“No,” said Raphael. He had been so quiet, Emma had almost forgotten he was there. “Tessa—”

Tessa Gray burst into flame. It was not as if she had caught fire, not really; in between one moment and the next, she became fire, became a glowing pillar of conflagration. The burning light was white and gold: It cut through the mist, illuminating the world.

Raphael fell back, an arm across his face to shield himself from the light. In the brilliance, Emma could see sharp details: the cut across Livvy’s face where Julian’s blade had grazed her, the tears in Diana’s eyes, the rage on Sebastian’s face as he stared at the shut doors, the fear of the Endarkened as they cringed away from the light.

“Cowards! The light cannot hurt you!” Sebastian shouted. “Fight on!”

“We have to get back to the Bradbury,” Livia said desperately. “We have to get out of here.”

“Livvy,” Julian said. “We can’t lead them back to your headquarters. We have to deal with them now.”

“And there’s only one way to do that,” Emma said. She tightened her grip on the Mortal Sword and started toward Sebastian.

She was burning with a new fury, filling her, sustaining her. Cameron. Tessa. She thought of Livvy, having lost someone else she loved. And she launched herself at Sebastian, the Mortal Sword curving through the air like a whip made of fire and gold.

Sebastian growled. Phaesphoros leaped into his hand, and he strode toward Emma. Fury seemed to dance around him like sparks. “You think to strike me down with the Mortal Sword,” he said. “Isabelle Lightwood tried that, and now she molders in a grave in Idris.”

“What if I cut your head off?” Emma taunted. “Do you keep on being the dickweed ruler of this planet in two different pieces?”

Sebastian spun, the Morgenstern sword a black-and-silver blur. Emma leaped, the sword slashing under her feet. She landed on a toppled fire hydrant. “Go ahead and try,” Sebastian said in a bored voice. “Others have; I cannot be killed. I will tire you out, girl, and cut you into puzzle pieces to amuse the demons.”

The clash of battle was all around them. Tessa’s fire was dimming, and in the clamor of the mist, Emma could just see Julian, battling Jace. Julian had taken one of the Endarkened’s swords and was fighting defensively, as Diana had taught them when their opponent was stronger than they were.

Livvy was fighting Endarkened with a new anger and energy. So was Raphael. As Emma flicked her glance toward the others, she saw Raphael seize a red-haired Endarkened woman and tear her throat out with his teeth.

And then she saw it: a glow in the distance. A whirling, spinning illumination she knew well: the light of a Portal.

Emma leaped down off the fire hydrant and pressed her attack; Sebastian actually fell back for a moment in surprise before he recovered and struck back even harder. The blade hummed in Emma’s hand as her heart beat out two words: distract him, distract him.

Phaesphorus slammed against Maellartach. Sebastian bared his teeth in a grin that was nothing like a real grin. Emma wondered if he’d once been able to fake a human smile and forgotten how. She thought of the way Clary spoke of him, of someone who had been lost long before he died.

A sharp pain cut through her. Sebastian’s sword had scored the front of her left thigh; blood stained the rip in her canvas pants. He grinned again and kicked her wound, violently; the pain whited out her vision and she felt herself tilt. She hit the ground with a crack that she was fairly sure was her collarbone snapping.

“You begin to bore me,” Sebastian said, prowling above her like a cat. Her vision was blurry with pain, but she could see the Portal light growing stronger. The air seemed to shimmer. In the distance, she could still hear the other Emma sobbing.

“Other worlds,” he mused. “Why should I care about some other world when I rule this one? What should some other world mean to me?”

“Do you want to know how you died there?” Emma said. The pain of her broken bone seared through her. She could hear battle all around her, hear Julian and Jace fighting. She fought to keep from fainting. The longer she distracted Sebastian, the better.

“You want to live forever in this world,” she said. “Don’t you want to know how you died in our world? Maybe it could happen here, too. Ash wouldn’t know about it. Neither would Annabel. But I do.”

He lowered Phaesphoros and let the tip of it nick her collarbone. Emma almost screamed from the pain. “Tell me.”

