Clockwork Princess (The Infernal Devices, #3)(71)

He would find her. He would find her and bring her back home, and even if she never loved him, it would be all right, he would have done this for her, for himself. He spun back toward Balios, who looked at him balefully. Will swung himself up into the saddle.

“Come on, old boy,” he said. “The sun’s going down, and we ought to make Hockliffe by nightfall, for it looks liable to rain.” He dug his heels into the horse’s sides, and Balios, as if he had understood his rider’s words, took off like a shot.

“He has gone off to Wales alone?” Charlotte demanded. “How could you have let him do something so—so stupid?”

Magnus shrugged. “It is not my responsibility now, nor will it ever be my responsibility, to manage wayward Shadowhunters. In fact, I am not sure why I am to blame. I spent the night in the library waiting for Will to come and talk to me, which he never did. Eventually I fell asleep in the Rabies and Lycanthropy section. Woolsey bites on occasion, and I’m concerned.”

No one really responded to this information, although Charlotte looked more upset than ever. It had been a quiet breakfast as it was, with quite a few of them missing from the table. Will’s absence had not been surprising. They had assumed Will was at his parabatai’s side. So it had not been until Cyril had burst in, breathless and agitated, to report that Balios was gone from his stall, that the alarm had been raised.

A search of the Institute turned up Magnus Bane asleep in a corner of the library. Charlotte had shaken him awake. On being asked where he thought Will might be, Magnus had replied quite candidly that he expected that Will had already left for Wales, with the object of discovering Tessa’s whereabouts and bringing her back to the Institute, whether by stealth or main force. This information, much to his surprise, had thrown Charlotte into a panic, and she had convened a meeting in the library, at which all the Shadowhunters of the Institute, save Jem, were commanded to appear—even Gideon, who had arrived limping and leaning heavily on a stick.

“Does anyone know when Will left?” Charlotte demanded, standing at the head of a long table around which the rest of them were seated.

Cecily, her hands folded demurely before her, suddenly became very interested in the pattern of the carpet.

“That is a very fine gem you’re wearing, Cecily,” Charlotte noted, narrowing her eyes at the ruby about the girl’s throat. “I don’t recall you having that necklace yesterday. In fact, I recall Will wearing it. When did he give it to you?”

Cecily crossed her arms over her chest. “I will say nothing. Will’s decisions are his own, and we already tried to explain to the Consul what needed to be done. Since the Clave will not help, Will took matters into his own hands. I don’t know why you expected anything different.”

“I did not think he would leave Jem,” said Charlotte, and then she looked shocked that she had said it. “I … I cannot even imagine how we will tell him when he wakes.”

“Jem knows—” Cecily began indignantly, but she was interrupted, to her surprise, by Gabriel.

“Of course he knows,” he said. “Will is only doing his duty as a parabatai. He is doing what Jem would be doing if he could. He has gone in Jem’s place. It is only what a parabatai should do.”

“You are defending Will?” Gideon said. “After the way you’ve always treated him? After telling Jem on dozens of occasions that he had dismal taste in parabatai?”

“Will may be a reprehensible person, but at least this demonstrates that he is not a reprehensible Shadowhunter,” said Gabriel, and then, catching Cecily’s look, he added, “He might not be that reprehensible a person, either. In entirety.”

“A very magnanimous statement, Gideon,” said Magnus.

“I’m Gabriel.”

Magnus waved a hand. “All Lightwoods look the same to me—”

“Ahem,” Gideon interrupted, before Gabriel could pick up something and throw it at Magnus. “Regardless of Will’s personal qualities and failings or anyone’s inability to tell one Lightwood from another, the question remains: Do we go after Will?”

“If Will had wanted help, he wouldn’t have ridden off in the middle of the night without telling anyone,” said Cecily.

“Yes,” said Gideon, “because Will is well known for his carefully thought-out and prudent decision making.”

“He did steal our fastest horse,” Henry pointed out. “That bespeaks forethought, of a sort.”

“We cannot allow Will to ride off to battle Mortmain alone. He’ll be slaughtered,” Gideon said. “If he really did leave in the midst of the night, we might yet be able to overtake him on the road—”

“Fastest horse,” reminded Henry, and Magnus snorted under his breath.

“Actually, it is not an inevitable slaughter,” Gabriel said. “We could all ride off after Will, certainly, but the fact is that such a force, sent against the Magister, would be more noticeable than one boy on horseback. Will’s best hope is remaining undetected. After all, he is not riding off to war. He is going to save Tessa. Stealth and secrecy best behoove such a mission—”

Charlotte slammed her hand down on the table with such force that the sound reverberated through the room. “All of you be silent,” she said, in such a commanding tone that even Magnus looked alarmed. “Gabriel, Gideon, you are both correct. It is better for Will if we do not follow him, and we cannot allow one of our own to perish. It is also true that the Magister is beyond our reach; the Council will meet to decide on that matter. There is nothing we can do about that now. Therefore we must bend all our energies to saving Jem. He is dying, but not dead. Part of Will’s strength relies on him, and he is one of our own. He has finally given us permission to seek a cure for him, and therefore we must do that.”