♕

The room at the Devil Tavern was cozy, a low fire burning in the grate. The Merry Thieves were sprawled all about on the battered furniture: Christopher and Thomas on the old chesterfield sofa, James in an armchair, and Matthew in a seat at the round wooden table.

Everyone was hailing Christopher as a hero for having created the antidote to the Mandikhor poison—a tale made even more romantic by the fact that Christopher had been stricken down and healed himself. 

James had taken off his jacket, which had several burn holes in it, and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. The three had all done what they could to clean up when they arrived at the tavern, but there was still soot on his collar, and in Matthew's and Cordelia's hair, and the kingfisher-blue dress was, Dahlia suspected, utterly ruined.

Matthew was turning a glass in his hand, looking thoughtfully at the pale amber contents.

"Matthew, you should really drink some water," said Christopher. "Alcohol won't help with the dehydration after you inhaled all that smoke."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. Christopher seemed undeterred.

"Water is the devil's brew," said Matthew.

"That is why you are always dyspeptic, Math." said James. His expression was unreadable. 

Footsteps sounded on the steps and Lucie burst in, nearly staggering under the weight of a pile of clothes: two suits for James and Matthew, and a plain cotton dress for Cordelia.

She was greeted with a round of applause. "We have got to start keeping spare clothes at the Devil for such occurrences as this," James had said.

"There had better not be any more occurrences such as this," Matthew had glowered.

"Well I told you lot this ages ago, but I did have some suits hidden somewhere in the couches." Dahlia protested.

Lucie dumped the clothes into her brother's lap and glared at him. "I cannot believe," she said, "that you burned down Blackthorn Manor without me!"

"But you weren't around, Luce," James protested. "You went to see Uncle Jem."

"It's true," Lucie said. "I just wish I had been with you. I never liked the manor when we were growing up. Besides, I've always wanted to burn down a house."

"I assure you," said James, "that it is overrated."

Lucie plucked the dress from James's lap and gestured for Cordelia to follow her into the adjoining bedroom. 

Dahlia picked up a glass of champagne. "You have lost your minds." she declared, plopping down on the couch next to Christopher.

James looked about ready to protest.

Matthew sipped his brandy, "Well James has, yes. I believe all the excitement has made him quiet rash." 

James slapped Matthew's head.

"I still cannot believe you burned down a house," Thomas said, toasting James.

"Most of you never saw inside that house," said Lucie, perching herself on the edge of the sofa, near Jame, having returned with Cordelia. "I peeked in the windows when I was a little girl. All the rooms full of dry rot and blackbeetles, and the clocks all stopped at twenty to nine. No one will think it burned down for any reason save neglect."

"Is that what we're claiming?" asked Christopher. "To the Enclave, I mean. There is the meeting tomorrow to consider."

James templed his fingers under his chin. The bracelet on his right wrist gleamed. "I should be willing to confess to what I did, but I wish to leave Matthew and Cordelia out of it, and I cannot speak of the reason I went in the first place. It would be breaking my promise to Grace."

Christopher looked puzzled. "Then are we meant to invent a reason?"

"You could always say you burned it down to improve the view from Herondale Manor," said Matthew. "Or perhaps to raise the property value."

"Or you could claim to be an incorrigible pyromaniac," said Dahlia cheerfully.

Thomas cleared his throat. "It seems to me," he said, "that many people will be harmed if you tell the story of what happened tonight. Whereas if you keep the story to yourselves, an evil old house full of dark magic items will have been destroyed, along with a dangerous automaton. I would strongly urge you not to say anything."

Matthew looked startled. "Really? Our True Thomas, who so often counsels honesty?"

Thomas shrugged. "Not in every situation. I do think the Clave will need to be told of Tatiana's dangerous proclivities eventually. But it seems the loss of Blackthorn Manor will leave her harmless for a while."

"Once Grace and Charles formally announce their engagement," said James quietly. "We can do it then."

"I am happy to keep silent for now," said Cordelia. "It was, after all, Grace's request, and we ought to protect her."

"It is a pity, actually, that no one will ever know how James, Cordelia, and Matthew are heroes for foiling a demonic plan to attack Idris," said Lucie.

