Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices #2)(15)

"What?" he said. "You can't see any Marks."

"You don't need to," said Kit, in a bored voice. "You look like a cop. All of you always look like cops." 

Julian's headache intensified. "And your suggestion?"

"Let me go in alone," Kit said. "They know me, they trust me. They'll answer my questions and sell me whatever I want." He held out a hand. "I'll need some money, of course."

Julian looked at him in disbelief. "You didn't really think that would work, did you?"

Kit shrugged and retracted his hand. "It could've worked."

Julian started walking toward the alley that led to the entrance to the Shadow Market. He'd only been there once, years ago, but he remembered it well. Shadow Markets had sprung up in the aftermath of the Cold Peace, a way for Downworlders to do business away from the spotlight of the new Laws. "So, let me guess. Your plan was to take some money from me, pretend you were going to the Shadow Market, and hop a bus out of town?"

"Actually, my plan was to take some money from you, pretend I was going to the Shadow Market, and hop on the Metrolink," said Kit. "They have trains that leave this city now. Major development, I know. You should try to keep track of these things."

Julian wondered briefly what Jace would do if he strangled Kit. He considered voicing the thought aloud, but they'd reached the end of the alley, where a slight shimmer in the air was visible. He grabbed Kit by the arm, propelling them both through it at the same time.

They emerged on the other side into the heart of the Market. Light flared all around them, blotting out the stars overhead. Even the moon seemed a pale shell.

Julian was still gripping Kit's arm, but Kit was making no move to run. He was looking around with a wistfulness that made him look young-sometimes it was hard for Julian to remember that Kit was the same age as Ty. His blue eyes-clear and sky-colored, without the green tinge that characterized the Blackthorns' eyes-moved around the Market, taking it in.

Rows of booths were lit with torches whose fires blazed gold, blue, and poison green. Trellises of flowers richer and sweeter-smelling than white oleander or jacaranda blossoms cascaded down the sides of stalls. Beautiful faerie girls and boys danced to the music of reeds and pipes. Everywhere were voices clamoring for them to come buy, come buy. Weapons were on display, and jewelry, and vials of potions and powders.

"This way," said Kit, pulling his arm out of Julian's grip.

Julian followed. He could feel eyes on them, wondered if it was because Kit had been right: He looked like a cop, or the supernatural version, anyway. He was a Shadowhunter, had always been a Shadowhunter. You couldn't shed your nature.

They had reached one of the Market's edges, where the light was dimmer, and it was possible to see the white lines painted on the asphalt under them that revealed this place's daytime job as a parking lot.

Kit moved toward the closest booth, where a faerie woman sat in front of a sign that advertised fortune-telling and love potions. She looked up with a beaming smile as he approached.

"Kit!" she exclaimed. She wore a scrap of a white dress that set off her pale blue skin, and her pointed ears poked through lavender hair. Thin chains of gold and silver dangled around her neck and dripped from her wrists. She glared at Julian. "What is he doing here?"

"The Nephilim is all right, Hyacinth," Kit said. "I'll vouch for him. He just wants to buy something."

"Doesn't everyone," she murmured. She cast Julian a sly look. "You're a pretty one," she said. "Your eyes are almost the same color as me."

Julian moved closer to the booth. It was at times like this he wished he was any good at flirting. He wasn't. He had never in his life felt a flicker of desire for any girl who wasn't Emma, so it was something he'd never learned to do.



       
         
       
        

"I'm seeking a potion to cure madness in a Shadowhunter," he said. "Or at least to stop the symptoms for a while."

"What kind of madness?"

"He was tormented in the Courts," Julian said bluntly. "His mind was broken by the hallucinations and potions they forced on him."

"A Shadowhunter with faerie-caused madness? Oh my," she said, and there was skepticism in her tone. Julian began to explain about Uncle Arthur, without using his name: his situation and his condition. The fact that his lucid periods came and went. The fact that sometimes his moods made him bleak and cruel. That he recognized his family only part of the time. He described the potion Malcolm had made for Arthur, back when they trusted Malcolm and thought he was their friend.