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They walked down a narrow passage with smooth marble walls, and descended a staircase made of stone. There were no rails, so he and Clary put their hands on either wall to keep from falling. Brother Shadrach, in his long robe, had no such fear of falling. He seemed to glide down. From there, they were in a larger space, which Simon at first thought was made of stones. After a moment he saw that the walls were mosaicked with bones--some chalky white, some gray, some ashy, and some a disturbing brownish color. Long bones formed arches and columns, and skulls, top side out, formed most of the walls. They were finally left in a room where the bone art was really ambitious--great circling patterns of skulls and bones gave the room shape. Above, smaller bones formed more delicate structures, such as chandeliers, which glowed with witchlights. It was like being shown the end of the world's worst home-decorating show.
You will wait here.
Brother Shadrach exited the chamber, and Simon and Clary were left alone. One thing about the Silent City: It really lived up to its name. Simon had never been anywhere so utterly devoid of sound. Simon worried that if he spoke, the walls of bones would come down on his head and bury them both. They probably wouldn't--that would be a major design flaw--but the sensation was strong.
After several moments the door opened again and Julian appeared alone. Julian Blackthorn may only have been fourteen, but he seemed older, even older than Simon. He had grown quite a bit, and now Simon could look him eye to eye. He had his family's characteristic thick, curling dark-brown hair, and his face had a look of quiet seriousness. It was a seriousness that reminded Simon of the way his mother had looked when his father died, and she'd spent nights awake worrying about how to pay the mortgage and feed her children, how to raise them all by herself. No one wore this kind of expression by choice. The only sign that Julian wasn't an adult was the way his dress gear fit a bit loose, and the way he was just a bit gangly.
"Julian!" Clary said, looking as if she was considering hugging him and then discarding the idea. He seemed too dignified to be squeezed. "Where's Emma?"
"Talking to Brother Zachariah," Julian said. "I mean Jem. She's talking to Jem."
Julian seemed deeply puzzled about this, but also didn't look to be in the mood to be questioned further.
"So," Clary said, "how do you feel?"
Julian simply nodded and looked around.
He hesitated. "I just want to . . . do it. I want to get it done."
This seemed like a slightly odd response. Now that Simon was thinking about his own ceremony with Clary, the prospect seemed amazing. Something to be looked forward to. But Julian had been through a lot. He'd lost his parents, his older brother and sister. It was probably hard to go through something this major without them there.
It was hard to look at Julian and not remember that he had seen Julian's brother Mark not that long ago--Mark, imprisoned and half-mad. That he had decided not to share this fact with Julian, because it would have been unbelievably cruel to do so. Simon still believed his decision had been the right one, but that didn't mean it didn't weigh like a stone in his soul.
"How's L.A.?" he said, and immediately regretted it. How's L.A.? How's that place you live in where you saw your father murdered and your brother taken hostage forever by faeries? How's that?
Julian's mouth curled up at the corner. As if he sensed that Simon was feeling uncomfortable, and he felt sympathetic, but also thought it was funny.
Simon was used to that.
"Hot," Julian said.
Which was fair enough.
"How's your family?" Clary asked.
Julian's face lit up, his eyes glowing like the surface of water. "Everyone is good. Ty's really into detective stuff, Dru's into horror--watching all sorts of mundane movies she's not supposed to. But then she scares herself and has to sleep with the witchlight on. Livvy's gotten really good with the sabre, and Tavvy--"
He broke off as Jem and Emma came down the stairs. Emma's step seemed lighter. There was something about Emma that made Simon think of eternal summers on a beach--her sunbleached hair, her graceful way of moving, her winter tan. Along the inside of one of her arms was a vicious long scar.
She looked at once to Julian, who nodded before starting to pace around the room. Emma immediately wrapped Simon in a hug. Her arms, though smaller than his, wound around him like steel cables. She smelled like sea spray.
"Thank you for being here," she said. "I wanted to write to you but they . . ." She looked at Jem for a moment. "They said they would tell you. Thank you, both of you."
Julian ran his hand along the smooth marble wall. He seemed to have trouble looking over at Emma. Emma went to him, and Jem followed, speaking to them both for a moment. Clary and Simon stood back and watched them. Something about the way Emma and Julian were acting wasn't quite what Simon expected. Sure, they would be nervous but . . .
