“Madame Vex,” Lucie said, “we’ve come because we need your help.”

Hypatia looked up from her bills. Some of her cloudlike hair had escaped the colorful scarf she’d used to tie it back, and there were ink stains on her hands. “Do you Shadowhunters ever come for any other reason? And I see you sent Anna to wheedle me.” She eyed Anna. “While I am quite fond of her, the last time we dallied, your friends ran off with my Pyxis box. It was an antique.”

“It had a demon in it,” Anna pointed out. “We probably did you a favor taking it safely off your hands.”

“The demon,” Hypatia said, “was also an antique. Regardless, I am not available for dalliances at the moment. I have a gentleman caller.”

Anna had finished her inspection of her glove. She smiled at Hypatia, and Lucie marveled—despite the Pyxis, despite Hypatia’s gentleman caller, she could see the warlock soften just a bit. Anna’s charm was a magical thing. “Speaking of gentleman callers,” she said. “There’s something I brought to show you.” From inside her jacket, Anna produced a small silver snuffbox, engraved with the initials MB in blocky script. “This belongs to our mutual friend Magnus Bane. He has been looking for it for quite some time.”

“You stole Magnus Bane’s snuffbox?” said Ariadne. “Anna, that could not possibly be a good idea. He’ll set you on fire. Magic fire.”

“Of course I didn’t,” said Anna, turning the small box over in her hands. “As it happens, my boot maker—a fine gentleman, one of the Tanner family—once had une liaison passionnée with Magnus. Boot makers are a surprisingly tempestuous bunch. When things ended badly between them, the boot maker pinched Magnus’s snuffbox, knowing he was fond of it.” She smiled at Hypatia. “I thought you might like to give it back to him. I’m sure he would be most grateful.”

Hypatia raised a dark eyebrow. “And how did you know that Mr. Bane is my gentleman caller? I thought we’d been rather discreet.”

“I know everything,” said Anna matter-of-factly.

Hypatia eyed the snuffbox. “I can see that you are not offering me something for nothing. What do you want?”

“To speak with you about an issue having to do with warlocks,” Anna said. “An old issue, recently—disinterred, so to speak. The death of a Shadowhunter boy named Jesse Blackthorn.”

Hypatia looked alarmed. “You think a warlock harmed a Shadowhunter child? You can’t imagine I’d—”

Lucie winced inwardly. She almost wished she could explain to Hypatia that it was the nameless warlock’s involvement in what had happened to Jesse after he died that she most needed to understand. She knew that was impossible, though: if anyone learned what she knew, what Grace knew, the danger to Jesse’s continued existence would be immense.