Clockwork Prince (The Infernal Devices 2)

He swept his arm about as if to encompass the portraits, the landing, and odd, lonely Aloysius Starkweather, all in one gesture. "Well, no wonder the old man thinks he has the right to throw us out of the place. "

"Mad as hops, my aunt would have said. shall we go down to dinner?"

In a rare show of gentility, Will had offered his arm. Tessa hadnt looked at him as shed taken it. Will dressed for dinner was handsome enough to take away her breath, and shed had the feeling shed need her wits about her.

Jem had already been waiting in the dining room when theyd arrived, and Tessa had settled herself beside him to await their host. His place had been set, his plate fil ed with stew, even his wineglass fil ed with dark red wine, but there had been no sign of him. It was Will who had shrugged first and begun to eat, though hed soon looked as if he wished he hadnt.

"What is this?" he went on now, spearing an unfortunate object on a fork and raising it to eye level. "This . . . this . . . thing?"

"A parsnip?" Jem suggested.

"A parsnip planted in Satans own garden," said Will. He glanced about. "I dont suppose theres a dog I could feed it to. "

"There dont seem to be any pets about," Jem-who loved all animals, even the inglorious and il -tempered Church-observed.

"Probably all poisoned by parsnips," said Will.

"Oh, dear," Tessa said sadly, laying her fork down. "And I was so hungry too. "

"Theres always the dinner rol s," said Will, pointing to a covered basket.

"Though I warn you, theyre as hard as stones. You could use them to kil black beetles, if any beetles bother you in the middle of the night. "

Tessa made a face and took a swig of her wine. It was as sour as vinegar.

Will set his fork down and began cheerful y, in the manner of Edward Lears Book of Nonsense: "There once was a lass from New York Who found herself hungry in York.

But the bread was like rocks, The parsnips shaped like-"

"You cant rhyme York with York," interrupted Tessa. "Its cheating. "

"Shes right, you know," said Jem, his delicate fingers playing with the stem of his wineglass. "Especial y with fork being so obviously the correct choice-"

"Good evening. " The hulking shadow of Aloysius Stark-weather loomed up suddenly in the doorway; Tessa wondered with a flush of embarrassment how long hed been standing there. "Mr. Herondale, Mr. Carstairs, Miss, ah -"

"Gray," Tessa said. "Theresa Gray. "

"Indeed. " Starkweather made no apologies, just settled himself heavily at the head of the table. He was carrying a square, flat box, the sort bankers used to keep their papers in, which he set down beside his plate. With a flash of excitement Tessa saw that there was a year marked on it-1825- and even better, three sets of initials. JTS, A ES, A HM.

"No doubt your young miss Will be pleased to know Ive buckled to her demands and searched the archives all day and half last night besides,"

Starkweather began in an aggrieved tone. It took Tessa a moment to realize that in this case, "young miss" meant Charlotte. "Its lucky, she is, that my father never threw anything out. And the moment I saw the papers, I remembered. " He tapped his temple. "Eighty-nine years, and I never forget a thing. You tell old Wayland that when he talks about replacing me. "

"We surely will, sir," said Jem, his eyes dancing.

Starkweather took a hearty gulp of his wine and made a face. "By the Angel, this stuffs disgusting. " He set the glass down and began pul ing papers from the box. "What we have here is an application for Reparations on behalf of two warlocks. John and Anne Shade. A married couple.

"Now, heres the odd bit," the old man went on. "The filing was done by their son, Axel Hol ingworth Mortmain, twenty-two years old. Now, of course warlocks are barren-"

Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes slanting away from Tessas.

"This son was adopted," said Jem.

"Shouldnt be all owed, that," said Starkweather, taking another slug of the wine he had pronounced disgusting. His cheeks were beginning to redden.

"Like giving a human child to wolves to raise. Before the Accords-"

"If there are any clues to his whereabouts," said Jem, gently trying to steer the conversation back onto its track. "We have very little time-"

"Very well, very well," snapped Starkweather. "Theres little information about your precious Mortmain in here. More about the parents. It seems suspicion fell on them when it was discovered that the male warlock, John Shade, was in possession of the Book of the White. Quite a powerful spel book, you understand; disappeared from the London Institutes library under suspicious circumstances back in 1752. The book specializes in binding and unbinding spel s-tying the soul to the body, or untying it, as the case may be. Turned out the warlock was trying to animate things. He was digging up corpses or buying them off medical students and replacing the more damaged bits with mechanisms. Then trying to bring them to life.

Necromancy-very much against the Law. And we didnt have the Accords in those days. An Enclave group swept in and slaughtered both warlocks. "

"And the child?" said Will. "Mortmain?"

"No hide nor hair of him," said Starkweather. "We searched, but nothing.

Assumed he was dead, til this turned up, cheeky as you please, demanding reparations. Even his address-"