♕

By the time they reached the carriages waiting for them outside the Market, Matthew had produced his refilled flask from inside his coat and was drinking steadily. He stumbled getting up into the carriage and refused James's offer of help, batting his hand away before collapsing onto the velvet seat and breaking into a rousing chorus of "I Could Love You in a Steam Heat Flat."

Dahlia had her hand in his covered by the skirts of her dress. She squeezed it occasionally, while speaking to Christopher.

The carriage stopped abruptly, The Merry Thieves exchanged a glance and spilled out the carriage, Dahlia saw Cordelia and Lucie with their weapons out and fighting a demon.

Dahlia unsheathed Caliburn, griping the silver handle tightly, her feet crunching against the snow.

"Hauras demons!" called James, who wore an expression that mingled annoyance and anger. Hauras demons were pests. Sometimes called scamp demons, they were fast and ugly—scaled and horned, with vicious talons—but only about the size of small wolves.

James threw a knife, it flew like silver death from his hand, severing a Hauras demon's head from its body. Ichor splattered, and the two halves of the demon puffed into nothingness; the other scamp demons shrieked and laughed. 

"Ooh! Pests!" Lucie cried in outrage as two of the creatures caught at her skirts, tearing at the velvet rosettes. With no room to swing her weapon, she began to club at them with the handle of her axe.

One advanced at Dahlia, tearing at her her dress. She glared angrily at the demon. "Bitch." she hissed, stabbing it with Caliburn. The demon spasmed, then disappeared.

One leaped at Matthew, who jammed a chalikar into its throat with both hands, not even bothering to throw it. The demon crumpled, gurgling, and disappeared. Another came from behind; Matthew turned—stumbled, and slipped. He went down, slamming hard into the icy ground.

Dahlia ran to him, but James was there before her, steadying him to his feet. She caught a glimpse of Matthew's white face before he drew a seraph blade from his belt: it blazed up, its brightness searing a line across Dahlia's vision. She could see Christopher laying about with his blade, James with a long knife. The night was filled with shrieks and hissing, their feet churning the snowy ground into a stinking mess of ice and ichor. 

Lucie screamed, Dahlia spun around as the ground between them, all ice and dirt, erupted. Something long, slithering, and scaled burst from it, scattering clods of earth.

A Naga demon. Dahlia had seen them only once in her life, but then again she had been six. This one had a long snake's body and a flat, arrow-shaped head, split by a wide mouth lined with yellow, spiky teeth. Its eyes were black saucers.

Dahlia heard Matthew give a hoarse shout: she looked over to see the boys trapped behind a wall of Hauras demons. The Naga hissed, curled, and lunged toward Lucie, who leaped aside just in time, her hand axe going flying; she fumbled for a seraph blade—

Dahlia leaped forward as the whole world seemed to turn to sparkling silver. Everything had gone slow and still—only she was striking like lightning, like a rain of silver and gold. The Naga writhed as the blade stabbed into its side. Ichor splattered onto Dahlia's hands.

She spun as it rose above her, its flat head outspread like a cobra's. It swayed back and forth, then plunged its head toward her, faster than sparks rising from a fire. Dahlia whirled as it opened its saw-toothed mouth, and plunged her blade upward, stabbing through the roof of its mouth. 

Cordelia was a few steps behind her, stabbing the demon on the other side, nearly immobilizing it. Dahlia fell away from the demon and onto the snow.

It reared back, spraying ichor: it turned to slide away through the snow, but Cordelia gave chase. She shot after the slithering demon, the ground blurring under her feet. She drew alongside it, lifted Cortana, and brought it down in a clean sweep that cut through scale and bone, severing the Naga's body in half.

A gush of steam rose from the body. The head and tail twitched before dissolving in a wet, stinking mess that soaked into the ground. The boys broke away from the Hauras demons, Dahlia staggered up.

Matthew was about to rush to her when a shrill scream split the air. Dahlia stared.

It was not a human noise, nor was a human making it. The Hauras demons were looking at Cordelia, their eyes wide.

"Paladin!" the Hauras demon wheezed. "Paladin! We dare not touch!" 

Cordelia stared. A cry rose from the other Hauras demons. They began to scatter. James dashed straight towards Cordelia, Matthew staggered to Dahlia, staring at the blade.

