"Jem is dying anyway," Will said in a choked voice. "Jem is what I have all owed myself. I tell myself, if he dies, it is not my fault. He is dying anyway, and in pain. El as death at least was swift. Perhaps through me he can be given a good death. " He looked up miserably, met Magnuss accusing eyes.
"No one can live with nothing," he whispered. "Jem is all I have. "
"You should have told him," said Magnus. "He would have chosen to be your parabatai anyway, even knowing the risks. "
"I cannot burden him with that knowledge! He would keep it secret if I asked him to, but it would pain him to know it-and the pain I cause others would only hurt him more. Yet if I were to tell Charlotte, to tell Henry and the rest, that my behavior is a sham-that every cruel thing I have said to them is a lie, that I wander the streets only to give the impression that I have been out drinking and whoring when in reality I have no desire to do either-then I
have ceased to push them away. "
"And thus you have never told anyone of this curse? No one but myself, since you were twelve years old?"
"I could not," Will said. "How could I be sure they would form no attachment to me, once they knew the truth? A story like that might engender pity, pity could become attachment, and then . . . "
Magnus raised his eyebrows. "Are you not concerned about me?"
"That you might love me?" Will sounded genuinely startled. "No, for you hate Nephilim, do you not? And besides, I imagine you warlocks have ways to guard against unwanted emotions. But for those like Charlotte, like Henry, if they knew the persona I presented to them was false, if they knew of my true heart . . . they might come to care for me. "
"And then they would die," said Magnus.
* * * Charlotte raised her face slowly from her hands. "And youve absolutely no idea where he is?" she asked for the third time. "Wil is simply-gone?"
"Charlotte. " Jems voice was soothing. They were in the drawing room, with its wal paper of flowers and vines. Sophie was by the fire, using the poker to coax more flames from the coal. Henry sat behind the desk, fiddling with a set of copper instruments; Jessamine was on the chaise, and Charlotte was in an armchair by the fire. Tessa and Jem sat somewhat primly side by side on the sofa, which made Tessa feel peculiarly like a guest. She was full of sandwiches that Bridget had brought in on a tray, and tea, its warmth slowly thawing her insides. "It isnt as if this is unusual. When do we ever know where Will is at nighttime?"
"But this is different. He saw his family, or his sister at least. Oh, poor Will. "
Charlottes voice shook with anxiety. "I had thought perhaps he was final y beginning to forget about them . . . "
"No one forgets about their family," said Jessamine sharply. She sat on the chaise longue with a watercolor easel and papers propped before her; she had recently made the decision that she had fal en behind in pursuing the maidenly arts, and had begun painting, cutting silhouettes, pressing flowers, and playing on the spinet in the music room, though Will said her singing voice made him think of Church when he was in a particularly complaining mood.
"Well, no, of course not," said Charlotte hastily, "but perhaps not to live with the memory constantly, as a sort of dreadful weight on you. "
"As if wed know what to do with Will if he didnt have the morbs every day," said Jessamine. "Anyway, he cant have cared about his family that much in the first place or he wouldnt have left them. "
Tessa gave a little gasp. "How can you say that? You dont know why he left. You didnt see his face at Ravenscar Manor-"
"Ravenscar Manor. " Charlotte was staring blindly at the fireplace. "Of all the places I thought theyd go . . . "
"Pish and tosh," said Jessamine, looking angrily at Tessa. "At least his familys alive. Besides, Ill wager he wasnt sad at all ; Ill wager you he was shamming. He always is. "
Tessa glanced toward Jem for support, but he was looking at Charlotte, and his look was as hard as a silver coin. "What do you mean," he said, "of all the places you thought theyd go? Did you know that Will s family had moved?"
Charlotte started, and sighed. "Jem . . . "
"Its important, Charlotte. "
Charlotte glanced over at the tin on her desk that held her favorite lemon drops. "After Will s parents came here to see him, when he was twelve, and he sent them away . . . I begged him to speak to them, just for a moment, but he wouldnt. I tried to make him understand that if they left, then he could never see them again, and I could never tell him news of them. He took my hand, and he said, Please just promise me youl tell me if they die, Charlotte. Promise me. " She looked down, her fingers knotting in the material of her dress. "It was such an odd request for a little boy to make. I-I had to say yes. "
"So youve been looking into the welfare of Will s family?" Jem asked.
"I hired Ragnor fell to do it," Charlotte said. "For the first three years. The fourth year he came back to me and told me that the Herondales had moved.
Edmund Herondale-thats Will s father-had lost their house gambling. That was all Ragnor was able to glean. The Herondales had been forced to move.
He could find no further trace of them. "
"Did you ever tell Will ?" Tessa said.
"No. " Charlotte shook her head. "He had made me promise to tell him if they died, that was all. Why add to his unhappiness with the knowledge that they had lost their home? He never mentioned them. I had grown to hope he might have forgotten-"
"He has never forgotten. " There was a force in Jems words that stopped the nervous movement of Charlottes fingers.
"I should not have done it," Charlotte said. "I should never have made that promise. It was a contravention of the Law-"
"When Will truly wants something," said Jem quietly, "when he feels something, he can break your heart. "
There was a silence. Charlottes lips were tight, her eyes suspiciously bright. "Did he say anything about where he was going when he left Kings Cross?"
"No," said Tessa. "We arrived, and he just up and dusted-sorry, got up and ran," she corrected herself, their blank looks alerting her to the fact that she was using American slang.
"Up and dusted," said Jem. "I like that. Makes it sound like he left a cloud of dust spinning in his wake. He didnt say anything, no-just elbowed his way through the crowd and was gone. Nearly knocked down Cyril coming to get us. "
"None of it makes any sense," Charlotte moaned. "Why on earth would Will s family be living in a house that used to belong to Mortmain? In Yorkshire of all places? This is not where I thought this road would lead. We sought Mortmain and we found the Shades; we sought him again and found Will s family. He encircles us, like that cursed ouroboros that is his symbol. "