Home > Son of the Dawn (Ghosts of the Shadow Market #1)(3)

Son of the Dawn (Ghosts of the Shadow Market #1)(3)
Author: Cassandra Clare, Sarah Rees Brennan

He remembered this woman, he thought, dimly recollecting her hurting a golden-haired child. It had been so long ago. He had cared very much at the time.

Lily snorted. “I hardly think Brother Beast-with-two-backs-ariah needs a love charm.”

Thank you, but no, Brother Zachariah told the faerie woman. I’m very flattered, though Brother Enoch is a fine figure of a man.

“Or perhaps you and the lady would enjoy some phoenix tears for a night of burning pass—” She went suddenly silent, and the whole stall scuttled away across the bare concrete floor on little chicken feet. “Ooops, never mind! Didn’t see you there, Raphael.”

Raphael’s thin eyebrows went up and down like a guillotine.

“More of a buzzkill than the Silent Brother,” murmured Lily. “Oh, the shame.”

Raphael looked smug. In Zachariah’s head, Brother Enoch was annoyed at being the subject of a joke. The gleam and whirl of the Shadow Market shone with pale radiance in Brother Zachariah’s eyes. He did not like the thought of yin fen spreading like silver wildfire in another city, killing fast as flame or slowly as choking smoke. If it was coming he had to stop it. This trip to the Market had been useful after all. If he could not feel, he could act.

Perhaps tomorrow night the Lightwoods will earn your trust, said Brother Zachariah as he and the vampires stepped out into the mundane bustle of Canal Street.

Raphael said, “Unlikely.”

I have found it always better to hope than despair, said Brother Zachariah mildly. I will wait for you outside the Institute.

Behind them, enchanted lights shimmered and the sound of faery music rang through the halls of the theater. A mundane woman turned to face the building. Glittering blue light fell in a strange beam across her unseeing eyes.

The two vampires were heading east, but partway up the street, Raphael turned back to where Brother Zachariah stood. In the night, away from Market lights, the vampire’s scar was white and his eyes were black. His eyes saw too much.

“Hope is for fools. I will meet you tomorrow night, but remember this, Silent Brother,” he said. “Hate like that does not fade. The work of the Circle is not done yet. The Morgenstern legacy will claim more victims. I do not intend to be one of them.”

Wait, said Brother Zachariah. Do you happen to know why the ship is unloading its cargo at the passenger ship terminal?

Raphael shrugged. “I told you the ship was carrying cargo from Idris. I believe some Shadowhunter brat is onboard.”

Brother Zachariah walked away from the Market alone, thinking of a child on a ship with deadly cargo, and the potential of more victims.

Isabelle Lightwood was not accustomed to feeling nervous about anything, but anyone might be apprehensive when faced with the prospect of a new addition to the family.

This was not like before Max was born, when Isabelle and Alec had laid bets on whether it would be a boy or a girl and afterward Mom and Dad trusted them enough to let them take turns holding him, the smallest and tenderest bundle imaginable.

A boy older than Isabelle was being dumped on their doorstep and was supposed to live with them. Jonathan Wayland, the son of Dad’s parabatai, Michael Wayland. Faraway in Idris, Michael Wayland had died, and Jonathan needed a home.

For herself, Isabelle was a little excited. She liked adventure and company. If Jonathan Wayland was as much fun and as good a fighter as Aline Penhallow, who came to visit sometimes with her mother, Isabelle would be glad to have him.

Except there was not just Isabelle to consider.

Her parents had been fighting over Jonathan Wayland ever since the news of Michael’s death came. Isabelle gathered Mom had not liked Michael Wayland. She was not sure Dad had liked him much either. Isabelle herself had never met Michael Wayland. She had never even known that Dad had a parabatai. Neither Mom nor Dad ever talked about when they were young, except that Mom had once said they made many mistakes. Isabelle sometimes wondered whether they had been mixed up in the same trouble as their tutor, Hodge. Her friend Aline said Hodge was a criminal.

