Clockwork Princess

her of something—of sparks rising above the smoke—
    “Bridget,” she said. “Get Magnus.”
    Bridget shook her head. “If I leave you, you will be dead in five minutes,” she said. As if to illustrate her point, she brought her blade down on a charging automaton as if she were splitting kindling. The creature fell to both slides, sliced down the middle in two equal parts.
    “You don’t understand,” Cecily said. “We need Magnus—”
    “I’m here.” And he was, appearing above Cecily so suddenly and soundlessly that she stifled a scream. There was a long cut along his collar, shallow but bloody. Warlocks bled as red as humans did, it seemed. His gaze fell on Henry, and a terrible, fathomless sadness crossed his face. It was the look of a man who had seen hundreds die, who had lost and lost and lost and was facing loss once more. “God,” he said. “He was a good man.”
    “No,” Charlotte said. “I am telling you, I felt his pulse—do not speak of him as if he is gone already—”
    Magnus dropped to his knees and reached a hand out to touch Henry’s eyelids. Cecily wondered if he planned to say “
ave atque vale
,” the requisite farewell for Shadowhunters, but instead he jerked his hand back, his eyes narrowing. A moment later his fingers were against Henry’s throat. He muttered something in a language Cecily didn’t understand, then slid closer, his hand rising to cup Henry’s jaw. “Slow,” he said, half to himself, “slow, but his heart
is
beating.”
    Charlotte took a ragged breath. “I told you.”
    Magnus’s eyes flicked up to her. “You did. I’m sorry for not listening.” His gaze dropped back down to Henry. “Now be quiet, everyone.” He raised the hand that was not pressed to Henry’s throat, and snapped his fingers. Instantly the air around them seemed to thicken and warp like old glass. A solid dome had appeared over them, trapping Henry, Charlotte, Cecily, and Magnus in a shimmering bubble of silence. Through it Cecily could still see the room around them, the battling automatons, Bridget laying waste right and left with her black-smeared blade. Inside, all was quiet.
    She looked quickly at Magnus. “You’ve made a protective wall.”
    “Yes.” His attention was on Henry. “Very good.”
    “Couldn’t you just make one around all of us and keep it that way? Keep us all protected?”
    Magnus shook his head. “Magic takes energy, little one. I could hold such a protection together for only a short time, and when it fell apart,
they
would fall upon us.” He leaned forward, murmuring something, and a spark of blue leaped from his fingertips to Henry’s skin. The pale blue fire seemed to burrow in, striking a sort of fire through Henry’s veins, for as if Magnus had touched a match to one end of a line of gunpowder, trails of fire burned up his arms, tracing his neck and face. Charlotte, holding him, gasped as his body spasmed, his head jerking forward.
    Henry’s eyes flew open. They were tinted with the same blue fire that burned through his veins. “I—” His voice was rough. “What happened?”
    Charlotte burst into tears. “Henry! Oh, my darling Henry.” She clutched at him and kissed him frantically, and he threaded his fingers into her hair and held her there, and both Magnus and Cecily looked away.
    When at last Charlotte let Henry go, still stroking his hair and murmuring, he struggled to sit up, and slumped back down. His eyes met Magnus’s. Magnus looked down and away, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion and something else. Something that made Cecily’s heart tighten.
    “Henry,” Charlotte said, sounding a little frightened, “is the pain bad? Can you stand?”
    “There’s little pain,” Henry said. “But I cannot stand. I cannot feel my legs at all.”
    Magnus was still staring at the floor. “I am sorry,” he said. “There are some things magic cannot do, some injuries it cannot touch.”
    The look on Charlotte’s face was awful to see.
“Henry—”
    “I can still make a Portal,” Henry interrupted. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth; he wiped it away with his sleeve. “We can escape this place. We must retreat.” He tried to turn, to look about him, and winced, whitening. “What is happening?”
    “We are far outnumbered,” said Cecily. “Everyone is fighting for their lives—”
    “For their lives, but not to win?” Henry asked.
    Magnus shook his head. “We cannot win. There is no hope. There are