Queen of Air and Darkness (The Dark Artifices 3)

“I’m so sorry about your friends.”

Maia sat back. “Don’t be sorry, Emma Carstairs,” she said. “You and Julian have brought us hope. This—today—this is the first move we’ve made against Sebastian, the first thing we’ve done that hasn’t been just about surviving. So thank you for that.”

The backs of Emma’s eyes stung. She looked down and took another bite of oatmeal. Maia was right—it was better with cinnamon.

“Do you not want your coffee?” Diana said, appearing at their table. She was dressed entirely in black from head to toe, two bullet belts lashed around her waist. “I’ll drink it.”

Emma shuddered. “Take it away. I’d be grateful.”

A group of people dressed in black like Diana, carrying guns, marched out the door in formation. “Snipers,” Diana said. “They’ll be covering us from above.”

“Diana, we will be going on ahead now,” said Raphael, appearing out of nowhere in that irritating way vampires had. He hadn’t bothered with any kind of military clothes; he wore jeans and a T-shirt and looked about fifteen.

“You’re scouting?” Emma said.

“That’s my excuse for not traveling with you humans, yes,” said Raphael.

It was somewhat mysterious, Emma thought, that Magnus and Alec had liked this guy enough to name their kid after him. “But I was so looking forward to playing I Spy,” she said.

“You would have lost,” said Raphael. “Vampires excel at I Spy.”

As he stalked away, he paused to talk to someone. Livvy. She patted him on the shoulder, and to Emma’s surprise he didn’t glare—he nodded, an almost friendly nod, and went to join his group of vampire scouts. They headed out the door as Livvy approached Emma and Julian’s table.

“Everybody’s ready,” she said. She looked a lot like she had when they’d first seen her in Thule. Tough and ready for anything. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail; she bent over to kiss Cameron on the cheek and patted Julian’s shoulder. “Jules, you and Emma come with me. We’ve got fog today.”

“Fog doesn’t seem so bad,” Emma said.

Livvy sighed. “You’ll see.”

* * *

Emma did see. Fog in Thule was like everything else in Thule: surprisingly horrible.

They left the Bradbury in a small group: Emma, Julian, Livvy, Cameron, Bat, Maia, Divya, Rayan, and a few other rebels Emma didn’t know by name. And the fog had hit them like a wall: thick columns of mist rising from the ground and drifting through the air, turning everything more than a few feet ahead into a blur. It smelled like burning, like the smoke from a deep fire.

“It’ll make your eyes sting, and your throat, too, but it doesn’t hurt you,” Livvy said as they split up into smaller groups, spreading out across Broadway. “Sucks for the snipers, though. No visibility.”

She was walking with Emma and Julian in the gutter next to the pavement. They followed Livvy, since she seemed to know where she was going. The fog cut the dim light of the dying sun almost completely; Livvy had taken out a flashlight and was aiming the beam into the mist ahead.

“At least there won’t be any cars,” Livvy said. “Sometimes the Endarkened try to run you over if they think you’re unsworn. But no one drives around in the fog.”

“Does it ever rain?” asked Emma.

“Believe me,” said Livvy, “you do not want to be here when it rains.”

Her tone suggested both that Emma shouldn’t inquire further and that it probably rained knives or rabid frogs.

The white fog seemed to shroud sound as well as sight. They padded along, their footsteps muffled, following Livvy’s flashlight beam. Julian seemed lost in thought; Livvy glanced at him, and then at Emma. “I have something I want you to take,” she said in a voice so low Emma had to lean in to hear it. “It’s a letter I wrote for Ty.”

She slipped the envelope into Emma’s hand; Emma tucked it into her inside pocket after glancing at the scrawled name on the envelope. Tiberius.

“Okay.” Emma looked straight ahead. “But if you aren’t coming back through the Portal with us, you have to tell Julian.”

“The Portal’s not really a sure thing, is it?” Livvy said mildly.

“We’re going to get back,” Emma said. “Somehow.”

Livvy inclined her head, acknowledging Emma’s determination. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Look,” Julian said. He seemed to sharpen around the edges as he came closer to them, no longer blurred by the fog. “We’re there.”

Angels Flight loomed up above them, its bulk cutting through the mist. The railway itself had been fenced off long ago, back when people cared about things like safety, but the fencing had been trampled down, and torn strips of chain link lay scattered on the pavement. Two wooden trolley cars lay on their sides halfway up the hill, toppled from the tracks like broken toys. An ornate orange-and-black archway with the words ANGELS FLIGHT towered over the railway entrance.

Standing in front of one of the pillars holding up the archway was Tessa.

She wasn’t disguised as Jem today. Nor was she dressed like a Shadowhunter or a Silent Brother. She wore a plain black dress, her hair loose and straight. She looked about Clary’s age.

“You’re here,” she said.

Livvy had stopped in her tracks; she held out a hand indicating Julian and Emma should stop as well. She flicked off her flashlight as several dozen figures emerged from the mist. Emma tensed, then relaxed as she recognized them—Diana. Bat. Cameron. Raphael. Maia. And dozens more rebels, clad in black and green.

They stood in silence in two long rows. Military formation. None of them moved.

Tessa looked at Livvy wonderingly. “Are all of these people your people?”

“Yes,” Livvy said. She was regarding Tessa with a mix of distrust and hope. “These are my people.”

Tessa smiled, a sudden and wonderful smile. “You’ve done well, Livia Blackthorn. You’ve honored your family name.”

Livvy seemed taken aback. “My family?”

“Long have there been Blackthorns,” said Tessa, “and long have they lived with honor. I see much honor here.” She glanced in the direction of the rebels, and then turned—seeming unconcerned with the show of

force at her back—and raised her hands in front of her.

There was indrawn breath from the rebels as Tessa’s fingers sparked with yellow fire. A door—two doors—evolved under her hands, filling the archway. Each was a massive slab of stone. Across them both had been crudely carved a phrase in Latin. Nescis quid serus vesper vehat.

“Who knows what nightfall brings?” Julian translated, and a shiver went up Emma’s spine.

Tessa brushed the yellow flames of her fingers across the doors, and a loud grinding sound cut through the muffling fog. The doors shuddered and began to slide apart, dust showering down from years of disuse.

A hollow, booming cry echoed from the darkness as the doors slid open completely. Deep blackness was all that was visible beyond the entrance: Emma could not see the stairs she knew led down into the Silent City. She could see only shadow.

Emma and Julian stepped forward, Emma peering into the blackness of the Silent City’s entrance, just as Tessa sank to the ground.

They darted to her side. She pushed herself upright against a pillar, her face as white as the mist. “I’m all right, I’m all right,” she said, though up close, the sides of her mouth and eyes were threaded with scarlet, as if the small blood vessels there had burst with strain. “We should hurry. It isn’t wise to leave the Silent City open—”

She tried to struggle to her feet and sank back down again with a gasp.

Livvy handed her flashlight to Emma and knelt down beside Tessa. “Cameron! Diana! Go with Emma and Jules into the Bone City. Maia, I need a medic.”

There was a flurry of activity. As Cameron and Diana came to join them, Emma tried to argue that she should be the one to stay with Tessa, but Livvy was adamant. “You did the parabatai ceremony,” she said. “You know the Silent City. There’s no reason its architecture here should be any different.”

“Hurry,” Tessa said again as Maia bent down beside her with a first-aid kit. “The Instruments are in the Star Chamber.” She coughed. “Go!”