They screeched something to Cordelia and with a quivering bow, the demon turned and ran, joining its fellows in slinking retreat.

Matthew ran to Dahlia, stumbling in the snow, and hugged her. His arms around her were strong and solid; she could feel the swift hammering of his heart. He pressed his cheek against hers.

He let her go, looking almost abashed. "I saw that Naga demon rear back to attack you," he said, his voice low. "I thought—"

"I'm fine, Math. I'm fine." she whispered. "No, no your not, your covered in blood. Where did it even come from? Are you wounded?" he asked her frantically, looking over her.

Dahlia jolted, and started cursing herself in her mind.

"Uh, I accidentally impaled myself with Caliburn, I-I'm fine." She muttered. Matthew stared at her with wide green eyes. "Dahlia. You impaled yourself, how- bloody hell are you okay?"

Dahlia looked at him sheepishly, "It's at my thigh, I'll look at it later Matthew. I'm fine, stop looking over me. Cordelia-"

"She's fine, forget her, are you sure you're all right Dahlia?" Matthew asked her. Oh Matthew, if only it were that easy, Dahlia thought sadly.

"Yes, I'm quiet all right."

"What was that about?" said Christopher, who had just arrived with Lucie. "I saw that Hauras demon shout at Cordelia, and then they all raced off like the devil was after them."

Matthew looked at Christopher for a second then his eyes flickered to Dahlia. He narrowed his eyes at her.

Dahlia bit her lip, looking away and ran to Cordelia, despite Matthew's shouts for her.

"I—I've no idea," Cordelia was saying as Dahlia neared her. "I suppose it was Cortana. The Hauras demon looked terrified of it."

 "Perhaps word has spread that Cortana dealt a wound to Belial," Lucie said. "Your sword's reputation precedes you!"

Matthew had returned to the carriages to soothe the horses' nerves as they all returned. Dahlia kept asking Cordelia over and over again if she was fine, to which Cordelia only replied asking if she was alright. 

It had been decided that Christopher would ride home with Daisy and James, as the Consul's house was only a few blocks from Curzon Street and Kit wished to use the lab there to study the pithos. Lucie and Dahlia would go with Matthew.

They settled Matthew's carriage as they rattled out of Nelson Square, Matthew complaining all the while that traffic in London was bad enough without demons leaping into perfectly decent people's vehicles. Dahlia knew he was merely venting his feelings and didn't expect an answer, so she didn't provide one, just looked at him affectionately. His blond hair was disheveled from the fight, his jacket torn. He was looking the part of a romantic hero, if a slightly dissipated one.

The carriage lurched as they turned a corner, Dahlia who was staring at the shining moon realized Matthew had his head in his hands.

"Matthew, are you quite all right?" Lucie asked.

"Right as rain," Matthew said unconvincingly, his words muffled by his hands.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Lucie once more.

"What it is like," Matthew said slowly, "to be entirely undeserving of the person you love most in the world."

Dahlia turned to look out the window once more.

"What a very sort of novelish complaint," Lucie said, after a moment. "I don't suppose you want to tell me about it."

"Certainly not."

 "All right, then, I have to tell you something." 

Matthew looked up. His eyes were dry, if a little red-rimmed. "Oh, Raziel," he said, "that never portends anything good." 

"I'm not going home," Lucie informed him. "I'd planned to stop there and then leave again, but there's no time now. I need to get to Limehouse, and you're going to take me there."

"Limehouse?" Matthew looked incredulous. He ran his fingers through his curls, making them stand out even more wildly than before. "Lucie, please tell me you aren't going back to that sailcloth factory." 

"Fear not. I'm going to Hypatia Vex's new magic shop. I'm meeting Anna and Ariadne there, so you needn't trouble yourself that I'll be unattended."

 Dahlia raised an eyebrow, "Why Ka-Ariadne?"

Lucie brushed off her comment.

"Oh, sometime." Lucie gestured vaguely. "I suppose you don't have to drive me, Math, but if you let me walk to Limehouse on my own and I am murdered, James will be very annoyed with you."

Matthew's face fell. "James is already very annoyed with me."

Dahlia sighed quietly and laced her hand into his.

 "Why is that?" Lucie asked.

"Are you going to tell me what this magic shop business is about?" 

"No," Lucie said pleasantly.

