She heard someone cry out; it was Livvy, leaping into the fray. She ducked, rolled, and shot, taking out an Endarkened who was charging at Bat. The sounds of battle echoed like dull thunder off the walls of mist that curled and slid around them.
Maellartach was a silver blur in Emma’s hand, turning away blades and bullets as she inched closer to Sebastian. She saw Bat move toward Ash, bayonet in hand. Ash wasn’t moving; he was standing watching the chaos like an onlooker at the theater.
“Put your hands behind your back,” Bat said, and Ash glanced over at him with a frown, as if he were a rude guest who had interrupted a play. Bat raised the bayonet. “Look, kid, you’d better—”
Ash fixed Bat with a steady green gaze. “You don’t want to do that,” he said.
Bat froze, gripping his weapon. Ash turned and walked away—not hurrying, almost sauntering, really—and vanished into the fog.
“Bat! Look out!” Maia shouted, and Bat spun to plunge his bayonet into the body of an advancing Endarkened warrior.
And then came the scream. A howl of agony so shrill and intense, it pierced the fog. A woman in Endarkened gear flew across the square, her hair unfurling behind her like a banner spun out of gold, and threw herself across the dead body of this world’s Julian Blackthorn.
Emma knew it was herself; the herself of Thule, clutching at the body of her dead partner, sobbing against his chest, her fingers clawing his blood-wet clothes. She screamed over and over, each a sharp, short howl, like a car alarm going off on an empty street.
Emma couldn’t help staring, and Julian—her own Julian—jerked in surprise and spun to look—recognizing the sound of Emma’s voice, she guessed. The split-second break in his attention left an opening for Jace, who lunged forward with Heosphoros; Julian, twisting to the side, just barely avoided the blade, but stumbled; Jace swept his feet out from under him and he went down.
No. Emma spun around, reversing course, but if Jace brought the sword down, there was no way she’d get there in time—
A plume of yellow flame shot between Jace and Julian. Julian scrambled back as Jace turned to stare; Raphael was holding Tessa upright, and her hand was stretched out, yellow fire still dancing at her fingertips. She looked frayed and exhausted, but her eyes were dark with sorrow as they fixed on Jace.
It was an odd, frozen moment, the kind that sometimes happened in the midst of battle. It was broken by a figure stumbling from the entrance to the Silent City—Diana, bloodstained and panting, but alive. Emma’s heart leaped with relief.
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Go into the City!” he shouted. “Find everything! Spell books! Records! Bring it all to me!”
Tessa gasped. “No—the destruction he could wreak—”
Jace immediately turned away from Julian, as if he’d forgotten he was there. “Endarkened,” he called. His voice was deep and flat, without tone or emotion. “Come to me.”
Emma turned to run toward the City entrance; she could hear Sebastian laughing. Julian had sprung to his feet and was beside her; Livvy spun, kicked at an Endarkened, and ran toward Tessa and the others. “Shut the doors! Shut the doors!”
“No!” Diana looked wildly around the scene of carnage. “Cameron’s still in there!”
Julian turned toward Tessa. “What can we do?”
“I can shut the doors, but you must understand that I cannot open them again,” Tessa said. “Cameron will be trapped.”
A look of agony passed across Livvy’s face. Jace and the other Endarkened were moving toward them; there were seconds to spare.
The agony didn’t leave Livvy’s eyes, but her jaw hardened. In that moment, she had never looked more like Julian. “Close the doors,” she said.
“Stop the warlock!” Sebastian cried. “Stop her—”
He broke off with a howl. Maia, behind him, had plunged a sword into his side. The blade drove into him, smeared with blackish blood. He barely seemed to notice.
“Tessa—” Emma began, and she didn’t know what she planned to say, whether she planned to ask Tessa if she had the strength to close the doors, whether she intended to tell her to do it or not to do it. Tessa moved before she could finish her sentence, raising her slender arms, murmuring words Emma would always try to remember and always find sliding out of her mind.
