Clockwork Angel (The Infernal Devices #1)(57)
Author: Cassandra Clare

With a grin Magnus flung himself onto the great marble-topped table in the center of the room, and lay down on his side, his head propped on his hand. “Have you never seen a warlock do magic before?”

Will gave an exaggerated sigh. “Please refrain from teasing her, Magnus. I expect Camille told you she knows very little of the Shadow World.”

“Indeed,” Magnus said unrepentantly, “but it’s hard to believe, considering what she can do.” His eyes were on Tessa. “I saw your face when I kissed your hand. You knew who I was immediately, didn’t you? You know what Camille knows. There are some warlocks and demons who can shift—take on any shape. But I have never heard of one who could do what you do.”

“It cannot be said for certain that I’m a warlock,” Tessa said. “Charlotte says I’m not marked like a warlock would be marked.”

“Oh, you’re a warlock. Depend on it. Just because you don’t have bat ears …” Magnus saw Tessa frown, and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you don’t want to be a warlock, do you? You despise the idea.”

“I just never thought … ,” Tessa said in a whisper. “That I was anything other than human.”

Magnus’s tone was not unsympathetic. “Poor thing. Now that you know the truth, you can never go back.”

“Leave her alone, Magnus.” Will’s tone was sharp. “I must search the room. If you won’t help, at least try not to torment Tessa while I do it.” He moved toward the big oak desk in the corner of the room and began rummaging among the papers atop it.

Magnus glanced toward Tessa and winked. “I think he’s jealous,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Tessa shook her head and moved toward the nearest bookshelf. There was a book propped open on the middle shelf as if to display it. The pages were covered with bright, intricate figures, some parts of the illustrations gleaming as if they had been painted onto the parchment with gold. Tessa exclaimed in surprise. “It’s a Bible.”

“Does that astonish you?” Magnus inquired.

“I thought vampires couldn’t touch holy things.”

“It depends on the vampire—how long they’ve been alive, what kind of faith they have. De Quincey actually collects old Bibles. He says there’s hardly another book out there with so much blood on the pages.”

Tessa glanced toward the closed door. The faint swell of voices on the other side was audible. “Won’t we excite some sort of comment, hiding in here like this? The others—the vampires—I’m sure they were staring at us as we came in.”

“They were staring at Will.” In some ways Magnus’s smile was as unnerving as a vampire’s, even though he didn’t have fangs. “Will looks wrong.”

Tessa glanced over at Will, who was rummaging through the desk drawers with gloved hands. “I find that hard to credit coming from someone dressed as you are,” Will said.

Magnus ignored this. “Will doesn’t behave like the other human subjugates. He doesn’t stare at his mistress with blind adoration, for instance.”

“It’s that monstrous hat of hers,” said Will. “Puts me off.”

“Human subjugates are never ‘put off,’” said Magnus. “They adore their vampire masters, whatever they wear. Of course, the guests were also staring because they know of my relationship with Camille, and are wondering what we might be doing here in the library … alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Tessa.

Tessa thought back to her visions. “De Quincey … He said something to Camille about regretting her relationship with a werewolf. He made it sound as if it were a crime she committed.”

Magnus, who was now lying on his back and twirling his walking stick over his head, shrugged. “To him it would be. Vampires and werewolves despise each other. They claim it has something to do with the fact that the two races of demons that spawned them were involved in a blood feud, but if you ask me, it’s simply that they’re both predators, and predators always resent incursions into their territory. Not that vampires are all that fond of the fey, or my kind either, but de Quincey rather likes me. He thinks we’re friends. In fact, I suspect he’d like to be more than friends.” Magnus grinned, to Tessa’s confusion. “But I despise him, though he doesn’t know it.”

“Then, why spend time with him at all?” asked Will, who had moved to a tall secretary between two of the windows and was examining its contents. “Why come to his house?”

“Politics,” said Magnus with another shrug. “He is the head of the clan; for Camille not to come to his parties when invited would be construed as an insult. And for me to allow her to go alone would be … careless. De Quincey is dangerous, and no less to those of his own kind. Especially those who have displeased him in the past.”

“Then you should—,” Will began, and broke off, his voice altering. “I’ve found something.” He paused. “Perhaps you should have a look at this, Magnus.” Will came over to the table and set down on it what looked like a long sheet of rolled paper. He gestured for Tessa to join him, and unrolled the paper across the table’s surface. “There was little of interest in the desk,” he said, “but I did find this, hidden in a false drawer in the cabinet. Magnus, what do you think?”

Tessa, who had moved to stand beside Will at the table, gazed down at the paper. It was covered with a rough blueprint drawing of a human skeleton made up of pistons, cogs, and plates of hammered metal. The skull had a hinged jaw, open sockets for eyes, and a mouth that ended just behind the teeth. There was a panel in the chest too, just like Miranda’s. All along the left side of the page were scrawled what looked like notes, in a language Tessa could not decipher. The letters were utterly unfamiliar.

“Blueprint for an automaton,” said Magnus, cocking his head to the side. “An artificial human being. Humans have always been fascinated by the creatures—I suppose because they are humanoid but cannot die or be hurt. Have you ever read The Book of Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices?”

“I’ve never even heard of it,” said Will. “Are there any bleak moors in it, shrouded in mysterious mists? Ghostly brides wandering the halls of ruined castles? A handsome fellow rushing to the rescue of a beauteous yet penniless maiden?”

“No,” said Magnus. “There’s a rather racy bit about cogs halfway through, but really most of it is rather dry.”