⋆ ˚ 。⋆ ✧ ⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼⎼ ✧ ⋆ 。˚ ⋆

CHAPTER THIRTY: RUTHLESS HEART

❛who are you when nobody's watching?❜

⋆ ✧ ⋆

The deafening explosion that embraced the library as soon as Julian read Malcolm's message awoke a symphony of concerned cries and sharp breaths. An arrow of black light blazed from the crumpled piece of paper, shaking the grounds of the Institute and shattering the glass cupola that rose above the Shadowhunters.

Everyone trusted their instincts, running toward and shielding the person closest to them. Ty threw himself toward Livvy at the same time as Cristina broke from Mark and saved Diego from being crushed by a large bookshelf. Theodore took it upon himself to cover Emma with his body, mirroring Julian's technique of saving his younger sister, Dru. Mark and Zoya shared a meaningful glance before gracefully avoiding the shattering pieces of glass that lunged in their way with a few short strides.

Amid the catastrophic commotion, Zoya noticed Julian glancing at the growing black illumination before he threw Malcolm's note to the ground and crushed it with his foot. A moment later, the blackness dissolved into tiny speckles and allowed a curtain of smoke to replace it.

Aside from a few strangled coughs, cold silence ruled over the room, allowing the disturbed mind of Shadowhunters to calm down.

"Is everyone all right?" Zoya rubbed her eyes, taking it upon herself to check on others.

From the corner of her eye, she could spot Livvy wriggling her way from beneath Ty and offering him her hand. "Ty, you didn't have to do that," she spoke, voice filled with worry as she met her twin's eyes.

"You wanted to have someone to shield you from danger," he replied. "That's what you said."

"I know, butー"

Ty's lips parted and a painful yelp abandoned his mouth. An asymmetrical glass shard protruded the back of his calf, nearly knocking him back to the ground.

The boy reacted without thinking, seizing the piece with his fingers and pulling it out before staggering into the nearest chair. A river of crimson glided down his leg, introducing his pain to the world around him.

"Ty!" Julian was quick on his feet, offering to draw an iratze.

Ty merely shook his head. "Let Livvy do it," he said. "It would be betterー"

His twin was already kneeling on the tiles, stele firmly gripped in between her fingers. Her forehead was creased with light lines, lips pursed as she concentrated on drawing the healing rune.

"Let me see the cut," Julian pleaded from beside Livvy, hand protectively resting on her shoulder.

The brunette girl slowly moved from the view, allowing Julian to move closer. The wound stretched across the side of Ty's calf, red and bloody, but closed.

"Another iratze should fix it," Diego commented, looking over Julian's shoulder. His well-toned arms were folded over his chest, dark eyebrows knitted together. "And a blood-replacement rune."

Zoya could notice Julian's jaw clenching. Though he had never openly shown his dislike toward the Centurion, the girl could tell that he was annoyed by Diego's advice of how he should be treating his siblings' injuries.

"Diego," Zoya said, sparing the boy a warning glance. "Maybe you should just let Jules take care of this. I think he knows what he is doing."

The dark-haired boy nodded as he stepped back, his hands lifted in a defensive manner. On the other end of the room, Emma and Theodore helped each other up and moved closer to Zoya. The same thread of concern was woven into their irises.

"You all right?" The Montclaire Shadowhunter questioned his childhood friend.

Zoya nodded steadily, allowing her eyes to examine Theo and Emma. Her parabatai seemed fine, save for the particles of dust that covered her clothes. Theodore, on the other hand, had a long gash running across his cheekbone; a trophy for his heroic act of rescuing Emma from the broken glass.

"Are the two of you?" Zoya mused, lips pressing together.

"Fine," Emma reassured, stealing a glance at the bronze-skinned boy. "Mr. Knight-in-Shining-Armor here saved me."

"It's becoming a habit, it seems," Theo chuckled, gently elbowing the blonde girl and earning a cold glare.

"Don't push it," Emma cut him off, her fingers firmly clutching around the boy's upper arm.

The Caldwell girl offered her friends an amusing smile before turning her attention to Ty.

