Page 117

“He used to be Jace to me. Then Janus. Over the time we have been in Faerie, he has become the Huntsman. I do not know the moment it happened, but he is closer to the Queen than he is to me.” The words were spoken without inflection, but Dru could feel a crack in his wall of control. She thought of his hesitation in the Juniper Room. His trust in Janus was eroding. She was sure of it. “It matters little. Show me how to use this blade.”

“First you name it,” Dru said. “Pick the name of an angel. You’re well-read, surely you know one.”

Ash raised the weapon so that the blade was vertical. “Camael,” he said, and the blade responded, sensing the angelic power in him, inherited despite his father’s demonic blood. A glow pulsed through it, a swift heatless blaze. His eyes widened—so apparently he could still be impressed by some things.

Dru raised her blade. “Jophiel,” she said, and watched as it began to burn, illuminating the space between them. “When I came here, you said you’d keep me safe,” she said. “How do you plan to do that while you’re gone? What’s to stop the Queen from turning me into a topiary rosebush?”

Ash brought his own blade up, on guard. “I will make my mother swear not to harm you. And the twins will watch over you.”

“The twins?” Dru rolled her eyes. “I’m not even sure they can tie their own shoes.”

“They don’t need to. Shoelaces are not popular in Faerie.”

Dru stepped back, moving into an attack position. “You’re really not going to tell me where you’re going?”

She knew she was taking a chance. She didn’t have a claim on Ash and he wasn’t required to tell her anything. But if nothing else, he seemed to feel a strange obligation where she was concerned—enough that he would demand the Queen swear not to hurt her.

“Idris,” he said. “Janus wishes to prove to me that the Shadowhunters are unharmed.”

Dru’s breath caught in her throat. “There’s a pathway from here to Idris, isn’t there? If Janus is working with the Cohort, there must be. Ash—take me with you.”

He looked horrified. “Absolutely not.”

She lunged. Ash reacted with a speed that was almost frightening, his blade lashing against hers. There was a harsh bright crackle, like a miniature spear of lightning. “Don’t be a fool,” he said tightly, ducking her next swing. “Don’t you understand how much danger you’d be in if you went to Idris? If you saw what Janus was doing there? He’d kill you before he’d let you breathe a word of his plans.”

“What about Clary? Has he told her?”

Ash seemed taken aback. “That is different,” he said. “For Janus, Clary is part of his plans. Soon he will want to bring her there with him. For her to see the glory of what he is doing.”

I doubt she’ll find it all that glorious. But she suspected Ash knew that.

Dru brought her blade up; the two weapons clashed again, though the sound they made when they met was not the clash of metal. It was a strange wrenching noise, like a door being ripped off its hinges. “Then you must be planning to kill me.”

“What?” Ash’s blade slammed against hers again, making an even more discordant noise. “You can’t be serious—”

“Really?” Dru lunged, and this time he backed up, startled by her ferocity. “You can’t leave me to the Queen. Whatever she says to you, she’ll kill me.” Her blade slammed into his again. It sounded like screaming. “You can’t let me go. I already know too much.” Slam. Another scream. “And you can’t keep me a prisoner here forever. I’ll kill myself.” She raised her blade a final time and brought it down against his; he barely moved to get out of the way. The awful tearing sound came again, and this time Ash’s blade snapped in half.

He backed away, his eyes fiercely bright, staring as Dru’s own blade seemed to crumble in her hands. She threw it to the floor, panting, smelling the bitter scent of char.

“What,” Ash said, “was that?”

“You asked me to teach you how seraph blades work.” Dru pushed her sweaty hair back from her forehead. “Seraph blades are meant for dispatching demons. They are not meant for Shadowhunters to fight each other with. This is what happens when you try to twist something away from the purpose it was made for. You destroy it.”

“I see. You were trying to teach me a lesson. Just not the one I asked for.”

“I don’t think you were born evil,” Dru said. “I think that you’ve been…”

His face was blank. “Twisted?”

Dru took a deep breath. “Yes, but you aren’t your father. You have choices. You don’t have to go along with Janus and the Queen and whatever they’re planning—”

“Be quiet.” His voice was low and cold. “To say those words here is treason.” Ash dropped his own broken blade at his feet. “I gather you feel you have taught me all you have to teach.”

Dru flexed the hand that had been holding the seraph blade. Her palm was red and painful. “Not everything about being a Shadowhunter can be taught,” she said. “I can’t teach you to care about other people. I can’t teach you to care about saving mundanes. I can’t teach you to put your own safety last, and you would laugh at me if I tried.”

Ash glanced down at the broken seraph blades. They resembled shattered glass, mixed with the ash of a long-dead fire.

“You do consider it a virtue to put your own safety last, don’t you?” he said, his voice low and filled with bitterness. “You don’t need me to spy on my mother. You’re going to do it yourself.”