“What do you suggest?” Alec said.
Tian smiled. “How would you like to meet my grandmother?”
CHAPTER SEVEN Ke House
MAGNUS WANTED TO OPEN A Portal to Ke House. Everyone else voted not to open a Portal, considering what was going on with the Portals, but Magnus was feeling lucky.
Magnus knew he had to sleep, and very, very soon. But he also felt surprisingly good. He opened the Portal with a flourish. Beetle demons immediately began to drop out of it; each had just enough time to register surprise that it was in broad daylight before exploding into ichor. After about a minute and fifty or so beetle demons, Magnus closed the Portal with a sigh.
“I just couldn’t stand their sad little feelers anymore,” he said.
His friends looked at him with concern. Tian raised an eyebrow and waved a phone at Magnus. “I’ve called some taxis.”
Soon Magnus was watching the city go by out the window as they drove past Jiao Tong University and into more residential areas. Magnus hadn’t been to Ke House in… more than eighty years. Shanghai had gone through not just a transformation but many transformations piled atop one another since then.
He thought of the first time he came to Paris after Haussmann’s renovations. He stood on the Île de la Cité in bewilderment, unable to get his bearings. He could see the river; he could see the spires of Notre Dame a few blocks away. He had stood in this geographical location dozens of times before, but he had no idea where he was.
So it was today. The new houses of modern Shanghai smeared by in the windows.
No, Magnus thought as they helped him out of the car. That isn’t the strange thing. This is the strange thing. Tall double doors, gleaming metallic red, set in simple gray concrete walls impossible to see over. These doors were the same as he remembered. It was so strange, to see something that hadn’t changed.
The wards allowed Tian through, and he waved to his guests to follow him. They did so a bit warily. Magnus had seen how surprised Jace and Isabelle had looked when Tian had explained that the ancestral home of the Ke family wasn’t the Institute. It seemed the Ke family was a large one, and a traditional one. Ke House was older than the Institute, and those family members who had retired from Institute work, or were simply part of the Shanghai Conclave, had always lived here.
The property itself was large, Magnus remembered, but the main house itself very modest. He was sure there had been renovations since the 1920s, but the core of the house seemed much the same: brick-red columns, dougong brackets, and straight-lined roof, simple and modest, but protected, of course, by the traditional ridge beasts on the corners of the roof, beautifully carved lions and horses commemorating the joining of the Ke family and some other household, centuries ago. The brackets were painted blue now, Magnus thought. A blue that seemed to darken even as he looked at it. He heard Alec’s voice and closed his eyes.
He really was very tired.
* * *
HE AWOKE TO FIND HIMSELF in a small, comfy bedroom; out the window the sun was beginning to think about getting low in the sky. He felt refreshed, as though he had slept for a day. He wanted to find Alec.
He pulled himself out of bed and looked at the wound in his chest where it was exposed above the fold of his dressing gown. (He noted that he had apparently been put into a dressing gown, he presumed by Alec. He hoped by Alec.) Now, with two cuts, it formed an X over his heart, and he thought with a wince of Clary’s dream. No chains yet, at least. The X was warm to the touch, like an inflamed cut, but he felt no pain if he pushed at it. The little flames of light that wafted out of the wound didn’t feel like anything. The fact was, the wound felt good. Behind it was a warm core of magic that was clearly his own, but he felt tendrils of it reaching out through the wound, reaching for… what? The thorn?
Sammael?
He found his clothes folded on a chair beside the bed and changed out of the dressing gown. Then he padded down the hall. At the end of the hall was a small sitting room, decorated mostly in weapons—Shadowhunters, thought Magnus with a sigh—and a man seated in one of the chairs. He was leaning forward, as though deep in thought or, possibly, napping, and Magnus couldn’t see his face. That’s funny, he thought, the Ke family still look like—
The man raised his head, and Magnus startled.
“Jem?” he said. He whispered it, like maybe it was supposed to be a secret.