"I don't know what happened," he said, eyes wide in confusion. "I wasn't expecting it ー I should have been expecting it."

"Ty, no one could have expected that," Emma reasoned, eyebrows joined together. "I mean, Julian said some words, and boom, Hell's tractor beam."

"Is anyone else hurt?" Julian rose to his feet, taking in the sight of everyone. His eyes seemed to double check the group, saving the raven-haired girl for the last. A weak smile was passed to her before the Blackthorn boy inhaled a deep breath and nodded to himself. "Malcolm must have enchanted the paper to set off that signal as soon as it was read."

"It is a signal," Mark informed his brother, a sheer look of disturbance passing across his features. "I have felt this before, in the Unseelie Court, when black enchantments were brewing. That was dark magic."

"We should go straight to the Clave." Julian shook his head, completely serious. "Secrecy doesn't matter, punishments don't matter, not when Tavvy's life is at risk. I'll take the entire blame on myself."

"You will not take any blame," Mark argued, "that I do not also take."

Julian remained wordless, taking a moment to search his pockets before he turned to Emma. "Emma, can I have your phone?"

The blonde girl blinked in confusion, but produced her device without questioning. She pressed the button to turn it on, but nothing happened. "It's dead."

"That's strange," said Julian. "Didn't you just call Rook?"

"You can use mine," Cristina offered, reaching into her jacket. "Here itー" Her eyebrows knitted together. "It's dead too."

Ty shook his head, slowly sliding off the chair. His lips were pressed together, suppressing a wince as he walked with his sister. "We'll check the computer and the landline phone."

The twins strolled out of the library in a hurry, leaving the older Nephilim to examine the mess of sharp glass and broken wood that was left behind.

Drusilla gasped loudly, her eyes wide as she glanced at the damaged ceiling. "Look ー there's someone at the skylight."

Zoya wasted no time in following the girl's instructions. Her eyes focused on the asymmetrical circle that allowed view to the night sky, making out a pale face within.

Mark was the first one to react ー letting out a loud huff before lunging up the curving ramp and toward the broken oculus. With a few unintelligible words escaping his lips, his hands found a way into the dark material of the shirt of their visitor and pulled him down the stairs, creating a mess of rolling limbs.

Zoya didn't need much time to recognize the boy who managed to awake Mark's anger so quickly. Kieran's black hair flashed against the witchlight, a dagger pressed to his throat before anyone could protest.

"I should kill you right here," Mark sneered in Kieran's face, eyes blazing with rage. "I should cut your throat."

Dru flinched at Mark's angry words, but much to Zoya's surprise, Diego had already been by her side and comfortingly rubbing her shoulders.

Kieran returned the cold glare to Mark, exposing his neck to the boy even more. He bravely tested Mark's patience. "Go ahead," he said. "Kill me."

"Why are you here?" Mark inquired, aware that Kieran's words were empty.

Julian observed the scene with caution, hand curled around a throwing knife that rested at his hip. Zoya knew that he was ready to interfere in case things took a dark turn.

Mark readjusted his grip on the weapon he was holding, knuckles growing pale. "Why are you here? Why would you come to this place where you know that you're hated? Why do you want to make me kill you?"

"Mark," Kieran proceeded slowly, allowing himself to touch Mark's wrist. His eyes had softened, locks of dark blue spilling across his forehead. "Mark, please."

Mark ripped his hand out of Kieran's. "I could forgive you if it was me you whipped," he countered. "But you touched the ones I love; that I cannot forgive. You should bleed as Zoya and Emma bled."

"Don'tーMarkー" Emma's voice was alarmed, as if unsure of Mark's next move.

"I came to help you," Kieran voiced out.

A hollow chuckle escaped Mark's throat. "Your help is not wanted here."

"I know about Malcolm Fade," Kieran breathed. "I know he took your brother."

Julian's shoulders tensed, blue-green eyes hardening. "Let him go, Mark," he said. "If he knows anything about Tavvy ー we have to find out what it is. Let him go."

Mark seemed hesitant.