“Clary killed you,” Emma said, and saw his eyes fly wide open. “With heavenly fire. It burned out everything that was evil in you, and there wasn’t enough left to live for long. But you died in your mother’s arms, and your sister cried over you. In the club yesterday you talked about the weight on you, crushing you. In our world, your last words were ‘I’ve never felt so light.’??”

His face twisted. For a moment there was fear there, in his eyes, and more than fear—regret, perhaps, even pain.

“You lie,” he hissed, sliding the tip of his sword down to her sternum, where a stabbing blow would sever her abdominal aorta. She would bleed out in agony. “Tell me it isn’t the truth. Tell me!”

His hand tightened on the blade.

There was a blur behind him, a flurry of wings, and something struck him hard, a blow to the shoulder that made him stagger sideways. Emma saw Sebastian whirl around, a look of fury on his face. “Ash! What are you doing?”

Emma’s mouth dropped open in surprise. It was Ash—and from his back extended a pair of wings. For Emma, who had been raised all her life on images of Raziel, it was like a blow: She pushed herself up on her elbows, staring.

They were angel’s wings, and yet they weren’t. They were black, tipped with silver; they shimmered like the night sky. She guessed they were wider than the span of his outstretched arms.

They were beautiful, the most beautiful thing she had seen in Thule.

“No,” Ash said calmly, looking at his father, and plucked the sword from Sebastian’s hand. He stepped back, and Emma rolled to her feet, her collarbone screaming in pain, and thrust the Mortal Sword into Sebastian’s chest.

She yanked it free, feeling the blade scrape against the bone of his rib cage, prepared to thrust again, to cut him to pieces—

As she drew the sword back, he shuddered. He hadn’t made a sound when she stabbed him; now his mouth opened, and black blood cascaded over his lower lip and chin as his eyes rolled back. Emma could hear the Endarkened screaming. His skin began to split and burn.

He threw his head back in a silent scream and burst apart into ashes, the way demons vanished in Emma’s world.

The screaming of Thule Emma cut off abruptly. She sprawled lifeless over her Julian’s body. One by one, the other Endarkened began to fall, crumpling at the feet of the rebels they were fighting.

Jace gave a cry and fell to his knees. Behind him Emma could see the illumination of the Portal, open now and blazing with blue light.

“Jace,” she whispered, and moved to go toward him.

Ash stepped in front of her.

“I wouldn’t,” he said. He spoke in that same eerily calm voice in which he had said to his father, No. “He’s been under Sebastian’s control too long. He isn’t what you think. He can’t go back.”

She swung her sword up to point at Ash, close to nausea from the pain of her broken collarbone. Ash looked back at her, unflinching.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded. “Betray Sebastian. Why?”

“He was going to kill me,” Ash said. He had a low voice, slightly husky, not the boy’s voice he’d had in the Unseelie Court. “Besides, I liked your speech about Clary. It was interesting.”

Julian had turned away from Jace, who still knelt on the ground, staring down at the sword in his hands. Julian moved toward Emma as Livvy stared; she was slashed with wounds but still standing, and her rebels were approaching to circle around her. They wore expressions of shock and disbelief.

A scream cut through the eerie silence of dead Endarkened and stunned warriors. A scream that Emma knew well.

“Don’t hurt him!” Annabel cried. She raced toward Ash, her hands outstretched. She wore her red gown, and her feet were bare as she ran.

She seized hold of Ash’s arm and began to drag him toward the Portal.

Emma broke from her frozen state and began to run toward Julian as he moved to stand in front of the Portal. His sword flashed out as he raised it, just as Ash pulled hard against Annabel’s grip. He was shouting at her that he didn’t want to go, not without Jace.

Annabel was strong; Emma knew how strong. But it appeared that Ash was stronger. He yanked free of her grip and began to run toward Jace.

The light of the Portal had begun to dim. Was Annabel closing it, or was it dying on its own, naturally? Either way, Emma’s heart kicked into high gear, slamming against her rib cage. She leaped over the body of an Endarkened and came down on the other side just as Annabel whirled on her.