Will drew his gaze from the window and looked at them both. When he smiled, it was ghastly. "My sister is dead," he said.
And that was all he would say. They rode the rest of the way back to the city of York in silence.
Having barely slept the night before, Tessa fell in and out of a fitful doze that lasted until they reached the York train station. In a fog she dismounted from the carriage and fol owed the others to the London platform; they were late for the train, and nearly missed it, and Jem held the door open for her, for her and Will, as both of them stumbled up the steps and into the compartment after him. Later she would remember the way he looked, hanging on to the door, hatless, call ing to both of them, and recal staring out the window of the train as it pulled away, seeing Gottshal standing on the platform looking after them with his unsettling dark eyes, his hat pulled low. Everything else was a blur.
There was no conversation this time as the train puffed its way through countryside increasingly darkened by clouds, only silence. Tessa rested her chin on her palm, cradling her head against the hard glass of the window.
Green hil s flew by, and smal towns and vil ages, each with their own neat smal station, the name of it picked out in gold on a red sign. Church spires rose in the distance; cities swel ed and vanished, and Tessa was aware of Jem whispering to Will, in Latin, she thought-"Me specta, me specta," and Will not answering. Later she was aware that Jem had left the compartment, and she looked at Will across the smal dimming space between them. The sun had begun to go down, and it lent a rosy flush to his skin, belying the blank look in his eyes.
"Will," she said softly, sleepily. "Last night-" You were kind to me, she was going to say. Thank you.
The glare from his blue eyes stabbed through her. "There was no last night," he said through his teeth.
At that, she sat up straight, almost awake. "Oh, truly? We just went right from one afternoon on through til the next morning? How odd no one else has remarked on it. I should think it some sort of miracle, a day with no night -"
"Dont test me, Tessa. " Will s hands were clenched on his knees, his fingernails, half-moons of dirt under them, digging into the fabric of his trousers.
"Your sisters alive," she said, knowing perfectly well that she was provoking him. "Oughtnt you be glad?"
He whitened. "Tessa-," he began, and leaned forward as if he meant to do she knew not what-strike the window and break it, shake her by the shoulders, or hold her as if he never meant to let her go. It was all one great bewilderment with him, wasnt it? Then the compartment door opened and Jem came in, carrying a damp cloth.
He looked from Will to Tessa and raised his silvery eyebrows. "A miracle,"
he said. "You got him to speak. "
"Just to shout at me, real y," said Tessa. "Not quite loaves and fishes. "
Will had gone back to staring out the window, and looked at neither of them as they spoke.
"Its a start," said Jem, and he sat down beside her. "Here. Give me your hands. "
Surprised, Tessa held her hands out to him-and was horrified. They were filthy, the nails cracked and broken and thick with half-moons of dirt where she had clawed at the Yorkshire earth. There was even a bloody scratch across her knuckles, though she had no memory of having gotten it.
Not a ladys hands. She thought of Jessamines perfect pink and white paws. "Jessie would be horrified," she said mournful y. "Shed tell me I had charwomans hands. "
"And what, pray tell, is dishonorable about that?" said Jem as he gently cleaned the dirt from her scratches. "I saw you chase after us, and that automaton creature. If Jessamine does not know by now that there is honor in blood and dirt, she never will. "
The cool cloth felt good on her fingers. She looked up at Jem, who was intent on his task, his lashes a fringe of lowered silver. "Thank you," she said.
"I doubt I was any help at all, and probably a hindrance, but thank you all the same. "
He smiled at her, the sun coming out from behind clouds. "Thats what were training you for, isnt it?"
She lowered her voice. "Have you any idea what could have happened? Why Will s family would be living in a house Mortmain once owned?"
Jem glanced over at Will, who was still staring bitterly out the window. They had entered London, and gray buildings were beginning to rise up around them on either side. The look Jem gave Will was a tired, loving sort of look, a familial look, and Tessa realized that, though when she had imagined them as brothers, she had always imagined Will as the older, the caretaker, and Jem as the younger, the reality was far more complicated than that. "I do not,"
he said, "though it makes me think that the game Mortmain is playing is a long one. Somehow he knew exactly where our investigations would lead us, and he arranged for this-encounter-to shock us as much as possible. He wishes us to be reminded who it is who has the power. "
Tessa shuddered. "I dont know what he wants from me, Jem," she said in a low voice. "When he said to me that he made me, it was as if he were saying he could unmake me just as easily. "
Jems warm arm touched hers. "You cannot be unmade," he said just as softly. "And Mortmain underestimates you. I saw how you used that branch against the automaton-"
"It was not enough. If it had not been for my angel-" Tessa touched the pendant at her throat. "The automaton touched it and recoiled. Another mystery I do not understand. It protected me before, and again this time, but in other situations lies dormant. It is as much a mystery as my talent. "
"Which, fortunately, you did not need to use to Change into Starkweather.
He seemed quite happy simply to give us the Shade files. "
"Thank goodness," said Tessa. "I wasnt looking forward to it. He seems such an unpleasant, bitter man. But if it ever turns out to be necessary . . . "
She took something from her pocket and held it up, something that glinted in the carriages dim light. "A button," she said smugly. "It fell from the cuff of his jacket this morning, and I picked it up. "
Jem smiled. "Very clever, Tessa. I knew wed be glad we brought you with us-"
He broke off with a cough. Tessa looked at him in alarm, and even Will was roused out of his silent despondency, turning to look at Jem with narrowed eyes. Jem coughed again, his hand pressed to his mouth, but when he took it away, there was no blood visible. Tessa saw Will s shoulders relax.
"Just some dust in my throat," Jem reassured them. He looked not il but very tired, though his exhaustion only served to point up the delicacy of his features. His beauty did not blaze like Will s did in fierce colors and repressed fire, but it had its own muted perfection, the loveliness of snow fal ing against a silver-gray sky.
"Your ring!" She started up suddenly as she remembered that she was stil wearing it. She put the button back into her pocket, then reached to draw the Carstairs ring off her hand. "I had meant to give it back to you earlier," she said, placing the silver circlet in his palm. "I forgot . . . "
He curled his fingers around hers. Despite her thoughts of snow and gray skies, his hand was surprisingly warm. "Thats all right," he said in a low voice. "I like the way it looks on you. "
She felt her cheeks warm. Before she could answer, the train whistle sounded. Voices cried out that they were in London, Kings Cross Station.
The train began to slow as the platform came into view. The hubbub of the station rose to assault Tessas ears, along with the sound of the train braking. Jem said something, but his words were lost in the noise; it sounded like a warning, but Will was already on his feet, his hand reaching for the compartment door latch. He swung it open and leaped out and down.
If he were not a Shadowhunter, Tessa thought, he would have fal en, and badly, but as it was, he simply landed lightly on his feet and began to run, pushing his way among the crowding porters, the commuters, the gentility traveling north for the weekend with their massive trunks and hunting hounds on leashes, the newspaper boys and pickpockets and costermongers an
d all the other human traffic of the grand station.