“All this ‘being the descendant of the First Heir’ stuff,” said Kit. “I don’t know what to do about it, but I know I have to be ready. I think about evil faeries, and Herondales, and my dad, and I don’t know how to be anything but a big mess.”

Jem did not know what would come either, but he was sure of one thing. Kit would not run when danger called. Kit would stand and fight. The search for the lost Herondale, Jem refusing the Greater Demon Belial’s temptations, Jem being turned away and then called back by Rosemary Herondale, had all led to this. Rosemary’s child was Jem’s now. It was Jem’s job to teach Kit how to fight as well as he could.

“Think of the people you love,” said Jem, and Kit startled. “It doesn’t matter if they didn’t love you back, or if they did. You keep them here.”

Jem reached out and laid his hand against Kit’s chest, felt it beating too swiftly beneath his palm.

“Do you want to keep them somewhere small and mean, with the walls closing in?”

Kit shook his head silently, lips pressed tight together.

“No,” Jem said softly. “You won’t. You choose to be yourself, your best self. You can be descended from gods and monsters. You can take the light they left you and be a lamp shining out all their light made new. You can battle the darkness. You can choose always to fight and hope. That is what it means to have a great heart. Don’t be afraid of being yourself.”

“But …” Kit fumbled for words. “I know that you and Tessa took me in because of Will. And I’m—I’m grateful, I want to—I can be like—”

His shoulders shook and Jem reached out, putting his arms around Kit. He felt Kit’s muscles lock, almost straining away, then felt the moment when Kit chose to lean in and lay his head down on Jem’s shoulder.

“No,” Jem told him fiercely. “Don’t be grateful. Where there is love, Kit,” he murmured into the wild gold of his hair, “there is no need for gratitude. And I love you.”

Kit shook, and nodded, once.

“Okay,” Kit whispered.

Jem felt tears drop hot into the curve of his neck. He held Kit safe in his arms, until his tears were dry and they could both pretend he had not wept. He held Kit until Church growled jealously and tried to squirm in between them.

“Dumb cat,” Kit muttered.

Church hissed and swiped at him. Jem gave Church a disappointed look, then stood and offered Kit a hand.

“Come inside where it’s warm,” Jem said. “Tomorrow, we’ll start you on weights so you can learn the right balance to strike with that sword. For now I can hear Tessa and Mina. Let’s go be with our family.”