror movies with me, Julian, if you’re gone? Who will train with me, Emma, and show me everything I’m doing wrong, and how to be better?”
Something shifted behind Dru. Helen had come to stand beside her. She reached her hands out as if she could touch the shining figures before her. “Julian,” she said. “You raised our brothers and sisters when I could not. You sacrificed your childhood to keep our family together. And Emma. You guarded this family when I could not. If you both leave me now, how will I ever get the chance to make it up to you?”
Julian and Emma were still expressionless, but Emma tilted her head slightly, almost as if she was listening.
Mark came forward, laying his slim hand on Dru’s shoulder. He craned his head back. “Julian,” he called. “You showed me how to be part of a family again. Emma, you showed me how to be a friend when I had forgotten friendship. You gave me hope when I was lost.” He stood straight as an elf-bolt, gazing into the sky. “Come back to us.”
Julian shifted. It was a minute movement, but Dru felt her heart leap. Maybe—maybe—
Ty stepped forward, his gear dusty and ripped where bark had torn it. His black hair fell in dark strands across his face. He pushed it away and said, “We lost Livvy. We—we lost her.”
Tears stung the backs of Dru’s eyes. There was something about the tone of Ty’s voice that made it sound as if this were the first time he had realized the finality and irrevocability of Livvy’s death.
Ty’s eyelashes shimmered with tears as he raised his gaze. “We can’t lose you, too. We will be—we will wind up broken. Julian, you taught me what every word I didn’t understand meant—and Emma, you chased off anybody who was ever mean to me. Who will teach me and protect me if you don’t go back to being yourselves?”
There was a great and thundering crash. Julian had fallen to his knees. Dru covered a gasp—he seemed smaller than he had, though still enormous. She could see the black fissures in his glowing skin where red sparks of fire leaked out like blood.
There is heavenly fire burning inside them. And no mortal being can survive that for very long.
“Emma,” Dru whispered. “Julian.”
They weren’t expressionless anymore. Dru had seen statues of mourning angels, of angels thrust through with fiery swords, weeping tears of agony. It was not easy to wield a sword for God.
She could see those statues again in the looks on their faces.
“Emma!” The cry burst from Cristina; she had broken away from the others and come running toward the Blackthorns. “Emma! Who will be my best friend if you’re not my best friend, Emma?” She was crying, tears mixing with the blood and dirt on her face. “Who will take care of my best friend when I cannot, Julian, if you are not there?”
Emma fell to her knees beside Julian. They were both weeping—tears of fire, red and gold. Dru hoped desperately that it meant that they felt something, and not that they were dying, coming apart in twin blazes of fire.
“Who will drive me crazy with questions in the classroom if not you?” called Diana. She was coming toward them as well, and so were Kieran and Aline, leaving Gwyn holding Windspear’s bridle, his face reflecting awe and wonder.
Aline cleared her throat. “Emma and Julian,” she said. “I don’t know you that well, and this giant thing is admittedly a huge surprise. That wasn’t a pun. I was being literal.” She glanced sideways at Helen. “But being around you makes my wife really happy, and that’s because she loves you both.” She paused. “I also like you, and we’re going to be a family, dammit, so come down here and be in this family!”
Helen patted Aline’s shoulder. “That was good, honey.”
“Julian,” Kieran said. “I could speak of the way Mark loves you, and Emma, I could speak of the friendship Cristina bears you. But the truth is that I have to be King of the Unseelie Court, and without your brilliance, Julian, and your bravery, Emma, I fear my reign will be brief.”
In the distance, Dru could see Isabelle and Simon approaching. Alec was with them, his arm around Magnus, and Clary and Jace walked beside them, hand in hand.
Tavvy reached up his arms. “Jules,” he said, his small voice clear and ringing. “Carry me. I’m tired. I want to go home.”
Slowly—as slowly as the passing of eons—Julian reached out with his bright hands, fissured with darkness from which heavenly fire poured like blood. He reached out toward Tavvy.
There was a burst of light that seared Dru’s eyes. When she had blinked it away, she saw that Julian and Emma were no longer there—no, they had slumped to the ground; they were dark figures within an aura of light, growing ever smaller, surrounded by a pool of illumination the color of bloody gold.
For a terrified moment Dru was sure they were dying. As the awful light faded, she saw Emma and Julian—human-size again—crumpled together on the ground. They lay with their hands clasped together, their eyes closed, like angels who had fallen from heaven and now slept peacefully upon the earth again.
33
REVERENCE
“Wake up, Emma. It’s time to wake up.”
There was a gentle hand on her forehead, a gentle voice calling her out of the long dark.
For some time there had been only shadows. Shadows and cold after a long period of burning. The world had tilted at a distance. She had seen a place too bright to remember and figures that shone like blades in the sun. She had heard voices calling her name. Emma. Emma.
