Er. So, um, hi. *waves* It's been three months since my last update…and I promise I never meant for it to take this long, but those of you who follow me on Tumblr know that I've been sucked into a new fandom and have been dealing with anxiety issues as well as recently coming back from New York City. Anyway, I just haven't had the time to work on Clockwork Queen until now, but I just wanted you guys to know that I would never give up on this story, especially when we're so close to the end. I was originally going to post a new chapter back in May as a celebration of the release of City of Heavenly Fire, but sadly that didn't work out. Nevertheless, here is the long-awaited update. As always, I hope you enjoy it, and hold on, because you're in for a ride!

P.S. I was listening to the song True Love by Coldplay on repeat while writing this chapter, if you're wondering what finally inspired me to start this story again.

The vast expanse of the lawn stretched out before me as I sprinted across the grass, one hand on my seraph blade and the other protecting my head. I had no idea if I was still being pursued or not, and I expected to be thrown to the ground with every passing second.

I was physically and mentally exhausted, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep up a steady pace. The demon towers didn't appear to be growing any closer, and I wondered if the laws of physics worked differently in Idris. Judging by the burning in my calves and my wheezing breaths, the laws of biology were working just fine.

When I could take it no longer, I finally collapsed onto the cold ground. My vision was coming and going in bursts of white and red, and I no longer had any semblance of control of my muscles. I rolled over onto my back, the stars spinning and dancing above me. I was lucky that it was past midnight; I would never have been able to flee in the middle of the day.

With my head whirling so crazily, I was unable to think straight—about my escape from the manor, about Grandma coming to fetch me, about what I was planning to do—but most importantly, I was unable to think about what I had done to Jem. It had been a spur-of-the-moment and completely irrational decision, but it had to be done. If I wanted to save him, I had to push him away. He had to know he wasn't responsible for what I was about to do. If he still believed that I loved him, he would blame himself if I got myself hurt or killed.

Then again, he would probably still blame himself either way, but perhaps his guilt would be lessened. The only thing I knew with any measure of certainty now was that I couldn't tell him I loved him and then cling on to him selfishly while he lived a life in the shadows. I had to at least try to save him. Even if my attempt failed—and it most likely would in the end—at least I could sleep easier knowing that I had done all I could. I had done enough sitting back and waiting throughout my life. Now was the time for me to finally act.

Somewhere in the distance, I faintly heard a muffled shout. The voice matched the one of the Clave member in Irina's house, and this time fear propelled me forward. Gritting my teeth and clenching my hand into a fist so that the Carstairs ring pressed into the dirt, I pulled myself up, briefly touching the pendant at my throat as if seeking reassurance. I quickly took inventory of my surroundings before getting to my feet, seeing that I was a little ways off the main road. The demon towers were no longer visible, hidden by a thicket of trees that blocked nearly everything from view. I had no idea which direction I was facing, but there was no time for me to wander around and look for a compass: again, the man's shout echoed across the field, and I stumbled forward, breaking into a slow run—I wasn't able to go any faster. Opting for security over a path, I headed for the trees, knowing that if the Clave didn't catch me, whatever animals lived in the forest certainly would.

A year ago, I wouldn't have left Irina's house, much less fled from the Clave. Then again, I hadn't known Jem a year ago, either. I still had time, the reasonable part of my mind tried to convince myself. I could allow myself to be caught and taken to a safe place, somewhere I wouldn't have to worry about demons or my training or anything supernatural at all. Maybe, eventually, I would be able to sleep in my own bed again without being haunted by nightmares.

But that wasn't a reasonable wish. I couldn't just carry on with my life like the past six months hadn't happened. I would be doing a disservice to both Jem and myself. The decisions I was making were, I realized, my only option.

Dad would be proud of me, I realized with a jolt. The thought put a strange lump in my throat. It was exactly the kind of idiotic, reckless thing he would have done: sacrificing everything for love. And he'd actually done it.

But look how well it turned out for him, a dark voice in the back of my mind whispered, and I furiously shook my head to clear it. Only I would be contemplating my life choices while I was on the run from the Clave.

Slowing to a walk, I leaned against a tree trunk and reached for my witchlight. I was now deep in the forest, the only shapes the looming shadows of trees all around me. The voice had disappeared, but that was hardly a comfort anymore. I had no idea how large it was, and I could wander around it for hours before finally finding an exit…

Calm down, Abby, I told myself sternly. Think logically. The forest cannot be too thick around here, since it is a relatively populated area. Now, in order to see the way out, I have to get up high.

