“Julian is the smartest person I know,” said Mark firmly. “He isn’t wrong about how people feel.”
“We believe him,” said Alec. “But we can’t take the risk of bringing someone into our confidence who might spill our secrets to the Cohort.”
Julian’s face was still, only his eyes moving, roving up and down the table, studying the faces of his companions. “What the Cohort has going for them is that they’re together. They’re united. We’re individually throwing ourselves into danger to spare others from danger. What if instead we all stood together? We would be far more powerful—”
Jace cut him off. “It’s a good idea, Julian, but we just can’t do it.”
Julian went quiet, though Emma sensed he had more to say. He wasn’t going to push it. Maybe if he were more himself he would—but not this Julian.
Alec rose to his feet. “Magnus and I had better head to New York for tonight. If we’re all going to go to Idris, we should get the kids to my mom. We can bring Simon and Izzy back with us.”
“We’ll stay here,” said Jace, indicating himself and Clary. “This place is still vulnerable to an attack by the Cohort. We’ll be the first line of defense.”
“We should all be ready,” Clary said. “If it’s okay, Helen, we’ll go up to the weapons room, see if we need to requisition anything—” She paused. “I guess we can’t reach out to the Iron Sisters, can we?”
“They oppose the government in Idris,” said Aline. “But they’ve shut themselves up in the Adamant Citadel. They haven’t yet responded to any messages.”
“There are other ways to get weapons,” said Ty. “There’s the Shadow Market.”
Emma tensed, wondering if anyone was going to point out that the Shadow Market was technically off-limits to Shadowhunters.
No one did.
“Good idea,” said Jace. “Weapons are gettable if we need them—there are weapons caches in every church and holy building in Los Angeles, but—”
“But you’re not fighting demons,” said Kit. “Are you?”
Jace gave him a long look; it was hard to miss their resemblance when they were at close quarters. “Not the usual kind,” he said, and he and Clary headed to the weapons room.
Mark was on his feet too; he headed out of the room with Cristina by his side, and Ty and Kit followed shortly after. Dru left with Tavvy and his Slinky. Amid the scattering, Magnus looked across the table at Julian, his cat’s eyes sharp.
“You stay,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”
Helen and Aline looked curious. Alec raised an eyebrow. “All right,” he said. “I’ll go call Izzy and let her know we’re on our way back.” He glanced over at Aline and Helen. “I could use some help packing. Magnus isn’t quite up to it yet.”
He’s lying to get them out of the room, Emma thought. The invisible communication between Alec and Magnus was easy to read: She wondered if people could see the same with her and Julian. Was it clear when they were silently conversing? Not that they’d been doing that since they’d gotten back from Thule.
Magnus started to turn to Emma, but Julian shook his head minutely. “Emma knows,” he said. “She can stay.”
Magnus sat back while the others filed out of the room. In a moment it was empty except for the three of them: Emma, Julian, and Magnus. Magnus was regarding the two Shadowhunters quietly, his steady eyes moving from Julian to Emma and back again.
“When did you tell Emma about the spell, Julian?” Magnus asked, his voice deceptively bland. Emma suspected there was more to the question than was immediately obvious.
Julian’s dark eyebrows drew together. “As soon as I could. She knows I want you to take it off me.”
“Ah,” Magnus said. He leaned back against the sofa. “You begged for that spell,” he said. “You were desperate, and in danger. Are you sure you want me to remove it?”
The bright sunlight turned Julian’s eyes to the color of tropical oceans in magazines; he wore a long-sleeved shirt that matched his eyes, and he was so beautiful it made her heart stutter in her chest.
But it was a statue’s beauty. His expression was nearly blank; she couldn’t read him at all. They had barely spoken since that night in her room.
Maybe it had been enough time now that he had forgotten what it meant to feel; maybe he didn’t want it anymore. Maybe he hated her. Maybe it was best if he did hate her, but Emma could never believe it would be best if he never felt anything again.
After an excruciating moment of silence, Julian reached down and drew up his left sleeve. His forearm was bare of bandages. He stretched his arm out to Magnus.
YOU ARE IN THE CAGE.
The color drained from Magnus’s face. “My God,” he said.
