Queen of Air and Darkness
Page 168
“You’re in the Basilias,” said Jem. “I woke you, Emma, after Julian had woken. I thought you would want to see each other.”
Emma looked around. Through a window in the wall, she could see a bigger room of white-sheeted cots, about half of which were taken up with patients. Silent Brothers moved among the rows and the air smelled of healing—herbs and flowers, the medicines of the Silent City.
Their room had a low arched ceiling painted with healing runes in gold and red and black. More windows faced out onto the buildings of Alicante: the red-roofed houses, the slim needles of the demon towers.
“The children, are they all right?” Emma said. “Helen—?”
“I already asked,” Julian said. It was hard for Emma to look away from him, and also painful to look at him—he seemed different somehow. Changed. She tore her gaze free and stared at Jem, who had risen to stand by the window. “Everyone’s all right, Emma.”
“Even Kit? He saved my life—”
“He was quite drained and ill,” said Jem. “But he has recovered well. He is in the Silent City. We lost good warriors on the battlefield, but your friends are safe. You have been unconscious for three days, so you missed the funerals. But then, you’ve attended too many funerals lately as it is.”
Emma frowned. “But why is Kit in the Silent City? The Basilias—”
“Emma,” Jem said. “I did not come to you to talk about Kit. I came to talk about you and Julian.” He pushed his hair back from his face; he looked tired, the white streak in his hair more pronounced. “You asked me a long time ago about the parabatai curse. What happens when two parabatai fell in love. I told you what I knew, but I didn’t dream you were asking for yourself.”
Emma felt herself go still. She looked at Julian, who nodded.
“He knows,” Julian said in a flat sort of voice. Emma wondered what he was feeling. She couldn’t quite read him as she usually could, but they were likely both in shock. “Everyone does now.”
Emma hugged her arms around herself. “But how—”
“I wish I had known,” Jem said, “though I can understand why you did not tell me. I have spoken with Magnus. I know all that you did to try to combat the curse. No one could have struggled more. But this is not a curse that can be undone, save by the destruction of every parabatai bond in all the world.” He looked at Emma with sharp eyes, and she felt the sudden weight of how very old Jem was, and how much he knew about people. “Or at least, that’s what was believed, and every attempt to investigate the curse turned up no records of what might happen if the curse were to be realized. We only knew symptoms: increased power with runes, ability to do things no other Nephilim could do. The fact that you broke the Mortal Sword, Emma—I am sure it was partly the strength of Cortana and partly the power of the curse. But these were all things we only guessed at for many years. Then the battle of three days ago happened. What of it do you remember?”
“Emma was dying in my arms,” Julian said. His voice shook. It was strange, though—normally Emma would have felt a twinge inside her ribs, a flicker of his pain. Now she didn’t. “There was a white light—and we were giants, looking down. I don’t feel what we felt, but I remember people looking like ants running around our feet. And feeling like we were on a mission, like we were being directed. I don’t know how to explain it. Like we were being told what to do and we had no choice except to do it.”
“As if something were working through you,” said Jem. “A will greater than yours?”
Emma put her hands to her chest. “I remember now—Zara stabbed me—I was bleeding—” She remembered again the feeling of burning, and the world spinning away and down. “We were giants?”
“I need to tell you a piece of Nephilim history,” said Jem, though Emma wished he would stick more closely to the topic of Giants: Had Emma and Julian Turned into Them? “Long, long ago, in the early history of Shadowhunters, there were huge demons that threatened the earth. Much bigger than any demon we have now save what Greater Demons can sometimes become. In that time, it was possible for Shadowhunters to become true Nephilim. Giants on the earth. We have old woodcuts and drawings of them, and the writings of those who saw them battling demons.” He took a piece of paper from his pocket and read aloud: “‘The land that we have gone through as spies is a land that devours its inhabitants; and all the people that we saw in it are of great size. There we saw the Nephilim; and to ourselves we seemed like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them.’”
“But this is history,” said Julian. “People don’t turn into giants now.”
A land that devours its inhabitants. Emma could not help but think of Thule and the stories of giants there.
“Most did not survive their transformations,” said Jem. “It was the ultimate sacrifice, to blaze up with heavenly fire and die destroying demons. But it was noticed that many who survived were parabatai. Shadowhunters were more likely to live through the transformation if they had a parabatai who did not transform, anchoring them to earth.”
“But we both transformed,” said Emma.
“You understand,” Jem said, “that for years we have tried to understand the parabatai curse and what it might be, but we certainly never tied it in to the time of Nephilim. The end of the time of Nephilim came when the giant demons ceased to come to earth. We don’t know why they disappeared; they simply did. Perhaps they were all slain. Perhaps they lost interest in this world. Perhaps they feared the Nephilim. This was eight hundred years ago, and many records have been lost.”