An owl hooted from above me, and I jumped, the witchlight falling out of my hands and landing on the ground. Had it been any other object, I would have been unable to find it—but its soft blue glow was distinguishable even after it had bounced down a shallow ridge and landed in a pile of leaves. Cursing my poor coordination, I bent down to pick it up—

—And came face-to-face with a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my scream as I leapt away from the wolf, searching frantically around for an escape route. A low growl slipped from its throat as it took a step towards me, baring each and every one of its long yellow teeth. Wouldn't it be something if I managed to escape the Clave only to be attacked by an animal?

Hurriedly stowing away the witchlight, I pulled out my seraph blade and placed it between my teeth in case I required use of it before grabbing onto the lowest tree branch I saw and hauling myself up. Wolves couldn't climb trees, could they? Below me, the wolf slowly circled the tree as I wobbled above it, one of my legs dangling down over its mouth.

I didn't even need the Equilibrium rune as I pulled myself up from branch to branch, occasionally using knots in the trunk as footholds. I couldn't see a thing, but I was willing to give up my vision temporarily if it meant I could get away from the wolf. When leaves started scratching at my face and I was spitting out mouthfuls of bark, I forced myself to pretend that I was at the London Institute, climbing the rafters in the training-room with Jem. After all, this wasn't so different, was it? I remembered scuttling along the beams like a monkey, trying to keep up with him. God, I owed Jem so much: yet again, he had saved my life in a way he would never be aware of. Never had I thought that climbing the rafters would come in handy one day.

I knew I was getting close to the top when the branches began to thin out and the twinkling stars were visible again. Crouching down so that less of my weight was putting pressure on the branch, I positioned myself so that I could easily grab another one if I lost my balance, and pushed another cluster of leaves aside to be met with cool, empty air.

I was higher up than I'd expected, and I could see that the path leading to the city was winding and narrow, weaving around sprawling manors and small hills. There were more houses situated along the edges of Alicante than I had thought: each represented a prominent Shadowhunter family. I assumed the Cartwright manor was back in the opposite direction: there was only one mansion flooded with light, which unnervingly happened to be the one closest to me.

I prayed that the Clave hadn't found me yet as I carefully climbed down from the tree, trying to convince myself that the lights were only coincidence. Surely they hadn't put a tracker on me—

The second my feet hit the ground, there was a rustling from the dark forest, and the wolf was suddenly flying at me. I didn't even have time to defend myself before I was thrown to the ground, the great beast's paws upon my shoulders and its teeth…licking me?

I stared up at the wolf, which, I realized, was not a wolf at all, but a husky, pinning me down to the ground and licking my face joyfully. I closed my eyes tightly and screwed up my face, turning my head to the side so it couldn't slobber all over me.

"Felix, come here," a female voice called, and my eyes shot open as the dog bounded away from me. I rolled over onto my side and wiped the drool off my face before slowly getting to my feet. I was ready to put my hands up in surrender—I had been discovered.

But my heart swelled with relief when a young girl, not the man I had feared, stepped out of the trees. She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, with bright red hair that glowed like a beacon in the shadowy backdrop, and large green eyes that made me think instinctively of Henry. She held the dog—Felix—back by the collar as his tail wagged madly, eager to greet me again.

"Who are you?" she asked me boldly; there was no fear in her eyes, only suspicion.

I paused before answering, choosing my words carefully. "My name is Abigail Cartwright. I was trying to find my way to the warlock Tessa Gray's cottage when I got lost in the woods. Do you know where she lives?"

"About ten minutes to the north," a different, male, voice stated before the girl could answer, and another person appeared behind her. "Just follow the path and it's the smallest house on your left." He was tall and slim, with the same flaming hair and green eyes; it was obvious they were related. There was a small smile on his face as he said, "It's not often that Felix finds teenagers wandering around the forest past midnight."

"I can imagine," I said; the entire conversation was beginning to turn surreal. "You see, I'm sort of in an…urgent situation, and I need to speak to her."

"Yes, you're the one the Clave is searching for," he said evenly, and I could have sworn I saw a twinkle in his eye. "Don't worry—your secret is safe with us. Tessa has been a family friend for many generations."