Emma means universe, Julian had said.
But she had not woken up. She had heard Julian’s voice again, this time mixed with Jem’s.
“It was a clever touch,” Jem said, “having not one meeting but two. You knew any of the Shadowhunters might be loyal to the Cohort, so you had them attend only the first meeting. That way when they reported to Horace what your plans were, he was prepared only for you to interrupt the parley. Not for the Downworlder attack.”
“Jace and Clary agreed to be the bait,” Julian said. He sounded tired, even in her dream.
“We knew Horace would do anything to get his hands on them. That way we could march them in front of everyone and prove that Horace wasn’t just wrong that they were dead—he was trying to kill them.”
There was a long pause. Emma floated in more darkness, though she could see shapes in it now, shapes and shadows.
“I knew there would be spies at the meeting,” Julian said. “I admit they surprised me by sending a demon. I didn’t even figure it out until I saw the Eidolon on the battlefield. How do you think it got into the Sanctuary? Just posing as Oskar Lindquist shouldn’t have protected it.”
“Demons have been known to use Shadowhunter blood to enter Institutes. Oskar Lindquist was found dead yesterday. It is possible his blood was used.”
“But would that grant the demon the power to be invulnerable to seraph blades?” Julian said.
There was a long pause. “I know of no magic strong enough for that.” Jem sounded troubled. “The Silent Brothers will want to know—”
Emma dragged her eyes open reluctantly, not wanting to leave the softness of the dark. “Jem?” she whispered. Her throat and mouth were incredibly dry.
“Emma!” She was pulled into a hug. Jem’s arms were strong. She pressed her head into his shoulder. It was like being hugged by her father—a memory she kept always in the back of her mind, precious and unforgotten.
She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “Julian?” she whispered.
Jem drew back. She was able to see where she was—in a small room with two white beds, a window in the wall letting in sunshine. Julian sat on the bed opposite hers, wearing a clean T-shirt and loose pants like training garments. Someone had put her into the same clothes; her hair was tangled, and her whole body ached like a giant bruise.
Julian looked unharmed. Their eyes met and his expression softened; his back was straight and tense, his shoulders a hard line.
She wanted to go and hug him. At least to hold his hand. She forced herself not to move. She felt fragile inside, her heart thundering with love and fear. She didn’t trust herself to control her emotions.
“Don’t leave us,” she said. “Who will watch bad horror movies with me, Julian, if you’re gone? Who will train with me, Emma, and show me everything I’m doing wrong, and how to be better?”
Something shifted behind Dru. Helen had come to stand beside her. She reached her hands out as if she could touch the shining figures before her. “Julian,” she said. “You raised our brothers and sisters when I could not. You sacrificed your childhood to keep our family together. And Emma. You guarded this family when I could not. If you both leave me now, how will I ever get the chance to make it up to you?”
Julian and Emma were still expressionless, but Emma tilted her head slightly, almost as if she was listening.
Mark came forward, laying his slim hand on Dru’s shoulder. He craned his head back. “Julian,” he called. “You showed me how to be part of a family again. Emma, you showed me how to be a friend when I had forgotten friendship. You gave me hope when I was lost.” He stood straight as an elf-bolt, gazing into the sky. “Come back to us.”
Julian shifted. It was a minute movement, but Dru felt her heart leap. Maybe—maybe—
Ty stepped forward, his gear dusty and ripped where bark had torn it. His black hair fell in dark strands across his face. He pushed it away and said, “We lost Livvy. We—we lost her.”
Tears stung the backs of Dru’s eyes. There was something about the tone of Ty’s voice that made it sound as if this were the first time he had realized the finality and irrevocability of Livvy’s death.
Ty’s eyelashes shimmered with tears as he raised his gaze. “We can’t lose you, too. We will be—we will wind up broken. Julian, you taught me what every word I didn’t understand meant—and Emma, you chased off anybody who was ever mean to me. Who will teach me and protect me if you don’t go back to being yourselves?”
There was a great and thundering crash. Julian had fallen to his knees. Dru covered a gasp—he seemed smaller than he had, though still enormous. She could see the black fissures in his glowing skin where red sparks of fire leaked out like blood.
There is heavenly fire burning inside them. And no mortal being can survive that for very long.
“Emma,” Dru whispered. “Julian.”
They weren’t expressionless anymore. Dru had seen statues of mourning angels, of angels thrust through with fiery swords, weeping tears of agony. It was not easy to wield a sword for God.
She could see those statues again in the looks on their faces.
“Emma!” The cry burst from Cristina; she had broken away from the others and come running toward the Blackthorns. “Emma! Who will be my best friend if you’re not my best friend, Emma?” She was crying, tears mixing with the blood and dirt on her face. “Who will take care of my best friend when I cannot, Julian, if you are not there?”
