Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices #2)(84)

"And what is that?" said Diana. "What is it you want, Malcolm?"

"I want what I've always wanted. I want Annabel and what it will take to get her back." Malcolm laughed. It was a gurgling sort of sound. "I want my Blackthorn blood."

* * *

Emma couldn't remember dropping to her knees, but she was kneeling.

Churned ground and dead leaves were all around her. The faerie knight-her father-was on his back in a pool of spreading blood. It soaked into the already dark earth and turned it nearly black.

"Daddy," she whispered. "Daddy, please look at me."

She hadn't said the word "daddy" in years. Probably since she was seven years old.

Blue eyes opened in his scarred face. He looked just as Emma remembered him-blond whiskers where he'd forgotten to shave, lines of kindness around his eyes. Dried blood spattered his cheek. He stared at her, wide-eyed.

The King laughed. "Cut his throat," he said. "Or can't you kill your own father, girl?"

John Carstairs's lips moved, but no sound came out.

You will see again the face of someone you loved, who is dead, the phouka had said. But Emma had never dreamed this, not this.

She caught hold of her father's arm, covered in leathery faerie armor. "I concede," she said raggedly, "I concede, I concede, just help him-"

"She has conceded," said the King.

The Court began to laugh. Laughter rose up around Emma, though she barely heard it. A voice in the back of her head was telling her that this wasn't right, there was a fundamental wrongness here, but the sight of her father was roaring in her head like the sound of a crashing wave. She reached for a stele-he was still a Shadowhunter after all-but dropped her hand; no iratze would work here.

"I won't leave you," she said. Her head was buzzing. "I won't leave you here." She gripped his arm tighter, crouching at the foot of the pavilion, aware of the King's gaze on her, the laughter all around. "I'll stay."

* * *

It was Arthur who moved. He burst away from the wall, careening toward Livvy and Ty. He seized each of them by an arm and propelled them toward the Institute door.



       
         
       
        

They both struggled, but Arthur seemed shockingly strong. Livvy half-turned, calling Kit's name. Arthur kicked the front door open and shoved his niece and nephew through. Kit could hear Livvy shouting, and the door slammed behind them.

Diana arched an eyebrow at Malcolm. "Blackthorn blood, you said?"

Malcolm sighed. "Mad dogs and Englishmen," he said. "And sometimes you encounter someone who's both. He can't think that would work."

"Are you saying you can get into the Institute?" Diego demanded.

"I'm saying it doesn't matter," said Malcolm. "I set this all up before Emma killed me. My death-and I am dead, though not for long, isn't the Black Volume wonderful?-released the sea demons along this coast. What you see with me tonight is a tiny fraction of the numbers I control. Either you bring me a Blackthorn, or I send them up on land to murder and destroy mundanes."

"We will stop you," Diana said. "The Clave will stop you. They will send Shadowhunters-"

"There aren't enough of you," said Malcolm, with glee. He had begun to pace up and down in front of the wall of sea demons that slavered behind him. "That's the beauty of the Dark War. You simply can't hold off every demon in the Pacific, not with your current numbers. Oh, I'm not saying you might not win eventually. You would. But think of the death toll in the meantime. Is one measly Blackthorn really worth it?"

"We're not going to give you one of our own to murder, Fade," said Diana. "You know better than that."

"You don't speak for the Clave, Diana," said Malcolm. "And they are not above sacrifices." He tried to grin. One rotted lip split, and black fluid spilled down his chin. "One for many."

Diana was breathing hard, her shoulders rising and falling angrily. "And then what? All that death and destruction and what will you gain?"

"You will have also suffered," said Malcolm. "And that is enough for me, for now. That the Blackthorns suffer." His eyes raked the group in front of him. "Where are my Julian and Emma? And Mark? Too cowardly to face me?" He chuckled. "Too bad. I would have liked to see Emma's face when she laid eyes on me. You may tell her I said I hope the curse consumes them both."

Consumes who? Kit thought, but Malcolm's gaze had dipped to focus on him, and he saw the warlock's milky eyes glitter. "Sorry about your father, Herondale," said Malcolm. "It couldn't be helped."