“Maybe it’s because there’s nothing to find,” Jesse said. “But maybe it’s because my mother hides things well. I saw her do it; she was often unaware of when I was watching.”
“All right,” said James, “then we’ll go tomorrow. There are enough of us to make a significant search party.” He hesitated. “After you see Grace, of course.”
Ariadne said, “We could go right now. I’m eager to do something. Aren’t all of you?”
“I can’t,” said James. “Nor Lucie, nor—more crucially—Jesse. We were only able to convince my parents to let us come here because it’s still daytime. If we aren’t back for dinner, they’ll send their own search party after us.”
“And while Chiswick won’t be the first place they look,” Lucie put in, “it’ll probably be the third or fourth. Searching Chiswick is a good idea,” she added. “But there must be something we can do to try to help Cordelia, too. I don’t expect to find anything about Lilith, or paladins, among Tatiana’s things.”
Cordelia took a deep breath. “She is still very much watching me. She sent demons to attack us, in Paris. So that I would fight back and summon her.”
“What?” said Alastair and James at the same time. They glared at each other for a moment, before Alastair demanded, “For what purpose? What did she want?”
“She assumed I’d still have Cortana,” she said. “Once she realized I didn’t, it was mostly taunting and threats.”
“Do we know of anything that can hurt Lilith?” Thomas said. “Cortana could, of course, but… it’s not an option.”
Lucie brightened. “Why, James’s revolver, of course. That’s how we sent her away last time.”
“It only seemed to damage her temporarily,” Cordelia pointed out. “She left, but she didn’t appear wounded at all when I saw her in Paris.”
Christopher said, “The revolver was blessed with the names of three angels—Sanvi, Sansanvi, and Semangelaf. They are enemies of Lilith. I mean, I suppose all angels are enemies of Lilith. But they are particularly her enemies. Perhaps we could make use of the power of those angels in some other fashion to dispatch her?”
To Cordelia’s surprise, Alastair spoke up. “Or what if we tried to find, or summon, the real Wayland the Smith? He must be one of the most powerful beings alive, if he’s still alive. Surely he’d be vexed to learn that a demon had impersonated him?”
“A good thought,” said James, and Alastair looked a little surprised to have James’s approval. Thomas smiled at him, but he was looking down at his feet and didn’t appear to notice.
“And we must keep in mind,” said Jesse, “that Belial and my—that Belial and Tatiana are using each other. She is using him that she might find a way to have revenge against those she hates: Herondales, Lightwoods, Carstairs, Fairchilds. Even the Silent Brothers. What he is using her for, we do not yet know. But I expect it will be an important part of his plan.”
There was a short silence. Then, “I think,” Christopher cried, “that this will call for some significant research!”
This seemed to punctuate the meeting in some way, and immediately the larger conversation broke down into chatter. Christopher began trying to recruit fellow researchers, whereas Lucie began organizing who would go to Chiswick House and when they would meet. Only Matthew sat where he was, his eyes closed, looking green around the gills. Hungover, Cordelia thought sadly. She wished—but it didn’t matter what she wished. She’d learned that again in Paris.
As discreetly as she could, she slipped out of her seat to approach James. He was standing by one of the shelves of books, running a finger along the spines, clearly looking for something.
“James—I need to speak to you in private,” she said quietly.
He looked down at her. His golden eyes seemed to burn in his pale, intent face. For a moment there was no one in the room but the two of them. “Really?”
She realized, belatedly, that what she’d said must have seemed to him as if she were saying she wished to speak to him about their marriage. She could feel her cheeks turning pink. “It’s about something I heard,” she said. “In Paris. I thought we’d better talk at the Institute before alarming everyone. Lucie ought to be there too,” she added.
He remained motionless for a moment, his hand on a thick book of demonology. Then, “Of course,” he said, turning away from the shelves. “We can speak at the Institute. And if you like, you can stay for supper.”
“Thank you.” Cordelia watched as James stepped away to say something to Christopher and Matthew. She felt stiff, uncomfortable, and it was nearly unbearable feeling uncomfortable around James—James, of all people.
Her heart felt like a rag, wrung out but still saturated with stubborn, ineradicable love. She could not help wondering: If there had never been a Grace, would James have fallen in love with her? Would she and James have found happiness together, a simple, direct happiness that was now forever out of reach? Even in her wildest dreams, she found it impossible to picture what that happy ending would have been like. Perhaps she ought to have learned something from that before all this, she thought; if one could not even imagine something, surely it indicated that thing was never meant to happen?
12 THE SEEING ONES
And you have known him from his origin,
You tell me; and a most uncommon urchin
He must have been to the few seeing ones—
A trifle terrifying, I dare say,
Discovering a world with his man’s eyes,