"I Will still help you. " Magnus put his hands behind his head and leaned back, looking at Will through half-lowered lids. "Though I could help you better if you told me the truth, I Will do what I can. You interest me oddly, Will Herondale. "
Will shrugged. "That Will do well enough as a reason. When do you plan to try again?"
Magnus yawned. "Probably this weekend. I shall send you a message by Saturday if there are . . . developments. "
Developments. Curse. Truth. Jem. Dying. Tessa. Tessa, Tessa, Tessa.
Her name rang in Will s mind like the chime of a bel ; he wondered if any other name on earth had such an inescapable resonance to it. She couldnt have been named something awful, could she, like Mildred. He couldnt imagine lying awake at night, staring up at the ceiling while invisible voices whispered "Mildred" in his ears. But Tessa- "Thank you," he said abruptly. He had gone from being too cold to being too warm; it was stifling in the room, still smel ing of burned candle wax. "I Will look forward to hearing from you, then. "
"Yes, do," said Magnus, and he closed his eyes. Will couldnt tell whether he was actual y asleep or simply waiting for Will to leave; either way, it was clearly a hint that he expected Will to depart. Will, not entirely without relief, took it.
Sophie was on her way to Miss Jessamines room, to sweep the ashes and clean the grate of the fireplace, when she heard voices in the hall. In her old place of employment she had been taught to "give room"-to turn and look at the wal s while her employers passed by, and do her best to resemble a piece of furniture, something inanimate that they could ignore.
She had been shocked on coming to the Institute to find that things were not managed that way here. First, for such a large house to have so few servants had surprised her. She had not realized at first that the Shadowhunters did much for themselves that a typical family of good breeding would find beneath them-started their own fires, did some of their own shopping, kept rooms like the training area and the weapons room cleaned and neat. She had been shocked at the familiarity with which Agatha and Thomas had treated their employers, not realizing that her fell ow servants had come from families that had served Shadowhunters through the generations-or that theyd had magic of their own.
She herself had come from a poor family, and had been called "stupid"
and been slapped often when shed first begun working as a maid- because she hadnt been used to delicate furniture or real silver, or china so thin you could see the darkness of the tea through the sides. But she had learned, and when it had become clear that she was going to be
very pretty, she had been promoted to parlor maid. A parlor maids lot was a precarious one. She was meant to look beautiful for the household, and therefore her salary had begun to go down each year that shed aged, once she had turned eighteen.
It had been such a relief, coming to work at the Institute-where no one minded that she was nearly twenty, or demanded that she stare at the wal s, or cared whether she spoke before she was spoken to-that she had almost thought it worth the mutilation of her pretty face at the hands of her last employer. She still avoided looking at herself in mirrors if she could, but the dreadful horror of loss had faded. Jessamine mocked her for the long scar that disfigured her cheek, but the others seemed not to notice, save Will, who occasional y said something unpleasant, but in an almost perfunctory way, as if it were expected of him but his heart were not in it.
But that was all before she had fal en in love with Jem.
She recognized his voice now as he came down the hall, raised in laughter, and answering him was Miss Tessa. Sophie felt an odd little pressure against her chest. Jealousy. She despised herself for it, but it could not be stopped. Miss Tessa was always kind to her, and there was such enormous vulnerability in her wide gray eyes-such a need for a friend-that it was impossible to dislike her. And yet, the way Master Jem looked at her . . . and Tessa did not even seem to notice.
No. Sophie just couldnt bear to encounter the two of them in the hall, with Jem looking at Tessa the way he had been lately. Clutching the sweeping brush and bucket to her chest, Sophie opened the nearest door and ducked inside, closing it most of the way behind her. It was, like most of the rooms in the Institute, an unused bedroom, meant for visiting Shadowhunters. She would give the rooms a turn once a fortnight or so, unless someone was using them; otherwise they stood undisturbed. This one was quite dusty; motes danced in the light from the windows, and Sophie fought the urge to sneeze as she pressed her eye to the crack in the door.
She had been right. It was Jem and Tessa, coming toward her down the hall. They appeared entirely engaged with each other. Jem was carrying something-folded gear, it looked like-and Tessa was laughing at something he had said. She was looking a little down and away from him, and he was gazing at her, the way one did when one felt one was unobserved. He had that look on his face, that look he usual y got only when he was playing the violin, as if he were completely caught up and entranced.
Her heart hurt. He was so beautiful. She had always thought so. Most people went on about Will, how handsome he was, but she thought that Jem was a thousand times better-looking. He had the ethereal look of angels in paintings, and though she knew that the silvery color of his hair and skin was a result of the medicine he took for his il ness, she couldnt help finding it lovely too. And he was gentle, firm, and kind. The thought of his hands in her hair, stroking it back from her face, made her feel comforted, whereas usual y the thought of a man, even a boy, touching her made her feel vulnerable and ill. He had the most careful, beautiful y constructed hands. . . .
"I cant quite believe theyre coming tomorrow," Tessa was saying, turning her gaze back to Jem. "I feel as if Sophie and I are being tossed to Benedict Lightwood to appease him, like a dog with a bone. He cant really mind if were trained or not. He just wants his sons in the house to bother Charlotte. "
"Thats true," Jem acknowledged. "But why not take advantage of the training when its offered? Thats why Charlotte is trying to encourage Jessamine to take part. As for you, given your talent, even if-I should say, when-Mortmain is no longer a threat, there Will be others attracted to your power. You might do well to learn how to fend them off. "
Tessas hand went to the angel necklace at her throat, a habitual gesture Sophie suspected she was not even aware of. "I know what Jessie Will say.
Shel say the only thing she needs assistance fending off is handsome suitors. "
"Wouldnt she rather have help fending off the unattractive ones?"
"Not if theyre mundanes. " Tessa grinned. "Shed rather an ugly mundane than a handsome Shadowhunter any day. "
"That does put me right out of the running, doesnt it?" said Jem with mock chagrin, and Tessa laughed again.
"It is too bad," she said. "Someone as pretty as Jessamine ought to have her pick, but shes so determined that a Shadowhunter wont do-"
"You are much prettier," said Jem.
Tessa looked at him in surprise, her cheeks coloring. Sophie felt the twist of jealousy in her chest again, though she agreed with Jem. Jessamine was quite traditional y pretty, a pocket Venus if ever there was one, but her habitual sour expression spoiled her charms. Tessa, though, had a warm appeal, with her rich, dark, waving hair and sea gray eyes, that grew on you the longer you knew her. There was intel igence in her face, and humor, which Jessamine did not have, or at least did not display.
Jem paused in front of Miss Jessamines door, and knocked upon it.
When there was no answer, he shrugged, bent down, and placed a stack of dark fabric-gear-in front of the door.
"Shel never wear it. " Tessas face dimpled.
Jem straightened up. "I never agreed to wrestle her into the clothes, just deliver them. "
He started off down the hal way again, Tessa beside him. "I dont know how Charlotte can bear to talk to Brother Enoch so often. He gives me the horrors," she said.
"Oh, I dont know. I prefer to think that when theyre at home, the Silent Brothers are much like us. Playing practical jokes in the Silent City, making toasted cheese-"
"I hope they play charades," said Tessa dryly. "It would seem to take advantage of their natural talents. "
Jem burst out laughing, and then they were around the corner and out of sight. Sophie sagged against the door frame. She did not think she had ever made Jem laugh like that; she didnt think anyone had, except for Will. You had to know someone very well to make them laugh like that. She had loved him for such a long time, she thought. How was it that she did not know him at all?