Jessamine only began to sob. Charlotte ignored her. Brother Enoch lifted the girl to her feet; Jessamine struggled, but the Silent Brother held her in an iron grip, his other hand on the hilt of the Mortal Sword.

"Charlotte!" Jessamine shrieked piteously. "Charlotte, please, not the Silent City! Lock me in the crypt, give me to the Council, but please do not send me alone to that-that graveyard! I shall die of fear!"

"You should have thought of that before you betrayed us," said Charlotte.

"Brother Enoch, take her, please."

Jessamine was still shrieking as the Silent Brother lifted her and threw her over his shoulder. As Tessa stared, wide-eyed, he strode from the room carrying her. Her cries and gasps echoed down the corridor long after the door closed behind them-and then were cut off suddenly.

"Jessamine-," Tessa began.

"She is quite all right. He has probably put a Rune of Quietude on her. That is all. There is nothing to worry about," said Charlotte, and she sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked down at her own hands, wonderingly, as if they did not belong to her. "Henry . . ."

"Shal I rouse him for you, Mrs. Branwel ?" Sophie asked gently.

"He is in the crypt, working. . . . I could not bear to get him." Charlotte's voice was distant. "Jessamine has been with us since she was a little girl. It would have been too much for him, too much. He does not have it in him to be cruel."

"Charlotte." Tessa touched her shoulder gently. "Charlotte, you are not cruel either."

"I do what I must. There is nothing to worry about," Charlotte said again, and burst into tears.

Chapter 14: The Silent City

She howl'd aloud, "I am on fire within.

There comes no murmur of reply.

What is it that will take away my sin,

And save me lest I die?"

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson, "The Palace of Art"

"Jessamine," Henry said again, for what must have been the fifth or sixth time. "I still can't believe it. Our Jessamine?"

Every time he said it, Tessa noticed, Charlotte's mouth grew a little tighter.

"Yes," she said again. "Jessamine. She has been spying on us and reporting our every move to Nate, who has been passing the information to Mortmain.

Must I say it again?"

Henry blinked at her. "I'm sorry, darling. I have been listening. It is only that -" He sighed. "I knew she was unhappy here. But I did not think Jessamine hated us."

"I don't think she did-or does." This was Jem, who was standing near the fire in the drawing room, one arm upon the mantel. They had not gathered for breakfast as they usual y did; there had been no formal announcement as to why, but Tessa guessed that the idea of going on with breakfast, with Jessamine's place empty, as if nothing had happened, had been too dreadful for Charlotte to bear.

Charlotte had wept for only a short time that night before she had regained her composure; she had waved away Sophie's and Tessa's attempts to help with cold cloths or tea, shaking her head stiffly and saying over and over that she should not all ow herself to break down like this, that now was the time for planning, for strategy. She had marched to Tessa's room, with Sophie and Tessa hurrying at her heels, and pried feverishly at the floorboards until she'd turned up a smal chapbook, like a family Bible, bound in white leather and wrapped in velvet. She had slipped it into her pocket with a determined expression, waving away Tessa's questions, and risen to her feet. The sky outside the windows had already begun to brighten with the wan light of dawn. Looking exhausted, she had told Sophie to instruct Bridget to serve a simple cold breakfast in the drawing room, and to let Cyril know so that the menfolk might be informed. Then she had left.

With Sophie's help Tessa had finally and grateful y fought her way free of Jessamine's dress; she had bathed, and put on her yel ow dress, the one Jessamine had bought her. She thought the color might brighten her mood, but she still felt wan and tired.

She found the same look reflected on Jem's face when she came into the drawing room. His eyes were shadowed, and he looked quickly away from her. It hurt. It also made her think of the night before, with Will, on the balcony.

But that had been different, she told herself. That had been a result of warlock powders, a temporary madness. Nothing like what had happened between her and Jem.

"I don't think she hates us," Jem said again now, correcting his use of the past tense. "She has always been someone so full of wanting. She has always been so desperate."

"It is my fault," Charlotte said softly. "I should not have tried to force being a Shadowhunter upon her when it was something she so clearly despised."

