What are you eating, Onyx? The dried-up hearts of long-dead Blackthornes?
Don’t touch her. You might catch something.
Then there were the shoves and the tripping, and the lonely corner table where I’d eaten lunch every day. I could have skipped it. Saved myself the grief, but no. I’d gone. Every fucking day. I’d gone, and I’d endured. And thank Trinity I had, because it had built my armor, showing me that the old adage was true: sticks and stones, baby. Sticks and fucking stones.
But this dining hall was nothing like the ones I’d frequented. It was grand and opulent, with a checked tile floor of cream and silver. Chandeliers hung from wide beams above us, and beyond that, hidden in the gloom, was another domed ceiling painted with golden cogs and silver swirls. Mirrors on the far wall created an illusion of space, and for a moment, it looked like shadows moved within. But on closer inspection, all I saw was a mirror image of this room—and my face staring back at me. The face of a grown woman, not the young girl from six years ago.
My anxiety melted away. I was no longer afraid or ashamed.
“Oh shit,” Dori said. “The silvers have Benedict.” She set off quickly toward a booth in the far-right corner of the vast room, where Benedict sat with three women with long silver hair.
Clary and I hurried to catch up.
“Dori.” Benedict grinned up at her, a goofy smile on his face. “Have you met my friends?” He indicated the three women squished onto the bench opposite him, identical except for eye color. “They want to take me for a schwim… Schwim… Swim!” He beamed at us when he finally nailed the word. The women nodded in unison, and he sighed. “Of course I would.”
“Piss off, you three,” Dori snapped at the women. “How many times, eh? He’s not interested.”
The middle one with violet eyes glared at Dori.
“Yeah? You can glower at me all you want, fish-breath, but you can’t get in my head. So go on, fuck off, before I call Master Trax.”
The trio hissed in unison, baring a mass of needle-long teeth that transformed their beautiful faces into something hideous and terrifying.
Across from them, Benedict jolted back in his seat. “Argh!”
“Go on, get!” Dori shooed at them.
The silvers slipped from the bench and glided out of the room, the hems of their long dresses sweeping the floor behind them.
Benedict ran a hand down his face and shuddered. “What took you so long?”
“Sorry,” Clary replied. “Anamaya met Tamina.” She took the space beside him, and Dori and I sat opposite on the bench vacated by the silvers.
Benedict grimaced. “You saw Ruspin, huh?”
I nodded. “I did. But first, who were they?”
“The silvers?” Benedict shuddered again. “They want my body. Literally.” He made a chomping motion with his mouth.
“What the fuck?”
“They’re sirens,” Dori said. “You know your sea folklore.”
“Not really.” Sea lore wasn’t something Mother had thought I needed to learn growing up.
“Clary, you do the honors,” Dori said. “I’m gonna order our meals. What do you guys want?”
“I’ll have a pot roast,” Benedict said.
“Lamb shank for me,” Clary replied.
Everyone looked at me. “Um…what are the options?”
“Whatever you want,” Clary said.
“WhateverI want?”
“Yep. You order it, and it’ll be created.”