No, it was something else.
Clary tugged on Simon's sleeve, indicating that he should lean down so she could whisper to him.
"They look so"--Clary broke off her sentence and cocked her head slightly to the side--"young."
There was a hint in her voice that this was not a completely satisfactory statement. Something about this was off. But Simon had no time to figure out what. Jem, Emma, and Julian joined them again.
"I will accompany you into the chamber," Jem said. "Clary will walk with Emma. Simon will walk with Julian. Do you feel ready to continue?"
Both Emma and Julian visibly swallowed hard and got very wide-eyed, but both managed to say yes.
"Then we will proceed. Please follow me."
More corridors, but the bone gave way to more white marble, and then marble that had the appearance of gold. They arrived at a great set of doors, which were opened by Brother Shadrach. The room they led to was the largest yet, with a towering, domed ceiling. There were marbles of all colors--white, black, pink, gold, silver. Every surface was utterly smooth. The room was occupied by a ring of Silent Brothers, maybe twenty in all, who parted to allow them in. The light in the room was dim and came from golden sconces and flickering candlelight. The air was thick with incense.
"Simon Lewis and Julian Blackthorn." Jem's voice resonated--for a moment Simon almost thought he heard it inside his mind, the way he had once heard Brother Zachariah's. It still held a depth to it that seemed richer than human. "Cross to the other side of the circle, where they have made a space for you. When you get there, remain there. You will be told what to do."
Simon looked to Julian, who had turned the color of copier paper. Despite looking like he might faint, Julian walked firmly across the room, and Simon followed. Clary and Emma took their places on the opposite side. Jem joined the circle of Silent Brothers, who all stepped back as one, widening the circle. Now the four of them were at the center.
Suddenly, two rings of white and gold fire appeared out of the floor, the flames rising just a few inches, but burning bright and hot.
Emma Carstairs. Step forward.
The voices rang in Simon's head--it was all of the Brothers speaking as one. Emma looked to Clary, then took a single step into one of the rings. She fixed her eyes on Julian and smiled widely.
Julian Blackthorn. Step forward.
Julian stepped into the other ring. His step was quicker, but he kept his head down.
Witnesses, you will stand on the wings of the angel.
This took Simon a moment to work out. He finally saw that at the top of the circle, carved roughly into the floor, was another figure of
an angel with outstretched wings. He took his place on one, and Clary the other. This brought him a little closer to the ring of fire. He felt the heat of it creep pleasantly over his cold feet. From this vantage point, he could see Emma and Julian's expressions.
What was he seeing? It was something he knew.
We begin the Fiery Trial. Emma Carstairs, Julian Blackthorn, enter the center ring. In this ring, you will be bound.
A central ring appeared, joining the two. A Venn diagram of fire. As soon as Emma and Julian were in it, the center ring burned higher, reaching waist height.
Something flickered between Julian and Emma at that moment. It was so quick that Simon couldn't tell which direction it had come from, but he'd seen it out of the corner of one of his eyes. Some look, something about the way one of them stood, something--but it was a look or a stance or something that he had seen before.
The fire flashed higher. It was up to their shoulders now.
You will now recite the oath.
Emma and Julian began speaking as one, their voices both with a small tremble as they recited the ancient Biblical words.
"Whither thou goest, I will go . . ."
*
Simon was hit with a bolt of anxiety. What had he just seen? Why was it so familiar? Why did it put him on edge? He studied Emma and Julian again, as best as he could over the fire. They looked like two nervous kids about to do something very serious, while standing in a flaming circle.
There it was again. So quick. The direction was obscured by the flickering at the top of the ring. What the hell was it? Maybe this was precisely what witnesses were supposed to do. Maybe they were supposed to watch for this kind of thing. No. Jem said it was a formality. A formality. Maybe he should have asked this question before standing next to the giant ring of fire.
"Where thou diest, I will die, and there will I be buried . . ."
Shadowhunter rituals, always cheery.
"The Angel do so to me, and more also . . ."
Julian tripped on the words "do so to me." He cleared his throat and finished the statement a second after Emma.
Something clicked in Simon's mind. He remembered Jace, suddenly, in his hallucination, saying something about the first time they'd met. And then the memory flashed across his mind like one of those banners trailing off the back of the little planes that flew above the beach off Long Island . . .