"No. No!" Henry hurried to reassure his wife. "You were never anything but kind to her. You did everything you could. There are some mechanisms that are so-so broken that they cannot be repaired."

"Jessamine is not a watch, Henry," Charlotte said, her tone remote. Tessa wondered if she were still angry with Henry for not seeing Woolsey Scott with her, or if she were simply angry at the world. "Perhaps I should just parcel up the Institute with a bow and give it to Benedict Lightwood. This is the second time that we have had a spy under our roof and not known about it until significant damage was done. Clearly I am incompetent."

"In a way it was really just the one spy," Henry began, but fell silent as Charlotte gave him a look that could have melted glass.

"If Benedict Lightwood is working for Mortmain, he cannot be all owed to have custody of the Institute," said Tessa. "In fact, that bal he threw last night ought to be enough to disqualify him."

"The problem Will be proving it," said Jem. "Benedict Will deny everything, and it Will be his word against yours-and you are a Downworlder-"

"There's Will," said Charlotte, and frowned. "Speaking of, where is Will ?"

"Having a lie-in, no doubt," said Jem, "and as for him being a witness, well, everyone thinks Will is a lunatic as it is-"

"Ah," said a voice from the doorway, "having your annual everyone-thinks- Will -is-a-lunatic meeting, are you?"

"It's biannual," said Jem. "And no, this is not that meeting."

Will 's eyes sought Tessa across the room. "They know about Jessamine?"

he said. He looked tired, but not as tired as Tessa would have thought; he was pale, but there was a suppressed excitement about him that was almost like-happiness. She felt her stomach drop as memories of the previous night-the stars, the balcony, the kissing-swept over her.

When had he gotten home last night? she thought. How had he? And why did he look so-excited? Was he horrified by what had happened on the balcony between them last night, or did he find it amusing? And dear God, had he told Jem? Warlock powders, she told herself desperately. She had not been herself, acting of her own will. Surely Jem would understand that. It would break her heart to hurt him. If he even cared . . .

"Yes, they know all about Jessamine," she said hastily. "She was questioned with the Mortal Sword and taken to the Silent City, and right now we're having a meeting about what to do next, and it's dreadful y important.

Charlotte's very upset."

Charlotte looked at her in puzzlement.

"Well, you are," Tessa said, nearly out of breath from speaking so quickly.

"And you were asking for Will -"

"And here I am," said Will, throwing himself down into a chair near Jem.

One of his arms had been bandaged, his sleeve pulled down partway over it.

The nails of his hand were crusted with dried blood. "Glad to hear Jessamine's in the Silent City. Best place for her. What's the next step?"

"That's the meeting we were trying to have," said Jem.

"Well, who knows she's there?" Will asked practical y.

"Just us," said Charlotte, "and Brother Enoch, but he's agreed not to inform the Clave for another day or so. Until we decide what to do. Which reminds me, I shall have some choice words for you, Will, haring off to Benedict Lightwood's without informing me, and dragging Tessa with you."

"There was no time to lose," said Will. "By the time we'd have roused you and made you agree to the plan, Nathaniel could have been and gone. And you can't say it was a dreadful idea. We've learned a great deal about Nathaniel and Benedict Lightwood-"

"Nathaniel Gray and Benedict Lightwood aren't Mortmain."

Will traced a pattern on the air with his long, elegant fingers. "Mortmain is the spider at the heart of the web," he said. "The more we learn, the more we know how far his reach extends. Before last night we had no clue he had any connection to Lightwood; now we know the man is his puppet. I say we go to the Clave and report Benedict and Jessamine. Let Wayland take care of them. See what Benedict spil s under the Mortal Sword."

Charlotte shook her head. "No, I-I don't think we can do that."

Will tilted his head back. "Why not?"

"Jessamine said it was exactly what Mortmain wanted us to do. And she said it under the influence of the Mortal Sword. She wasn't lying."

"But she could have been wrong," said Will. "Mortmain could have foreseen just this circumstance and have had Nate plant the thought in her head for us to discover."

"D'you think he would have thought ahead like that?" said Henry.

"Assuredly," said Will. "The man's a strategist." He tapped his temple.

"Like me."

"So you think we should go to the Clave?" asked Jem.

