Clockwork Prince (The Infernal Devices 2)

Jem hesitated.

"I swear on Raziels name," Will ground out, between his teeth. "Now let me up. "

Jem rol ed away and onto his feet; Will leaped up, pushing Jem aside, and, without a glance at Tessa, took off running-not toward the house but away from it, toward the mechanical creature on the ridge. Jem staggered for a moment, openmouthed, swore, and darted after him.

"Jem!" Tessa cried. But he was nearly out of earshot already, racing after Will. The automaton had vanished from view. Tessa said an unladylike word, hiked up her skirts, and gave chase.

It was not easy, running up a wet Yorkshire hil in heavy skirts, brambles tearing at her as she went. Practicing in her training clothes had given Tessa a new appreciation for why it was that men could move so quickly and cleanly, and could run so fast. The material of her dress weighed a ton, the heels on her boots caught on rocks as she ran, and her corset left her uncomfortably short of breath.

By the time she reached the top of the ridge, she was only just in time to see Jem, far ahead of her, disappear into a dark copse of trees. She looked around wildly but could see neither the road nor the Starkweathers carriage.

With her heart pounding, she dashed after him.

The copse was wide, spreading along the ridgeline. The moment Tessa ducked in among the trees, the light vanished; thick tree branches interweaving above her blocked out the sun. Feeling like Snow White fleeing into the forest, she looked around helplessly for a sign of where the boys had gone-broken branches, trodden leaves-and caught a shimmer of light on metal as the automaton surged out of the dark space between two trees and lunged for her.

She screamed, leaping away, and promptly tripped on her skirts. She went over backward, thumping painful y into the muddy earth. The creature stabbed one of its long insectile arms toward her. She rol ed aside and the metal arm sliced into the ground beside her. There was a fal en tree branch near her; her fingers

scrabbled at it, closed around it, and lifted it just as the creatures other arm swung toward her. She swept the branch between them, concentrating on the parrying and blocking lessons shed gotten from Gabriel.

But it was only a branch. The automatons metal arm sheared it in half. The end of the arm sprang open into a multi-fingered metal claw and reached for her throat. But before it could touch her, Tessa felt a violent fluttering against her col arbone. Her angel. She lay frozen as the creature jerked its claw back, one of its "fingers" leaking black fluid. A moment later it gave a high- pitched whine and col apsed backward, a freshet of more black liquid pouring from the hole that had been sliced clean through its chest.

Tessa sat up and stared.

Will stood with a sword in his hand, its hilt smeared with black. He was bareheaded, his thick dark hair tousled and tangled with leaves and bits of grass. Jem stood beside him, a witchlight stone blazing through his fingers.

As Tessa watched, Will slashed out with the sword again, cutting the automaton nearly in half. It crumpled to the muddy ground. Its insides were an ugly, horribly biological-looking mess of tubes and wires.

Jem looked up. His gaze met Tessas. His eyes were as silver as mirrors.

Will, despite having saved her, did not appear to notice she was there at all ; he drew back his foot and delivered a savage kick to the metal creatures side. His boot rang against metal.

"Tel us," he said through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here? Why are you following us?"

The automatons razor-lined mouth opened. Its voice when it spoke sounded like the buzzing and grinding of faulty machinery. "I . . . am . . . a . . . warning . . . from the Magister. "

"A warning to who? To the family in the manor? tell me!" Will looked as if he were going to kick the creature again; Jem laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It doesnt feel pain, Will," he said in a low voice. "And it says it has a message. Let it deliver it. "

"A warning . . . to you, Will Herondale . . . and to all Nephilim . . . " The creatures broken voice ground out, "The Magister says . . . you must cease your investigation. The past . . . is the past. Leave Mortmains buried, or your family will pay the price. Do not dare approach or warn them. If you do, they will be destroyed. "

Jem was looking at Will ; Will was still ashy-pale, but his cheeks were burning with rage. "How did Mortmain bring my family here? Did he threaten them? What has he done?"

The creature whirred and clicked, then began to speak again. "I . . . am . . . a . . . warning . . . from . . . "

Will snarled like an animal and slashed down with the sword. Tessa remembered Jessamine, in Hyde Park, tearing a faerie creature to ribbons with her delicate parasol. Will cut at the automaton until it was little more than ribbons of metal; Jem, throwing his arms around his friend and yanking him bodily backward, finally stopped him.

"Will," he said. "Will, enough. " He glanced up, and the other two fol owed his gaze. In the distance, through the trees, other shapes moved-more automatons, like this one. "We must go," Jem said. "If we want to draw them off, away from your family, we must leave. "

Will hesitated.

"Will, you know you cannot go near them," Jem said desperately. "If nothing else, it is the Law. If we bring danger to them, the Clave Will not move to help them in any way. They are not Shadowhunters anymore. Will. "

Slowly Will lowered his arm to his side. He stood, with one of Jems arms stil around his shoulders, staring down at the pile of scrap metal at his feet.

Black liquid dripped from the blade of the sword that dangled in his hand, and scorched the grass below.

Tessa exhaled. She hadnt realized shed been holding her breath until that moment. Will must have heard her, for he raised his head and his gaze met hers across the clearing. Something in it made her look away. Agony stripped so raw was not meant for her eyes.

* * * In the end they hid the remains of the destroyed automaton as swiftly as possible, by burying them in the soft earth beneath a rotting log. Tessa helped as best she could, hampered by her skirts. By the end of it her hands were as black with dirt and mud as Will s and Jems were.

None of them spoke; they worked in an eerie silence. When they were done, Will led the way out of the copse, guided by the light of Jems witchlight rune-stone. They emerged from the woods nearly at the road, where the Starkweather carriage waited, Gottshal dozing in the drivers seat as if only a few moments had passed since they had arrived.

If their appearances-filthy, smeared with mud, and with leaves caught in their hair-surprised the old man at all, he didnt show it, nor did he ask them if they had found what they had come looking for. He only grunted a Hello and waited for them to climb up into the carriage before he signaled the horses with a click of his tongue to turn around and begin the long journey back to York.

The curtains inside the carriage were drawn back; the sky was heavy with blackish clouds, pressing down on the horizon. "Its going to rain," Jem said, pushing damp silvery hair out of his eyes.

Will said nothing. He was staring out the window. His eyes were the color of the Arctic sea at night.

"Cecily," said Tessa in a much gentler voice than she was used to using with Will these days. He looked so miserable-as bleak and stark as the moors they were passing through. "Your sister-she looks like you. "

Will remained silent. Tessa, seated next to Jem on the hard seat, shivered a little. Her clothes were damp from the wet earth and branches, and the inside of the carriage was cold. Jem reached down and, finding a slightly ragged lap rug, settled it over the both of them. She could feel the heat that radiated off his body, as if he were feverish, and fought the urge to move closer to him to get warm.

"Are you cold, Will ?" she asked, but he only shook his head, his eyes stil staring, unseeing, at the passing countryside. She looked at Jem in desperation.

Jem spoke, his voice clear and direct. "Will," he said. "I thought . . . I thought that your sister was dead. "