"We will always know," said Thomas, and raised his glass. "To being secret heroes."

"To standing by each other no matter what," said Matthew, raising his own, and as they all cheered and toasted.

♕

The Sanctuary had been set up to be a meeting place, with rows of chairs facing a lectern. Golden statues of Raziel were set in each alcove, and Tessa had hung tapestries showing the crests of every London Shadowhunter family on the walls. James and Christopher had both been seated at the front of the room. Every chair was filled and many were standing; the room was stuffed to bursting. 

Dahlia had protested, but was stuck to sit with Matthew and Lucie. She had even offered to her father that she would actually behave if she would sit with Christopher, but he had refused imperiously.

Will Herondale stood up at the lectern, handsome in a gray coat and waistcoat with pin-striped trousers; he appeared to be having a friendly argument with Gabriel Lightwood as Tessa looked on. 

Dahlia's father was not far away, glowering.

He had been enraged when he found out what had happened while he and Dahlia's mother had been out of town to escape the reality of Ariadne. Dahlia had apologized many times, but she had been curfewed and yelled at for hours. She was to tell her parents where she was going for at least the next few months. Dahlia was about to remind her parents that she was engaged but she decided to keep quiet and use it to her advantage later.

Ariadne had been in bed for a while because Dahlia's mother had been fussing over her, Dahlia would come in with tea and toast and they would launch into conversation. Ariadne had demanded what had happened in detail, over tea with Dahlia reading her sister books as intervals.

Thanks to Dahlia's intense convincing and promises Ariadne was able to attend the Enclave meeting today. Ariadne was in the row in front of Dahlia, looking calm and very beautiful in a deep aubergine dress, with a matching bow in her dark hair.

Rosamund Wentworth was also there, as were Anna and Cecily Lightwood, who were playing with little Alexander at the edge of the dry fountain. Alexander appeared to be tossing something shiny and likely breakable into the air.

Sophie and Gideon Lightwood, freshly back from Idris, were smiling over at Cecily and little Alex, but Sophie's eyes were sad. Thomas and his sister Eugenia sat close by. Eugenia resembled a sharper version of Barbara: she was small but angular, with dusky hair upswept in a Gibson girl pompadour.

Seated at the very edge of the group of Shadowhunters, near Dahlia's mother -Laurina Bridgestock, was Tatiana Blackthorn, rigidly upright in her chair; she had not removed her hat, and the ornate stuffed bird atop it glared menacingly. She was thinner than ever, her hands tightly clenched in her lap, her face rigid with fury.

Grace sat some distance from her mother, beside Charles, who was chattering away in her ear. She and Tatiana did not look at each other. 

The most surprising guest was Magnus Bane, sitting across the room with his legs elegantly crossed. He seemed to sense Dahlia looking at him and glanced over with a wink.

"I idolize him," said Matthew sorrowfully.

Lucie patted his hand. "I know."

Matthew looked amused.

"Welcome, everyone." Will's voice echoed through the room; the lectern had been carved with runes to amplify his voice. "I've just received word that the Consul has been delayed but is on her way. It would be ideal if everyone could be patient a bit longer and refrain from breaking any of the valuable objects in the Sanctuary."

He shot a meaning glance at Cecily, who made a sisterly face at him.

"In the meantime—"

Will broke off in surprise as Charles joined him at the lectern. He wore a stiffly formal frock coat, his red hair slicked back and gleaming. "I'd just like to thank everyone for placing their trust in me as acting Consul," he said, his voice echoing off the walls. "As you all know, the antidote to this awful disease was developed in my father's laboratory at Grosvenor Square."

If Charles had been hoping for a round of applause, it did not come: the room was silent.

Charles cleared his throat. "But of course there are many brave Shadowhunters who should be acknowledged, in addition to myself. Christopher Lightwood, of course, as well as Cordelia Carstairs and James Herondale."

Tatiana Blackthorn shot to her feet. The bird on her hat trembled, but in that moment she did not seem ridiculous, as she often did. She seemed menacing. "James Herondale is a fraud!" she cried in a hoarse voice. "He has ties to demons! No doubt he worked in concert with them to orchestrate these attacks!"

