“Cordelia wants to be a hero,” said Anna. “One cannot do that by staying at home stitching samplers.” Her eyes gleamed. “I was at the Enclave meeting today; you were not. I know how the Enclave has decided to handle our current situation, and I do not think it will help those who are stricken, or prevent the attack at the lake from happening again.”

When Matthew spoke, the brashness had gone out of his voice. “I thought Barbara was getting better. Thomas said—”

“The Silent Brothers have put all the wounded to sleep,” said Cordelia, who had heard this from Alastair. “They hope that they will heal, but…”

“Hope is not a solution,” said Anna. “The Clave insists this was a random demon attack, which took place not in daylight but under cloud cover. They have set patrols in Regent’s Park.”

“It was not random,” said Cordelia. “There were mundanes in the park, too—none were attacked.”

“And the demons came before the cloud cover did,” said Matthew. “When Piers fell screaming, the sun was still visible.”

“You begin to see the problem,” said Anna. “Several Enclave members made those points, among them my parents, but the majority prefer to think of this as the sort of problem they have faced before. Not something new.”

“And you think it’s something new,” said Cordelia.

“I am sure of it,” said Anna. “And when a new supernatural threat enters London, who are the first to know of it? Downworlders. We should be asking questions in Downworld. There was a time when the Clave had connections with High Warlocks, with the leaders of the vampire and werewolf clans. With the Queen of the Seelie Court.” She shook her head in frustration. “I know Uncle Will and Aunt Tessa have done all they can, but these alliances have been left to fray and now Shadowhunters can only imagine relying on themselves.”

“I see,” said Matthew, whose eyes had begun to sparkle. “We shall be going to the Hell Ruelle, then.”

“Matthew and I occasionally attend an artistic salon in a building owned by the High Warlock of London,” said Anna. “Malcolm Fade.”

“Malcolm Fade?” Cordelia had heard of him. High Warlocks of cities were sometimes elected. Sometimes they simply claimed the title. Malcolm Fade had appeared in London somewhere around the turn of the century and announced that he would be High Warlock as Ragnor Fell was stepping down and no one had seen Magnus Bane recently.

Lucie had been electrified, especially when he came to pay a call on the Institute and chat with Will and Tessa. She said he had hair the color of salt and eyes the color of violets and she had been in love with him for almost a week, her letters full of nothing else.

“Every Downworlder who is anyone will be there,” said Anna. “It is time for us to do what we do best.”

“Drink?” said Matthew.