"Mark," Cristina whispered quietly, eyes pleading as they met Mark's. There was an unspoken understanding and buried empathy in the shared glance; something only the two of them understood.

The blond boy scoffed loudly, angrily ripping himself from Kieran. He strode backwards up until he stood shoulder to shoulder with his brother. His bicolored irises remained glued to the Unseelie prince, observing him as he rose up and straightened before his family.

Zoya couldn't help but wonder what happened to him. His clothes were torn and bloodstained, much like the skin of his face. Light purple bruises were barely visible, but remained nevertheless ー willing to testify of life's hardship. Kieran didn't seem to mind them; his shoulders weren't trembling, but his gaze reeked of hopelessness.

"Everything's knocked out!" Livvy bursted into the room, Ty trailing behind. "All the phones, the computers, even the radiosー"

Her pupils dilated as soon as she took in the sight of Kieran.

"I am Kieran of the Wild Hunt," Kieran introduced himself, bowing lightly.

"One of the faerie convoy?" Livvy's gaze was on her brothers. "One of the ones who whipped Emma and Zoya?"

Julian nodded firmly, lips pressed into a flat line.

Ty's gaze sought Mark's. "Why is he still alive?"

"He knows about Tavvy," Drusilla joined the conversation. "Julian, make him tell usー"

Without blinking, Julian released the dagger he was clutching onto. Harsh and precise, the weapon flew close to Kieran's left cheek and into the window frame behind the boy.

"You will tell us now," Julian spoke in deadly tones, "everything you know about where Octavian is, what's going on, and how we can get him back. Or I will spill your blood on the floor of this library. I've spilled faerie blood before. Don't think I won't do it again."

Zoya swallowed a gulp that rested in her throat. She could feel the tension brewing, bubbling like hot water would. There was no doubt in her mind that Julian would fulfill his threat if Kieran tried double-crossing them.

"There is no need to threaten me," Kieran replied, "though if it pleases you, do it; it makes no difference to me. I came to tell you what you want to know. That is why I am here. The black light you just saw was faerie magic. It was meant to knock out all communication, so that you could not call for help from the Clave or Conclave. So that you could not seek help or save your brother."

"We could try to find a pay phone," Livvy suggested hesitantly, "or a restaurant phone, down on the highwayー"

"You will discover that phone lines have been knocked out for several miles," Kieran pointed out, his words alarmed. "I beg you not to waste time. Fade has taken your brother, already, to the ley line convergence. It is the place where he performs his sacrifices. The place he plans to kill him. If you wish to rescue the boy, you must take up your weapons and go after him now."

⋆ ✧ ⋆

"Everyone," Julian commanded as he flung the door of the weapons room open. "Arm yourselves. If you're not in gear, get in gear. Diego, Theo, Cristina, there's gear hanging on the east wall. Take it, it'll be faster than going back to your rooms. Use any weapons you want. Kieran, you stay right there." He gestured toward the middle of the room, deadly serious. "Where I can see you. Don't move or the next blade I throw at you won't miss."

Kieran sent him an almost arrogant glance, though Zoya could decipher a speck of vulnerability beneath. "I believe it."

The obsidian-haired girl kept on inspecting the faerie prince from the corner of her eye, allowing the well-processed black armor to hug her skin. It was heavier than the patrol gear she was used to wearing, applying pressure to her scarred back and making her draw in a shallow breath.

She pushed all the feelings aside without thinking twice. The light throbs would not prevent her from fighting for Tavvy, just how Dru's young age didn't prevent her from demanding to join the mission. Just how Ty wouldn't let his injury rule over him; he had fiercely argued with Julian, claiming that joining the battle was the only thing he had wanted to do.

None of them were safe, that much was certain. Kieran had somehow managed to sneak into the Institute and there was no way they were letting Dru ーor anyone else ー stay there alone, especially when the probability of exposure to danger was so high. In that moment, they were the safest together ー fighting for the life of the youngest Blackthorn without asking too many questions.

Zoya eagerly laced her boots before straightening herself up and examining the interior of the weapons room. Windowless, the room was embraced in darkness, illuminations of seraph blades and witchlight serving as the only contrasts.