Whatever her parents had or had not done, Isabelle did not think her mother wanted Jonathan Wayland to be a reminder of her mistakes in her own home.

Dad did not seem happy when he talked about his parabatai, but he did seem determined that Jonathan would come to live with them. Jonathan had nowhere else to go, Dad insisted, and he belonged with them. That was what being parabatai meant. Once when she was eavesdropping on them shouting, Isabelle heard Dad say, “I owe Michael this.”

Mom agreed to let Jonathan come for a trial period, but now that the shouting had died down, she was not really speaking to Dad. Isabelle was worried about both her parents, and especially her mom.

Isabelle also had to consider her brother.

Alec did not like new people. Whenever new Shadowhunters arrived from Idris, Alec would mysteriously slope off. Once Isabelle had found him lurking behind a large vase, claiming he got lost trying to find the training room.

Jonathan Wayland was taking a ship to New York. He should be in the Institute by the morning after next.

Isabelle was in the training room, practicing with her whip and pondering the problem of Jonathan Wayland, when she heard rushing footsteps, and her brother Alec poked his head around the door. His blue eyes were sparkling.

“Isabelle!” he said. “Come quickly! There’s a Silent Brother meeting with Mom and Dad in the Sanctuary. And a vampire!”

Isabelle ran to her room to get out of her gear and into a dress. The Silent Brothers were fancy company, almost as if the Consul had come to visit.

By the time she got downstairs, Alec was already in the Sanctuary observing the proceedings, and her parents were deep in conversation with the Silent Brother. Isabelle heard her mom say something to the Silent Brother that sounded like “Yogurt! Unbelievable!”

Maybe not yogurt. Maybe it was a different word.

“On the ship with Michael’s son!” Dad said.

It couldn’t be yogurt, unless Jonathan Wayland had a very serious allergy to dairy.

The Silent Brother was a lot less scary than Isabelle had been expecting. In fact, from what Isabelle could see beneath the hood, he resembled one of the mundie singers she had seen in posters around the city. From the way Robert was nodding at him and Maryse was leaning toward him in her chair, Isabelle could see they were getting along.

The vampire was not conversing with their parents. He was leaning against one of the walls, arms crossed, and glaring at the floor. He did not seem as if he was interested in getting along with anyone. He looked like a kid, hardly older than they were, and he would have been almost as handsome as the Silent Brother if not for his sour expression. He was wearing a black leather jacket to go with his scowl. Isabelle wished she could see the fangs.

“Can I offer you a coffee?” Maryse said to the vampire in a cool, stilted tone.

“I do not drink … coffee,” said the vampire.

“Odd,” said Maryse. “I heard you had a delightful coffee with Catherine Ashdown.”

The vampire shrugged. Isabelle knew vampires were dead and soulless and all, but she did not see why they had to be rude.

She nudged Alec in the ribs. “Get a load of the vampire. Can you believe that?”

“I know!” Alec whispered back. “Isn’t he amazing?”

“What?” Isabelle said, grabbing Alec’s elbow.

Alec did not glance at her. He was studying the vampire. Isabelle started to get the same uneasy feeling that she got whenever she noticed Alec looking at the same posters of mundie singers that she did. Alec always got red and angry when she saw him looking. Isabelle sometimes thought it would be nice to talk about the singers, the way she’d heard mundie girls doing, but she knew Alec wouldn’t want to. Once Mom had asked them what they were looking at, and Alec had looked afraid.

“Don’t go near him,” Isabelle urged. “I think vampires are gross.”

Isabelle was used to being able to whisper to her brother in a crowd. The vampire turned his head slightly, and Isabelle remembered vampires did not have pathetic hearing like mundanes. The vampire could definitely hear her.

This nasty realization caused Isabelle to relax her hold on Alec. She watched in horror as he pulled away from her and advanced with nervous determination toward the vampire. Not wanting to be left out, Isabelle trailed a few steps behind him.

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