When we arrive back at the New York Institute, Simon and Clary head home, seemingly overwhelmed by the day's events. I can't blame them. My own head is reeling, making me feel dizzy with an information overload. Izzy escorts Tessa to a room and I settle Jem in the bedroom across the hall. He sits down on the bed uncomfortably, looking around. He looks small in the large room, and I feel sorry for him. I never thought of Silent Brothers as humans will compassion and an ability to be hurt. I hover awkwardly in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot.
"Can I, urm, get you anything?" I ask. "Some other clothes, perhaps?"
He nods, straightening up a little. 'Yes, that would be fine, thank you.'
I return a few minutes later with a pair of jeans from my chest of drawers and a shirt and jacket of Jace's. I bring with me an old pair of gear boots I found in the changing space off the training room upstairs. I suppose it's a long shot that they'll fit, but it seemed only right to offer them.
"Here, I hope they fit." I say, putting them on the chair by the vanity table. "Is there anything else you need?"
'No, this is quite alright. Thank you, Alec.'
"I'll come back in a few minutes when you've..." I gesture to the clothes and leave, waiting out in the hall.
I sit down in the hallway, my back against the wall by Jem's door. Inside Tessa's room, the girls are talking.
"No, it's lovely. I like your bracelet, it's gorgeous. Are those real pearls?" Isabelle.
"Yes, they are. My husband Will bought it for me." Tessa.
I sit for ten minutes or so as the girls continue their conversation, but I've stopped listening. I tune into the familiar, creaking sounds of the old Institute. With the new and unusual sounds of the dozens of guests, I take a strange sort of comfort in the fact that the floorboards still creak and the door hinges still groan and the trees still bump against the windows with scraping thuds. When a couple more minutes have ticked by, I stand up, knock on Jem's door and enter cautiously.
He sits on the end of the bed, looking thoroughly awkward and diffident in the borrowed clothes. Indeed, it is unusual to see a Silent Brother – complete with rune-scarred cheeks and black hair bearing a single silver streak – in a grey v-neck shirt, leather gear jacket and black jeans. He shifts uncomfortably, runs an elegant hand through his hair and stands up, retaining the eerie grace of a Silent Brother despite his clear discomfort.
'Let us go.' He says, and I lead from the room.
It's becoming easy to find the Blackthorn children; I've learned to just follow the noise and trust it will lead me to them. And whilst Emma isn't a Blackthorn, I've come to think of her as one. I remember what Magnus said in my ear as we arrived back through the portal – "Introduce Jem and Emma Carstairs" – and knock on the children's door.
"Hi," I say, putting my head around the door and I'm met by a clamour of greetings. "Emma, can I borrow you for a second?"
She nods, looking curious and follows me from the room and down the Institute halls to a music room near the back of the building.
"What is it?" she asks, keeping pace with me.
"There's someone I'd like you to meet." I tell her, and push open the music room door, nodding for her to enter.
She does so, though hesitantly, and I close the door behind me as I follow her in. Jem stands from the piano stool as we enter, his new appearance still unusual.
"Emma, this is Jem. Jem, Emma Carstairs."
He looks a little taken aback, his dark eyes widening, but shakes her hand and offers her a seat politely.
'It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma.'
She appears surprised at his voice as it echoes within her mind, but takes it in her stride, perhaps leading by Jem's example.
"A Silent Brother?" she asks, curious, as she seats herself on the piano stool.
'Indeed. My formal Brotherhood name is Zachariah. But please, Jem is quite alright. In fact, I would prefer it.'
She nods and smiles at him, seemingly unfazed by the fact he belongs to the Silent City.
'A Carstairs?' Jem goes on, lowering himself carefully onto a crate full of seraph blades which – I suddenly remember – I was supposed to move to the weapons room last week.
"Yes, the only Carstairs left, I think." She sighs, her smile fading a little.
'I beg your pardon?' Jem asks, sounding unsettled.
"My mother and father died in the last battle against Sebastian. They were in New York on business and went to help. I was with the Blackthorns in LA so I'm staying there for now. Well, I'm not anymore, obviously. Now I'm here. We all are. But that's okay; the Blackthorns are practically family."
Jem nods, apparently quite affected by this news. He looks devastated, and I can't help admiring his empathy for Emma. He doesn't know her, but he seems truly concerned for her wellbeing, truly concerned that she has no family.
'I understand. I am sorry for your loss.'
"Thank you." She says, dropping her eyes to her feet.
