CHAPTER FIVE
"Ugh. Terrible."
It was all Jonah Goldwalker could do to not spit out the thin, bitter, lukewarm coffee that he had found in the coffee maker three minutes prior to tasting it. Benjamin probably made it, he figured. Well, it was caffeine, and Jonah didn't want to walk down to Taki's, even though it would only take a few minutes. He lifted the cup to his lips again, holding his breath to prevent himself from retching.
Jonah managed another gulp, then set the mug down with a clatter. His eyes drifted to the clock on the stove. 4:14, the digital numerals reported. A frown twitched on Jonah's mouth. It was fifteen minutes till Magnus Bane was supposed to open the Portal, and Nora, Benjamin, and Bailey still hadn't come back... Jonah's frown deepened as he stepped outside of the kitchen, walking down the smooth, empty hallway to the library.
The dusky smell of books was thick in the air, and three suitcases sat innocently by the door. Jonah's eyebrows pulled together, nearly touching each other. Why aren't they here? he wondered silently.
Maybe they were already outside... Jonah stepped over to the window, pushing back the curtains. Golden late-afternoon sunlight filtered in through the dusty glass. Jonah hooked his fingertips under the window, pushing it open with a grunt of effort, and leaned his head out to examine.
The yard surrounding the Institute was bare.
Something fluttered at the edge of Jonah's vision, catching his eye. He turned to see a perfect maple leaf, the exact shade of red and gold that it should be in this time of year, lovely and trapped at the edge of the window. Jonah carefully pried it free. The wind whipped at his hair, throwing it back over his face- he pushed it out of his eyes and examined the leaf.
There was thin, black writing scrawled on one side. Jonah narrowed his eyes, reading the slanted script.
TO JONAH GOLDWALKER- The Seelie Queen has requested an audience with you. Be there at five o'clock, your time. Do not be late. Come promptly.
It was a faerie message.
A smile crawled over Jonah's lips, insane and wild. "Finally," he whispered. "I thought that the day would never come."
Bailey stood in the brutally icy air of Idris, shivering inside of her thin jacket. Her cold hands felt for her sleeves and she zipped her jacket up tighter, huddling down into the collar. The wind whipped at her hair, making it stick to her chapped lips. She pulled it free with her numb hands and leaned against Amatis's house.
She had told the others inside that she had just wanted to come out to get a view of Idris, but it was more than that. It was the want to clear her head- her temples had been aching ever since she had been to the Silent City, and a feeling of... wrongness prickled in her stomach. Bailey swallowed the feeling down, but it pricked at her with sharp claws, making her stomach churn.
"Hello." The door of Amatis's house pulled open, and Clarissa Fray stepped out. Her dark red hair was drawn back in a smooth ponytail, and her eyes looked too big in her pale face. She managed a tight smile in Bailey's direction.
"Did you come out here to enjoy the views of Idris as well?" Bailey said dryly.
Clary slid her hands into the pockets of her jeans- the wind nipped at her hands, making them chapped and red. "In a way." She let out a sigh that instantly froze on the cold air. "I'm glad to see an Idris that isn't war-torn." Her green eyes looked faraway and distant. "The last time I was here, we were in the middle of war with Sebastian..." She turned to look at Bailey and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I'm probably boring you with all of this talk." She sighed again. "Everything's been so crazy... with all of the Nephilim-being-killed stuff, I mean."
"I know." Bailey's shoulders scraped against the rough wall.
"I guess that I didn't come out here to enjoy the view... I came out here to clear my head." Clary look sideways at Bailey. "Is that what you came out for, too?"
"Yes." No beating around the bush, Bailey thought. Just straight-up and simple. I'm thinking about my parents, she said to herself. I'm thinking about them and how they were killed by a faerie, and is this possibly related? Can it be? And... a chill ran down her spine. Will I be killed, too, because my family is associated with a faerie in some way?
"It's okay," Clary said softly, so softly it was almost not audible on the wild wind.
"No, it's not," Bailey snapped. To her horror, hot tears pricked at her eyelids- she blinked forcefully, pushing them back down. "It's not. It won't be okay until all of this is solved." She wasn't leaning against the wall anymore- she was facing Clary, and rage was bubbling up in her chest, breaking free, magnified by the stress and tension in her gut. "Do you know what I went through? I thought that this would all be over, but know, faeries are still slaughtering stuff." Her voice had raised- Bailey couldn't control it. It was almost like watching herself and not being herself.
Clary looked agonized. "Bailey-" she tried.
"No." Bailey cut her off. "Who knows? I might be killed next, and I don't think that the Clave will try to stop it."
Hurt flashed in Clary's face. "Bailey, that's not true-"
"I'm sorry, Clary, but you don't know that." Bailey's rage was peaking. "You don't know that."
And she walked away without looking back.