Lucie made a choking sound. A murmur of astonishment raced around the room. Inquisitor Bridgestock looked absolutely flabbergasted. Dahlia looked over at James: he sat frozen, utterly expressionless. Christopher had his hand on James's shoulder, but James had not moved.

Matthew's hands closed into fists. "How dare she—"

Tatiana seemed to tower over the crowd. "Deny it, boy!" she shouted at James. "Your grandfather was a demon."

Surely Tatiana couldn't know about Belial? Surely she was only repeating what the whole Clave was already aware of—that Tessa was a warlock, and therefore, James had demon blood.

James kicked his chair back and stood, turning to face the room. Behind him, Will and Tessa stood stunned; Tessa was gripping Will's shoulder, as if entreating him not to move. "I will not deny it," he said, in a voice that dripped contempt. "Everyone knows it. It is true, it has always been true, and no one here has tried to hide it."

"Don't you see?" Tatiana raged. "He conspired with the enemy! I have been collecting evidence of his plots—"

"Then where is that evidence?" demanded Will. He was flushed with anger. "Damn it, Tatiana—"

"It was in my house," she hissed. "In my house in Idris, I gathered it all, but then this boy, this demon's spawn, burned my house to the ground! Why else would he do that, save to protect his secret?"

"Tatiana," Gabriel Lightwood said, rising to his feet.  "Tatiana, this makes no sense. Why have we heard nothing about this fire if it transpired? In fact, how do you know about it?"

Tatiana's face twisted with rage. "You've never believed in me, Gabriel. Even when we were children, you didn't believe anything I said. You know as well as I do that there is a Portal between Blackthorn Manor and Chiswick House. I went through this morning to get some papers and found the manor a smoldering heap of ash!"

It was Gideon's turn to rise up. Recent grief had cut deep lines into his face; the look he turned on his sister was flinty. "That bloody house was a firetrap because you refused to look after it. It was going to burn down eventually. It is very ill done for you to try to drag James into this, very ill done!"

"Enough! All of you!" shouted Bridgestock. He had moved to the lectern, and his voice echoed loudly through the room. "James Herondale, is there any truth to what Mrs. Blackthorn says?"

Dahlia winced.

"Of course there isn't—" Will began.

Tatiana's voice rose to a scream. "He told Grace he did it. Ask her what James said!"

"Oh God," whispered Matthew. His hands gripped the arms of his chair, his fingers white. Lucie had dropped her pen and notebook: her hands were shaking. Dahlia's heart dropped to her boots.

Grace began to get to her feet. Her eyes were cast down. Someone in the crowd shouted that a trial by the Mortal Sword would clear things up; Tessa was still clutching Will, but looked sick to her stomach.

James was the color of old ashes, his eyes blazing, his head thrown back. He would not defend himself, she thought. He would never explain.

And then there was Grace. What if Grace intended to tell the truth? Charles would throw her over just as he had done to Ariadne. He had no loyalty. She would be easy prey for her mother, then. She had so very much to lose.

"The fact is," Grace began, in a voice barely above a whisper, "the—the truth is that James—"

Cordelia bolted to her feet. "The truth is that James Herondale did not burn down Blackthorn Manor last night," she said, in a voice so loud Dahlia was sure they could probably hear her on Fleet Street. "James cannot have been in Idris. He was with me. In my bedroom. All night."

The gasp of shock that went around the room would almost have been satisfying, under other circumstances. Sona slumped against Alastair, burying her head in his chest. Heads whipped around; curious eyes fixed on Cordelia. Dahlia wanted to bang her head against a wall. Anna gazed at her with a dumbfounded look. Will and Tessa seemed thunderstruck.

Matthew put his face in his hands.

Bridgestock was staring at Cordelia in amazement. "Are you quite sure about this, Miss Carstairs?"

Cordelia lifted her chin.

 Dahlia was sure she knew that she was compromised now, in the eyes of all the Enclave. More than compromised, she was ruined. She would never be married. She would be lucky if she was received at parties. Shadowhunters were less strict than mundanes about such matters, but a young woman who spent the night alone with a young man, in her bedroom no less, was not marriage material.