"Bloody hell, no," said Will. "What if it is the truth? Then we'l feel like right fools."

Charlotte threw her hands up. "But you said-"

"I know what I said," said Will. "But you have to look at consequences. If we go to the Clave and we're wrong, then we've played into Mortmain's hands.

We still have a few days before the deadline is up. Going to the Clave early gains us nothing. If we investigate, and can proceed on a surer footing . . ."

"And how do you propose to investigate?" Tessa inquired.

Will swiveled his head to look at her. There was nothing in his cool blue eyes to recal the Will of the night before, who had touched her with such tenderness, who had whispered her name like a secret. "The problem with questioning Jessamine is that even when forced to tell the truth, there is a limit to her knowledge. We do, however, have one more connection to the Magister. Someone who is likely to know a great deal more. That is your brother, Nate, through Jessamine. He still trusts her. If she summons him to a meeting, then we Will be able to capture him there."

"Jessamine would never agree to do it," said Charlotte. "Not now-"

Will gave her a dark look. "You are all in a lather, aren't you?" he said. "Of course she wouldn't. We Will be asking Tessa to reprise her starring role as Jessamine, A Traitorous Young Lady of Fashion."

"That sounds dangerous," Jem said in a subdued voice. "For Tessa."

Tessa looked at him quickly, and caught a flash of his silvery eyes. It was the first time he had looked at her since she had left his room that night. Was she imagining the concern in his voice when he spoke of danger to her, or was it simply the concern Jem had for everyone? Not wishing for her horrible demise was mere kindness, not-not what it was she hoped he felt.

Whatever that might be. Let him at least not despise her. . . .

"Tessa is fearless," said Will. "And there Will be little danger to her. We Will send him a note arranging a meeting in a place where we might fal upon him easily and immediately. The Silent Brothers can torture him until he gives up the information that we need."

"Torture?" said Jem. "This is Tessa's brother-"

"Torture him," said Tessa. "If that is what is necessary. I give you my permission."

Charlotte looked up at her, shocked. "You can't mean that."

"You said there was a way to dig through his mind for secrets," Tessa said.

"I asked you not to do that, and you didn't. I thank you for that, but I Will not hold you to that promise. Dig through his mind if you must. There is more to all of this for me than there is for you, you know. For you this is about the Institute and the safety of Shadowhunters. I care about those things too, Charlotte. But Nate-he is working with Mortmain. Mortmain, who wants to trap me and use me, and for what we still do not know. Mortmain, who may know what I am. Nate told Jessamine my father was a demon and my mother was a Shadowhunter-"

Will sat up straight. "That's impossible," he said. "Shadow-hunters and demons-they cannot procreate. They cannot produce living offspring."

"Then maybe it was a lie, like the lie about Mortmain being in Idris," said Tessa. "That doesn't mean Mortmain doesn't know the truth. I must know what I am. If nothing else, I believe it is the key to why he wants me."

There was sadness in Jem's eyes as he looked at her, and then away.

"Very well," he said. "Will, how do you propose we lure him to a meeting? Don't you think he knows Jessamine's handwriting? Isn't it likely they have some secret signal between them?"

"Jessamine must be convinced," said Will. "To help us."

"Please don't suggest we torture her," said Jem irritably. "The Mortal Sword has already been used. She has told us all she can-"

"The Mortal Sword did not give us their meeting places or any codes or pet names they might have used," said Will. "Don't you understand? This is Jessamine's last chance. Her last chance to cooperate. To get leniency from the Clave. To be forgiven. Even if Charlotte keeps the Institute, do you think they Will leave Jessamine's fate in our hands? No, it Will be left to the Consul and the Inquisitor. And they Will not be kind. If she does this for us, it could mean her life."

"I am not sure she cares about her life," said Tessa softly.

"Everyone cares," said Will. "Everyone wants to live."

Jem turned away from him abruptly, and stared into the fire.

"The question is, who can we send to persuade her?" said Charlotte. "I cannot go. She hates and blames me most of all."

"I could go," Henry said, his gentle face troubled. "I could perhaps reason with the poor girl, speak with her of the fol y of young love, how swiftly it fades in the face of life's harsh reality-"