Golden sparks flew from Tessa’s fingers, illuminating the archway. The doors began to slide closed, grinding and rattling. Sebastian yelled with rage and grabbed the sword protruding from his side. He yanked it free and flung it at Maia, who threw herself to the ground to avoid being struck.
“Stop!” he shouted, striding toward the entrance to the City. “Stop now—”
The doors slammed shut with an echo that reverberated through the fog. Emma looked at Tessa, who gave her a sweet, sad smile. Blood was running from the corners of Tessa’s mouth, from her split fingernails.
“No,” said Raphael. He had been so quiet, Emma had almost forgotten he was there. “Tessa—”
Tessa Gray burst into flame. It was not as if she had caught fire, not really; in between one moment and the next, she became fire, became a glowing pillar of conflagration. The burning light was white and gold: It cut through the mist, illuminating the world.
Raphael fell back, an arm across his face to shield himself from the light. In the brilliance, Emma could see sharp details: the cut across Livvy’s face where Julian’s blade had grazed her, the tears in Diana’s eyes, the rage on Sebastian’s face as he stared at the shut doors, the fear of the Endarkened as they cringed away from the light.
“Cowards! The light cannot hurt you!” Sebastian shouted. “Fight on!”
“We have to get back to the Bradbury,” Livia said desperately. “We have to get out of here.”
“Livvy,” Julian said. “We can’t lead them back to your headquarters. We have to deal with them now.”
“And there’s only one way to do that,” Emma said. She tightened her grip on the Mortal Sword and started toward Sebastian.
She was burning with a new fury, filling her, sustaining her. Cameron. Tessa. She thought of Livvy, having lost someone else she loved. And she launched herself at Sebastian, the Mortal Sword curving through the air like a whip made of fire and gold.
Sebastian growled. Phaesphoros leaped into his hand, and he strode toward Emma. Fury seemed to dance around him like sparks. “You think to strike me down with the Mortal Sword,” he said. “Isabelle Ligh
twood tried that, and now she molders in a grave in Idris.”
“What if I cut your head off?” Emma taunted. “Do you keep on being the dickweed ruler of this planet in two different pieces?”
Sebastian spun, the Morgenstern sword a black-and-silver blur. Emma leaped, the sword slashing under her feet. She landed on a toppled fire hydrant. “Go ahead and try,” Sebastian said in a bored voice. “Others have; I cannot be killed. I will tire you out, girl, and cut you into puzzle pieces to amuse the demons.”
The clash of battle was all around them. Tessa’s fire was dimming, and in the clamor of the mist, Emma could just see Julian, battling Jace. Julian had taken one of the Endarkened’s swords and was fighting defensively, as Diana had taught them when their opponent was stronger than they were.
Livvy was fighting Endarkened with a new anger and energy. So was Raphael. As Emma flicked her glance toward the others, she saw Raphael seize a red-haired Endarkened woman and tear her throat out with his teeth.
And then she saw it: a glow in the distance. A whirling, spinning illumination she knew well: the light of a Portal.
Emma leaped down off the fire hydrant and pressed her attack; Sebastian actually fell back for a moment in surprise before he recovered and struck back even harder. The blade hummed in Emma’s hand as her heart beat out two words: distract him, distract him.
Phaesphorus slammed against Maellartach. Sebastian bared his teeth in a grin that was nothing like a real grin. Emma wondered if he’d once been able to fake a human smile and forgotten how. She thought of the way Clary spoke of him, of someone who had been lost long before he died.
A sharp pain cut through her. Sebastian’s sword had scored the front of her left thigh; blood stained the rip in her canvas pants. He grinned again and kicked her wound, violently; the pain whited out her vision and she felt herself tilt. She hit the ground with a crack that she was fairly sure was her collarbone snapping.
“You begin to bore me,” Sebastian said, prowling above her like a cat. Her vision was blurry with pain, but she could see the Portal light growing stronger. The air seemed to shimmer. In the distance, she could still hear the other Emma sobbing.