Jem got up. He looked good, Magnus thought, for being 150 years old, for having been a Shadowhunter and a Silent Brother and then, after all those years, suddenly a mundane. Even in modern times, Jem still favored clothes a bit like what he’d worn as a much younger man—he was in a simple white shirt with pearl buttons, but over it was a brown riding coat cut in a vaguely Victorian shape. Under other circumstances, Magnus might have asked him the name of his tailor.
Without a word Jem stepped forward and embraced Magnus. They had been friends a long time. There were a lot of downsides to being a warlock, but the feeling of embracing a friend who you’d known for more than a century was not one of them.
“What are you doing here?” Magnus said. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you.”
“I have a perfect right to be here,” Jem said with a twinkle in his eye. “I’m a member of the Ke family, after all. Ke Jian Ming, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“So… a coincidence? You just happened to be visiting family? Is Tessa with you?”
Jem’s expression suddenly turned serious. “Tessa is not with me, and no, it’s not a coincidence that I’m here.”
He led Magnus outside, and they walked over to the pond. It seemed to Magnus that it was a bit different in shape than the last time he’d been here, but it had been beautiful then and it was beautiful now. Firs and willows leaned over the water, their branches so low they dipped into it. They shaded the gold, black, and white koi hurrying underneath, visible only as shifting shadows in the green water.
A red bridge, paint flaking away with age, arched over the pond, leading to a dirt-floored courtyard where a girl in gear, only eleven or twelve, ran through stick-fighting forms.
“I was born here, you know,” Jem said. “Before my parents ran the Institute.” He looked out at the sun’s reflection on the still water of the pond.
“Where’s Tessa?” said Magnus.
“The Spiral Labyrinth,” Jem said, and Magnus breathed a sigh of relief. “But not of her own choice. She was being pursued by a warlock. Of your acquaintance, I think. One with an unmoving face.”
“Shinyun Jung,” Magnus said. “I should say she’s of my acquaintance; I came here straight from fighting her and her monster squad.”
“So I heard from the others,” said Jem.
“Why would Shinyun be after Tessa?” Magnus said.
Jem looked at him in surprise. “Well—because she’s an eldest curse, of course. Like you.”
Magnus blinked. “You mean, because she’s the daughter of a Prince of Hell? Like me?”
“No. It’s more than that. Tessa went to the Labyrinth not just to hide but to research. Eldest curses are not just children of Princes of Hell. They’re the oldest living children of those princes. There can only be nine of them alive at any one time, and I know of only two. And I’m talking to one of them and married to the other.”
Magnus started. “I didn’t know you got married.” It had been a long, strange road for Jem and Tessa; he was glad if they were reaching a place they could finally rest together. “Congratulations.”
“Well, not really,” said Jem. “We got married by mundane laws—in private, you understand, in secret, no one there but us and the necessary officials.” He gazed at the water. “We want desperately to have a proper wedding, with all our friends and family, but—we lead a dangerous life. We have been searching a long time for something many bad people also want to find. More than just Shinyun has pursued us. I couldn’t ask my friends, or Tessa’s descendants, to come to a wedding ceremony where they might be in peril.”
> “Sounds like an interesting party to me,” said Magnus, but the deep sadness in Jem’s eyes plucked at his heart. “Look—I can think of a way I could help you hold a wedding, safely, with everyone you want there. When we make it out of this whole situation, I’ll show you.”
“Thank you,” said Jem. He caught at Magnus’s hand. “Thank you. I’ll do whatever I can to help you with the Shinyun problem. When we learned from the Labyrinth that she was in Shanghai, I came here to see if the Institute had seen anything. They hadn’t, but then you showed up. I’ve been here only a few more days than you.”
“Well,” said Magnus, “what have you found out?”
Jem sighed. “That Portals aren’t working.”
Magnus said, very quietly, “Shinyun is working on behalf of Sammael. Sammael Sammael,” he added significantly.
Jem’s eyebrows went up. “Well, that’s not a name you hear every day. Since Earth isn’t currently in an apocalyptic demon war, I assume he’s not actually here.”
