Thomas turned to Cordelia, making her suddenly aware how very tall he was. She had to stretch back her neck to look up at him. “Cordelia, I—I have owed you an apology for some time. I may have my own issues with Alastair, but I’m sorry I was rude to him at your wedding. It was unforgivable. I like you very much and consider you a friend. Though I cannot forgive Alastair, I will treat him politely for your sake. I should never have suggested otherwise.”

“Well,” Cordelia said. “Thank you. Though I agree that you shouldn’t be patrolling alone right now.”

Thomas opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “May I have your permission to shout, keeping in mind I am not shouting at you?” he said to Cordelia.

“Oh, quite,” she said. “I like a good shouting in general.”

“Yes,” agreed Lucie. “Shout at Matthew if you like.”

“Thank you very much, Luce,” said Matthew.

“Stop,” said James. They all looked at him in surprise. “We need to discuss what we’re dealing with before we argue about who’s going on patrol and when. Patrol is meant to be about demons, and Math told me the Enclave is already thinking this wasn’t a demon’s doing—”

“WHAT?” said Thomas, so loudly they all jumped. “Sorry,” he said. “I was all prepared to shout and I hadn’t got a chance yet.”

“What makes them say it wasn’t a demon?” Christopher asked thoughtfully.

“Pounceby was stabbed at least thirty times with a sharp blade,” Matthew said. “Demons don’t carry weapons.”

“It could have been a demon with very pointy talons,” Christopher argued, “or—it could have been a demon with a knife face.” He looked around eagerly.

“Knife face?” Matthew echoed. “That’s your argument?”

“Yes,” said Christopher stubbornly. “It could have some sort of facial protuberance. Maybe several. Like a long, pointy nose with a sharp edge.”

“There wasn’t any residue of demonic activity, either, on the bodies or at the sites,” said Matthew. “A demon would leave behind some kind of trace.”

“What about a Sighted mundane?” suggested Lucie. “Maybe he didn’t even know what he was seeing. He could have been drunk. Or mad. Maybe he was stumbling about in the dark, saw a Shadowhunter, and perceived he was some kind of threat.”

“Or it could be another Shadowhunter,” Matthew said. “Don’t look at me like that—we have to consider the possibility. After all, people commit murder for all kinds of reasons.”

“Like what?” James said skeptically.

“I don’t know—maybe Basil was a rival for someone’s affections, or the object of a grudge. Or someone resented him for creating Augustus. No one would be surprised. For that matter, it could have been Alastair.”

“Matthew,” Cordelia said furiously. “Must we keep bringing up my brother? Alastair may be many things, but he is not a murderer.”