The words hit Tessa like a blow.

It is not possible for me to go to the Bone City like this. I came here hoping you might be able to help.

“This is no time for pride,” Catarina said sternly.

It is not pride, Jem said. Tessa knew this was the truth; he was the least proud person she had ever known.

“Jem!” Tessa begged. “You must go!”

Catarina started. “This is James Carstairs?” she asked.

Of course Catarina knew the name of Will Herondale’s parabatai, though she had never met him. She did not understand all that had passed between Tessa and Jem. She did not know that they had been engaged to be married. That before there was a Tessa and Will, there had been a Tessa and Jem. Tessa did not speak of these things because of Will, and then because of the absence of Will.

I have come here because it is the only place I can go, Jem said. To speak the truth to the Brothers would be to endanger another life than mine. I will not do it.

Tessa looked to Catarina in desperation. “He means it,” she said. “He will never seek help if it means someone else will be hurt. Catarina—he cannot die. He cannot die.”

Catarina inhaled sharply and opened the door a crack to peer into the hall.

“We will need to get him back to the flat,” she said. “I can’t work on him here. I don’t have what I need. We will need to move quickly.”

Tessa seized hold of Jem’s stretcher. She understood the complications involved. They were nurses, in charge of many sick people who would be pouring in during the attack. The city was being bombed. It was on fire. Getting home was not a simple matter.

But it was what they were going to do.

The city they stepped back out into was not the same one that it had been only an hour before. The air was so hot that breathing burned the lungs. A high wall of orange jumped out of the buildings around them, and the silhouette of St. Paul’s stood out in intense relief. The scene was at once terrifying and almost beautiful, like a dream image from Blake, a poet her son James had always loved. On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?

But there was no time to think of things like London burning. There were two ambulances right outside on the street. Next to one, a driver was having a cigarette and talking to a fire warden.

“Charlie!” Catarina called.

The man tossed his cigarette aside and came running over.

“We need your help,” she said. “This man has an infection. We can’t keep him in the ward here.”

“You need me to take him to St. Thomas’, Sister? The going will be rough. We’ve got fires in almost every street.”