Also by Cassandra Clare

The air outside the Institute was strong and bracing, smelling of sage and salt. Julian could hear the
low hum of cicadas filling the air, softening the noise of Diana slamming the truck door shut. She
came around the side of the truck and paused when she saw Julian standing on the front steps.
“Jules,” she said. “What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you that,” he said. “Are you leaving? Again?”
She tucked her hair behind her ears, but several curls escaped, caught by the escalating wind. She
wore dark clothes, not gear but black jeans and gloves and boots. “I have to go.”
He took a step down. “How long will you be gone for?”
“I don’t know.”
“So we shouldn’t depend on you.” The heaviness in Julian’s chest felt like more than he could bear.
He wanted to lash out, kick something. He wanted Emma, to talk to, to reassure him. But he couldn’t
think about Emma.
“Believe it or not,” Diana said, “I’m doing my best for you.”
Julian looked down at his hands. His sea-glass bracelet glowed on his wrist. He remembered the
gleam of it under the water the night before, as he swam down toward Emma. “What do you expect
me to tell them?” he said. “If they ask me where you are.”
“Make something up,” Diana said. “You’re good at that.”
Anger surged up in him—if he was a liar, and a good one, it was because he had never had a
choice.
“I know things about you,” Julian said. “I know you left for your travel year, went to Thailand, and
didn’t come back until after your father died.”
Diana paused, one hand on the truck door. “Have you been investigating me, Julian?”
“I know things because I have to know them,” Julian said. “I need to be careful.”
Diana yanked the door open. “I came here,” she said, softly, “knowing it was a bad idea. Knowing
that caring about you children was tying myself to a fate I couldn’t control. I did it because I saw how
much you cared about each other, you and your brothers and sisters, and it meant something to me. Try
to believe that, Julian.”
“I know you understand about brothers and sisters,” said Julian. “You had a brother. He died in
Thailand. You never talk about him.”
She got into the truck, slammed the door shut after her, the window still open. “I don’t owe you
answers, Julian,” she said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“It’s all right,” he said. He suddenly felt enormously tired. “They won’t ask where you are,
anyway. They don’t really expect you to be around.”
He saw Diana cover her face with her hands. A moment later, the truck started up. Lights
illuminated the front of the Institute, sweeping over the sandy grass as the truck rumbled down the hill.
Julian stood where he was for a long time. He wasn’t sure how long. Long enough for the sun to go
down entirely, for the glow to fade from the hills. Long enough for him to turn to go back inside,
straightening his shoulders, preparing himself.
That was when he heard the noise. He spun around and saw them: a vast crowd, coming up the
road toward the Institute.