Dahlia felt sick.

"Obviously, I am sure," she said. "Which aspect do you think I am confused about?"

Bridgestock flushed. Rosamund Wentworth looked as if today had turned out to be her birthday. 

Tatiana was spluttering. "Grace, tell them—"

In a clear voice, Grace said, "I'm sure Cordelia is correct. James must be innocent."

Tatiana screamed. It was a horrible sound, as if she had been stabbed. "No!" she wailed. "If it wasn't James, it was one of you!" She stabbed her finger at the crowd, identifying the Thieves. "Matthew Fairchild, Thomas Lightwood, Christopher Lightwood, Dahlia Bridgestock! One of them, one of them is responsible, I know it!"

Murmurs of speculation swept through the crowd. Bridgestock was calling out for order. As the chaos mounted, the front doors of the Sanctuary opened, and Charlotte Fairchild, the Consul, marched into the room.

She was a small woman, her dark brown hair gathered into a simple knot. There was gray at her temples. She wore a high-necked white blouse and a dark skirt; everything about her was neat and small, from her boots to her gold-rimmed spectacles. "I'm sorry to arrive late," she said, in the practiced tone of someone used to pitching her voice loudly to be heard over a room full of men. "I was planning to be here earlier, but I was required to remain in Idris in order to investigate a fire that claimed Blackthorn Manor last night."

"I told you! I told you they did it!" Tatiana cried.

Charlotte pressed her lips together. "Mrs. Blackthorn, I spent several hours with a group of Alicante guards, picking through the wreckage of your home. There were many items present that were associated with and imbued with necromantic magic and demonic magic, both of which are forbidden to Shadowhunters."

Tatiana's face folded up like old paper. "I had to have those things!" she wailed, in a voice like a broken child's. "I had to use those things, I had to have them, for Jesse—my son died and none of you would help me! He died, and none of you would help me bring him back!" She gazed around the room with wet, hateful eyes. "Grace, why won't you help me?" she shrieked, and crumpled to the floor.

Grace picked her way across the room to Tatiana. She laid a hand on her adoptive mother's shoulder, but her face was stony. Dahlia could see no sympathy in it for Tatiana's plight.

"I can confirm what Charlotte says." It was Magnus Bane, who had gotten gracefully to his feet. "In January Mrs. Blackthorn attempted to hire me to help bring her son back from the dead. I declined, but saw much evidence of her dedication to the study of the necromantic arts. What many would call black magic. I should have said something then, but my heart was wrung with pity. Many wish to bring back their beloved dead. Few ever get very far." He sighed. "When such objects fall into the hands of the untutored, it can be dangerous. Certainly that explains the tragic and entirely accidental fire that destroyed Mrs. Blackthorn's manor house."

There were yet more exclamations among the crowd. "Laying it on a bit thick, isn't he?" Lucie murmured.

"Hardly matters—as long as the Clave believes it," Dahlia said.

Will inclined his head to Magnus; Dahlia had the feeling that there was a friendship there that went back a long way. Amid the uproar, Charlotte gestured at Inquisitor Bridgestock to take Tatiana into custody.

♕

Matthew had dragged Dahlia away and locked them in his room in the institute, his head was in his hands and his eyes were wild. Dahlia was merely amused despite the current situation.

"What are you worried about, Matthew?" she asked, settling down on his bed.

"James must help Daisy, the most likely solution would be marriage. Oh my Raziel, Dahlia I will not let his get married alone." Matthew said.

Dahlia nearly fell down, "Matthew how in the blazes are you going to-" she started.

"We shall get married whenever they get married, we are technically engaged though I am sure no one remembers because of all the commotion, but maybe I could propose once more? Maybe it wouldn't seem so sudden if it seemed like we had planned this??" Matthew panicked.

Dahlia sighed, "You better propose dramatically Fairchild, or we could go and barge into the Drawing Room and see what's going on there." she suggested.

Matthew seemed to nod, and follow after Dahlia quietly.