Emma fell to her knees beside Julian. They were both weeping—tears of fire, red and gold. Dru hoped desperately that it meant that they felt something, and not that they were dying, coming apart in twin blazes of fire.
“Who will drive me crazy with questions in the classroom if not you?” called Diana. She was coming toward them as well, and so were Kieran and Aline, leaving Gwyn holding Windspear’s bridle, his face reflecting awe and wonder.
Aline cleared her throat. “Emma and Julian,” she said. “I don’t know you that well, and this giant thing is admittedly a huge surprise. That wasn’t a pun. I was being literal.” She glanced sideways at Helen. “But being around you makes my wife really happy, and that’s because she loves you both.” She paused. “I also like you, and we’re going to be a family, dammit, so come down here and be in this family!”
Helen patted Aline’s shoulder. “That was good, honey.”
“Julian,” Kieran said. “I could speak of the way Mark loves you, and Emma, I could speak of the friendship Cristina bears you. But the truth is that I have to be King of the Unseelie Court, and without your brilliance, Julian, and your bravery, Emma, I fear my reign will be brief.”
In the distance, Dru could see Isabelle and Simon approaching. Alec was with them, his arm around Magnus, and Clary and Jace walked beside them, hand in hand.
Tavvy reached up his arms. “Jules,” he said, his small voice clear and ringing. “Carry me. I’m tired. I want to go home.”
Slowly—as slowly as the passing of eons—Julian reached out with his bright hands, fissured with darkness from which heavenly fire poured like blood. He reached out toward Tavvy.
There was a burst of light that seared Dru’s eyes. When she had blinked it away, she saw that Julian and Emma were no longer there—no, they had slumped to the ground; they were dark figures within an aura of light, growing ever smaller, surrounded by a pool of illumination the color of bloody gold.
For a terrified moment Dru was sure they were dying. As the awful light faded, she saw Emma and Julian—human-size again—crumpled together on the ground. They lay with their hands clasped together, their eyes closed, like angels who had fallen from heaven and now slept peacefully upon the earth again.
33
REVERENCE
“Wake up, Emma. It’s time to wake up.”
There was a gentle hand on her forehead, a gentle voice calling her out of the long dark.
For some time there had been only shadows. Shadows and cold after a long period of burning. The world had tilted at a distance. She had seen a place too bright to remember and figures that shone like blades in the sun. She had heard voices calling her name. Emma. Emma.
Emma means universe, Julian had said.
But she had not woken up. She had heard Julian’s voice again, this time mixed with Jem’s.
“It was a clever touch,” Jem said, “having not one meeting but two. You knew any of the Shadowhunters might be loyal to the Cohort, so you had them attend only the first meeting. That way when they reported to Horace what your plans were, he was prepared only for you to interrupt the parley. Not for the Downworlder attack.”
“Jace and Clary agreed to be the bait,” Julian said. He sounded tired, even in her dream.
“We knew Horace would do anything to get his hands on them. That way we could march them in front of everyone and prove that Horace wasn’t just wrong that they were dead—he was trying to kill them.”
There was a long pause. Emma floated in more darkness, though she could see shapes in it now, shapes and shadows.
“I knew there would be spies at the meeting,” Julian said. “I admit they surprised me by sending a demon. I didn’t even figure it out until I saw the Eidolon on the battlefield. How do you think it got into the Sanctuary? Just posing as Oskar Lindquist shouldn’t have protected it.”
“Demons have been known to use Shadowhunter blood to enter Institutes. Oskar Lindquist was found dead yesterday. It is possible his blood was used.”
“But would that grant the demon the power to be invulnerable to seraph blades?” Julian said.
There was a long pause. “I know of no magic strong enough for that.” Jem sounded troubled. “The Silent Brothers will want to know—”
Emma dragged her eyes open reluctantly, not wanting to leave the softness of the dark. “Jem?” she whispered. Her throat and mouth were incredibly dry.
“Emma!” She was pulled into a hug. Jem’s arms were strong. She pressed her head into his shoulder. It was like being hugged by her father—a memory she kept always in the back of her mind, precious and unforgotten.
She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “Julian?” she whispered.
Jem drew back. She was able to see where she was—in a small room with two white beds, a window in the wall letting in sunshine. Julian sat on the bed opposite hers, wearing a clean T-shirt and loose pants like training garments. Someone had put her into the same clothes; her hair was tangled, and her whole body ached like a giant bruise.
Julian looked unharmed. Their eyes met and his expression softened; his back was straight and tense, his shoulders a hard line.
She wanted to go and hug him. At least to hold his hand. She forced herself not to move. She felt fragile inside, her heart thundering with love and fear. She didn’t trust herself to control her emotions.
