Nate shook his head. “Once I agreed to send for you, he kept me trapped in his town house. He had me send a letter to Mortmain, of course, resigning from his employment; the poor man must have thought I was throwing his generosity back in his face. De Quincey wasn’t planning on taking his eyes off me until he had you in hand, Tessie; I was his insurance. He gave the Dark Sisters my ring to prove to you that I was in their power. He promised me over and over that he wouldn’t hurt you, that he was simply having the Sisters teach you to use your power. The Dark Sisters reported on your progress every day, so I knew you were still alive.

“Since I was there in the house anyway, I found myself observing the workings of the Pandemonium Club. I saw that there was an organization to the ranks. There were those who were very low down, clinging to the fringes, like Mortmain and his ilk. De Quincey and the higher-ups mostly kept them around because they had money, and they teased them with little glimpses of magic and the Shadow World to keep them coming back for more. Then there were those such as the Dark Sisters and others, those who had more power and responsibility in the club. They were all supernatural creatures, no humans. And then, at the top, was de Quincey. The others called him the Magister.

“They often held meetings to which the humans and those lower down weren’t invited. That was where I first heard about Shadowhunters. De Quincey despises Shadowhunters,” Nate said, turning to Henry and Charlotte. “He has a grudge against them—against you. He kept talking about how much better things would be when Shadowhunters were destroyed and Downworlders could live and trade in peace—”

“What tosh.” Henry looked genuinely offended. “Don’t know what kind of peace he thinks there’d be, without Shadowhunters.”

“He talked about how there’d never been a way to defeat Shadowhunters before because their weapons were so superior. He said the legend was that God had meant the Nephilim to be superior warriors, so no living creature could destroy them. So, apparently he thought, ‘Why not a creature who wasn’t living at all?’”

“The automatons,” said Charlotte. “His machine army.”

Nate looked puzzled. “You’ve seen them?”

“A few of them attacked your sister last night,” said Will. “Fortunately, we Shadowhunter monsters were around to save her.”

“Not that she was doing too badly by herself,” Jem murmured.

“Do you know anything about the machines?” Charlotte demanded, leaning forward eagerly. “Anything at all? Did de Quincey ever talk about them in front of you?”

Nate shrank back in his chair. “He did, but I didn’t understand most of it. I don’t have a mechanical mind, really—”

“It’s simple.” It was Henry, using the tone of someone trying to calm a frightened cat. “Right now these machines of de Quincey’s just run on mechanisms. They have to be wound up, like clocks. But we found a copy of a spell in his library that indicates that he’s trying to find a way to make them live, a way to bind demon energy to the clockwork shell and bring it to life.”

“Oh, that! Yes, he talked about that,” Nathaniel replied, like a child pleased to be able to give the right answer in a schoolroom. Tessa could practically see the ears of the Shadowhunters pricking up with excitement. This was what they really wanted to know. “That’s what he hired the Dark Sisters for—not just for training Tessa. They’re warlocks, you know, and they were meant to be figuring out how it could be done. And they did. It wasn’t long ago—a few weeks—but they did.”

“They did?” Charlotte looked shocked. “But, then why hasn’t de Quincey done it yet? What’s he waiting for?”

Nate looked from her anxious face to Tessa’s, and all around the room. “I—I thought you knew. He said the binding charm could only be generated at the full moon. When that happens, the Dark Sisters will get to work, and then—he’s got dozens of the things stored in his hideaway, and I know he plans to make many more—hundreds, thousands, perhaps. I suppose he’ll animate them, and …”

“The full moon?” Charlotte, glancing toward the window, bit her lip. “That will be very soon—tomorrow night, I think.”

Jem straightened up like a shot. “I can check the lunar tables in the library. I’ll be right back.” He vanished through the door.

Charlotte turned to Nate. “You’re quite sure about this?”

Nate nodded, swallowing hard. “When Tessa escaped from the Dark Sisters, de Quincey blamed me, even though I hadn’t known anything about it. He told me he was going to let the Night Children drain my blood as a punishment. He kept me imprisoned for days before the party. He didn’t care what he said in front of me then. He knew I was going to die. I heard him talking about how the Sisters had mastered the binding spell. That it wasn’t going to be long before the Nephilim were destroyed, and all the members of the Pandemonium Club could rule London in their stead.”

Will spoke, his voice harsh. “Have you any idea where de Quincey might be hiding now that his house has burned?”

Nate looked exhausted. “He has a hideaway in Chelsea. He would have gone to ground there with those who are loyal to him—there are still probably a hundred vampires of his clan who weren’t at the town house that night. I know exactly where the place is. I can show you on a map—” He broke off as Jem burst into the room, his eyes very wide.

“It’s not tomorrow,” Jem said. “The full moon. It’s tonight.”

