Diana had made a heroic effort to teach lessons, as if everything were normal. No one could concentrate-for once Kit, despite being completely at sea regarding the comparisons of various seraphic alphabets, wasn't the most distracted person in the room. But the point of the lessons was to keep up appearances in front of the Centurions, so they slogged on.
Things didn't get much better at dinner. After a long, wet day during which they hadn't found anything, the Centurions were testy. It didn't help that Jon Cartwright had apparently had some kind of temper tantrum and stalked off, his whereabouts unknown. Judging by Zara's thinly compressed lips, he'd had an argument with her, though about what, Kit could only wonder. The morality of locking warlocks up in camps or escorting faeries to torture chambers, he guessed.
Diego and Rayan did their best to make cheerful conversation, but it failed. Livvy stared at Diego for most of the meal, probably thinking about their plan to use him to stop Zara, but it was clearly making Diego nervous, since he tried twice to cut his steak with a spoon. To make it worse, Dru and Tavvy seemed to pick up on the prickly vibes in the room and spent dinner peppering Diana with questions about when Julian and the others would be back from their "mission."
When it was all over, Kit thankfully slipped away, avoiding the washing-up after dinner, and found himself a quiet spot under the front portico of the house. The air blowing off the desert was cool and spiced, and the ocean gleamed under the stars, a sheet of deep black that ended in a series of unfurling white waves.
For the thousandth time, Kit asked himself what was keeping him here. While it seemed silly to disappear because of awkward dinner conversation, he'd been reminded sharply in the past day that the Blackthorns' problems weren't his, and probably never should be. It was one thing to be Johnny Rook's son.
It was another thing completely to be a Herondale.
He touched the silver of the ring on his finger, cool against his skin.
"I didn't know you were out here." It was Ty's voice; Kit knew it before he looked up. The other boy had come around the side of the house and was looking up at him curiously.
There was something around Ty's neck, but it wasn't his usual earphones. As he came up the stairs, a slim shadow in dark jeans and sweater, Kit realized it had eyes.
He pressed his back against the wall. "Is that a ferret?"
"It's wild," said Ty, leaning against the railing around the porch. "Ferrets are domesticated. So technically, it's a weasel, though if it was domesticated, it would be a ferret."
Kit stared at the animal. It blinked its eyes at him and wiggled its small paws.
"Wow," Kit said. He meant it.
The weasel ran down Ty's arm and leaped onto the railing, then disappeared into the darkness. "Ferrets make great pets," Ty said. "They're surprisingly loyal. Or at least, people say it's surprising. I don't know why it would be. They're clean, and they like toys and quiet. And they can be trained to-" He broke off. "Are you bored?"
"No." Kit was jolted; had he looked bored? He'd been enjoying the sound of Ty's voice, lively and thoughtful. "Why?"
"Julian says sometimes people don't want to know as much about some topics as I do," said Ty. "So I should just ask."
"I guess that's true for everyone," said Kit.
Ty shook his head. "No," he said. "I'm different." He didn't sound bothered, or at all upset about it. It was a fact he knew about himself and that was all. Ty had a quiet confidence Kit found to his surprise that he envied. He never thought he would have envied anything about a Shadowhunter.
Ty climbed up onto the porch beside Kit and sat down. He smelled faintly of desert, sand and sage. Kit thought of the way he'd liked the sound of Ty's voice: It was rare to hear someone get that kind of sincere pleasure out of simply sharing information. He guessed it might be a coping mechanism, too-with the unpleasantness of the Centurions, and the worry about Julian and the others, Ty was probably stressed out.
"Why are you outside?" Ty asked Kit. "Are you thinking about running away again?"
"No," Kit said. He wasn't, really. Maybe a little. Looking at Ty made him not want to think about it. It made him want to discover a mystery so he could present it to Ty for solving, the way you might give someone who loved candy a box of See's.
"I wish we all could," Ty said, with disarming frankness. "It took us a long time to feel safe here, after the Dark War. Now it feels as if the Institute is full of enemies again."