“So when we turned into giants,” said Julian, looking as if the words made him ill, “you realized the parabatai curse was tied to Nephilim somehow?”
“After the battle, we raced to turn up every record of the true Nephilim. In doing so, I discovered one tale of a terrible event. A Shadowhunter became a true Nephilim to battle a demon. Their parabatai was meant to stay behind as an anchor, but instead, they too transformed, uncontrollably. Both went wild. They slaughtered the demon and then they murdered their families and all those who tried to stop them until they burned alive from the heavenly fire.” He paused. “They were a married couple. In those days there was no Law against loving your parabatai. Some months later it happened again, this time with another pair of lovers.”
“And people didn’t know about this?” said Emma.
“Much was done to cover it up. The practice of parabatai is one of the most powerful tools the Shadowhunters possess. No one wanted to lose it. And since the great demons had vanished, it was not thought that there would be a need to employ true Nephilim again. Indeed, no one ever has, and the method by which true Nephilim were made has been lost. It could have ended there, and indeed there are no records in the Silent City of what happened, but Tessa was able to find an archive in the Spiral Labyrinth. It was the tale of two Shadowhunters who became like warlocks—powerful magicians, whose runes were unlike others’. They razed a peaceful town to the ground before they were burned to death. But I suspect they were not burned to death by the townspeople. I suspect that they died from the heavenly fire.” He paused. “Not long after the date of this tale, the Law was passed that no parabatai could fall in love.”
“That’s suspicious,” muttered Emma.
“So what you’re saying,” said Julian, “is that the Shadowhunters destroyed their own records of why they created the Law about parabatai love being forbidden? They were afraid that people would take advantage of the power—but they valued the benefits of parabatai too much to give up the ritual?”
“That is what I suspect,” said Jem, “though I do not think we will be able to prove it.”
“This can’t keep happening,” said Emma. “We need to tell everyone the truth.”
“The truth won’t stop it happening,” said Julian. He looked at her steadily. “I would have fallen in love with you even if I’d known exactly what the danger was.”
Emma’s heart seemed to trip over itself. She tried to keep her voice steady. “But if the horrible punishments are taken away,” she said, “if people don’t think they’ll lose their families, they’ll come forward. Mercy is better than revenge—isn’t it?”
Emma looked around. Through a window in the wall, she could see a bigger room of white-sheeted cots, about half of which were taken up with patients. Silent Brothers moved among the rows and the air smelled of healing—herbs and flowers, the medicines of the Silent City.
Their room had a low arched ceiling painted with healing runes in gold and red and black. More windows faced out onto the buildings of Alicante: the red-roofed houses, the slim needles of the demon towers.
“The children, are they all right?” Emma said. “Helen—?”
“I already asked,” Julian said. It was hard for Emma to look away from him, and also painful to look at him—he seemed different somehow. Changed. She tore her gaze free and stared at Jem, who had risen to stand by the window. “Everyone’s all right, Emma.”
“Even Kit? He saved my life—”
“He was quite drained and ill,” said Jem. “But he has recovered well. He is in the Silent City. We lost good warriors on the battlefield, but your friends are safe. You have been unconscious for three days, so you missed the funerals. But then, you’ve attended too many funerals lately as it is.”
Emma frowned. “But why is Kit in the Silent City? The Basilias—”
“Emma,” Jem said. “I did not come to you to talk about Kit. I came to talk about you and Julian.” He pushed his hair back from his face; he looked tired, the white streak in his hair more pronounced. “You asked me a long time ago about the parabatai curse. What happens when two parabatai fell in love. I told you what I knew, but I didn’t dream you were asking for yourself.”
Emma felt herself go still. She looked at Julian, who nodded.
“He knows,” Julian said in a flat sort of voice. Emma wondered what he was feeling. She couldn’t quite read him as she usually could, but they were likely both in shock. “Everyone does now.”
Emma hugged her arms around herself. “But how—”
“I wish I had known,” Jem said, “though I can understand why you did not tell me. I have spoken with Magnus. I know all that you did to try to combat the curse. No one could have struggled more. But this is not a curse that can be undone, save by the destruction of every parabatai bond in all the world.” He looked at Emma with sharp eyes, and she felt the sudden weight of how very old Jem was, and how much he knew about people. “Or at least, that’s what was believed, and every attempt to investigate the curse turned up no records of what might happen if the curse were to be realized. We only knew symptoms: increased power with runes, ability to do things no other Nephilim could do. The fact that you broke the Mortal Sword, Emma—I am sure it was partly the strength of Cortana and partly the power of the curse. But these were all things we only guessed at for many years. Then the battle of three days ago happened. What of it do you remember?”