Everyone within worked like a well-oiled machine. Mark readied himself with determination, blood boiling beneath his skin as he thought of his youngest sibling. Emma, already dressed, was preparing seraph blades for her friends. Livvy and Ty were exchanging hushed words, faces growing serious as they glanced at Dru.

"Zoya?" Julian approached the raven-haired girl, face unreadable as he spared her a worried look. His lips were pressed against each other, forehead creasing lightly. Much like everyone else, he was wearing heavy, dark armor, daggers and seraph blades hanging from his belt. "Are you all right?"

She wished that she could have answered affirmatively, but the truth brimmed at her lips and urged her to be let out. Her mind was a battlefield; sirens howled and alarmed the rest of her body in a fascinating manner. The thought of Tavvy facing Malcolm ー facing the possibility of dying ー alone sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine.

"Are you?"

Julian, like her, remained silent.

It was an answer that spoke for itself. Julian was terrified; scared out of his mind that he would let his brother down, terrorized that he would lose a piece of himself ー his Tavs.

"We'll save him," Zoya whispered comfortingly, wanting to lace her fingers with Julian's for a brief moment, but she knew she couldn't. There were too many eyes. "I promise you."

"I know," he nodded, the right corner of his mouth tugging up. "Be careful."

"I will," she reassured, letting Julian slip out of her orbit and reach for a weapons belt that rested on the shelf above the Caldwell Shadowhunter.

"Talk." Julian ordered as he spun on his feet, passing Kieran a firm glare. "That black light, you said it was 'faerie magic'. Did you mean dark magic?"

Leaning against the long table, with arms folded over his chest, Kieran appeared bored. His eyes, though, made sure to be aware of the location of Nephilim's sharp weapons.

"The question is whether it will show up on the Clave's map," Ty clarified, buckling his gauntlets. "The one Magnus uses to track dark magic use. Or is that blocked like the cell phones?"

"It was Unseelie magic, but not dark in nature," Kieran answered. "It will not show itself on the map. They were very sure of that."

Julian's forehead creased. "Who is they? In fact, how do you know so much about Malcolm?"

"Because of Iarlath," confessed Kieran.

Mark's gaze flew up instantly. "Iarlath? What has he to do with this?"

"I thought you knew that at least," Kieran uttered, palms curling around the desk's edge. "Iarlath and Malcolm have been in this together since the attack on the Institute five years ago."

"What?" Zoya echoed, wide-eyed. "You mean, they're allies?"

"How long have you known?" Mark demanded.

"Only a short time," Kieran responded. "I became suspicious when Iarlath so strongly refused to allow you to come back to Faerie. He wished you to stay here, so much so that he staged that charade of punishment with the whipping so that you would not return with us. After that I realized there was more to the plan of having you here at the Institute than finding the murderer who had taken faerie lives. It was about preventing anyone in your family from being able to go to the Clave until it was too late."

Emma came to stand beside Zoya; Cortana was fastened to her back, just how Lazarus rested at Zoya's waist. She passed her parabatai a seraph blade before looking at Kieran.

"Iarlath said something to us when he was ー when he was whipping us," Emma spoke carefully. "That Shadowhunters don't know who to trust. He meant Malcolm, didn't he?"

"Most likely," Kieran confirmed, shrugging his shoulders. "Malcolm's is the shadow hand that has guided the Followers, and Malcolm killed your parents five years ago."

"Why?" Emma's chest was bursting with rage. "Why did he kill my parents?"

"As I understand it?" Kieran tilted his head to the side, almost feeling sorry for her. "It was an experiment. To see if the spell worked."

Zoya felt her parabatai rune lighting up; Emma wasn't okay. She wasn't capable of uttering the question that bothered her, so Zoya did it instead "What do you mean, an experiment?"

"Years ago, Iarlath was one of the Fair Folk who allied themselves with Sebastian Morgenstern," Kieran explained. "He was also a friend to Malcolm. As you probably know, there are certain books warlocks are forbidden to own, but which can be found in some Shadowhunter libraries. Necromantic tomes and the like. One of those is the Black Volume of the Dead."

