“Why didn’t you send it?” she said.
He looked at her, an odd shared look that passed between them, and said, “I had my reasons to reconsider.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” Gideon said. “Gabriel, you are my brother. . . .”
“You cannot make all choices for me, Gideon. Sometimes I have to make my own. As Shadowhunters we are meant to be selfless. To die for mundanes, for the Angel, and most of all for each other. Those are our principles. Charlotte lives by them; Father never did. I realized that I had been mistaken before in putting my loyalty to my bloodline above principle, above everything. And I realized the Consul was wrong about Charlotte.” Gabriel stopped abruptly; his mouth was set in a thin, white line. “He was wrong.” He turned to Charlotte. “I cannot take back what I have done in the past, or what I considered doing. I know of no way to make up to you my doubt in your authority, or my ungratefulness for your kindness. All I can do is tell you what I know: that you cannot wait for an approval from Consul Wayland that will never come. He will never march upon Cadair Idris for you, Charlotte. He does not want to agree to any plan that has your stamp of authority on it. He wishes you out of the Institute. Replaced.”
“But he is the one who put me here,” Charlotte said. “He supported me—”
“Because he thought you would be weak,” said Gabriel. “Because he believes women are weak and easily manipulated, but you have proved not to be, and it has ruined all his planning. He does not just desire you discredited; he needs it. He was clear enough with me that even if I could not discover you engaged in any true wrongdoing, he was granting me the freedom to invent a lie that would convict you. As long as it was a convincing one.”
Charlotte pressed her lips together. “Then he never had faith in me,” she whispered. “Never.”
Henry tightened his grip on her arm. “But he should have,” he said. “He underestimated you, and that is not a tragedy. That you have proven to be better, cleverer, and stronger than anyone could have expected, Charlotte—it is a triumph.”
Charlotte swallowed, and Cecily wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to have someone look at her as Henry looked at Charlotte—as if she were a wonder on the earth. “What do I do?”
“What you think best, Charlotte darling,” said Henry.
“You are the leader of the Enclave, and of the Institute,” said Gabriel. “We have faith in you, even if the Consul does not.” He ducked his head. “You have my loyalty from this day forward. For whatever it is worth to you.”
“It is worth a great deal,” Charlotte said, and there was something in her voice, a quiet authority that made Cecily want to rise and proclaim her own loyalty, simply to win the balm of Charlotte’s approval. Cecily couldn’t imagine feeling that way, she realized, about the Consul. And that is why the Consul hates her, she thought. Because she is a woman, and yet he knows she can command loyalty in a way he never could. “We proceed as if the Consul does not exist,” Charlotte went on. “If he is determined to remove me from my place here, then I have nothing to safeguard. It is simply a matter of doing what we must before he has a chance to stop us. Henry, how long before your invention is ready?”
“Tomorrow,” Henry said promptly. “I shall work through the night—”
“It will be the first time it is ever used,” said Gideon. “Does that not seem a bit risky?”
“We have no other way of getting to Wales in time,” said Charlotte. “Once I send my message, we will have only a short time before the Consul comes to relieve me of my place.”
“What message?” Cecily asked, bewildered.
“I am going to send a message to all the members of the Clave,” Charlotte said. “At once. Not the Enclave. The Clave.”
“But only the Consul is allowed—,” Henry began, then shut his mouth like a box. “Ah.”
“I will tell them the situation as it stands and ask for their assistance,” said Charlotte. “I am not sure what response we can count on, but surely some will stand with us.”
“I will stand with you,” said Cecily.
“And I, of course,” Gabriel said. His expression was resigned, nervous, considering, determined. Never had Cecily liked him more.
“And I,” said Gideon, “though”—and his gaze, as it passed over his brother, was worried—“a mere six of us, one only barely trained, against whatever force Mortmain has mustered . . .” Cecily was caught between pleasure that he had counted her as one of them and annoyance that he had said she was barely trained. “It could be a suicide mission.”
Sophie’s soft voice spoke again. “You may have only six Shadowhunters on your side, but you have at least nine fighters. I am trained as well, and I would like to fight alongside you. So will Bridget and Cyril.”
Charlotte looked half-pleased, half-startled. “But, Sophie, you have only just begun to be trained—”
“I have been trained longer than Miss Herondale,” said Sophie.
“Cecily is a Shadowhunter—”
“Miss Collins has a natural talent,” said Gideon. He spoke slowly, the conflict clear on his face. He did not want Sophie in the fighting, in danger, and yet would not lie about her abilities. “She should be allowed to Ascend and become a Shadowhunter.”
“Gideon—,” Sophie began, startled, but Charlotte was already looking at her with a keen dark gaze.
“Is that what you want, Sophie, dear? To Ascend?”
Sophie stammered. “I—it is what I have always wanted, Mrs. Branwell, but not if it meant I had to leave your service. You have been so kind to me, I would not wish to repay that by abandoning you—”
“Nonsense,” Charlotte said. “I can find another maid; I cannot find another Sophie. If being a Shadowhunter was what you wanted, my girl, I wish you had spoken. I could have gone to the Consul before I was at odds with him. Still, when we return—”
She broke off, and Cecily heard the words beneath the words: If we return.
“When we return, I will put you forward for Ascension,” Charlotte finished.
“I will speak out for her case as well,” Gideon said. “After all, I have my father’s place on the Council—his friends will listen to me; they still owe loyalty to our family—and besides, how else can we be married?”
“What?” said Gabriel with a wild hand gesture that accidentally flipped the nearest plate onto the floor, where it shattered.
“Married?” said Henry. “You’re marrying your father’s friends on the Council? Which of them?”
Gideon had gone an odd sort of greenish color; clearly he had not meant those words to escape him, and he did not know what to do now that they had. He was staring at Sophie in horror, but it didn’t seem she was likely to be much help either. She looked as shocked as a fish that had been stranded unexpectedly on land.
Cecily stood up and dropped her serviette onto her plate. “All right,” she said, doing her best to approximate the commanding tones her mother used when she needed something done about the house. “Everyone out of the room.”