Also by Cassandra Clare

at her. She put the eggs down on the kitchen island and perched herself on one of the stools, poking at
her breakfast with a spoon.
“Okay,” Livvy said. “If no one else asks, I will. What was that about?”
Emma looked up, about to give an annoyed answer, when the words died in her throat.
Mark was standing in the doorway. The tension of last night’s altercation in the library seemed to
reappear, dropping a heavy silence over the kitchen. The Blackthorns looked at their brother, wideeyed;
Cristina stared down at her coffee.
Mark looked—normal. He wore a clean blue henley shirt and dark jeans that actually fit, along
with a weapons belt around his waist, though there were no weapons in it. Still, it was unmistakably a
Shadowhunter belt, runes of angelic power and precision punched into the leather. There were
gauntlets on his wrists.
They all stared at him, Julian with his spatula in midair. Mark put his shoulders back and for a
moment Emma thought he was going to sweep another bow, the way he had last night. Instead he
spoke.
“I apologize for yesterday evening,” he said. “I should not have blamed you, my family. The
politics of the Clave are complex and often dark, and not your fault. I would like to, with your
permission, start over and introduce myself to you.”
“But we know who you are,” Ty said. Livvy leaned over and whispered in his ear, her hand
brushing his shoulder. Ty looked back at Mark, clearly still puzzled, but also expectant.
Mark took a step forward. “I am Mark Antony Blackthorn,” he said. “I come from a long line of
proud Shadowhunters. I have served with the Wild Hunt for years I cannot count. I have ridden
through the air on a white horse made of smoke, and gathered up the bodies of the dead, and brought
them to Faerie, where their bones and skin have fed the savage land. I have never felt guilty, but
perhaps I should.” He let his hands, which had been clasped behind his back, fall to his sides. “I
don’t know where I belong,” he said. “But if you let me, I will try to belong here.”
There was a moment of silence. The kids at the table stared; Emma sat with her spoon poised,
holding her breath. Mark looked toward Jules.
Julian reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Why don’t you sit down, Mark,” he said a little
hoarsely. “I’ll make you some eggs.”
Mark was quiet all through breakfast, as Julian, Emma, and Cristina filled in the others on what they’d
discovered the previous night. Emma kept the details of the Mantid attack minimal; she didn’t want to
give Tavvy nightmares.
Stanley Wells’s wallet was passed over to Ty, who looked thrilled to be handling a clue. He
promised a full investigation of the unfortunate Stanley after the testing. Since Mark had no need to
participate in the testing, Julian asked him if he would look after Tavvy in the library.
“I will not feed him to a tree, as is done in the Unseelie Court with unruly children,” Mark
promised.
“That’s a relief,” Julian said dryly.
Mark bent down toward Tavvy, whose eyes were sparkling. “Come with me, little one,” Mark said.
“There are books in the library, that I remember, that I loved as a child. I could show them to you.”
Tavvy nodded and placed his hand in Mark’s with total trust. Something went through Mark’s eyes
then, a lightning flash of emotion. He went out of the room with Tavvy without another word.
Cameron’s warning stayed with Emma through the rest of the meal, as they cleaned up, and after
they all filed to the classroom to find Diana there, holding a heavy stack of testing papers. She