“Emma was dying in my arms,” Julian said. His voice shook. It was strange, though—normally Emma would have felt a twinge inside her ribs, a flicker of his pain. Now she didn’t. “There was a white light—and we were giants, looking down. I don’t feel what we felt, but I remember people looking like ants running around our feet. And feeling like we were on a mission, like we were being directed. I don’t know how to explain it. Like we were being told what to do and we had no choice except to do it.”
“As if something were working through you,” said Jem. “A will greater than yours?”
Emma put her hands to her chest. “I remember now—Zara stabbed me—I was bleeding—” She remembered again the feeling of burning, and the world spinning away and down. “We were giants?”
“I need to tell you a piece of Nephilim history,” said Jem, though Emma wished he would stick more closely to the topic of Giants: Had Emma and Julian Turned into Them? “Long, long ago, in the early history of Shadowhunters, there were huge demons that threatened the earth. Much bigger than any demon we have now save what Greater Demons can sometimes become. In that time, it was possible for Shadowhunters to become true Nephilim. Giants on the earth. We have old woodcuts and drawings of them, and the writings of those who saw them battling demons.” He took a piece of paper from his pocket and read aloud: “‘The land that we have gone through as spies is a land that devours its inhabitants; and all the people that we saw in it are of great size. There we saw the Nephilim; and to ourselves we seemed like grasshoppers, and so we seemed to them.’”
“But this is history,” said Julian. “People don’t turn into giants now.”
A land that devours its inhabitants. Emma could not help but think of Thule and the stories of giants there.
“Most did not survive their transformations,” said Jem. “It was the ultimate sacrifice, to blaze up with heavenly fire and die destroying demons. But it was noticed that many who survived were parabatai. Shadowhunters were more likely to live through the transformation if they had a parabatai who did not transform, anchoring them to earth.”
“But we both transformed,” said Emma.
“You understand,” Jem said, “that for years we have tried to understand the parabatai curse and what it might be, but we certainly never tied it in to the time of Nephilim. The end of the time of Nephilim came when the giant demons ceased to come to earth. We don’t know why they disappeared; they simply did. Perhaps they were all slain. Perhaps they lost interest in this world. Perhaps they feared the Nephilim. This was eight hundred years ago, and many records have been lost.”
“So when we turned into giants,” said Julian, looking as if the words made him ill, “you realized the parabatai curse was tied to Nephilim somehow?”
“After the battle, we raced to turn up every record of the true Nephilim. In doing so, I discovered one tale of a terrible event. A Shadowhunter became a true Nephilim to battle a demon. Their parabatai was meant to stay behind as an anchor, but instead, they too transformed, uncontrollably. Both went wild. They slaughtered the demon and then they murdered their families and all those who tried to stop them until they burned alive from the heavenly fire.” He paused. “They were a married couple. In those days there was no Law against loving your parabatai. Some months later it happened again, this time with another pair of lovers.”
“And people didn’t know about this?” said Emma.
“Much was done to cover it up. The practice of parabatai is one of the most powerful tools the Shadowhunters possess. No one wanted to lose it. And since the great demons had vanished, it was not thought that there would be a need to employ true Nephilim again. Indeed, no one ever has, and the method by which true Nephilim were made has been lost. It could have ended there, and indeed there are no records in the Silent City of what happened, but Tessa was able to find an archive in the Spiral Labyrinth. It was the tale of two Shadowhunters who became like warlocks—powerful magicians, whose runes were unlike others’. They razed a peaceful town to the ground before they were burned to death. But I suspect they were not burned to death by the townspeople. I suspect that they died from the heavenly fire.” He paused. “Not long after the date of this tale, the Law was passed that no parabatai could fall in love.”
“That’s suspicious,” muttered Emma.
“So what you’re saying,” said Julian, “is that the Shadowhunters destroyed their own records of why they created the Law about parabatai love being forbidden? They were afraid that people would take advantage of the power—but they valued the benefits of parabatai too much to give up the ritual?”
“That is what I suspect,” said Jem, “though I do not think we will be able to prove it.”
“This can’t keep happening,” said Emma. “We need to tell everyone the truth.”
“The truth won’t stop it happening,” said Julian. He looked at her steadily. “I would have fallen in love with you even if I’d known exactly what the danger was.”
Emma’s heart seemed to trip over itself. She tried to keep her voice steady. “But if the horrible punishments are taken away,” she said, “if people don’t think they’ll lose their families, they’ll come forward. Mercy is better than revenge—isn’t it?”
