Clockwork Angel (The Infernal Devices #1)(93)
Author: Cassandra Clare

“Yes,” he was saying, “Mr. and Mrs. Branwell were kind enough to call on me last week. And were even kinder, I understand, in keeping our meeting something of a secret.”

“They didn’t tell the Enclave about your occult experimentations, if that is what you mean,” Will said a bit shortly.

Mortmain reddened. “Yes. It was a favor. And I had thought to return the favor in kind—” He broke off, looking past Will at Tessa. “And who is this? Another Shadowhunter?”

Will and Jem both turned at the same time and saw Tessa. Jem looked pleased to see her; Will, of course, looked exasperated, and perhaps a touch amused. “Tessa,” he said. “Couldn’t keep your nose out, could you?” He turned back to Mortmain. “This is Miss Gray, of course. Nathaniel Gray’s sister.”

Mortmain looked appalled. “Oh, good God. I should have realized. You look like him. Miss Gray—”

“I don’t think she does, actually,” Will said, but rather quietly, so Tessa doubted Mortmain could hear him.

“You can’t see Nate,” Tessa said. “I don’t know if that’s why you’ve come here, Mr. Mortmain, but he isn’t well enough. He needs to recover from his ordeal, not be reminded of it.”

The lines deepened at the corners of Mortmain’s mouth. “I’m not here to see the boy,” he said. “I recognize that I failed him, failed him abominably. Mrs. Branwell made that clear—”

“You should have looked for him,” Tessa said. “My brother. You let him sink into the Shadow World without a trace.” Some small part of Tessa’s mind was amazed she was being so bold, but she went on, regardless. “When he told you he’d gone to work for de Quincey, you should have done something. You knew what kind of man de Quincey was—if you can even call him a man.”

“I know.” Mortmain looked gray beneath his hat. “That is why I am here. To try to make up for what I’ve done.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” asked Jem, in his clear, strong voice. “And why now?”

Mortmain looked at Tessa. “Your parents,” he said, “were good, kind people. I have always regretted introducing them to the Shadow World. At the time, I thought it all a delightful game and a bit of a joke. I have learned otherwise since. To assuage that guilt, I will tell you what I know. Even if it means I must flee England to escape de Quincey’s wrath.” He sighed. “Some time ago, de Quincey ordered from me a number of mechanical parts—cogs, cams, gears, and the like. I never asked what he needed them for. One does not inquire such things of the Magister. Only when you Nephilim came to see me did it occur to me that his need for them might be connected to a nefarious purpose. I investigated, and an informant within the club told me that de Quincey intended to build an army of mechanical monsters meant to destroy the ranks of Shadowhunters.” He shook his head. “De Quincey and his ilk may despise Shadowhunters, but I do not. I am only a human man. I know they are all that stand between me and a world in which I and my kind are the playthings of demons. I cannot stand behind what de Quincey is doing.”

“That is all very well,” Will said, a hint of impatience in his voice, “but you are not telling us anything we do not already know.”

“Did you also know,” Mortmain said, “that he paid a pair of warlocks called the Dark Sisters to create a binding spell that would animate these creatures not with mechanics but with demonic energies?”

“We did,” said Jem. “Though I believe there is only one Dark Sister remaining. Will destroyed the other one.”

“But her sister brought her back via a necromantic charm,” said Mortmain, a hint of triumph in his tone, as if he were relieved to at last have a piece of information that they did not. “Even now the two of them are ensconced in a mansion in Highgate—it used to belong to a warlock, until de Quincey had him killed—working on the binding spell. If my sources are correct, the Dark Sisters will attempt to implement the spell tonight.”

Will’s blue eyes were dark and thoughtful. “Thank you for the information,” he said, “but de Quincey will soon be no more of a threat to us, or his mechanical monsters, either.”

Mortmain’s eyes widened. “Is the Clave to move against the Magister? Tonight?”

“Goodness,” said Will. “You really do know all the terms, don’t you. It’s very disconcerting in a mundane.” He smiled pleasantly.

“You mean you’re not going to tell me,” said Mortmain ruefully. “I suppose you wouldn’t. But you should know that de Quincey has at his disposal hundreds of those clockwork creatures. An army. The moment the Dark Sisters work their spell, the army will rise and join with de Quincey. If the Enclave is to defeat him, it would be wise to ensure that that army does not rise, or they will be nearly impossible to defeat.”

“Are you aware of the Dark Sisters’ location, beyond the fact that it is in Highgate?” asked Jem.

Mortmain nodded. “Most certainly,” he said, and rattled off a street name and house number.

Will nodded. “Well, we’ll certainly take all this under advisement. Thank you.”

“Indeed,” said Jem. “Good evening, Mr. Mortmain.”

“But—” Mortmain looked taken aback. “Are you going to do something about what I’ve told you, or not?”

“I said we’d take it under advisement,” Will told him. “As for you, Mr. Mortmain, you look like a man with somewhere to be.”

“What?” Mortmain glanced down at his evening dress, and chuckled. “I suppose so. It’s just—if the Magister finds out that I’ve told you all this, my life could be in danger.”

“Then perhaps it is time for a holiday,” Jem suggested. “I’ve heard Italy is very pleasant this time of year.”

Mortmain looked from Will to Jem and back again, and then seemed to give up. His shoulders sagged. He raised his eyes to Tessa. “If you could pass along my apologies to your brother …”

“I don’t think so,” Tessa said, “but thank you, Mr. Mortmain.”

After a long pause he nodded, then turned away. The three of them watched as he climbed back into his carriage. The sound of the horses’ hooves was loud in the courtyard as the carriage pulled away and rattled through the Institute gates.