“My mother just joined the Iron Sisters in the Adamant Citadel, but she is not one of them. She is not bound by their rules of silence. We could ask her to find out how your beloved fares in the Citadel. We could tell you how she is.”

Malcolm froze, the color draining from his already pale face. “You’re serious?”

Lucie wished she had asked Grace for more details about her plan. Somehow she’d imagined they’d simply approach Malcolm and ask for help. This was entirely unexpected; she wasn’t at all sure how she felt about it.

“We are serious,” said Grace. “Lucie would agree with me.”

Malcolm turned his gaze to Lucie. His eyes had darkened; they looked nearly black. “Is this indeed your offer, Miss Herondale? I assume you make it without the knowledge of your parents?”

“Yes, and yes,” said Lucie. “But—my parents have always taught me to right injustice. That is what I am trying to do. Someone is dead who should—who should never have died.”

Malcolm laughed bitterly. “Determined, aren’t you? You remind me of your father. Like a dog with a bone. Here is what you must know: even if it were possible to raise the dead without also taking life to restore balance, you would need a body for the departed to occupy. A body that hasn’t rotted away. But alas, as you surely must know by now, it is in the nature of the dead to rot.”

“But what if one had a body that was still in perfect condition?” Lucie said. “Unoccupied, as it were, but still, um, pristine?”

“Really?” Malcolm’s gaze moved from Lucie to Grace and back again. He sighed, as if in defeat. “All right,” he said at last. “If what you say is true—and you can bring me word of Annabel—then return when you have a message from her. I will be here.”

He rose, inclining his head curtly. It was clear their interview was over.

Lucie got to her feet, discovering she felt quite shaky. Grace had already risen, and made as if to stalk from the room, but as she passed Malcolm, he caught her arm and spoke in a deadly quiet voice.

“Miss Blackthorn,” he said. “In case you haven’t realized it already, the kind of enchantment you employ doesn’t work on those like me, nor do I consider it a frivolity, a harmless bit of magic. Try such tricks in the Ruelle again, and there will be consequences.”

He flung her arm away; Grace darted from the room, her head down. For a moment, Lucie thought—but no. It wasn’t possible. She could not have seen tears shining in Grace’s eyes.

“What do you mean by enchantment?” Lucie said. “Grace can’t cast a spell to save her life. I ought to know.”