"The one that the poem talked about," Dru added. Her eyes were red and puffy, a consequence from all the tears that stained her gear as she pulled her braids away from her face."'Find the black book at any cost.'"

"There are many black books," continued Kieran. "But this was one Malcolm specifically wanted. Once the Institute was cleared of Shadowhunters and Sebastian departed, Malcolm took the opportunity to slip in and steal the book from the library. After all, when else was the Institute going to be unguarded, the door open? He took it, and he found the spell he wanted, and he saw that it required the sacrifice of Shadowhunter life. That was when your parents returned to the Institute, Emma."

"So he killed them," Emma concluded. "For a spell." A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Did it at least work?"

"It didn't," said Kieran. "It failed, and so he left their bodies in the ocean, knowing that the murders would be taken to be Sebastian's work."

"Iarlath told you all this?" Mark's eyebrows were lifted up, almost as if he had a hard time believing Kieran's words.

"I followed Iarlath to the Unseelie Court and listened to what he said there." No matter how much Kieran tried, Mark refused to meet his gaze. "The rest is what I demanded he tell me at knifepoint. Malcolm was to misdirect and confuse you so that you would not realize what he was doing ー he used Johnny Rook for some of that. He wanted you to engage yourself in an investigation that would prove fruitless. Mark's presence here would deter you from asking the Clave or the Silent Brothers to help you, thus protecting Malcolm's work with the Followers, his attempts to raise his old love from the dead. When Malcolm had done what he needed to do, he would take a Blackthorn, for the death of a Blackthorn would be the last key to the enchantment."

"But Iarlath hasn't got the power to authorize a faerie convoy to do something on this scale," said Mark. "He's just a courtier, not someone who can order Gwyn around. Who gave the permission for this to happen?"

Kieran shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "I don't know. Iarlath did not say. It could have been the King, my father, or it could have been Gwynー"

"Gwyn would not do that," Mark claimed. "Gwyn has honor, and he is not cruel."

"What about Malcolm?" Livvy suggested. "I thought he had honor. I thought he was our friend! He loves Tavvy ー he's played with him for hours, brought him toys. He couldn't kill him. He couldn't."

"And yet he could," Zoya stated, biting down on her lip. "That's the thing about betrayals ー you never see it coming from those you trust."

"He's responsible for the killing of a dozen people, Livvy," Julian muttered, shaking his head. "Maybe more."

"People are more than one thing," Mark voiced out. "Warlocks too."

Zoya glanced sideways at her parabatai. Emma's face was unreadable, but Zoya knew well what hid beneath the surface. Her own heart mirrored Emma's, trashing like an angered beast, but quivering a moment later. A choked sob bubbled in her throat, threatening to shatter her to the ground.

Zoya's hand reached out for Emma's without hesitation, allowing the girl's head to rest upon her shoulder. Zoya didn't care what anyone else would think. Emma was a part of her heart, her soul, and if she could ease the troubles that sneaked into her chest, she was ready to do it at any price.

There were certain feelings that only Zoya could understand, wounds that only she could heal. It was a beautiful gift of having a parabatai ー offering comfort and safety when all the words failed and all of the world burned to ashes.

"Everyone is more than one thing," Kieran said, briefly scanning the two embraced girls. "We are more than single actions we undertake, whether they be good or evil."

"The poem that was written on the bodies," Cristina interrupted, glancing at Kieran. "The one that mentioned the black book. The story said it was given to Malcolm in the Unseelie Court."

"So goes the faerie story as well," nodded Kieran. "At first Malcolm was told that his love had become an Iron Sister. Later he found out that she had been murdered by her family. Walled up alive in a tomb. The knowledge drove him to seek out the King of the Unseelie Court and ask him if there was a way to raise the dead. The King gave him that rhyme. It was instructions ー it is only that it took him almost a century to learn how to follow them, and to find the black book."

"That's why the library was destroyed in the attack," Emma cleared her throat. She had her hand laced with Zoya's, but her chin was lifted up again, as if the touch of her parabatai poured in a new wave of energy. "So no one would notice the book was missing, if they ever looked for it. So many books were lost."

