"Are you all right?" Emma asked, sliding into step beside her. She was enormously glad to have Cristina there between her and Jules, something to smooth the prickly and dangerous roads of their conversations.
They passed into the station, which was brightly lit and modern, the walkways lined with stores like the Body Shop and Caffè Nero. She glanced ahead at Julian, but he was deep in discussion with Bridget. Julian had an amazing ability to make conversation with literally anyone. She wondered what he could possibly find to talk to Bridget about. Evelyn's odd habits? London history?
"Have you gotten a chance to talk to Mark at all about, you know, the kiss?" asked Emma as they passed an Upper Crust bakery that smelled like butter and cinnamon, mixed with the smoke of the station. "Especially with the whole Kieran thing going on now."
Cristina shook her head. She looked drawn and pale, as if she hadn't slept well. "Kieran and Mark have history. Like Diego and me. I can't find fault with Mark for being drawn to his history. It was the reason I was drawn to Diego, and I did that without all the pressures that are on Mark now."
"I don't know how it'll play out. Mark's not much of a liar," said Emma. "I say this as someone who isn't great at it myself."
Cristina gave a pained smile. "You are terrible. Watching you and Mark pretend to be in love was like watching two people who kept falling over and then hoping nobody noticed."
Emma giggled. "Very flattering."
"I am only saying that for the good of us all, Kieran must believe in Mark's feelings," said Cristina. "A faerie who thinks they have been scorned or spited can be very cruel."
She gasped suddenly, bending almost double. Emma caught her as she sank down. In a blind panic, she dragged Cristina into a corner between two shops. She didn't dare scream; she wasn't glamoured, mundanes would hear her. But she glanced toward Julian and Bridget, still deep in conversation, and thought as hard as she could.
Jules, Julian, I need you, right now, come right now, please!
"Emma-" Cristina had her arms crossed, hugging her stomach as if it pained her, but it was the blood on her shirt that terrified Emma.
"Cristina-sweetheart-let me see, let me see." She pulled frantically at Cristina's arms until the other girl let go.
There was blood on her right hand and sleeve. Most of it seemed to be coming from her arm and to have transferred itself to her shirt. Emma breathed a little easier. A wound to the arm was less serious than one to the body.
"What's going on?" It was Julian's voice. He and Bridget had reached them; Jules was white-faced. She saw the terror in his eyes and realized what had caused it: He'd thought something had happened to Emma.
"I'm all right," Emma said mechanically, shocked by the look on his face.
"Of course you are," said Bridget impatiently. "Let me get to the girl. Stop clinging to her, for goodness' sake."
Emma detached herself and watched as Bridget knelt and peeled Cristina's sleeve back. Cristina's wrist was banded with a bracelet of blood, her skin puffy. It was as if someone was tightening an invisible wire around her arm, cutting into the flesh.
"What are you two just sitting there for?" Bridget demanded. "Put a healing rune on the girl."
They both reached for steles; Julian got to his first and drew a quick iratze on Cristina's skin. Emma leaned forward, holding her breath.
Nothing happened. If anything, the skin around the bleeding circle seemed to swell more. A fresh gush of blood welled up, spattering Bridget's clothes. Emma wished she still had her old stele; she'd always superstitiously believed she could draw stronger runes with it. But it was in faerie hands now.
Cristina didn't whimper. She was a Shadowhunter, after all. But her voice shook. "I don't think an iratze will help this."
Emma shook her head. "What is it-?"
"It looks like a faerie charm," said Bridget. "While you were in the Lands, did any fey seem to cast a spell on you? Were your wrists ever tied?"
Cristina pushed herself up on her elbows. "That-I mean, that couldn't be it . . . ."
"What happened?" Emma demanded.
"At the revel, two girls tied my wrist and Mark's together with a ribbon," Cristina said reluctantly. "We sliced it off, but there may have been a stronger magic there than I guessed. It could be a sort of binding spell."
"This is the first time you've been away from Mark since we were in Faerie," Julian said. "You think that's it?"