The City of Fallen Angels (Mortal Instruments 4)(24)

“My, my,” said a cool, amused voice. “Only six weeks, and already at each other’s throats? How swiftly mortal love does fade.”

Releasing her hold on Jace, Clary whirled, though she already knew who it was. The Queen of the Seelie Court stood in the shadows between two trees. If Clary had not known she was there, she wondered if she would have seen her, even with the Sight. The Queen wore a gown as green as grass, and her hair, falling around her shoulders, was the color of a turning leaf. She was as beautiful and awful as a dying season. Clary had never trusted her.

“What are you doing here?” It was Jace, his eyes narrow. “This is a Shadowhunter place.”

“And I have news of interest to Shadowhunters.” As the Queen stepped gracefully forward, the sun lanced down through the trees and sparked off the circlet of golden berries she wore around her head. Clary sometimes wondered if the Queen planned these dramatic entrances, and if so, how. “There has been another death.” wondered if the Queen planned these dramatic entrances, and if so, how. “There has been another death.”

“What sort of death?”

“Another one of you. Dead Nephilim.” There was a certain relish to the way the Queen said it. “The body was found this dawn beneath Oak Bridge. As you know, the park is my domain. A human killing is not of concern to me, but the death did not seem to be one of mundane origins. The body was brought to the Court to be examined by my physicians.

They pronounced the dead mortal one of yours.”

Clary looked quickly at Jace, remembering the news of the dead Shadowhunter two days before. She could tell Jace was thinking the same thing; he had paled. “Where is the body?” he asked.

“Are you concerned about my hospitality? He bides in my court, and I assure you that we afford his body all the respect we would give a living Shadowhunter. Now that one of my own has a place on the Council beside you and yours, you can hardly doubt our good faith.”

“As always, good faith and my Lady go hand in hand.” The sarcasm in Jace’s voice was clear, but the Queen just smiled. She liked Jace, Clary had always thought, in that way that faeries liked pretty things because they were pretty. She did not think the Queen liked her, and the feeling was mutual. “And why are you giving this message to us, instead of to Maryse? Custom would indicate—”



“Oh, custom.” The Queen waved away convention with a flip of her hand. “You were here. It seemed expedient.”

Jace gave her another narrow look and flipped his cell phone open. He gestured at Clary to stay where she was, and walked a little ways away. She could hear him saying,

“Maryse?” as the phone was answered, and then his voice was swallowed up by shouts from the playing fields nearby.

With a feeling of cold dread, she looked back at the Queen. She had not seen the Lady of the Seelie Court since her last night in Idris, and then Clary had not exactly been polite to her. She doubted the Queen had forgotten or forgiven her for that. Would you truly refuse a favor from the Queen of the Seelie Court?

“I heard Meliorn got a seat on the Council,” Clary said now. “You must be pleased about that.”

“Indeed.” The Queen looked at her with amusement. “I am sufficiently delighted.”

“So,” Clary said. “No hard feelings, then?”

The Queen’s smile turned icy around the edges, like frost riming the sides of a pond. “I suppose you refer to my offer, which you so rudely declined,” she said. “As you know, my objective was accomplished regardless; the loss there, I imagine most would agree, was yours.”

“I didn’t want your deal.” Clary tried to keep the sharpness from her voice, and failed.

“People can’t do what you want all the time, you know.”

“Do not presume to lecture me, child.” The Queen’s eyes followed Jace, who was pacing at the edge of the trees, phone in hand. “He is beautiful,” she said. “I can see why you love him. But did you ever wonder what draws him to you?”

Clary said nothing to that; there seemed nothing to say.

“The blood of Heaven binds you,” said the Queen. “Blood calls to blood, under the skin.

But love and blood are not the same.”

“Riddles,” Clary said angrily. “Do you even mean anything when you talk like that?”

“He is bound to you,” said the Queen. “But does he love you?”

Clary felt her hands twitch. She longed to try out on the Queen some of the new fighting moves she’d learned, but she knew how unwise that would be. “Yes, he does.”

“And does he want you? For love and desire are not always as one.”

“That’s none of your business,” Clary said shortly, but she could see that the Queen’s eyes on her were as sharp as pins.

“You want him like you have never wanted anything else. But does he feel the same?”

The Queen’s soft voice was inexorable. “He could have anything or anyone he pleases.

Do you wonder why he chose you? Do you wonder if he regrets it? Has he changed toward you?”

Clary felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. “No, he hasn’t.” But she thought of his face in the elevator that night, and the way he had told her to go home when she’d offered to stay.