She broke off as Enoch went suddenly, perfectly still. He held his hands up, as if to stop all noise. He was speaking with the other Silent Brothers in his head, Cordelia realized. She knew they were all connected, a strange and silent chorus bound together across the globe.

After a long moment, Enoch lowered his hand. His blind gaze swept over the group. I have received a message from my brothers. Lilian Highsmith has been murdered, and an arrest made. The Inquisitor believes he has found the murderer.

Cordelia could not prevent herself from shooting a quick look at James. Someone had been murdered while James had been literally bound and imprisoned: it was impossible for him to have done it. Relief went through her in a wave, followed immediately by horror and shock: horror that someone had died, shock that the culprit might have been found.

“Who have they arrested?” Anna demanded. “Who did this?”

I believe it is someone you know, said Enoch, his silent voice grim. Thomas Lightwood.

The carriage hurtled through the streets of London, whipping in and out of traffic: thank Raziel it was a Sunday, and the roads were not crowded. It had barely come to a stop in the Institute courtyard before James had flung open the door and leaped down onto the flagstones.

There was already a crowd in the courtyard: Shadowhunters milling about, murmuring among themselves and stamping their feet in the cold of the morning. Some were in gear, others in their normal day dress. Cordelia and Lucie were scrambling down after James; the second carriage pulled in after them, disgorging Anna, Matthew, and Christopher. Everyone looked as stunned as James felt. It was some kind of thundering, bitter irony, like an awful revenge of the angels, he thought, giving the crowd a wide berth as he headed to the front door of the Institute. No sooner had it been proven that he was not guilty of the murders than Thomas was falsely accused.

And James knew it was false. Someone was playing a trick, a horrible trick, and when James got ahold of them, he would slice off their hands with a ragged seraph blade.

As he careened up the steps, the others quick on his heels, someone in the crowd shouted out, “You! Lightwoods!”

Christopher and Anna both turned, Christopher with an inquisitive look on his face. It was Augustus Pounceby, who had been muttering with the Townsends, who had called out. Anna gazed at him as if he were an insect she planned to feed to Percy.

“What?” she demanded.

“Get your parents to open up the Institute!” Augustus yelled. “We’ve heard they caught the murderer—we deserve to know who it is!”

“The Institute’s locked?” Lucie whispered. Usually anyone with Shadowhunter blood could open the front doors of the cathedral. Institutes were locked only in times of emergency. James took the remaining steps two at a time and seized the heavy door knocker.