They were Fairchilds: they had to be. Their appearance and knowledge of Tessa warranted them no other explanation. At that point I could have hugged both of them.

"Uncle Buford—" the girl began indignantly, but the man shook his head at her. "Hush, Jocelyn," he said. "This girl is of no threat. Felix would not have acted in such a way otherwise."

"You said that Tessa's cottage was to the north of here," I said faintly, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "Um, which way is north?"

Buford pointed to a sliver of light between two trees that I hadn't noticed earlier. "Go straight through there, and once you reach the path, turn right and continue along it. The cottage will be on your left."

I began to stumble towards the light, stopping to give Felix a light pat on the head; Jocelyn regarded me with wide eyes. "Thank you very much," I told Buford; there were so many questions I wanted to ask and not enough time to get answers to any of them. He inclined to his head to me and put a hand on Jocelyn's shoulder; before I could say anything more, they had both melted into the shadows.

I had never been so grateful to step out into open space, but I kept just inside the treeline as I followed it down to the main path, the light from the Fairchild manor spilling out onto the lawn. The low bubbling of a fountain was audible as I finally stepped back onto the path, gravel crunching loudly under my shoes. I still had no idea how far I was from where I'd started, but the path was deserted, and I hoped that it meant I was far enough.

Thankfully, Buford had been correct: barely ten minutes later, I found myself in front of a small wooden cottage shrouded in darkness. It was distinctly farther away from any of the manors, and had this been a mundane country, I would have assumed it had once been a servants' cottage.

As I knocked hesitantly on the door, I couldn't help but think of how ironic it would be it turned out that she wasn't home and I had come all this way for nothing.

But luckily, I was wrong: a candle flickered on dimly behind the curtains and the door opened to reveal a wary-looking Tessa, her hair down and wearing a white dressing-gown. When she saw me, her face morphed into one of surprise. "Abby!" she exclaimed, immediately ushering me inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Irina is sending me away," I explained, leaning against the back of the door; my eyes were beginning to close of their own accord, and it took all I had not to slump to the ground. Tessa's face had blurred into a haze of brown and white. "The Greater Demon breached Idris's wards—the Clave is after me—had to tell Jem—"

Something gently pulled me up by the hand, and I dimly realized that Tessa was supporting me, gently leading me forward into the cottage. Her cool hand brushed my sweaty hair away from my face. "Hush," she told me gently, and for a moment I pretended that she was my mother. "You need to sleep. You can explain everything tomorrow."

"But the Clave—"

"You are safe here, Abby," Tessa said gently but firmly, and this time I didn't argue with her. We'd stopped walking now, and all I could see was the shimmering outline of a bed in front of me—the most beautiful thing I'd seen all day. I was about to turn and thank Tessa, but it was too late: I had already fallen into darkness.

Somewhere in the distance, birds were chirping merrily and I could hear the sound of softly rustling trees just outside the window. I burrowed deeper into the covers, pretending that it was just a normal morning and I was back home in my own bed. But the fabric of the pillow was too soft, and the birds didn't sound anything like ordinary robins or sparrows.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes to a bedroom that was so small as to be almost claustrophobic: there was room for little else than a quilt-covered bed, a dresser with several photographs arranged on top, and a towering bookshelf stuffed to the brim with novels that reached almost up to the ceiling.

I felt a prick of guilt for taking over Tessa's bed; I hoped she had somewhere comfortable to sleep. But even worse than that was the guilt I would feel if the Clave went after her, thinking she had information—and they most likely would. She was already looked at with disdain by the majority of Shadowhunter society; they were probably just waiting for an excuse to cast her out.

I yawned hugely and stood up, refusing to think about my situation for the moment, and padded over to the three framed photographs, my heart skipping a beat when I could see them clearly.

The first was of Will and Tessa on their wedding day: the camera, no doubt one of Henry's inventions, showed barely a smudge, though it was still black-and-white. Tessa wore a golden dress that accentuated her slim figure perfectly, and her hair was twisted into a crown of curls on top of her head. She was arm-in-arm with Will, handsome as always in a suit, grinning so widely he looked as if his jaw was about to break. They looked slightly older than they had when I knew them, but not significantly; I assumed the wedding had taken place a year or so after my departure. They stood on the top step of the Institute, happiness evident in every line of their body, and my stomach ached dully as I studied their faces.