17

CALL THE

DARKNESS DOWN

The old church tower and garden wall

Are black with autumn rain,

And dreary winds foreboding call

The darkness down again.

—Emily Brontë, “The Old Church Tower”

While Charlotte dashed to the library to notify the Enclave that emergency action would need to be taken that evening, Henry remained in the drawing room with Nathaniel and the others. He was surprisingly patient as Nate painstakingly indicated on a map of London the spot where he believed de Quincey’s hideaway to be—a house in Chelsea, near the Thames. “I don’t know which one it is exactly,” Nate said, “so you’ll have to be careful.”

“We are always careful,” Henry said, ignoring Will’s wry look in his direction. Not long after that, however, he sent Will and Jem to the weapons room with Thomas to ready a stock of seraph blades and other armaments. Tessa remained in the drawing room with Jessamine and Nate while Henry hurried off to the crypt to retrieve some of his more recent inventions.

As soon as the others had gone, Jessamine commenced fluttering around Nate—building up the fire for him, going to fetch another blanket to wrap around his shoulders, and offering to find a book to read aloud to him, which he declined. If Jessamine was hoping to win Nate’s heart by fussing over him, Tessa thought, she would be in for a disappointment. Nate expected to be fussed over and would hardly notice her special attentions.

“So what’s going to happen now?” he asked finally, half-buried under a mound of blankets. “Mr. and Mrs. Branwell—”

“Oh, call them Henry and Charlotte. Everyone does,” Jessamine said.

“They’ll be notifying the Enclave—that’s all the rest of London’s Shadowhunters—of the location of de Quincey’s hideaway, so they can plan an attack,” said Tessa. “But really, Nate, you shouldn’t be worrying about these things. You should be resting.”

“So it’ll just be us.” Nate’s eyes were closed. “In this big old place. Seems strange.”

“Oh, Will and Jem won’t be going with them,” said Jessamine. “I heard her talking to them in the weapons room when I went to get the blanket.”

Nate’s eyes opened. “They won’t?” He sounded astonished. “Why not?”

“They’re too young,” said Jessamine. “Shadowhunters are considered adults at eighteen, and for this kind of undertaking—something dangerous that the whole Enclave is participating in—they tend to leave the younger ones at home.”

Tessa felt a strange little pang of relief, which she covered by asking hurriedly, “But that’s so odd. They let Will and Jem go to de Quincey’s—”

“And that’s why they can’t go now. Apparently, Benedict Lightwood is arguing that the raid on de Quincey’s turned out as badly as it did because Will and Jem are insufficiently trained, though how any of it was meant to be Jem’s fault, I’m not sure. If you ask me, he wants an excuse to make Gabriel stay at home, even though he’s already eighteen. He babies him horribly. Charlotte said he told her that there have been whole Enclaves wiped out in a single night before, and the Nephilim have an obligation to leave the younger generation standing, to carry on, as it were.”

Tessa’s stomach twisted. Before she could say anything, the door opened and Thomas came in. He was carrying a stack of folded clothes. “These are old things of Master Jem’s,” he said to Nate, looking slightly embarrassed. “It looks like you might be about the same size, and, well, you ought to have something to wear. If you’ll accompany me back to your room, we can see if they fit.”

Jessamine rolled her eyes. Tessa wasn’t sure why. Perhaps she thought castoffs weren’t good enough for Nate.

“Thank you, Thomas,” Nate said, rising to his feet. “And I must tender my apologies for my earlier behavior, when I, ah, hid from you. I must have been feverish. That’s the only explanation.”

Thomas flushed. “Just doing my job, sir.”

“Perhaps you should get some sleep,” Tessa said, noting the dark rings of exhaustion around her brother’s eyes. “There won’t be much for us to do now, not until they return.”

“Actually,” Nate said, looking from Jessamine to Tessa, “I think I’ve had enough of rest. A fellow ought to get back on his feet eventually, oughtn’t he? I could stand to eat a bite of something, and I wouldn’t mind some company. If you wouldn’t mind my joining you here once I’m dressed?”

“Of course not!” Jessamine looked delighted. “I’ll ask Agatha to prepare something light. And perhaps a game of cards to keep us occupied after we eat. Sandwiches and tea, I think.” She clapped her hands together as Thomas and Nate left the room, and turned to Tessa, her eyes bright. “Won’t that be fun?”

“Cards?” Tessa, who had been shocked nearly speechless by Jessamine’s suggestion, found her voice. “You think we ought to play cards? While Henry and Charlotte are off fighting de Quincey?”

Jessamine tossed her head. “As if our moping around would help them! I’m sure they’d rather we were cheerful and active in their absence rather than idle and morose.”

Tessa frowned. “I really don’t think,” she said, “that suggesting cards to Nate was a kind idea, Jessamine. You know perfectly well he has … trouble … with gambling.”