Lucie tensed, but the expression in her father’s blue eyes didn’t change—mild worry mixed with curious puzzlement. He really couldn’t see Jesse.

Jesse looked at her and, very irritatingly, shrugged as if to say, I told you so.

“No, Papa,” she said. “Everything is all right.”

He looked at the manuscript pages scattered all over the rug. “Spot of writer’s block, Lulu?”

Jesse raised an eyebrow. Lulu? he mouthed.

Lucie considered whether it was possible to die of humiliation. She did not dare look at Jesse. She stared straight at her father instead. He still looked worried. “Is something wrong, Papa?”

Will shook his head. Lucie could not remember when the white threads at his temples had appeared, salting the black of his hair. “Long ago,” he said, “I was the one warning the Clave that something terrible was coming. A threat we did not know how to face. Now I am the Clave, and I still cannot convince those around me that more steps should be taken than simply setting patrols in a park.”

“Is that really all they are doing?”

“Your mother believes the answer is to be found in the library,” Will said, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. The backs of her father’s hands were scarred from a demon attack that had happened years ago, when Lucie was a child. “Your uncle Jem believes the warlocks may have some useful knowledge hidden in their Spiral Labyrinth.”

“And what do you believe?” said Lucie.

“I believe there are always those who stay vigilant and seek the truth rather than easy answers,” he said, with a smile that Lucie could tell was more for her than for himself. “In the meantime, I shall be with your mother in the library. We are still under the A section of the Unusual Demons book. Who knew there was a wormlike creature called the Aaardshak common in Sri Lanka?”

“Cordelia, perhaps,” said Lucie. “She has been everywhere.” She frowned. “Is it selfishly awful to worry that all this business will delay our becoming parabatai? I feel I will be a better Shadowhunter when it is done. Were you not one, after you became parabatai with Uncle Jem?”

“A better Shadowhunter and a better man,” said Will. “All the best of me, I learned from Jem and your mother. All I want for you and Cordelia is to have what I had, a friendship that shall shape all your days. And never to be parted.”

Lucie knew her parents had done great deeds that had become famous Nephilim stories, but they had suffered too much. Lucie had long ago decided that living in a story would be terribly uncomfortable. Far better to write them, and control the tale so it was never too sad or too scary, only just enough to be intriguing.

Will sighed. “Get some sleep, fy nghariad bach. Hopefully our infirmary dwellers will be better tomorrow.”