As they made their way to the commotion, Dahlia realized what marrying Matthew would mean. If they were married, they would live together. They would have their own house. An untold level of intimacy. They would go to sleep in the same place and wake in the same place.

Her heart started pounding wildly in her chest, she wouldn't be able to bear it. She would crumble. She would become the dust and shadow she was told she was made of. 

But a voice told her she wanted that, it was something she desired. She pushed it away. How could she possibly want that ?

 Dahlia pushed the door down, obviously inturuptting something.

Will came through the door, his face like thunder. Tessa followed him, more sedately, and Sona came after her. All wore expressions of grim fury. Well, perhaps not Tessa—she looked more worried, Cordelia thought, and more resigned.

"Tatiana has been taken into custody by Bridgestock and the Consul," Will announced, his blue eyes icy. "Under other circumstances, this would be a great relief, considering her false accusations against you, James."

James held up a hand. "Father, I understand why you are angry, but—"

"James." Will snapped the word like a whip. There was more than anger in his eyes, though—there was a deep hurt that made Cordelia want to cringe. She could only imagine the pain James was feeling. "I can't express how disappointed Tessa and I are in you. We have taught you better than this, both in how you treat women, and in how you own up to your mistakes."

"Oh, Layla," Sona said. Her gaze was bleak. "Che kar kardi?"

"Enough!" James moved protectively in front of Cordelia, but Cordelia stepped forward to stand next to him.

"Father," said James. "Mother. Mrs. Carstairs. I will hear anything you have to say, and apologize for all that I have done wrong, but first let me present to you my promised wife."

The three adults exchanged surprised glances. "You mean..." Tessa began.

James smiled. He actually looked quite happy, Cordelia thought, but she could sense the Mask going up again, like a sheet of glass. She saw the way Tessa looked at James and wondered if she sensed it too. "Cordelia has done me the honor of agreeing to marry me."

Cordelia held out her hand, on which the Herondale ring gleamed. "We are both," she said, "very happy, and we hope you will be happy too."

She glanced at her mother. To her surprise, Sona's eyes were troubled. But I did as you wished, Mâmân, she cried out silently. I made a good marriage.

Both Will and Tessa were looking at Sona, as if waiting for her reaction.

A broad smile spread across Will's face. "Then we have no choice but to give our blessing too. Cordelia Carstairs," he said, "the Carstairs and the Herondales will be bonded even more closely now. If James could have chosen his wife from all the women in all the worlds that are or ever were, I would wish for no other."

Tessa laughed. "Will! You cannot compliment our new daughter only on the chance of her last name!"

Will was grinning like a boy. "Wait until I tell Jem—"

The door burst open, and Lucie spilled in. "I was just listening at the door," she announced, with no shame whatsoever. "Daisy! You are to be my sister!"

Matthew came in simply moments before Alastair did, "Oh but there is more." he said, smiling softly.

James looked over at him curiously. Dahlia held up her hand where the ring gleamed, and wiggled her fingers. Cordelia gasped at the same time as Lucie. 

Lucie rushed to Dahlia with Cordelia in her hands. "Oh, this is all so very, very, very exciting!"

The three girls jumped up and down in excitement, for once Dahlia felt like she belonged, but she knew not to get too used to the feeling.

Emotions were dangerous, Dahlia was careful not to get tangled in them.

Ariadne burst in. "There was squealing." she said as if it explained everything in the world.

Dahlia whirled around a bright smile adorned on her face, it was forced but it Ariadne noticed she didn't say.

"Didi! Look! I'm getting married, oh you are going to be lonely now." Dahlia teased. Ariadne rolled her eyes.

"As if, I have Grace for company. I don't need you." she said, airily. Dahlia rolled her eyes.

"Grace can't hold a candle to me." she said, with confidence. Ariadne laughed, "That, my dear, it very true. I shall miss you terribly, but that is sorrow for another day. Come here." she said holding out her hands. Dahlia embraced Ariadne fiercely.

Ariadne let go of Dahlia holding her to a shoulder's length away. "Matthew, if you hurt her I will kill you myself." Ariadne warned.

Matthew looked at her with lazy amusement, "Wouldn't dream of it." he said.

♕