They had reached a part of the Market where caravans were set up in a loose circle. In the center of the circle a bonfire of enchanted flames burned: as the sparks rose up, they took on different shapes—roses, stars, towers, crescent moons, even a coach-and-four. Ahead of them, freshly painted in purple and gold, was a caravan with an elaborately lettered advertisement on the side for Hypatia Vex’s new magic shop in Limehouse.

“Can we trust Hypatia?” said James. “She does seem to like Anna, but I’m not sure how far that liking stretches where we’re concerned. Especially since we stole her Pyxis.”

“She did mention that when Cordelia and I were at the Ruelle,” said Matthew, shooting Cordelia a rueful look. “She seemed to have come to terms with it. And she likes me.”

“Does she?” said Cordelia. “I really couldn’t tell.”

“Shadowhunters!” called a voice, rising above the noise of the Market. Cordelia turned to see Magnus Bane standing in the doorway of the purple-and-gold caravan. He wore a fitted silver frock coat, brilliant peacock-blue trousers, and a matching embroidered waistcoat, with a watch on a glittering chain tucked into one pocket. Silver cuff links glittered at his wrists, and he wore a silver ring set with a luminous blue stone. “What on earth are you doing, wandering around the Shadow Market like chickens waiting to get your heads cut off? Come inside immediately.”

He shooed them in, shaking his head as they spilled into the caravan. Inside, Hypatia had left her mark on every surface: jewel-toned velvet cushions were piled on the fringed carpets; gilded mirrors and exquisitely framed Japanese illustrations lined the walls. Lamps glowed from coved niches, and in the center of the room was a small table covered in papers—scribblings about the Limehouse magic shop, from what Cordelia could see.

“Magnus!” Lucie said, delighted, as she and the others found places on the scattered cushions. It was delicious to be in the warmth after the icy night outside. Cordelia sank into a massive blue velvet cushion, wiggling her toes inside her boots as they began to thaw. James settled beside her, his shoulder warm against her side. “Are you and Uncle Jem back, then? From the Spiral Labyrinth?”

“I’m only in London for tonight,” Magnus explained, settling into a brightly painted rattan chair. “Hypatia has kindly allowed me to hole up here, as my flat is full of ice trolls. It’s a bit of a long story. Brother Zachariah, alas, is still in the Labyrinth. His work ethic is unimpeachable.”

Cordelia cast a sideways glance at James. Did it bother him that Jem was so out of reach? If so, she could not tell; his expression was unreadable.