"But why did Iarlath tell Malcolm that the Followers could kill faeries as well as humans?" Zoya continued, blue eyes blazing across the room. "If he was really in league with Malcolmー"

"That was something Iarlath wanted. He has many enemies in the Seelie Court. It was an expedient way for him to rid himself of some of them ー Malcolm had his Followers slay them, and the murders could not be traced back to Iarlath. For a faerie to kill another of the gentry, that is a dark crime indeed."

"Where is Annabel's body?" Livvy questioned. "Wouldn't she be buried in Cornwall? Wouldn't she have been walled up there ー in a 'tomb by the sounding sea'?"

"Convergences are places out of space and time," Kieran answered. "The convergence itself is neither here nor in Cornwall nor in any real space. It is a between place, like Faerie itself."

"It can probably be entered through Cornwall as well ー that would be why those plants grow outside the entrance," said Mark.

"And what is the connection to the poem 'Annabel Lee'?" Ty demanded. "The name Annabel, the similarities of the stories ー it seems more than coincidence."

Kieran shook his head, blue-black locks dancing along. "I only know what Iarlath told me, and what is part of faerie lore. I did not even know the name Annabel or the mundane poem."

Mark spun on his foot, facing Kieran. "Where is Iarlath now?"

Kieran's bicolored irises shone when meeting Mark's, like lone stars in a dark night. "We are wasting time here. We should be getting to the convergence."

"He is right," Theodore spoke for the first time, reminding everyone that he and Diego were still present and ready to help. Both boys wore dark gear, knives and swords laced in their belts and Centurion pins tucked on their shoulders ー a leafless stick, along with the words Primi Ordines. In their hands, gripped were an ax and bolas.

"We must get to the ley line convergence and stop Fade," Diego added firmly.

Julian sighed, allowing his gaze to touch each member of his family ー Zoya, Emma, Mark, Ty and Livvy, Dry. "I know that we have known Malcolm all our lives. But he is a murderer and liar. Warlocks are immortal, but not invulnerable. When you see him, put your blade in his heart."

The children looked among themselves silently, but it was Emma who broke the bitter moment. "He killed my parents," she voiced out. "I'll be the one to cut out his heart."

"Not alone," Zoya stated, hand hovering above Lazarus. "I will be with you."

Kieran's eyebrows were arched up as he watched the scene unfold.

"Jules," Mark said, coming to stand beside his brother. His hand rose up and fell upon Julian's shoulder. Dark shadows touched the skin under Mark's orbs, but irises eyes shone with determination. "Would you place a rune upon me, brother? For I fear that without them, I will be at a disadvantage in the battle."

Julian's hand hovered above his stele, eyes searching for confirmation. "Are you sure?"

Mark nodded. "It is time to let the nightmares go." He pulled aside the material of his shirt, exposing his pale shoulder. "Courage," he said. "And agility."

Disregarding the distant whispers of her friends, Zoya's eyes remained glued to the Blackthorn brothers. Julian, steady-handed as always, outlined two beautiful runes on Mark's skin, making sure that his brother was comfortable with the touch of the stele the whole time.

When he finished, he lifted his chin and met Mark's gaze. "Why?"

Mark stood confident. "For Tavvy," he confessed. "And because I am a Shadowhunter." With determination and a mixture of love and hate, the blond boy looked at Kieran. "Because I am a Shadowhunter." He filled his lungs with air. "Because I am a Shadowhunter."

Kieran lifted himself off the table, pursing his lips. "I have told you everything I know," he said. "There are no other secrets."

"So I suppose you're leaving," Mark said. "Thank you for your aid, Kieran. If you are returning to the Hunt, tell Gwyn that I will not be coming back. Not ever, no matter what rules they decree. I swear that Iー"

Zoya was surprised to witness such fire in Mark's voice; he was absolutely sure about his decision.

"Don't swear it," Kieran interrupted, palm lifted in the air. "You do not know how things will change."

"Enough." Mark shook his head, turning his back to the Faerie prince.

