As they came to a sliding stop in the courtyard, Matthew reached to throw the carriage door open. He leaped down and turned to help Cordelia and Lucie after him. The courtyard was already full of carriages—Cordelia recognized the symbol of the Inquisitor’s family, an arched bridge, on one of them. She could also see Balios, his reins tied to a post near the front steps. His flanks were foamy with sweat; James must have ridden hell-for-leather through the streets.

As another carriage began to rattle under the gate, Matthew glared at his flask, which was apparently empty. “I think I’ll take a walk,” he said. “I shall return shortly.”

“Matthew!” Lucie looked horrified. “But the infirmary—and Thomas needs us—”

“I don’t like illness,” Matthew said shortly, and walked away, clearly choosing his steps very carefully. Cordelia wondered what had been in the flask. Something quite strong, she guessed.

Lucie looked furious. “How can he—”

She broke off as the new carriage came to a stop and Gabriel and Cecily Lightwood spilled out. Gabriel looked harried; Cecily, beside him, was carrying a very small boy—dark-haired and blue-eyed. Cordelia guessed he was Alexander, Lucie’s youngest cousin.

“Lucie!” Cecily cried, hurrying toward her niece. Cordelia hung back with a feeling of awkwardness. It was a sharp reminder of how far away from all this she had grown up. Not just geographically, but also socially. Alastair had at least had time at the Academy. This world, Lucie and James’s world, was a world of family and friends who loved each other, but did not know her at all.

“But I don’t understand,” Cecily was saying. “I know what Anna’s message said, but a demon attack in broad daylight? It makes no sense at all. Could it not have been something else?”

“Perhaps, Aunt Cecily, but these creatures left the sort of wounds that demons leave,” said Lucie. “And their blood was ichor.”

Gabriel put a hand on Lucie’s shoulder. “Half the Enclave has been dispatched to the park to help those who are still there and determine what occurred. It is most likely a freak occurrence, Luce. Horrible, but unlikely to ever happen again.”

“And Jem—Brother Zachariah will be here with the other Silent Brothers,” said Cecily, glancing up at the Institute. “They will heal Barbara and the others. I know they will.”

Brother Zachariah. Jem.

Of course he would be here, Cordelia realized. Jem Carstairs was a dedicated Silent Brother, and loyal to the London Institute. I could talk to him, she thought. About my father.

Jem was here to heal, she knew. But her father needed help as much as anyone, and there were other Silent Brothers in the Institute.

Looking from Gabriel to Cecily, she said, “Would you mind if I accompanied you to the infirmary? If there are bandages there, I could wrap my hands—”