“Has something happened?” It was James, having just arrived downstairs. Cordelia looked at him out of the corner of her eye; thinking about the way she’d last seen him made her feel like feathers were tickling her from the inside. James, though, did not look flushed, disheveled, or undone at all: he was still buttoning his jacket but seemed otherwise tranquil. His golden eyes were fixed on Thomas.

“I was at Matthew’s,” Thomas said. He seemed too distracted to come inside, though his rapid breath was making white clouds in the cold air. Cordelia could see no carriage behind him. He must have walked here, or run. “At least, I went to see Matthew. But Henry said Matthew wasn’t at home and he didn’t know when he’d be coming back. He took Oscar with him, too. Henry seemed grumpy. I thought that was odd. Henry’s hardly ever grumpy. It is odd, isn’t it? I should have asked more, but I couldn’t, not after I heard—”

“Tom,” James said gently. “Slow down. What happened?”

“I was meant to meet Matthew this morning,” said Thomas. “But when I got to the Consul’s, only Henry was there. He didn’t want to talk about Matthew, really, but he said Charlotte was called to the Institute—that someone else had died—” He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, almost violently.

“Someone was killed last night?” said Cordelia. “Another Shadowhunter on patrol?” She could not help but think of James’s screaming—she had burst into the room because the sound was so awful, and he had been thrashing, crying out in his sleep.

What had he dreamed?

“Not on patrol,” Thomas said. “Henry says they think it was someone coming back from Anna’s party. A girl.”

“Lucie was at Anna’s party,” Cordelia breathed. “Thomas—”

“It wasn’t Lucie. It seems Uncle Gabriel saw her come home last night. This girl was out much later, close to dawn. The patrol who found her body just said it was a girl with dark hair. And—Eugenia—I didn’t see her this morning. I know she was at the party last night, but I didn’t think anything of it until Henry told me what happened,” Thomas said quietly. “I should have gone straight home once he did, I know, but—after Barbara, I can’t—I need you with me. I need you with me, James.”

Thomas had lost one sister already that year, in the Mandikhor attacks. No wonder he looked so sick with terror. James went to put an arm around him as Cordelia turned to Risa.

“Please call the carriage,” she said. “We must get to the Institute, as fast as possible.”

There was already a crowd at the Institute when they arrived. The gates had been propped open, and Xanthos sped cheerfully below the arch, as if glad to be home.