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“A panther, perhaps.” His gaze roved over her face, lingering on her mouth. “Perhaps a lynx.”

“So, basically a cat.”

“I like cats.” He was still studying her face. “I wondered if you’d come to the revel at all, honestly.”

“Rathna told me you’d be upset if I didn’t. And you know I wouldn’t want you to be upset.” It felt like a knife twist, somehow.

Ash looked away, his jaw tightening, his hand at her back tensing. She knew that look. Whatever he wanted, he hated that he wanted it. Enough that it was making him angry. Which had not been her goal at all. Not after what Byrne had said. She had questions.

Ash was still gazing out at the revel, where a massive ice sculpture of the twins, their arms around a stag, had just been unveiled. Dru said the first thing that came to her mind: “Who pays for all this revel business? It must cost a fortune.”

This startled a laugh out of him. “How practical. Is that really your most pressing question? I thought mortals were supposed to be shocked by the debauchery of Faerie.”

“I’m from Los Angeles,” Dru said. “I’m no stranger to debauchery.”

Ash smiled. It was not a safe smile. It was a blade tucked up a decorative velvet sleeve. “Los Angeles,” he said, “is where I lived in Thule. Though I do not think you would have recognized it as your city.”

“I know. Emma and Julian told me about it.” Dru studied his face. Alert, beautiful, dangerous. He wore a silver circlet around his brow; it was unadorned except for a silver star in the middle of his forehead, between his green eyes.

A star for Morgenstern. The morning star.

“They said it was an awful place,” Dru added. “But that when they offered you a way out, you didn’t take it. Why not?”

Ash moved his grip to her shoulder; with his other hand, he took hold of her wrist. She felt his fingers against her pulse, the brush of his fingertips against the beat of her heart. The core of her seemed to be turning to hot liquid, ignoring the scolding her mind was trying to give her body.

“Nothing in my life,” Ash said, his lips almost against her ear, “ever suggested that I should trust Shadowhunters. And if I left, I would have been condemning Jace—Janus—to die. Besides, I’d never been in the mortal world. Going into a completely new place with strangers…” He paused. “Was not appealing.”

Dru had the feeling there was something else to it. Something he wasn’t saying. “You don’t think Janus can take care of himself? Seems like he’s done fine—he has the help of the whole Cohort.”

Ash looked suspicious. “How did you know that?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Of course you know. You make it your business to know everything.” He did not make it sound like a positive quality. “Janus didn’t have allies when we first arrived here,” said Ash. “In Thule, he served Sebastian. He was obedient. It was only here that he became free. That he began…”

His voice trailed off, his eyes searching her face. What was he looking for? Dru couldn’t be sure.

“To make the plans he’s made?” she guessed. “To become obsessed with Clary? To ally himself with the Cohort? And others? Just now, when I was dancing with Byrne—”

His grip on her wrist tightened, then relaxed. The air all around them smelled of burning roses.

“He said I was like something in a museum,” Dru said. “That you wanted me here so you could remember what a Shadowhunter was, when all of them were dead.”

Ash looked as if he were rolling his eyes internally. “Byrne knows nothing,” he said. “He is one of a long line of idiots who want to bed the Queen of Seelie and gain her favor. Also,” he added, “his cologne is awful.”

Dru thought back, remembering the odd smell of burned wax and paper that seemed to cling to Byrne’s clothes. “True. But not the point,” she said. “Why does he think the Shadowhunters are on the endangered species list? Is it because of Janus, or the Cohort—”

Ash frowned. “Why do you think I’d tell you, even if I knew the answer? You’re a Shadowhunter. You’ll always be a Shadowhunter.”

“So are you,” said Dru. “Shadowhunter blood breeds true.”

“Really?” His voice dripped with scorn, though Dru was nearly sure the scorn was not directed at her. “My father had the blood of demons, too. Perhaps we should not hope I will be too much like my ancestors, on either side.”

“You’re not like Sebastian,” Dru said. “I remember, being near him, you could feel that there was something wrong. Something uncanny about him. I don’t feel like that,” she added cautiously, “about you.”

Was it too much? she wondered. Was she overplaying her part? But Ash seemed lost in his own thoughts.

“I used to hold out hope that my father in this world would have loved me, as Janus and my mother said he would have,” he said. “But I understand now it was lies and dreams. My mother wished to believe he had been capable of loving her, but he never was. We see,” he added, “what we want to see.”

“Do you? See what you want to see?” Dru asked.

She felt his body tense. Anger flashed in his eyes, but there was something else along with it. A flare, as of fire, but what it illuminated was something she could not define.