Cassandra Clare - Clockwork Prince

Tessa blinked. “Me?”

Will looked taken aback, as if startled by what he had just said. “Well, you are an integral part of Mortmain’s plan. He has always wanted you. He has always needed you. We must not let him have you. Clearly you would be a powerful weapon in his hands.”

“All of that is true, Will, and of course I will go to the Consul,” said Charlotte. “But as an ordinary Shadowhunter, not as head of the Institute.”

“But why, Charlotte?” Jem demanded. “You excel at your work—”

“Do I?” she demanded. “For the second time I have not noted a spy under my own roof; Will and Tessa easily evaded my guardianship to attend Benedict’s party; our plan to capture Nate, which we never shared with the Consul, went awry, leaving us with a potentially important witness dead—”

“Lottie!” Henry put his hand on his wife’s arm.

“I am not fit to run this place,” said Charlotte. “Benedict was right. . . . I will of course try to convince the Clave of his guilt. Someone else will run the Institute. It will not be Benedict, I hope, but it will not be me, either—”

There was a clatter. “Mrs. Branwell!” It was Sophie. She had dropped the poker and turned away from the fire. “You can’t resign, ma’am. You—you simply can’t.”

“Sophie,” Charlotte said very kindly. “Wherever we go after this, wherever Henry and I set up our household, we will bring you—”

“It isn’t that,” Sophie said in a small voice. Her eyes darted around the room. “Miss Jessamine—She were—I mean, she was telling the truth. If you go to the Clave like this, you’ll be playing into Mortmain’s plans.”

Charlotte looked at her, perplexed. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t—I don’t know exactly.” Sophie looked at the floor. “But I know it’s true.”

“Sophie?” Charlotte’s tone was querulous, and Tessa knew what she was thinking: Did they have another spy, another serpent in their garden? Will, too, was leaning forward with narrowed eyes.

“Sophie’s not lying,” Tessa said abruptly. “She knows because—because we overheard Gideon and Gabriel speaking of it in the training room.”

“And you only now decided to mention it?” Will arched his brows.

Suddenly, unreasonably furious with him, Tessa snapped, “Be quiet, Will. If you—”

“I’ve been stepping out with him,” Sophie interrupted loudly. “With Gideon Lightwood. Seeing him on my days off.” She was as pale as a ghost. “He told me. He heard his father laughing about it. They knew Jessamine was found out. They were hoping you’d go to the Clave. I should’ve said something, but it seemed like you didn’t want to go to them anyways, so I . . .”

“Stepping out?” said Henry incredulously. “With Gideon Lightwood ?”

Sophie kept her attention on Charlotte, who was gazing at her, round-eyed. “I know what Mortmain is holding over Mr. Lightwood too,” she said. “Gideon only just found out. His father doesn’t know he knows.”

“Well, dear God, girl, don’t just stand there,” said Henry, who looked as poleaxed as his wife. “Tell us.”

“Demon pox,” said Sophie. “Mr. Lightwood’s got it, has had for years, and it’ll kill him in a right couple of months if he doesn’t get the cure. And Mortmain said he can get it for him.”

The room exploded in a hubbub. Charlotte raced over to Sophie; Henry called after her; Will leaped from his chair and was dancing in a circle. Tessa stayed where she was, stunned, and Jem remained beside her. Meanwhile, Will appeared to be singing a song about how he had been right about demon pox all along.

“Demon pox, oh, demon pox,

Just how is it acquired?

One must go down to the bad part of town

Until one is very tired.

Demon pox, oh, demon pox

I had it all along—

No, not the pox, you foolish blocks,

I mean this very song—

For I was right, and you were wrong!”

“Will!” Charlotte shouted over the noise. “Have you LOST YOUR MIND? CEASE THAT INFERNAL RACKET! Jem—”

Jem, rising to his feet, clapped his hands over Will’s mouth. “Do you promise to be quiet?” he hissed into his friend’s ear.

Will nodded, blue eyes blazing. Tessa was staring at him in amazement; they all were. She had seen Will many things—amused, bitter, condescending, angry, pitying—but never giddy before.

Jem let him go. “All right, then.”

Will slid to the floor, his back against the armchair, and threw his arms up. “A demon pox on all your houses!” he announced, and yawned.

“Oh God, weeks of pox jokes,” said Jem. “We’re for it now.”

“It can’t be true,” said Charlotte. “It’s simply— demon pox ?”

“How do we know Gideon did not lie to Sophie?” asked Jem, his tone mild. “I am sorry, Sophie. I hate to have to say it, but the Lightwoods are not trustworthy. . . .”

“I’ve seen Gideon’s face when he looks at Sophie,” said Will. “It was Tessa who told me first that Gideon fancied our Miss Collins, and I thought back, and I realized it was true. And a man in love—a man in love will tell anything. Betray anyone.” He was staring at Tessa as he spoke. She stared back; she could not help it. Her gaze felt pulled to him. The way he looked at her, with those blue eyes like pieces of sky, as if trying to communicate something to her silently. But what on earth . . . ?

She did owe him her life, she realized with a start. Perhaps he had been waiting for her to thank him. But there had been no time, no chance! She resolved to thank him at the first opportunity that presented itself. “Besides, Benedict was holding a demon woman on his lap at that party of his, kissing her,” Will went on, glancing away. “She had snakes for eyes. Each man to his own, I suppose. Anyway, the only way you can contract demon pox is by having improper relations with a demon, so . . .”

“Nate told me Mr. Lightwood preferred demon women,” said Tessa. “I don’t suppose his wife ever knew about that .”

“Wait.” It was Jem, who had suddenly gone very still. “Will—what are the symptoms of demon pox?”

“Quite nasty,” said Will with relish. “It begins with a shield-shaped rash on one’s back, and spreads over the body, creating cracks and fissures in the skin—”

Jem expelled a gasp of breath. “I—I shall return,” he said, “in just a moment. By the Angel—”

And he vanished out the door, leaving the others staring after him.

“You don’t think he has demon pox, do you?” Henry inquired of no one in particular.

I hope not, since we just got engaged, Tessa had the urge to say—just to see the looks on their faces—but repressed it.

“Oh, shut up, Henry,” said Will, and looked as if he were about to say something else, but the door banged open and Jem was back in the room, panting, and holding a piece of parchment. “I got this,” he said, “from the Silent Brothers—when Tessa and I went to see Jessamine.” He gave Tessa a slightly guilty look from under his fair hair, and she remembered him leaving Jessamine’s cell and returning moments later, looking preoccupied. “It is the report on Barbara Lightwood’s death. After Charlotte told us that her father had never turned Silas Lightwood over to the Clave, I thought I would inquire of the Silent Brothers if there was another manner in which Mrs. Lightwood had died. To see if Benedict had also lied that she had died of grief.”

“And had he?” Tessa leaned forward, fascinated.

“Yes. In fact, she cut her own wrists. But there was more.” He looked down at the paper in his hand. “A shield-shaped rash, indicative of the heraldic marks of astriola, upon the left shoulder.” He held it out to Will, who took it and scanned it, his blue eyes widening.