Queen of Air and Darkness
Page 106

Everything seemed to slow to a crawl. Emma heard Julian’s breath rattle in his throat; he stopped dead, as if he had been turned to stone.
“Julian Blackthorn,” Sebastian said, and the white mist curling around him was the color of his hair, of Ash’s hair. Two winter princes. “Did you really think I’d be fooled by your poor performance in the nightclub?”
“Annabel,” Julian said, his voice hoarse, and Emma knew what he was thinking: Annabel must have betrayed them, Annabel, who knew who they really were.
Sebastian’s brow furrowed. “What about Annabel?”
Ash shook his head slightly. It was a tiny movement, a minuscule negation, but Emma saw it, and she was fairly sure Julian had seen it too. No, he was saying. Annabel didn’t betray you.
But why would Ash—?
“Drop your gun,” Sebastian said, and Julian did, tossing it into the fog. Sebastian had barely looked at Emma; now he turned his lazy, contemptuous gaze in her direction. “And you. Drop that cheap sword.”
Emma dropped the longsword with a clang. Had he not seen the Mortal Sword strapped across her back?
“You have the sun in your skin,” Sebastian said. “That alone would have told me you weren’t from Thule. And thanks to Ash, I know the story of your world. I knew of the Portal. I’ve been wondering all this time if one of you would stumble through it. I knew you’d go straight for the Mortal Instruments to hide them from me. All I had to do was post some guards here and wait for the tip-off.” He grinned like a jaguar. “Now hand over the Mortal Instruments, or Julian here will blow your sister’s head off.”
The real Julian looked at Livvy. Emma was screaming inside: He can’t watch her die again, not again, nobody could live through that twice.
Livvy’s gaze was steady on her brother’s. There was no fear in her expression.
“You won’t let her live,” Julian said. “No matter what I do, you’ll kill her.”
Sebastian grinned a little wider. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“All right,” Julian said. His shoulders slumped. “I’m reaching for the Cup,” he said, holding up one hand as the other unzipped his jacket. Emma watched him in dismay as he reached inside. “I’m going to hold it out to you—”
He drew his hand out from his jacket; he was holding a throwing knife, small and sharp with red stones in the hilt; Emma barely had time to recognize it before he had flung it. It whipped through the air, grazing Livvy’s cheek and sinking deeply into the eye of the Endarkened Julian who held her.
He didn’t even scream. He fell back, hitting the pavement with a thud, his pistol rolling out of his open hand; Sebastian shouted but Livvy was already gone, ducking and rolling into the mist.
Emma drew the Mortal Sword and charged, directly at Sebastian.
The world exploded into chaos. Sebastian yelled for his Endarkened and they came running, abandoning the rebels to throw themselves between Emma and their leader. Jace lunged at Emma, pushing Ash behind him, but Julian was already there; he had caught up the fallen longsword and it clanged, hard, against Heosphoros as he drove Jace back, away from Emma.
Emma slashed out at the nearest Endarkened with the Mortal Sword. Its heaviness had turned to light in her grip; it sang as she wielded it as only Cortana had sung in her hand before, and suddenly she remembered its name: Maellartach. An Endarkened with close-cropped blond hair aimed a pistol at her; the bullet clanged off the blade of Maellartach. The Endarkened gaped at her and Emma drove the Mortal Sword into his chest, flinging him backward with such force that he took another Endarkened down with him as he fell.
She heard someone cry out; it was Livvy, leaping into the fray. She ducked, rolled, and shot, taking out an Endarkened who was charging at Bat. The sounds of battle echoed like dull thunder off the walls of mist that curled and slid around them.
Maellartach was a silver blur in Emma’s hand, turning away blades and bullets as she inched closer to Sebastian. She saw Bat move toward Ash, bayonet in hand. Ash wasn’t moving; he was standing watching the chaos like an onlooker at the theater.
“Put your hands behind your back,” Bat said, and Ash glanced over at him with a frown, as if he were a rude guest who had interrupted a play. Bat raised the bayonet. “Look, kid, you’d better—”
Ash fixed Bat with a steady green gaze. “You don’t want to do that,” he said.
Bat froze, gripping his weapon. Ash turned and walked away—not hurrying, almost sauntering, really—and vanished into the fog.
“Bat! Look out!” Maia shouted, and Bat spun to plunge his bayonet into the body of an advancing Endarkened warrior.
And then came the scream. A howl of agony so shrill and intense, it pierced the fog. A woman in Endarkened gear flew across the square, her hair unfurling behind her like a banner spun out of gold, and threw herself across the dead body of this world’s Julian Blackthorn.
Emma knew it was herself; the herself of Thule, clutching at the body of her dead partner, sobbing against his chest, her fingers clawing his blood-wet clothes. She screamed over and over, each a sharp, short howl, like a car alarm going off on an empty street.
Emma couldn’t help staring, and Julian—her own Julian—jerked in surprise and spun to look—recognizing the sound of Emma’s voice, she guessed. The split-second break in his attention left an opening for Jace, who lunged forward with Heosphoros; Julian, twisting to the side, just barely avoided the blade, but stumbled; Jace swept his feet out from under him and he went down.
No. Emma spun around, reversing course, but if Jace brought the sword down, there was no way she’d get there in time—
A plume of yellow flame shot between Jace and Julian. Julian scrambled back as Jace turned to stare; Raphael was holding Tessa upright, and her hand was stretched out, yellow fire still dancing at her fingertips. She looked frayed and exhausted, but her eyes were dark with sorrow as they fixed on Jace.
It was an odd, frozen moment, the kind that sometimes happened in the midst of battle. It was broken by a figure stumbling from the entrance to the Silent City—Diana, bloodstained and panting, but alive. Emma’s heart leaped with relief.
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Go into the City!” he shouted. “Find everything! Spell books! Records! Bring it all to me!”
Tessa gasped. “No—the destruction he could wreak—”
Jace immediately turned away from Julian, as if he’d forgotten he was there. “Endarkened,” he called. His voice was deep and flat, without tone or emotion. “Come to me.”
Emma turned to run toward the City entrance; she could hear Sebastian laughing. Julian had sprung to his feet and was beside her; Livvy spun, kicked at an Endarkened, and ran toward Tessa and the others. “Shut the doors! Shut the doors!”
“No!” Diana looked wildly around the scene of carnage. “Cameron’s still in there!”
Julian turned toward Tessa. “What can we do?”
“I can shut the doors, but you must understand that I cannot open them again,” Tessa said. “Cameron will be trapped.”
A look of agony passed across Livvy’s face. Jace and the other Endarkened were moving toward them; there were seconds to spare.
The agony didn’t leave Livvy’s eyes, but her jaw hardened. In that moment, she had never looked more like Julian. “Close the doors,” she said.
“Stop the warlock!” Sebastian cried. “Stop her—”
He broke off with a howl. Maia, behind him, had plunged a sword into his side. The blade drove into him, smeared with blackish blood. He barely seemed to notice.
“Tessa—” Emma began, and she didn’t know what she planned to say, whether she planned to ask Tessa if she had the strength to close the doors, whether she intended to tell her to do it or not to do it. Tessa moved before she could finish her sentence, raising her slender arms, murmuring words Emma would always try to remember and always find sliding out of her mind.
Golden sparks flew from Tessa’s fingers, illuminating the archway. The doors began to slide closed, grinding and rattling. Sebastian yelled with rage and grabbed the sword protruding from his side. He yanked it free and flung it at Maia, who threw herself to the ground to avoid being struck.