For just a moment, Belial’s expression lost its composure, and in that space Tatiana seemed able to see down through the abyss into the visible darkness of the Pit. “You prepared him?” he sneered. “When he came to me in my realm, there was no bracelet on his wrist. He was protected.”

Tatiana blanched. “That’s not possible. It was on his wrist at the meeting today. I saw it!”

A smirk passed over Belial’s face, but vanished quickly. “That was not all. You did not tell me that the Carstairs girl bears one of the blades of Wayland the Smith.”

He opened his jacket. There on his chest was a wound, a bloody tear in the fabric of his shirt through which dark red blood seeped. A wound that seemed fresh and unhealed. Though Tatiana knew he was not really here in a solid form, not really bleeding, the sight was still disturbing. One should not be able to wound a Prince of Hell.

She took a step back. “I—I didn’t think it important. The girl seems like nothing—”

“Then you do not understand what Cortana is. As long as she bears that sword, and protects James, I will not be able to come near him.” Belial snapped his jacket closed. “Those fools believe that since I have been wounded by that blade, I will not be able to return to their world for a century’s time. They do not know I have an anchor here. Nor do they understand the power of my wrath.” He bared his teeth, and each was a sharp, filed point. “They will see my return sooner than they think.”

Tatiana knew she should dread the rage of a Prince of Hell, but there could be no fear when you had already lost everything that mattered. Her lip curled back. “I suppose you will be facing that return alone, as I will be imprisoned in the Adamant Citadel.” She touched Jesse’s coffin, a sob rising in her throat. “And my beautiful boy will languish without me.”

“Oh Tatiana, my dark swan,” Belial murmured, and now he was smiling. “Don’t you see this is the culmination of my plan? The Herondales, the Lightwoods, the Enclave, all of them have blocked you from their seats of power. But where does the heart of the Nephilim lie? It lies in their gift from the angel, the adamas. The steles that draw their runes, the seraph blades that protect them.”

She looked up at him, realization dawning. “You mean—”

“No one can break into the Adamant Citadel,” he said. “But you will be escorted in, my dear. And then you will strike at the Clave from its very heart. We will strike together.”

With her hand braced upon the coffin of her son, Tatiana began to smile.

NOTES ON THE TEXT