"I have brought my steed with me," announced Kieran. "A faerie steed of the Hunt can take to the air. Roads do not slow our travel. I will ride ahead and delay what is happening at the convergence until the rest of you arrive."

"I'll go with him," Mark said coldly, sparing a glance in everyone's way.

"Um," Emma commented, head tilting to the side. "You can't knife him on the way, Mark. We may need him."

"Pleasant as that sounds, I wasn't planning to," Mark replied. "Two warriors are better than one."

"Good thinking," said Cristina, tugging two butterfly knives at her belt.

"We should go, then?" Zoya looked at Julian for confirmation, feeling the distant ringing in her ears increasing.

Julian nodded, feeling the thrill of battle rush through veins. "Let's go."

The group of Shadowhunters pushed past the door of the library, cascading down the staircase. Zoya walked beside Emma, Julian and Kieran trailing behind.

"Your brother was wrong about you."

Zoya had to struggle to decipher Kieran's hushed words; his bicolored irises were taking in the sight of Julian, as if he had realized a grand secret.

"What do you mean?" Julian said almost defensively.

"He said you were gentle. The most gentle person he knew." From the corner of her eye, Zoya caught a brilliant grin painting Kieran's mouth. "You are not gentle. You have a ruthless heart."

Julian's gaze flew up, accidentally meeting Zoya's. The girl's eyes widened, realizing that he had caught her eavesdropping, but before she had the time to mutter a foolish excuse in his way, Emma's hand was curling around her wrist and pulling her out of the Institute.

"It's time, Zo."

⋆ ✧ ⋆

Mark and Kieran were leaning against the stones when Zoya and the rest of the Shadowhunters arrived at the convergence. A beautiful white stallion rested beside the Unseelie prince, bathing in the moonlight.

The sky above them was a brilliant blue, accentuating the beauty of the awoken moon. Wind rustled through bushes and grass, making them bow to the Nephilim warriors.

"We killed many Mantids," Mark informed the group. "Cleared the way."

Kieran had a bitter scowl plastered on his face, but it vanished as soon as Mark pulled him by his belt and steadied him. As if realizing what he had done, Mark quickly withdrew his hands.

"We'd better go in," he said, face sharp under the milky rays. "You and Windspear stand guard."

"But Iー" Kieran began to argue, hands curling into tight fists.

"This is Blackthorn family business," Mark declared, making Kieran glance toward Cristina, Theo and Diego. If he had wanted to protest, no words came out of his mouth.

"Weapons check, everyone," Julian warned. "Then we head in."

Zoya's palm instinctively curled around Lazarus, gaze flying over several daggers that were tucked in her belt. Emma joined her a moment later, sleeve unrolled and forearm presented to the black-haired girl.

"Which one?" Zoya's eyebrows flew up, stele already resting in her hand.

"Endurance," Emma said slowly.

Zoya nodded, beginning to draw the lines of the round part of the mark, adding a few sharp ones to finish. The rune glowed a brilliant white, leaving a distant, hollow feeling that invaded Zoya's chest as she met her parabatai's eyes.

Emma's lips parted in bewilderment, quick in hiding the rune with her gear. None of the girls knew what was the reason behind the sudden brightness; they weren't ready to discover, either.

"We'll get him, Emma," Zoya reassured. "You know that, right?"

The ache of a broken heart, of grief, wasn't easy to mend ー the Caldwell girl had known that much. She had also known that Emma's parents' death was the only thing on the girl's mind, lacing her entire body in a veil of hurt and anger.

"I know," Emma confirmed, sighing. "I justー"

"I know," Zoya said, passing Emma her stele and unrolling her own sleeve. It was the truth; Zoya had felt every single emotion of Emma's, invading her bloodstream and spreading across her limbs as an adrenaline rush. "Endurance, Emma. I have a feeling we'll need it."

⋆ ✧ ⋆

NOTE:

This one's kind of a filler chapter, but it was important to throw it in there. Next chapter is ready, as well. It'll probably be published in a few days. For now, I'll give you the title of it: ZOYA'S CURSE.