Also by Cassandra Clare

Julian read the words aloud. “I WILL RAISE YOU, ANNABEL LEE.”
The room exploded.
A bolt of black light burst from the letter in Julian’s hand. It shot toward the roof, smashing through
the skylight with the force of a wrecking ball.
Emma covered her head as plaster and bits of glass rained down. Ty, who was directly beneath the
hole in the roof, threw himself toward his sister, knocking her to the ground and covering her with his
own body. The room seemed to rock back and forth; a shelf wobbled and fell, tipping toward Diego.
Pulling away from Mark, Cristina shoved the shelf out of the way; it crashed to the side, missing
Diego by inches. Dru shrieked, and Julian pulled her toward him, tucking her under his arm.
The black light was still shining upward. With his free hand, Julian flung the note onto the ground
and slammed his foot down on it.
It crumbled into dust instantly. The black light vanished as if it had been switched off.
There was a silence. Livvy wriggled out from under her twin and stood up, reaching out to help
him up after her. Livvy looked half-surprised, half-worried. “Ty, you didn’t have to do that.”
“You wanted to have someone to shield you from danger. That’s what you said.”
“I know,” Livvy said. “But—”
Ty rose to his feet—and cried out. A jagged piece of glass was sticking out of the back of his calf.
Blood had already started to soak the fabric around the cut.
Ty bent down and, before anyone else could move, yanked the glass out of his leg. He dropped it to
the ground, where it shattered into clear, red-smeared pieces.
“Ty!” Julian started forward, but Ty shook his head. He was pulling himself into a chair, his face
twisted with pain. Blood had started to pool around his sneakered foot.
“Let Livvy do it,” he said. “It would be better—”
Livvy was already swooping down on her twin with an iratze. A bit of falling glass had cut her left
cheek, and blood was visible against her pale skin. She wiped it away with her sleeve as she finished
the healing rune.
“Let me see the cut,” Julian said, kneeling down. Slowly, Livvy rolled up Ty’s pant leg. The cut
went across the side of his calf, raw and red but no longer open—it looked like a tear that had been
sewn up. Still, his leg from the cut down was smeared with blood.
“Another iratze should fix it,” said Diego. “And a blood-replacement rune.”
Julian gritted his teeth. He had never seemed bothered by Diego the way Mark was, but Emma
could tell that at the moment he was barely holding himself back. “Yes,” he said. “We know. Thanks,
Diego.”
Ty looked up at his brother. “I don’t know what happened.” He looked dazed. “I wasn’t expecting it
—I should have been expecting it.”
“Ty, no one could have expected that,” Emma said. “I mean, Julian said some words, and boom,
Hell’s tractor beam.”
“Is anyone else hurt?” Julian had efficiently slit Ty’s pant leg open, and Livvy, her face the color of
old newspaper, was applying healing and blood-replacement runes to her twin. Julian looked around
the room, and Emma could see him doing his mental inventory of his family: Mark all right, Livvy all
right, Dru all right. . . . She saw the moment he reached where Tavvy should be and blanched. His
jaw tightened. “Malcolm must have enchanted the paper to set off that signal as soon as it was read.”
“It is a signal,” Mark said. The expression on his face was troubled. “I have felt this before, in the
Unseelie Court, when black enchantments were brewing. That was dark magic.”