The next picture was slightly more focused, and depicted a young boy and girl sitting in the courtyard of the Institute. The boy was older by a fair amount, with absurdly messy dark hair and oddly golden eyes, while the girl was just a toddler, brown hair framing her chubby face and steady blue eyes. "James and Lucie," I whispered to myself, my eyes lingering on my great-grandmother, before moving on to the third picture.

It evoked the strongest emotional reaction from me, and I had to look away for a moment before I recovered myself. I knew this picture, because I had been present for it. It had been a scorching August day, and Henry had dragged every member of the Institute outside to test his newfangled camera. We had stood there for at least half an hour, smiles frozen on our faces, before the shutter had finally clicked.

Henry and Charlotte flanked the group, Charlotte wearing a patient smile and Henry looking like an excitable puppy. Next to Charlotte stood Gideon with his hand on Sophie's shoulder, while a scowling Gabriel and smirking Cecily posed beside them. Bridget and Cyril stood together, dressed in their uniforms. Tessa had her hands clasped in front of her, the clockwork angel gleaming on her neck, while Will stood almost protectively over her, glaring at the camera. Next to them was me, an awkward grin on my face and wearing a dress that had been much too hot for the weather, and Jem—Jem—was holding my hand. He was smiling gently at me rather than looking at the camera, and I remembered his bashful grin when I'd caught him staring at me. I stared at his unmarked face and silver hair for a long time, brushing my fingers over the glass, before putting the frame down and wiping my eyes. I didn't have the strength to look at him for very long.

The cottage was just large enough for a living-room, kitchen, and bedroom, but I got the feeling that Tessa liked it that way. She wouldn't want anything bigger to remind her of all the empty space she now had, and I doubted she had many houseguests here in Alicante. The thought put a strange lump in my throat.

But she was certainly talking to someone now: I could hear the rise and fall of her hushed voice, but no matter how hard I strained my ears, I couldn't decipher a reply. Either she was talking to herself or to someone who couldn't speak.

I had just enough time to step away from the photographs and pretend that I'd just gotten out of bed when the door creaked open and Tessa herself peered around at me. "Good morning, Abby," she said with a smile, albeit strained, and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, thank you." I gestured lamely at the bed and my clothes. "I'm sorry about…this."

"It's no trouble at all," Tessa told me. "You are a dear friend as well as family, Abby. I could never turn you away." She stopped before continuing, biting her lip almost worryingly. "Jem is here," she said, dropping her voice. I didn't react; I'd guessed as much. "He explained what happened at the Cartwright manor last night."

This time I did flinch, preparing myself for her accusations. She would be furious at what I had done to him—I wouldn't be surprised if she threw me out of the house. But there was only pity and concern in her eyes as she looked at me. "While I am deeply sorry for the way Irina treated you, I am confident that Abig—your grandmother will find a safe place for you. However, I do not understand why you attempted to escape from the Clave."

My lips parted slightly as I stared at Tessa in shock. Jem hadn't told her about our conversation. A mixture of gratitude and guilt swirled up inside me. "Well, it's a long story," I mumbled, staring down at the floor. "I'll explain it…later. Why did you call Zachariah?"

I could see the confusion in Tessa's eyes at my ambiguous answer and the way in which I referred to him—her younger self would never have been able to contain her curiosity, but as it was, she simply pursed her lips and answered, "He is the only person with any power over the Clave that I can trust, and you were very weak last night. I was not sure if you required medical assistance."

"I don't," I said, but it was too late: I knew Tessa would want to have me examined anyway. I couldn't stay here any longer, much less face Zachariah, and I could already tell that there was no point confiding in her about my plan: she would tell him right away. How could I possibly sneak out of the cottage unnoticed?

And then, while I scuffed my shoes and bided my time, the answer hit me, as if it had been hanging over my head the entire time. I chanced a glance at the door, but I knew that Jem wouldn't be listening to our conversation. I was utterly and completely convinced of that.

"Tessa," I said urgently, "You have to Change into me and convince him that I'm fine."

She looked alarmed at my unexpected request. "Abby, I really don't think—"

"Please." My voice came out half-choked. "Please, Tess."

"I cannot do that," she argued, and I wondered how long it had been since she'd last used her power. "He will know what I have done straight away. I cannot lie to him like that."

I stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, staring directly at her. I was sure my voice sounded half-crazed as I said, "I need to escape. You can tell him everything about this conversation the second I disappear—you have to stall him for thirty seconds. Thirty seconds is all I need."

"Where are you going?" asked Tessa. "Let us help you—"

I shook my head fiercely. "This is something I have to do on my own, Tess. Please trust me."

Tessa regarded me for a long moment, torn between her loyalty to Jem and her desire to help me. I was about to try to make a run for it anyway—and then, ever so slightly, she nodded. "Thirty seconds," she said firmly. "If you're still here, you shall have to explain it to him."

I was already handing her my purse. "Take this," I ordered. Tessa clutched it in her hands and closed her eyes, and I watched in morbid fascination as her features began to ripple and morph as the Change took hold, her brown hair smoothly melting into blond and her height diminishing several inches. Within ten seconds, I was staring at a perfect copy of myself, right down to the birthmark on my shoulder and the crease between my eyebrows.

"Go," Tessa whispered as she returned my purse. My own voice sounded strange to my own ears, and I was all too happy to leave my eerie twin as I turned my back on myself and wrenched open the window, vaulting over the sill and landing on the grass below.

Abby, I heard Jem say, and I almost answered him before I remembered Tessa. I am terribly sorry for any wrong that I have caused you—

"Jem, please do not tell me anything," Tessa said, and I knew that my time was up. I immediately took off across the lawn, and the last thing I heard her say was, "I am not Abby."

I stared numbly at the back of the faerie walking ahead of me, some dim part of my mind screaming in horror. What the hell have you done, Abby? it demanded. You walked right into the Seelie Court with almost no prior knowledge of the creatures, and now you're about to speak to their Queen, a being infinitely more powerful than you!

But it will help save Jem, I told myself, refusing to think about the consequences if it didn't. That was all that mattered.

The faerie, who had introduced himself as Meliorn, turned gracefully back to me, his long hair swishing around his shoulders. Out of nowhere, he had somehow produced a glass of sparkling wine. "May I offer you a drink, miss?" he asked in a voice laced with honey.

I shook my head at once, remembering the warnings I'd seen in the Codex. "No, thank you."

Meliorn looked disappointed. "Are you sure?" he pressed. "It cannot be found anywhere but in the Seelie Court. No drink in any realm can compete with this."

Deciding to partly appease him so he would stop pestering me, I took the glass, but unfortunately there was nowhere to discreetly dispose of its contents. Meliorn grinned slyly at me, exposing all of his sharp, pointed teeth, before continuing down the corridor. I followed him warily.

The hallway was dark and narrow, twisting and winding like the path through Alicante, and I had the sensation we were deep underground. By the time Meliorn stopped, I was feeling a bit dizzy. The door was little more than a partition of flowers and thorns, and he stepped back, ushering me in first.

The Seelie Court was smaller than I'd thought, and covered almost entirely in plants—vines fell from the ceiling, and there was an entire wall devoted to nothing but roses. Faeries darted to and fro, carrying trays of unfamiliar food. I recognized Tessa's Hyacinth in the far corner, standing next to a golden throne on which sat the Seelie Queen herself.

She was indescribably gorgeous, with pale skin, thick red hair that fell down her back, and wearing a crown of thorns. There was a bored, haughty expression on her face as she watched her subjects—at least until she saw me, and her eyes narrowed. "Come over here, Shadowhunter," she ordered, and I meekly scurried over, ignoring the faeries that offered me refreshments from their seemingly endless supply. Hyacinth's eyes landed on me, and I saw recognition in them.

"I see that Meliorn has offered you a drink," she said. "It is considered rude not to partake in such an invitation, if my knowledge of the human world remains correct."

I quickly realized that it would do me better to feign ignorance, and so I slowly raised the glass to my lips and tilted it back, stopping just as the liquid touched my skin. I pretended to swallow and smiled at the Queen, who now looked deeply amused. "It is wonderful, isn't it?" she asked. "It would have been such a waste had you not had some. Hyacinth, take the glass from her," she barked, and the blue faerie nodded, springing to life at once. As she took the glass from my hands, she murmured, "It's too late."

I fought to control my expression, but I was dumbfounded and slightly nervous as Hyacinth left. She must have been talking about my decision to venture into the Seelie Court—perhaps she had known my relation to Tessa.