“I cut this into my arm in Thule,” Julian said. “When I had my emotions back, I was able to realize how miserable I’d been without them.”
“That is—brutal.” Magnus was clearly shaken. His hair had gotten quite shaggy, Emma thought. It was rare to see Magnus less than perfectly coiffed. “But I suppose you’ve always been determined. I talked to Helen while you were missing—she confirmed for me that you’d been running the Institute for quite a while on your own. Covering up for Arthur, who never recovered from his experience in Faerie.”
“What does that have to do with the spell?” said Julian.
“It sounds as if you’ve always had to make hard choices,” said Magnus. “For yourself, and for the people you care about. This seems like another hard choice. I still know less than I wish I did about the outcome of the parabatai curse. A friend of mine has been looking into it, though, and from what he’s told me, the threat is very real.” He looked pained. “You may be better off as you are.”
“I’m not,” Julian said. “And you know this isn’t emotionality talking.” Despite the bitterness of the words, his tone was flat. “Without my emotions, without my feelings, I’m a worse Shadowhunter. I make poorer decisions. I wouldn’t trust someone who felt nothing for anyone. I wouldn’t want them to make decisions that affected other people. Would you?”
Magnus looked thoughtful. “Hard to say. You’re very clever.”
Julian didn’t look as if the compliment affected him one way or the other. “I wasn’t always clever in the way you mean. From the time I turned twelve, when my father died and the kids became my responsibility, I had to learn how to lie. To manipulate. So if that’s cleverness, I had it. But I knew where to stop.”
Magnus raised his eyebrows.
“Julian without feelings,” said Emma, “doesn’t know where to stop.”
“I liked your idea earlier,” Magnus said, looking at Julian curiously. “Raising a resistance. Why didn’t you push it more?”
“Because Jace wasn’t wrong,” Julian said. “We could be betrayed. Normally I’d be able to think past that. Imagine a solution. But not like this.” He touched his temple, frowning. “I thought I’d be able to think more clearly, without feelings. But the opposite is true. I can’t think at all. Not properly.”
Magnus hesitated.
“Please,” Emma said.
“You’ll need a plan,” Magnus said. ?
?I know your plan before was exile, but that was when Robert could help you. Horace Dearborn won’t.”
“Dearborn won’t, but another Inquisitor might. We must overthrow the Cohort in any case. There’s a chance the next Inquisitor might be reasonable,” said Julian.
“They don’t have a history of being reasonable,” said Magnus. “And we don’t really know the time frame here.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “I have an idea,” he said finally. “You won’t like it.”
“What about one we would like?” Emma suggested.
Magnus gave her a dark look. “There are a few things that will, in an emergent situation, break your bond. Death, which I don’t recommend. Being bitten by a vampire—hard to arrange, and can also end in death. Having your Marks stripped off and being turned into a mundane. Probably the best option.”
“But only the Silent Brothers can do that,” said Emma. “And we can’t get near them right now.”
“There’s Jem,” Magnus said. “He and I have both seen Marks stripped. And he was a Silent Brother himself. Together, we could make it happen.” He looked slightly ill. “It would be painful and unpleasant. But if there was no other choice—”
“I’ll do it,” Emma said quickly. “If the curse starts to happen, then strip my Marks. I can take it.”
“I don’t . . . ,” Julian began. Emma held her breath; the real Julian would never let her offer this. She had to get him to agree before Magnus took off the spell. “I don’t like the idea,” Julian said at last, looking almost puzzled, as if his own thoughts surprised him. “But if there’s no other choice, all right.”
Magnus gave Emma a long look. “I’ll take this as a binding promise,” he said after a pause. He stretched out a ringed hand. “Julian. Come here.”
Emma watched in an agony of anticipation—what if something went wrong? What if Magnus couldn’t remove the spell?—as Julian went over to the warlock and sat down on a chair facing him.
“Brace yourself,” said Magnus. “It’ll be a shock.”
He reached out and touched Julian’s temple. Julian started as a spark of light flew from Magnus’s fingers to brush against his skin; it vanished like a firefly winking out, and Julian flinched back, suddenly breathing hard.