Nate’s eyes opened. “They won’t?” He sounded astonished. “Why not?”
“They’re too young,” said Jessamine. “Shadowhunters are considered adults at eighteen, and for this kind of undertaking—something dangerous that the whole Enclave is participating in—they tend to leave the younger ones at home.”
Tessa felt a strange little pang of relief, which she covered by asking hurriedly, “But that’s so odd. They let Will and Jem go to de Quincey’s—”
“And that’s why they can’t go now. Apparently, Benedict Lightwood is arguing that the raid on de Quincey’s turned out as badly as it did because Will and Jem are insufficiently trained, though how any of it was meant to be Jem’s fault, I’m not sure. If you ask me, he wants an excuse to make Gabriel stay at home, even though he’s already eighteen. He babies him horribly. Charlotte said he told her that there have been whole Enclaves wiped out in a single night before, and the Nephilim have an obligation to leave the younger generation standing, to carry on, as it were.”
Tessa’s stomach twisted. Before she could say anything, the door opened and Thomas came in. He was carrying a stack of folded clothes. “These are old things of Master Jem’s,” he said to Nate, looking slightly embarrassed. “It looks like you might be about the same size, and, well, you ought to have something to wear. If you’ll accompany me back to your room, we can see if they fit.”
Jessamine rolled her eyes. Tessa wasn’t sure why. Perhaps she thought castoffs weren’t good enough for Nate.
“Thank you, Thomas,” Nate said, rising to his feet. “And I must tender my apologies for my earlier behavior, when I, ah, hid from you. I must have been feverish. That’s the only explanation.”
Thomas flushed. “Just doing my job, sir.”
“Perhaps you should get some sleep,” Tessa said, noting the dark rings of exhaustion around her brother’s eyes. “There won’t be much for us to do now, not until they return.”
“Actually,” Nate said, looking from Jessamine to Tessa, “I think I’ve had enough of rest. A fellow ought to get back on his feet eventually, oughtn’t he? I could stand to eat a bite of something, and I wouldn’t mind some company. If you wouldn’t mind my joining you here once I’m dressed?”
“Of course not!” Jessamine looked delighted. “I’ll ask Agatha to prepare something light. And perhaps a game of cards to keep us occupied after we eat. Sandwiches and tea, I think.” She clapped her hands together as Thomas and Nate left the room, and turned to Tessa, her eyes bright. “Won’t that be fun?”
“Cards?” Tessa, who had been shocked nearly speechless by Jessamine’s suggestion, found her voice. “You think we ought to play cards? While Henry and Charlotte are off fighting de Quincey?”
Jessamine tossed her head. “As if our moping around would help them! I’m sure they’d rather we were cheerful and active in their absence rather than idle and morose.”
Tessa frowned. “I really don’t think,” she said, “that suggesting cards to Nate was a kind idea, Jessamine. You know perfectly well he has … trouble … with gambling.”
“We’re not going to gamble,” Jessamine said airily. “Just a friendly game of cards. Really, Tessa, must you be such a wet blanket?”
“A what? Jessamine, I know you’re only trying to keep Nate happy. But this isn’t the way—”
“And I suppose you’ve mastered the art of winning men’s affections?” Jessamine snapped, her brown eyes sparking with anger. “You think I haven’t seen you looking at Will with puppy-dog eyes? As if he were even— Oh!” She threw up her hands. “Never mind. You make me sick. I’m going to talk to Agatha without you.” With that, she rose to her feet and flounced out of the room, pausing in the doorway only to say “And I know you don’t care how you look, but you ought to at least fix your hair, Tessa. It looks like birds are living in it!” before the door slammed shut behind her.
Silly as Tessa knew it was, Jessamine’s words stung. She hastened back to her room to splash water on her face and run a hairbrush through her tangled hair. Looking at her own white face in the mirror, she tried not to wonder if she still looked like the sister Nate remembered. Tried not to imagine how she might have changed.
Finished, she hurried out into the corridor—and nearly walked directly into Will, who was leaning against the corridor wall opposite her door, examining his nails. With his usual disregard for manners, he was in shirtsleeves, and over the shirt was a series of leather straps crisscrossing his chest. Across his back hung a long, thin blade; she could see the hilt of it just over his shoulder. Thrust through his belt were several long, thin white seraph blades.
“I—” Jessamine’s voice echoed in Tessa’s head: You think I haven’t seen you looking at Will with puppy-dog eyes? The witchlight was burning low. Tessa hoped it was too dim in the corridor for him to see her blush. “I thought you weren’t going with the Enclave tonight,” she said finally, more to have something to say than anything else.
“I’m not. I’m bringing these down to Charlotte and Henry in the courtyard. Benedict Lightwood is sending his carriage for them. It’s faster. It should be here shortly.” It was dark in the corridor, dark enough that though Tessa thought that Will was smiling, she wasn’t sure. “Concerned about my safety, are you? Or had you planned to gift me with a favor so I could wear it into battle like Wilfred of Ivanhoe?”
“I never liked that book,” Tessa said. “Rowena was such a ninny. Ivanhoe should have chosen Rebecca.”
“The dark-haired girl, not the blonde? Really?” Now she was almost sure he was smiling.
“Will—?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think the Enclave will actually manage to kill him? De Quincey, that is?”
“Yes.” He spoke without hesitation. “The time for negotiation has passed. If you’ve ever seen terriers in a rat-baiting pit—well, I don’t suppose you would have. But that’s what it will be like tonight. The Clave will dispatch the vampires one by one until they are wiped out utterly.”
“You mean there will be no more vampires in London?”
Will shrugged. “There are always vampires. But de Quincey’s clan will be gone.”
“And once it’s over—once the Magister is gone—I suppose there will be no more reason for Nate and me to stay in the Institute, will there?”
“I—” Will seemed genuinely taken aback. “I suppose— Yes, well, that’s true. I imagine that you would prefer to stay in a less … violent locale. Perhaps you could even see some of the nicer parts of London. Westminster Abbey—”
“I would prefer to go home,” Tessa said. “To New York.”
Will said nothing. The witchlight in the corridor had faded; in the shadows she couldn’t clearly see his face.
“Unless there were a reason for me to stay,” she went on, half-wondering what she herself even meant by that. It was easier to talk to Will like this, when she couldn’t see his face, and could only sense his presence near hers in the dark corridor.