Janus would do better than tell Ash hollow words. Ash must be defended. If he had to, Janus would deal with anyone who posed a threat to Ash or his plans for Ash. This new Unseelie King might be a problem. Far worse, there were rumors about a danger the Queen would not speak of, but that Janus had heard about nonetheless: the descendant of someone called the First Heir. Whoever it was, if they dared threaten Ash, if anyone ever dared threaten Ash again, Janus would hunt them down and present Ash with their heads.

The blue waves crashed against the stones, miles down from the cliff at their feet. It made Janus recall a poem about the ocean in Faerieland.

For whatsoever from one place doth fall,

Is with the tide unto an other brought:

For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

“It’s a beautiful world out there,” Janus answered. “I was thinking I’d wrap a bow around it and give it to you.”

Soon Janus would have Clary, and Ash would have the world. They only had to wait.

Ash smiled. Behind his green eyes, a predator lurked, like a tiger half-obscured by leaves. “I’d like that,” he said.

Tessa was putting Mina down for her nap. Jem lay in the long grass beneath the oak tree, with his cat curled against his chest, almost napping himself. Church pressed his flat, fuzzy face on the place where he could feel Jem’s heartbeat. Jem could feel the cat’s purr reverberating through his chest, as if his heart and the cat’s contentment were combining to form the same song.

“It took us a long, long time to be happy,” said Jem. “But here we are. I think it was worth it, don’t you?”

Church purred agreement.

They were waiting, as the sun dipped lower in the sky, for Kit to stop feinting and parrying, fighting intently with nothing but air, and notice they were there.

“Oh, hey, Jem,” said Kit at last, lowering his broadsword and wiping the sweat from his brow with one suntanned forearm. “Hey, bad cat.”

“He’s a sweet cat, really,” said Jem. “You have to learn how he likes to be petted.”

“I know how he likes to be petted,” said Kit. “By you and no one else. That cat is waiting for the chance to literally pee in my Cheerios.” He pointed the sword accusingly at Church. “I’m watching you.”

Church seemed unimpressed.

They’d cleared a training ground for Kit at the bottom of the garden. It had been the first request he made, hesitantly and with many assurances that it was fine if it wasn’t convenient, and Tessa had used magic and Jem a scythe to clear a space at once. Kit trained there every day.

“I saw you running laps at dawn,” Jem observed.