 "Then I suppose we both have our secrets." Matthew turned and opened the window to tell the driver to head toward Limehouse. By the time he popped back into the carriage proper, he had a curious gleam in his eye. "Don't you think it's odd, Luce, that James is constantly tormented by Belial, and yet Belial doesn't seem to have any interest in you?" 

"I do not believe that Belial has read and understood Mrs.Wollstone craft's Vindication of the Rights of Woman. He is interested in James because James is a boy, and not interested in me because I am a girl. I suspect that Belial would rather possess a tortoise than a woman." 

"In that case, you should count yourself fortunate to be a member of the fairer sex."

"But I am not fortunate," Lucie said, her joking tone gone. "I would rather have Belial's attention focused on me, for James always tends to blame himself for things, and I hate to see him in pain."

Matthew smiled at her tiredly. "You and your brother are lucky, Lucie. I fear that if Charles had to choose between me or him for possession, I'd be a very well-dressed demon." 

The carriage was crossing the Thames, and the cold air outside brought with it the smell of river water.

"Lucie," Dahlia said softly. Lucie looked at her looking a bit jolted at her voice, "Yes?"

"Would you mind if I tag along? I've wanted to speak with Ariadne for nearly an age now." Dahlia said.

A flicker of doubt flickered in her eyes but she nodded, "Of course."

Dahlia smiled a bit, looking back out the window.

♕

Matthew had insisted she come home with him to tend to her 'wound', but Dahlia had told him was going to meet her sister. Ariadne would tend to it, he had let them leave reluctantly and disappeared with the rattle of the carriage.

Hypatia Vex's magic shop was in a large, one-story brick building between a shipping concern and a damp little restaurant serving coffee and sandwiches to a clientele of longshoremen. The exterior of the shop resembled a small, disused factory; mundanes passing by along the Limehouse street would see only a padlocked door with brass letters above it, small windows filmed with dirt and grime.

Dahlia knew that long ago, the place had been a curiosity shop owned by a faerie named Sallows. It had fallen into disuse after his death, but now the floors had been sanded and given a fresh coat of wax, and the walls were painted in scarlet and blue. A series of floor-to-ceiling shelves were already filled with merchandise, and a long display case served as the shop counter. Behind it stood Hypatia, dressed in a flowing purple gown with black silk frog closures. She had a pair of small spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose and was going through a stack of bills and invoices, muttering under her breath. 

Anna and Ariadne had already arrived—Anna was leaning against the counter, examining her gloves as if searching for a flaw in the leather. Ariadne, dressed in gear, was looking in fascination at a dollhouse on one of the shelves in which small, living dolls—faeries, perhaps?—darted from room to room, playing tiny musical instruments and sleeping in Lilliputian beds.

"Lucie," Anna said, looking up with a smile. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd read my note. You've brought Dahlia too, lovely."

Ariadne turned around at the sound of Dahlia's name, she smiled at her younger sister holding her arms out. Dahlia hugged her fiercely. "Oh I missed you." she murmured, letting her go. Ariadne smiled affectionately, then glanced at the blood covering Dahlia's dress. 

"There was a encounter with demons and I just stabbed myself." Dahlia said, waving her hand. Ariande sighed.

"I did—only I was a bit delayed at the Shadow Market," said Lucie.

"What an exciting life you do lead," Anna said. "Now, mind your manners. Hypatia thinks the workmen have been cheating her, and she isn't in a good mood." 

"I can hear you," Hypatia snapped, scowling. "Never hire gnome workmen, Bridgestock. They will overcharge you for lumber." 

"It's Fairchild now." Dahlia said almost sheepishly. Hypatia waved her hand absently.

"Madame Vex," Lucie said, "we've come because we need your help."

Hypatia looked up from her bills. Some of her cloudlike hair had escaped the colorful scarf she'd used to tie it back, and there were ink stains on her hands. "Do you Shadowhunters ever come for any other reason? And I see you sent Anna to wheedle me." She eyed Anna. "While I am quite fond of her, the last time we dallied, your friends ran off with my Pyxis box. It was an antique."

"It had a demon in it," Anna pointed out. "We probably did you a favor taking it safely off your hands."

"The demon," Hypatia said, "was also an antique. Regardless, I am not available for dalliances at the moment. I have a gentleman caller." 

