“He wouldn’t have done that willingly,” said Julian. “He loved her.”

“People can betray even those they love,” said Mark.

“No, Julian’s right,” said Emma. “I hate Malcolm more than anyone, but he absolutely would never have left Annabel. She was his whole life.”

“It’s still what happened,” said Ty.

“They tortured Annabel for information until she pretty much lost her mind,” said Livvy. “Then they released her to her family. And they killed her and told everyone she’d become an Iron Sister. But it wasn’t true.”

There was a tightness in Julian’s throat. He thought of Annabel’s drawings, the lightness in them, the hope, the love for Blackthorn Manor in Idris and for Malcolm.

“Fast-forward almost a hundred years,” said Emma. “Malcolm goes to the Unseelie King. He’s found out that Annabel wasn’t an Iron Sister, that she was murdered. He’s out for bloody vengeance.” She paused, combing her fingers back through her hair, still tangled from Cornish wind and rain. “The Unseelie King tells him how to raise Annabel, but there’s a catch—Malcolm needs the Black Volume to do it, and now he doesn’t have it. It’s in the Cornwall Institute. He broke in there once, he doesn’t dare do it again. So there it stays until the Blackthorns who run the Institute move to Los Angeles, and they take it with them.”

Ty’s eyes lit up. “Right. And Malcolm sees his chance when Sebastian Morgenstern attacks, and takes the book. He starts to raise Annabel, and finally he succeeds.”

“Except she’s pissed off and kills him,” said Emma.

“How ungrateful,” said Kieran.

“Ungrateful?” Emma said. “He was a murderer. She was right to kill him.”

“He may have been a murderer,” said Kieran, “but it sounds as if he became one for her. He killed to give her life.”

“Maybe she didn’t want life,” said Alec. He shrugged. “He never did ask her what she wanted, did he?”

As if sensing the tense atmosphere at the table, Max began to wail. With a sigh, Alec picked him up and carried him out of the room.

“I’m sure it’s useful to know all this,” said Magnus. “But does it bring us closer to the Black Volume?”

“Maybe if we had more time, and the Riders weren’t after us,” said Julian.

“I think,” said Kieran slowly, his gaze unfocused, “that it was my father.”

Apparently it was his day for startling pronouncements. Everyone stared at him again. To Julian’s surprise, it was Cristina who spoke.

“What do you mean, it was your father?”

“I think he was the one who wanted the book all those years ago, when Malcolm first stole it,” said Kieran. “He is the thread that ties all this together. He wanted the book then and he wants it now.”

“But why do you think he wanted it then?” Julian said. He kept his voice low and gentle. What Emma thought of as his leading-the-witness voice.

“Because of something Adaon said.” Kieran was looking down at his hands. “He said my father had wanted the book since the First Heir was stolen. It is an old story in Faerie, the theft of my father’s first child. It happened more than two hundred years ago.”

Cristina looked stunned. “I didn’t realize that’s what he meant.”

“The First Heir.” Magnus’s eyes looked unfocused. “I have heard that tale, or heard of it. The child was not just stolen, but murdered.”

“So the story goes,” said Kieran. “Perhaps my father wished to use necromancy to raise the child. I could not speak of his motives. But he could have offered Fade and Annabel protection in the Unseelie Lands. No Shadowhunter could touch them if they were safe in Faerie.”

Emma set her fork down with a clang. “Pretentious hair prince is right.”

Kieran blinked. “What did you call me?”

“I’m trying it out,” Emma said, with a wave. “And I said you were right. Enjoy it, because I doubt I’ll say it again.”

Magnus nodded. “The King is one of the few beings on this earth who could have kidnapped Malcolm from the prisons of the Silent City. He must not have wanted him to reveal their connection to the Council.”

“But why didn’t he take Annabel, too?” Livvy asked, a forkful of pie halfway to her mouth.

“Maybe because Malcolm had disappointed him by getting caught,” said Mark. “Maybe he wanted to punish them both.”

“But Annabel could have told on them,” said Livvy. “She could have said Malcolm was working for the King.”

“Not if she didn’t know,” said Emma. “There was nothing in the diaries Malcolm kept that mentioned who he was stealing the book for, and I bet he didn’t tell Annabel, either.”

“They tortured her,” said Ty, “and she still couldn’t say who it was, just that she had no idea. It must have been the truth.”

“That explains why when he found out Annabel wasn’t an Iron Sister, that he’d been lied to, Malcolm went to the Unseelie King,” said Julian. “Because he knew him.”

“So once the King wanted the book for necromancy,” Cristina said. “Now he wants it so he can destroy Shadowhunters?”

“Not all necromancy is raising the dead.” Magnus was gazing at the glass of wine by his plate as if there was some kind of secret hidden in its depth. “One moment,” he said, and scooped up Rafe from the chair beside him. He turned to Tavvy. “Would you like to come with us? And play with Alexander and Max?”

After a glance at Julian, Tavvy nodded. The group of them left the room, Magnus gesturing that he would be right back.

“This is just one meeting,” said Emma. “First we need to get the Council to believe that the Unseelie Court is an immediate threat. Right now they can’t tell good faeries from bad and aren’t interesting in trying.”

“Which is where Kieran’s testimony comes in,” said Mark. “And there is some evidence—there’s the blight Diana said she saw in Brocelind Forest, and the report from the Shadowhunters who said they fought a band of faeries but their weapons malfunctioned.”

“It’s not a lot to go on,” said Livvy. “Especially considering Zara and her nasty little band of bigots. They are going to try to seize power at this meeting. They’re going to try to grab the Institute. They couldn’t care less about some vague faerie threat.”

“I can make the Clave fear my father,” said Kieran. “But it may take all of us to make them understand that if they do not wish for a new era of darkness, they must abandon their dreams of extending the Cold Peace.”

“No registering warlocks,” said Ty. “No putting werewolves into camps.”

“The Downworlders who have seats on the Council all know about the Cohort,” said Magnus, returning without the children. “If it actually comes down to a vote about who heads the Los Angeles Institute, they’ll have to bring in Maia and Lily, as well as me. We’re entitled to vote.” He threw himself down in the chair at the head of the table.

“That’s still just three votes, even if you vote against the Cohort,” said Julian.