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“They’re not the only Shadowhunters missing,” Ragnor said. “And no, I don’t mean Clarissa or Drusilla. They were taken by the fey. This matter—Nephilim disappearing in a flare of light—has its source in some other kind of magic.”

Kit felt a wave of cold disbelief flood over him. He and Ty exchanged a look of horror. “How many people have vanished?” Kit asked.

Ragnor looked more grim than ever. “I don’t know. Reports are still coming in.”

“Couldn’t it be part of a coordinated attack?” Ty said. “Couldn’t Dru and Clary disappearing be related?”

“Oh, absolutely. I am sure there are answers to be found in Faerie, if only we could get there.” Ragnor tapped a green fingernail against the side of his cup. “Meanwhile, the others—the ones who’ve vanished—we’ve been able to Track to the borders of Idris. Then the Tracking spells hit the wards and stop. But if they were dead, the Tracking wouldn’t be working at all.”

“Idris,” Kit echoed numbly. “That means—is this the Cohort’s doing? I thought they were planning to have peace talks.”

“Apparently not,” said Ragnor, dryly.

“Who else has disappeared?” Ty asked, gripping his mug tightly.

Ragnor hesitated. “Influential Shadowhunters,” he said. “Heads of Institutes. Helen and Aline are all right. Still here. Emma and Julian, too.”

“What about the New York Institute?” Ty said. “Jace, Alec, and the others—”

“When I spoke to Magnus, they were fine. Searching for Clary and Dru.”

Kit’s voice was raw. “Mina isn’t an influential Shadowhunter. They took her.”

“Was Jem or Tessa holding her?” Ragnor asked. When Kit nodded, he said tiredly, “Well, that’s probably why. I doubt whatever kind of magic was involved is that precise.” He sighed. “I don’t have all the answers. We’re working blindfolded.”

“Am I in danger? Is Ty?” Kit asked, fighting panic. “Whoever found us at Cirenworth, can they find us anywhere? Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, hiding out in the London Institute or something? Ty already almost vanished once.”

“No,” Ragnor said firmly. “I don’t want you near any Institutes. No Portals either, at least not Shadowhunter ones. No fire-messages. Don’t try to reach anyone, not even me. You need to keep your heads down, stay out of sight. I will do my best to ward and protect you both so they don’t find you.”

Kit glanced around. “By taking us to a bad restaurant?”

“You’d be surprised,” said Ragnor, popping a chip into his mouth. “Werewolves own this place, and it’s warded impeccably. They’re very protective of their recipes. Especially the one for mushy peas.”

“Are you joking?” Ty said. He didn’t sound exasperated, just curious.

“I never joke about mushy peas,” said Ragnor, with an air of tragic nobility. “Look. I want to keep you safe—both from the fey who have their interests in Kit, and from whoever is taking Nephilim. We don’t yet know who is making Shadowhunters disappear, but keeping low and not tripping up any magical alarms cannot hurt you.”

“That seems fine,” Ty said. “But we can’t stay in this café forever. I need to find Dru. That’s why I came to Cirenworth. To get Kit to help me look for her.”

Ragnor nodded slowly. He didn’t ask why Ty would want Kit’s help. Kit suspected Ragnor already knew the reason. “As I said, we know they were taken to Faerie. But the ordinary paths into and out of Faerie are closed. We can’t communicate with anyone there, not even Kieran. Mark and Cristina were there when all this started, and they can’t be reached either.”

“We can’t give up, though. We can’t abandon Dru,” said Ty.

“We can’t just fixate on Dru either,” Kit snapped, and immediately felt awful. Of course Ty was hyperfocused on his sister. But there wasn’t anything he could really say; the whole topic of sisters was a minefield where he and Ty were concerned. “I mean, yes. We do have to find Dru, and Clary. There has to be some way into Faerie that everyone’s overlooked, some secret…”

Ragnor leaned in. Rain streaked the big window behind him, blurring the outside world into shapeless gray punctuated with moving dots of color. Umbrellas.

“There is a way,” he said. Kit thought he looked almost—sad. As if he didn’t want to be telling them this. “In fact, that’s what I brought you here to tell you. I would have told you earlier, Kit, but you seemed so happy not knowing much about your faerie heritage. Now the time has come. I must tell you of the society of the Order of the Briar.”

He paused theatrically, as if expecting some kind of startled or amazed reaction. Kit wasn’t sure why—they lived in a world full of secret magical societies. What was one more?

“I’ve never heard of them,” said Ty.

Ragnor looked disappointed. “Well. You wouldn’t have. They are an ancient and secretive group who guard a little-known way into Faerie. Their knowledge is handed along verbally, from Guardian to Guardian, nothing written down.”

“How do you know about this Order, then?” asked Kit skeptically.

“As if I wouldn’t know.” Ragnor looked offended. “And besides, I am acquainted with one of the members, and there are not many. She contacted me and asked me to collect you from Cirenworth. We agreed it was time you knew.”