Anna had finished her inspection of her glove. She smiled at Hypatia, and Dahlia marveled—despite the Pyxis, despite Hypatia's gentleman caller, she could see the warlock soften just a bit. Anna's charm was a magical thing. "Speaking of gentleman callers," she said. "There's something I brought to show you." From inside her jacket, Anna produced a small silver snuffbox, engraved with the initials MB in blocky script. "This belongs to our mutual friend Magnus Bane. He has been looking for it for quite sometime." 

"You stole Magnus Bane's snuffbox?" said Ariadne. "Anna, that could not possibly be a good idea. He'll set you on fire." 

 "Magic fire." Dahlia added, with a bit of pizzazz.

"Of course I didn't," said Anna, turning the small box over in her hands. "As it happens, my boot maker—a fine gentleman, one of the Tanner family—once had une liaison passionnée with Magnus. Boot makers are a surprisingly tempestuous bunch. When things ended badly between them, the boot maker pinched Magnus's snuffbox, knowing he was fond of it." She smiled at Hypatia. "I thought you might like to give it back to him. I'm sure he would be most grateful." 

Hypatia raised a dark eyebrow. "And how did you know that Mr. Bane is my gentleman caller? I thought we'd been rather discreet."

"I know everything," said Anna matter-of-factly. 

Hypatia eyed the snuffbox. "I can see that you are not offering me something for nothing. What do you want?" 

"To speak with you about an issue having to do with warlocks," Anna said. "An old issue, recently—disinterred, so to speak. The death of a Shadowhunter boy named Jesse Blackthorn."

Shadowhunter boy named Jesse Blackthorn. "Hypatia looked alarmed. "You think a warlock harmed a Shadowhunter child? You can't imagine I'd—"

"Please don't mistake our intent," Ariadne said in an even, soothing tone. "We are not looking to bring trouble to anyone. Jesse Blackthorn is long dead. We only wish to know what happened to him."

Hypatia stared suspiciously at the four of them for a long moment, then threw up her hands with a sigh. She pushed her papers aside, searching the counter until she found a dish of candy pastilles and selected one, not bothering to offer any to the others. "So tell me, what is it you think this warlock was hired to do?"

"You know about first runes?" Lucie said, and Hypatia nodded, looking bored. "Most children get through the procedure easily. A few suffer ill effects. Jesse Blackthorn died in agony." She swallowed hard. "And—we are told a warlock may have been involved in what happened to him."

 Hypatia popped the sweet into her mouth. "Would his mother have been a woman with a peculiar Russian sort of name?" 

"Yes," Lucie said eagerly. "Tatiana."

Hypatia regarded them over her tented hands. "Some years ago she sought a warlock's help in putting protection spells on her son. He had just been born, and she did not want to involve the Silent Brothers or Iron Sisters. She claimed she didn't trust Shadowhunters. Can't blame her, but none of us wanted to get involved—none of us except Emmanuel Gast." 

Emmanuel Gast, Dahlia remembered the ghost Lucie had been talking too when they found about the Manticore.

"The warlock who was killed during the summer?" said Ariadne, glancing briefly at Dahlia. 

"That's the one." Hypatia seemed unperturbed. "He was quite corrupt—the warlock council eventually had to forbid him to practice magic. 

"So is it possible," said Ariadne, "that he placed the protection spells on Jesse Blackthorn, but he did it incorrectly? They're meant to be done by the Silent Brothers."

"And that caused the first rune to malfunction somehow? A clever thought," said Anna, and the two girls looked at each other, seeming to enjoy a moment of shared detecting.

Maybe it was more than detecting. Ariadne gazed at Anna with unabashed longing and Anna there a softness in the way she looked back at Ariadne. Dahlia fought the urge to smile.

Dahlia glanced away and caught Hypatia Vex smirking again. "There you go, Shadowhunters," she said. "A bit of assistance, in exchange for a snuffbox. Remember that I was helpful the next time the Institute needs to hire a warlock."

"Oh, we will indeed remember it," said Lucie.

Hypatia made a shooing gesture. "Now go. Having Shadowhunters about isn't good for business." 

Dahlia forced a pleasant smile onto her face as she followed Anna and Ariadne out to the street. "Anna, could I steal my sister away for a moment?" Dahlia asked clasping Ariadne's hand. Anna shrugged.