“I assume that too, but I don’t know how Shinyun has been communicating with him, or where he is. Or what form he’s in, for that matter.” Magnus thought. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Sammael has any interest in Tessa. Shinyun told me that she hasn’t even told Sammael about me being part of this.”
Jem considered this. “It doesn’t make me feel all that much better.” He sighed. “I guess it was inevitable. We both know Princes of Hell can’t really be killed. They just go away and then come back eventually. It’s been a thousand years; it’s surprising it took this long.”
Magnus laughed. “You know, the funny thing is, he just missed Lilith by a bit.”
Tian appeared from around the corner in the courtyard beyond, where the girl was practicing. He was in his distinctive burgundy gear, with the silver lines of his rope dart in loops around his body. He leaned down to talk with the girl.
“I should find Alec,” Magnus said. “Do you know where the others are?”
“The coach house, I should think,” said Jem. “They were freshening up—”
He stopped as an older woman with long gray hair in two braids appeared from the house and stared them down. She was holding a wooden spoon the size of a longsword and a bowl twice the size of Magnus’s head. On each of her upper arms was a gigantic Balance rune.
There were also runes on the spoon.
“Mother Yun,” said Jem mildly. “Tian’s grandmother.”
“Your friends are sitting at the table for dinner,” apparently-Mother-Yun snapped at Jem in Mandarin. “Which is more than I can say for you. Or her.” She waved the spoon at the training girl. “LIQIN!” she hollered at the top of her lungs. “Come and eat, girl! You too, xiao Tian.”
The girl literally stopped her leg in the air mid-kick and slowly lowered it. She turned and saw that Magnus and Jem had been watching her, and suddenly became self-conscious. “That’s another Ke cousin,” Jem said. “Liqin. Tian’s kind of an older brother to her, since he’s an only child.”
The girl, with the same serious-minded expression that Tian seemed to default to, nodded to Jem and hurried past to heed Mother Yun’s warning.
“Hi, Liqin,” Magnus said, waving.
The girl stopped and rolled her eyes. “It’s Laura, actually. I’m from Melbourne. Auntie Yun won’t call me anything but my Chinese name, even though she speaks English perfectly well.” These last two words were directed somewhat more pointedly in the direction of their target.
“Hi, Laura,” said Magnus, waving again.
She blushed and ducked her head, heading in for food.
“And you,” Yun said to Jem, still in Mandarin. “Jian. You come in at once too. With your friend.”
“Yun, mei mei,” Jem said, drawing himself up to his full height and bearing. Magnus smiled to hear Jem address Yun as little sister: technically, she was younger than Jem, though she looked decades older. “I am your great-great-uncle-cousin, or something like that, and I will not be spoken to in that manner. But yes, Magnus,” he added under his breath, “let’s go. You don’t want to see her get mad.”
* * *
IT HAD TAKEN ALL OF Alec’s willpower to not spend his whole time at Ke House watching Magnus sleep. Once they had found that Brother Zachariah—now just Jem Carstairs—was in residence, they had let him examine Magnus, and he proclaimed that, for the moment, what Magnus needed most was rest. So Alec had let him sleep.
He’d felt awkward, at first, in these strangers’ home, without Magnus to be breezy and friendly and make everyone comfortable. Luckily, Alec had a tendency to stick close to outgoing and confident people, and Jace and Isabelle had made all the introductions and explanations, while he, Clary, and Simon had hung back. At least until Jem arrived, at which point Clary and Simon had perked up and gone to chat with him and explain the situation.
Alec still didn’t think he knew Jem all that well, even though he’d met him a number of times now. As with so many of Magnus’s old friends, the literal centuries—well, one and a half centuries, in Jem’s case—seemed an unbreachable hurdle. But Jem himself was preternaturally kind, and he had come over to speak with Alec himself—to assure him that Magnus was all right, that he had burned through a lot of magic in a short time, that he would feel better after a good rest, and that in the meantime Alec should enjoy the grounds and come meet the family.
