Clockwork Princess (The Infernal Devices, #3)(31)

“And I am not a Shadowhunter,” said Tessa.

There was a silence. Then: “Hmm,” Magnus said, and turned away from the fire. “I understand, Tessa, that you are to be congratulated?”

“I …”

“On your engagement to James Carstairs.”

“Oh.” She flushed, and her hand went to her throat, where she always wore Jem’s mother’s necklace, his gift to her. “Yes. Thank you.”

Will felt rather than saw Woolsey’s eyes on all three of them—Magnus, Tessa, and himself—sliding from one to the other, the mind behind the eyes examining, deducing, enjoying.

Will’s shoulders tightened. “I would be happy to offer anything,” he said. “This time. Another favor, or whatever you wanted, for the yin fen. If it’s payment, I could arrange—that is, I could try—”

“I may have helped you before,” Magnus said. “But this—” He sighed. “Think, the pair of you. If someone is buying up all the yin fen in the country, then it is someone who has a reason. And who has a reason to do that?”

“Mortmain,” Tessa whispered before Will could say it. He could still remember his own voice:

“Mortmain’s minions have been buying up the yin fen supply in the East End. I confirmed it. If you had run out and he was the only one with a supply …”

“We would have been put in his power,” said Jem. “Unless you were willing to let me die, of course, which would be the sensible course of action.”

But with enough yin fen to last them twelve months, Will had thought there was no danger. Had thought that Mortmain would find some other way to harry and torment them, for surely he would see this plan could not work. Will had not expected a year’s worth of the drug to be gone in eight weeks.

“You do not want to help us,” Will said. “You do not want to position yourself as an enemy of Mortmain’s.”

“Well, can you blame him?” Woolsey rose in a whirl of yellow silk. “What could you possibly have to offer that would make the risk worth it to him?”

“I will give you anything,” said Tessa in a low voice that Will felt in his bones. “Anything at all, if you can help us help Jem.”

Magnus gripped a handful of his black hair. “God, the two of you. I can make inquiries. Track down some of the more unusual shipping routes. Old Molly—”

“I’ve been to her,” Will said. “Something’s frightened her so badly, she won’t even crawl out of her grave.”

Woolsey snorted. “And that doesn’t tell you anything, little Shadowhunter? Is it really worth all this, just to stretch your friend’s life out another few months, another year? He will die anyway. And the sooner he dies, the sooner you can have his fiancée, the one you’re in love with.” He cut his amused gaze toward Tessa. “Really you ought to be counting with great eagerness the days till he expires.”

Will did not know what happened after that; everything went suddenly white, and Woolsey’s monocle was flying across the room. Will’s head hit something painfully, and the werewolf was under him, kicking and swearing, and they were rolling across the rug, and there was a sharp pain in his wrist, where Woolsey had clawed him. The pain cleared his head, and he was aware that Woolsey was pinning him to the ground, his eyes gone yellow and his teeth bared and as sharp as daggers, ready to bite.

“Stop it. Stop it!” Tessa, by the fire, had seized up a poker; Will choked and put his hand against Woolsey’s face, pushing him away. Woolsey yelled, and suddenly the weight was off Will’s chest; Magnus had lifted the werewolf and shoved him away. Then Magnus’s hands were fisted in the back of Will’s jacket, and Will found himself being dragged from the room, Woolsey staring after him, one hand to his face where Will’s silver ring had burned his cheekbone.

“Let me go. Let me go!” Will struggled, but Magnus’s grip was like iron. He marched Will down the corridor and into a half-lit library. Will pulled free just as Magnus let go of him, resulting in an inelegant stumble that fetched him up against the back of a red velvet sofa. “I cannot leave Tessa alone with Woolsey—”

“Her virtue is hardly in danger from him,” Magnus said dryly. “Woolsey will behave himself, which is more than I can say for you.”

Will turned around slowly, wiping blood from his face. “You’re glaring at me,” he said to Magnus. “You look like Church before he bites someone.”

“Picking a fight with the head of the Praetor Lupus,” Magnus said bitterly. “You know what his pack would do to you if they had an excuse. You want to die, don’t you?”

“I don’t,” Will said, surprising even himself a little.

“I don’t know why I ever helped you.”

“You like broken things.”

Magnus took two strides across the room and seized Will’s face in his long fingers, forcing his chin up. “You are not Sydney Carton,” he said. “What good will it do you to die for James Carstairs, when he is dying anyway?”

“Because if I save him, then it is worth it—”

“God!” Magnus’s eyes narrowed. “What is worth it? What could possibly be worth it?”

“Everything I have lost!” Will shouted. “Tessa!”