Queen of Air and Darkness
Page 125

“Kieran killed his father in the middle of a battle,” said Gwyn. “I should think he could do this. There is hardly family feeling between Kieran and Oban.”
“Stop!” Kieran said. “I can speak for myself. I will not do it, Gwyn. I am not fit to be King.”
“Not fit?” Gwyn demanded. “The best of my Hunters? Kieran—”
“Leave him be, Gwyn,” Mark said. “It is his choice alone.”
Gwyn placed his helmet on his head and swung himself onto Orion’s back. “I am not asking you to do this because it is the best thing for you, Kieran,” he said, looking down from the horse’s back. “I am asking you because it is the best thing for Faerie.”
Orion sprang into the air. In the distance, Ty and Kit gave a small cheer, waving at Gwyn from the ground.
“Gwyn has gone mad,” said Kieran. “I am not the best thing for any place.”
Before Mark could reply, Cristina’s phone beeped. She picked it up and said, “It’s Emma. Magnus is recovering.” She smiled all over her face, bright as a star. “The lake water is working.”
25
BY LIFTING WINDS
Sunlight poured into the library through every available window: They had all been flung open. It lay in squares on the floor and painted the table in bright stripes. It turned Mark’s and Helen’s hair to white gold, made Jace into a tousled bronze statue, and lit Magnus’s cat eyes to tourmaline as he sat curled on the couch, looking pale but energized and drinking Lake Lyn water out of a crystal vial with a brightly colored straw.
He was leaning against Alec, who was grinning ear to ear and scolding Magnus to drink more water. Emma wouldn’t have thought it was possible to do both at once, but Alec was used to multitasking.
“This water is making me drunk,” Magnus complained. “And it tastes awful.”
“It contains no alcohol,” said Diana. She looked tired—not surprising, after her journey to and from Idris—but composed as always, in a tailored black dress. “It might have a slight hallucinatory effect, though.”
“That explains why I can see seven of you,” Magnus said to Alec. “My ultimate fantasy.”
Dru covered Tavvy’s ears, though Tavvy was playing with a Slinky Alec had given him and appeared deaf to the world.
Magnus pointed. “That one of you over there is extremely attractive, Alexander.”
“That’s a vase,” said Helen.
Magnus squinted at it. “I’d be willing to buy it from you.”
“Maybe later,” said Helen. “Right now we should all focus on what Diana has to tell us.”
Diana took a sip of coffee. Emma had tea; everyone else was mainlining caffeine and sugar. Alec had gone out in a state of mad happiness and bought dozens of cinnamon rolls, doughnuts, and pies for breakfast. This had had the effect of getting everyone to rush at top speed to the library, including Kit and Ty. Even the most secretive fifteen-year-old boy wasn’t immune to glazed apple fritters.
“I told some of you last night, but it’s probably best I explain it again,” she said. “We were able to get a great deal of water from Lake Lyn with the help of the Wild Hunt; they are currently distributing it to warlocks all over the world.”
“The Clave and Council have noticed nothing,” said Helen. “Aline spoke to her father this morning and he confirmed it.” Aline was in the office now, tracking the progress of the deliveries of the lake water to warlocks in even the remotest places.
Emma raised her Styrofoam cup of tea. “Good job, Diana!”
A cheer went around the table; Diana smiled. “I could not have done it without Gwyn,” she said. “Or without Kieran. It is faeries who have helped us.”
“The Children of Lilith will indeed be in debt to the Children of the Courts after this day, Kieran Kingson,” said Magnus, staring intently in what he clearly thought was Kieran’s direction.
“That was a very nice speech, Bane,” said Jace. “Unfortunately, you’re talking to a doughnut.”
“I appreciate the sentiment regardless,” said Kieran. He had blushed at Diana’s words and the tops of his cheekbones were still pink. It made a nice contrast with his blue hair.
Diana cleared her throat. “We brought the lake water to the blight,” she said. “It seemed to stop it from spreading, but the land is still ruined. I don’t know if it will heal.”
“Tessa says it will stop affecting the warlocks,” said Cristina. “That the land will always be scarred, but the sickness will no longer spread.”
“Did you see anything else in Idris?” Julian asked. Emma looked at him sideways; it hurt to look at him too directly. “Anything else we should know?”
Diana turned the cup in her hands around thoughtfully. “Idris feels—empty and strange with no Downworlders there. Some of its magic has fled. A Brocelind without faeries is just a forest. It is as if a piece of the soul of Idris is gone.”
“Helen—” It was Aline, slamming the door behind her; she looked disheveled and worried. In her hand was a piece of slightly charred paper—a fire-message. She stopped dead as she seemed to realize how many other people were in the library. “I just talked to Maia in New York. A mob of Shadowhunters descended on a group of harmless faeries and slaughtered them. Kaelie Whitewillow is dead.” Aline’s voice was tight with strain.
“How dare they?” Magnus sat up straight, his face alive with fury. He slammed the vial down on the table. “The Cold Peace wasn’t enough? Banishing Downworlders who have lived in Idris for centuries wasn’t enough? Now it’s murder?”
“Magnus—” Alec began, clearly worried.
Blue flame shot from Magnus’s hands. Everyone jerked backward; Dru grabbed Tavvy. Kieran flung an arm across Cristina to shield her; so did Mark, at the same time. No one looked more startled than Cristina.
Emma raised an eyebrow at Cristina across the table. Cristina blushed, and both Mark and Kieran quickly dropped their arms.
The blue flame was gone in a moment; there was a streak of char on the table, but no other damage. Magnus looked down at his hands in surprise.
“Your magic’s back!” said Clary.
Magnus winked at her. “Some say it was never gone, biscuit.”
“This can’t go on,” Jace said. “This attack was in revenge for our deaths.”
Clary agreed. “We have to tell people we’re alive. We can’t let our names become instruments of vengeance.”
A hubbub of voices broke out at the table. Jace was looking sick; Alec had a hand on his parabatai’s shoulder. Magnus was grimly studying his hands, still blue at the fingertips.
“Be realistic, Clary,” Helen said. “How do you plan to reveal yourselves and still keep yourselves safe?”
“I don’t care about being safe,” Clary said.
“No, you never have,” Magnus pointed out. “But you are a significant weapon against the Cohort. You and Jace. Don’t take yourselves out of the equation.”
“A message from Idris came while I was in the office,” said Aline. “The parley with the Unseelie King and Horace Dearborn will take place on the Imperishable Fields in two days.”
“Who’s going to be there?” said Emma.
“Just the Cohort and the King,” she said.
“So they could say anything at all to each other, and we wouldn’t know?” said Mark.
Aline frowned. “No, that’s the odd thing. The letter said the parley would be Projected throughout Alicante. Everyone in the city will be able to see it.”
“Horace wants to be observed,” Julian said, half to himself.
“What do you mean?” Emma asked him.
He frowned, clearly puzzled and frustrated. “I don’t—I’m not entirely sure—”
“Manuel spoke of this in Faerie,” said Mark, as if suddenly remembering something. “Did he not, Kieran? He said to Oban: ‘When every Shadowhunter sees you meet and achieve a mutually beneficial peace, all will realize that you and Horace Dearborn are the greatest of leaders, able to achieve the alliance your forefathers could not.’”