Dahlia dragged Ariadne away, "Kamala, listen to me, there was a ghost, do not question why I was speaking to ghosts, it said I was someone's chosen one, specifically a boy's. Do you have any idea-"

Ariadne quieted her, "His chosen one? There are many 'he's'. Raziel, Lucifer, Princes of Hell, Angel of Heaven."

Dahlia's eyes widened. "Oh dear god."

"Do you need to go home and clean something up? You are covered in blood, I could put an iratze-"

"No, no, I'm fine. I just realized something."

"Care to share?"

"Later, I must get back home. Did you know Evan was in town?" Dahlia asked, as they joined Anna.

"He stopped over yesterday, he was quiet upset, something about a writer's block and being disappointed in your existence."

Dahlia smiled ruefully. "He's always disappointed by my existence seeing I live a much more fabulous lifestyle than him." she said, flicking her hair back.

Ariadne laughed, shaking her head. "Go away, Kash."

Dahlia pretended to be hit by an arrow. "You do not love me. I understand. You go have fun with Anna, I must go mourn my sanity in the arms of Eugenia!" Dahlia cried, placing the back of her hand on her forehead.

"Genie would stab you right now, but be my guest."

"Alastair then."

"I haven't had the pleasure of knowing him well, but is he not in the Sanctuary with Thomas?"

Dahlia sighed sadly. "Father is a bastard."

"That he is sister, that he is." Ariadne sighed.

♕

"Thomas!" Dahlia cried, hugging the tall boy. Thomas staggered a little at the force of her hug. She spun around and embraced Alastair with equal enthu.

"You two look tired. Have you slept? Eaten?" she fretted, only for Matthew to pull her away.

"Your father is here." he said quietly in her ear. Dahlia drew back.

"I will talk to you later, you two better have slept." Dahlia rambled, letting Matthew turn them away and outside as Maurice entered the room glaring at Matthew and staring at Dahlia.

She rolled her eyes, pausing at seeing him then going back to rambling about healthy sleeping habits and food.

As they were leaving Christopher joined them, smiling at Dahlia. Dahlia couldn't count the number of adults who had come up to her this morning and squeezed her shoulder, assuring him that everything would turn out fine for Thomas. Of course, there were also the others—those who stared accusingly andshot dark, suspicious glances. 

It made Dahlia want to murder them.

"I can't say I care for leaving Thomas behind," Christopher said, castinga mournful look over his shoulder as they were shepherded into theInstitute's main entryway. The double doors were open, and even moreEnclave members were massed in the courtyard. Dahlia could see thePouncebys and Wentworths, all scowling. 

"We've got no choice, Kit," said Matthew. "At least Will and my motherare there along with Bridgestock. And Tom's innocent."

"I know," Christopher said. He glanced around at the packed crowd andshivered a little. Dahlia knew he noticed more than he let on; he was Kit after all. "D'youthink James is all right?"

"Magnus wouldn'tlet anything happen to him," Matthew said. "I'm sure he'll be here anyminute and can tell us all about last night." He dropped his voice."Journeying into the dream-realm and all that."

"Well, I hope the pithos was helpful," Christopher said, shoving hishands into the pockets of his coat, turning to her. "I still can't figure out why anyonewould want an object that picks up runes and pops them onto someoneelse." 

"What are you talking about?" Dahlia asked bewildered. 

"Well," said Christopher, "if you were a Shadowhunter, you could justdraw your runes on yourself, and if you weren't, you couldn't have runes atall without becoming Forsaken—"

"Yes, Kit, but what are you talking about?" 

Christopher sighed. "Dahlia, I know it was very late when you came toGrosvenor Square last night, but you must listen when I explain things. It'snot all boring trivia, you know."

Dahlia shook her head vigorously. "I was with Kamala and Anna, what in name of Raziel Kit-"

"You did, though," Christopher insisted, blinking in puzzlement. "Youtold me that James needed the stele, so I gave it to you." 

"Christopher, I don't know who you gave the stele to last night," she saidurgently, "but it wasn't me." 

Christopher went pale. "I don't understand. It was you, it looked just likeyou. If it wasn't you ... oh, God, who did I give the stele to? And to whatpurpose?" 

♕