“The protection spell,” Christopher said. “It’s done in the names of three angels.”

“Sanvi, Sansanvi, Semangelaf,” said James. “They are angels of protection. In the old texts, they are angels meant to protect against Lilith specifically.”

“So Christopher managed to make a Lilith-killing weapon?” said Anna. “Most amazing.”

“It didn’t kill her,” said Cordelia. “She was weakened, I think, and fled because she was startled and injured. But she is no more dead and gone than Belial is.” She looked around miserably at the group. “I will understand if you must distance yourselves from me. I am still Lilith’s paladin.”

“James is Belial’s grandson,” said Anna, “and none of us have abandoned him. That is not the spirit of the Merry Thieves.”

“That’s different,” Cordelia said, her voice a bit desperate. “Lilith is bound to me as a Shadowhunter. She could appear at any time, as has always been true, but whenever I draw a weapon, it will summon her. If I wield Cortana, then so does she, through me. If you think that it would be best to throw myself on the mercy of the Clave—”

“Obviously not,” said Matthew, spinning away from the window. “We will tell no one.”

Anna sat back in her chair. “You don’t think your mother would be merciful?”

“My mother would, Will and Tessa would,” Matthew said, nodding at James. “But plenty would not. Plenty would panic, and Cordelia would be in the Silent City before we could do anything.”

“Maybe I should be,” said Cordelia.

“Absolutely not,” said James. “It’s your choice, Daisy, what you want to do. If you want us to tell anyone. But I agree with Matthew. You’ve done nothing wrong—you’re no danger as long as you don’t pick up a weapon—and the Mother of Demons has reason to fear us.” He put his hand to his belt, where the revolver rested. “We’ve defeated worse than Lilith.”

“She’s not even a Prince of Hell, and we’ve defeated two of those today,” Thomas pointed out.

Cordelia clamped her lips together tightly, as if she were struggling not to cry. Christopher looked terribly alarmed. “Oh, what ho, tears,” he said helplessly. “Ghastly—not that you shouldn’t cry if you wish, of course. Cry like the blazes, Cordelia.”

“Christopher,” said James darkly. “You are not helping.”

Cordelia shook her head. “It’s not Christopher. Or—I suppose it is, but it’s not Christopher making me sad. It’s only… I had not realized—you really think of me as your friend, all of you?”

“Oh, darling,” said Anna affectionately. “Of course we do.”

I do not think of you as a friend, James thought, but all he said was, “We will manage this together, Daisy. We will never leave you alone.”