I decide to leave them, as they seem to be getting along just fine. Nevertheless, an hour later, I decide to return to check they're okay and take Emma back to her room. But I change my mind when I approach the room. From under the closed door, the lilting, haunting hum of violin music pours and floods the hallway in beautiful music. I smile to myself, and decide not to interrupt.
I go back to the Infirmary, determined to spend at least a second with Magnus. I push the door open and walk down the aisle between the beds. The majority of them are now unoccupied as we've managed to find most people a room. But Magnus and I – along with a few others – remain. When I come in, he sits crossed-legged on his bed, his back against the headboard, a book in his lap and pen in hand. His head is bent forward, writing and reading, scribbling diagrams and lists on a small piece of paper, his eyebrows knitted in concentration, hair hanging over his face. I know that look; he must be working on a spell.
"Hey," I say, sitting down on the foot of the bed, careful to move the scattered sheets of paper from the duvet before I sit. "What are you doing?"
"Catching up on some client work." He replies, finishing writing out a spell hastily.
"Time for a break?"
He looks up, closing his book. "I think I could be persuaded."
"Come on," I say eagerly, and he smiles. "Let's go get coffee or..."
Just then, interrupting me, there's a familiar shuddering whoosh. The portal.
"Are you kidding?" I ask the universe. I sigh and turn to Magnus. "I should probably go check who that was." I give him an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry."
Magnus waves, picking up his book. "Don't be. Go. I'll see you soon. I'm sure the world won't run out of coffee in the time it takes you to sort this out. We'll go later."
I nod and kiss him quickly, cursing the universe and it's complete inability to effectively manage time and not get in the way of my coffee dates with my boyfriend, and slope dejectedly off to check the portal.
I walk into the library, hoping I can quickly resolve whatever has happened and go back to the infirmary and demand Magnus stop work immediately so we can go out. I'm so sick of this right now. I know this is my job, and I don't mind helping people and offering them refuge here in the slightest, but a selfish part of me just wishes they'd all go home so I wouldn't have to shoehorn in time with Magnus between daily crises. Then I look up and am met by the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered boy with white-blonde hair. He puts an old-fashioned leather suitcase down on the floor, framed by the slowly swirling surface of the portal, and looks at me. As the portals movement ceases, he steps forward after fixing me with a calculating look.
"Do you live here?" he asks, voice echoing in the open library.
I walk over and take him in. It's the familiar blue-green eyes that make me realize who this boy is.
"Yes, I'm Alec Lightwood." I say, and his face clears with recognition at my name. "Are you Mark?"
He blinks in surprise, then regains composure and nods.
"Yes. How did you know that?"
"Your family is here, and you look very alike." I explain.
He nods, understanding, seeming vaguely relieved I'm not psychic.
"Are they alright?" he asks. "My family? I didn't even know they were here until yesterday. My father is really worried, but he's working in Colorado and can't come. He sent me here because he said this was a safe place and if the others were anywhere, they'd be here. None of them are hurt?"
"They're okay, they're upstairs and they're all safe." I confirm. "I'll take you to them. Can I take your bag?"
"I've got it." He says, and I shrug, leading him upstairs to the Blackthorns' room.
The minute Mark walks into the room, the Blackthorns swarm him, rushing excitedly at their sibling.
"Mark! By the Angel!" Helen exclaims, pulling him into a tight hug. He drops his suitcase at his feet and wraps his arms around her. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." Mark assures her. "It's all okay. Dad and I are fine."
Livvy and Julian huddle around him and he pulls back from Helen, bending down to hug them both, an arm around each of them.
"How was Colorado?" Ty asks curiously.
Mark smiles at him warmly. "Cold. It was a lot better before I found out our home had been attacked and you guys had to leave, trust me. What happened?"
"We're not sure yet." Helen admits. "Dad's alright?"
Mark nods, picking a crying Tavvy off the floor and shifting the baby into his arms.
This reunion seems like a family moment, like I'm invading on something private. It feels wrong to interrupt and I start to slip soundlessly from the room when –
"Hey, where's Emma?" Mark asks, and all eyes swivel to me.
"She's with Brother – urm. I mean, Jem. She's with Jem." I explain.
"Who?" Julian asks.
"It's complicated." I say. "But I'll tell her you're here, Mark. I'm sure she'll be on her way in a while."
He nods. "Thanks."
Then he goes back to his siblings, and I leave the room, shutting the door behind me.