"You are a new Shadowhunter," the Queen mused, crossing her legs and resting one long finger on her chin to take a better look at me; I tried not to squirm under her gaze. "Six months at the most. Am I correct?"

I could do nothing but nod.

She smiled wickedly, pleased. "They all have the same look to them, and they all have only one reason for coming to me. So what is it you desire, child? Power, I presume? Strength? Luck?"

"Love," I corrected, speaking for the first time. "I want you to change a Silent Brother back into their human form."

A murmur ran around the assembled faeries, but I didn't take my eyes off the Queen. She gave a small hiss, and for the first time I saw true interest in her eyes. "So you are Abigail Cartwright," she said after a long silence, regarding me almost hungrily. "There have been whispers concerning you for decades past. You are Brother Zachariah's human lover."

"Was," I managed to say through my dry throat. "Circumstances have changed."

"No," the Queen said with a low chuckle. "Love like that does not die. You shall be his forever, whether or not you find a substitute." She leaned forward. "It is rare that I become embroiled in the affairs of humans, but your case is an exception, and I find myself curious. Was this a mere fancy? An idle flirtation?"

"We were engaged."

"And yet you reaped the benefits of your wedding night early. Yours is not the blush of a virgin." I started, embarrassed, which only made the Queen's smile widen. "Silent Brothers are unable to participate in such acts; therefore, you knew Zachariah before he changed his form permanently."

"Permanently?" I asked; I was beyond humiliated by the entire conversation.

"The Nephilim know of no way to reverse the process, at least. But faeries cannot lie. So I will help you." The Queen's eyes bored into mine as she explained, "But to do so, I will need a drop of your blood. He will come searching for you if he finds it, will he not?"

I knew he would, but I still hesitated, thinking of the Codex's warnings…The Queen, sensing my reservations, added, "If you want to feel his body against yours in the way that you once did, if you want to look in his eyes and know that a human is looking back at you, if you want to be with him in the way you long for, then you know what your next action should be. The choice is entirely yours. Of course, it is possible he will become human again long after you have left this earth. Who will he spend his life with then? I have seen the way he looks at the brown-haired warlock. She who is immortal will not leave him like you."

It was dark magic. It was everything that I shouldn't do. But my desperation, mixed with frustration at the Queen's goading, was stronger, and I held out my hand. "Do whatever you have to," I said, and now she was positively purring.

"Meliorn!" the Queen called, and snapped her fingers. Suddenly she was no longer sitting on a gold throne, but one carved out of bones, twisted into grotesque shapes. I took a step back, but Meliorn was already there: he jabbed something sharp into my finger and drew out a needle glistening with blood.

"You are naïve, little girl," she jeered; her chuckle had turned into a cackle. "You did not drink the wine, but it still passed through your lips. Faeries cannot lie, and I will help you in the way I wish to."

I had been deceived. Hyacinth had told me that I was too late, because I'd already had the wine. Horror shot through my veins as I whirled around at the sound of a deep snarl echoing through the chamber. The rest of the faeries save for the Queen and Meliorn had vanished, replaced by an enormous, hulking beast with five pairs of red eyes and tentacles slithering towards me.

The Greater Demon.

My stomach rolled, and my legs gave out from under me. I stumbled backward onto the steps leading up to the throne of bones. The Queen seemed to enjoy my terror as she watched me struggling to stand up. "I was going to tell you that we would summon a demon to cure him, but the idea of false hope that he would rescue you is somehow more poignant, would you not agree?"

I didn't answer her. I had been so idiotic that I hadn't seen the trap laid out in front of me. She was right: I was naïve and foolish, thinking I could barter with faeries. I deserved every bit of what I was about to get.

And then I saw the one thing that could make my blood run colder than it already had: a spindly, poorly-built automaton wearing Victorian clothes staggered into the room, a drop of my blood gleaming where its eye should be. I was frozen in place as two more of them followed in its place, and then two more, and two more after that…

"You are under the Greater Demon's control now, Abigail Cartwright," the Queen declared, watching automaton after automaton march into the court. "But we shall not leave you to its mercy just yet. We have plans for you. The automatons that you and your friends so valiantly fought in London have been reanimated with your blood—you are the only Shadowhunter foolish enough to have come down here begging for a favor. In a way, I suppose, they will be yours."

I tore my gaze away from the demon to stare at her, unable to move. I was no longer in control of my own body.

"You shall be the clockwork queen."