The only ones in residence today turned out to be Tian’s grandmother, who Jem called Mother Yun, and his cousin Liqin, who stared bug-eyed at Clary for a few seconds and then ran away. The guests had been given tea and shown around the property, which was as dense with Shadowhunter history as the Institute itself. It was unfortunate, he felt, that none of them could pay proper attention to the place. They were all still shaken up from the encounter with Shinyun and her demon army.
While Magnus slept and Yun prepared dinner, Tian took his guests into the dining room, where a long rosewood table dominated the space. He sat down with a sigh, running his hands through his hair.
“Please sit,” he said. “I know I’ve been dragging you all over this house without engaging in the discussion we really need to have, but I needed time to think.”
Alec and Jace exchanged a look of shared relief. Alec knew Jace had barely been holding himself back from demanding answers about supposedly extinct skeleton warriors. They all took seats, their attention fixed on Tian.
“I need to know,” Tian said. “Who was that warlock? The one commanding Baigujing’s daughters?”
“Shinyun Jung,” Alec said. “A warlock who only makes bad decisions. What would it mean for her to be commanding Baigujing’s daughters?”
“They are fiercely loyal to Baigujing herself. And this Jung Shinyun—a warlock who could command Baigujing—would be a powerful one indeed.” Tian looked at Alec. “I assume she is the warlock who stole the book you’re looking for.”
Alec nodded.
“I may have to explain something of the history of demons in Shanghai,” said Tian. “I’ll try to keep it short.”
“I recommend the use of dioramas,” said Jace. Clary kicked him under the table.
The Nephilim of China, Tian explained, and especially of Shanghai, had been tormented for years and years in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries by Yanluo, a Greater Demon known to mundanes across East Asia as the King of Hell. He had banded together with other powerful demons as well, including Baigujing, and together they waged a terrifying war against mundanes, Downworlders, and Shadowhunters alike.
When Yanluo struck at the Shanghai Institute in 1872 and murdered several Shadowhunters, he became the nemesis of the Ke family. They tracked him across China, finally slaughtering him in 1875. (Tian seemed rightfully proud of this fact.)
“He’s dead,” said Jace. “So he’s not our problem, I take it?”
“What about Baigujing?” asked Isabelle.
“That’s the thing,” said Tian. “Yanluo is not the actual King of Hell, of course. He isn’t even a Pr
ince of Hell. Mundanes called him the King of Hell because his realm, Diyu, was believed to be the human underworld. It was a horrible place. No one seems to know how Yanluo came to rule over Diyu, but he used it to torture mundane souls and entertain his demon cohorts with scenes of bloody massacres and torment.” He sighed. “For a very long time, the only permanent passage between Diyu and our world—or any world—was a Portal right here in Shanghai. This was before humans could make their own Portals, of course, and Yanluo would pass back and forth between the worlds without anybody being able to do anything about it. The moment he died, though, the Portal was closed—forever—and his cohorts were trapped in Diyu. Baigujing and her daughters were among them.”
“Well, they’re out now,” said Simon grimly.
“Could the Portal that closed have opened again?” demanded Clary. “Should we go check on it?”
“No one knows where it is—or was,” said Tian. “Around the time of Yanluo’s death, Shanghai was in the middle of a huge expansion, with all the European countries establishing territory here and trade exploding. It’s not clear what happened to the Portal. Nobody’s stumbled across it since Yanluo’s death, in any event. Most of us believed it vanished when he died. He was the sort who wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to use it if he couldn’t.”
Liqin entered abruptly and sat herself down at the table with a kind of military discipline, and Tian interrupted his story to ask her how her training had gone. Alec noted with some surprise that when she responded, she did so in a definite Australian accent. And then Jem arrived, with Magnus.
The Shadowhunters sprang up from the table as one to greet them and check on Magnus, but Alec made sure he got there first. He grabbed Magnus around the waist and held him fast. “I didn’t even know you were awake,” he said in a low voice. “How are you feeling?”
The Lost Book of the White Page 11
