Clockwork Princess

to.”
    And with that, he was gone, in a swirl of dark robes and dully sparking runes. No sooner had the door closed behind him than Will hissed: “How could you give him those papers? We need those—”
    Charlotte, who had sagged back in her chair, her eyes half-closed, said, “Will, I have already been up all night copying down the relevant parts. Much of it was—”
    “Gibberish?” Jem suggested.
    “Pornographic?” said Will at the same time.
    “Could be both,” said Will. “Haven’t you ever heard of pornographic gibberish before?”
    Jem grinned, and Charlotte put her face in her hands. “It was more the former than the latter, if you must know,” she said. “I copied down all I could, with Sophie’s invaluable assistance.” She looked up then. “Will—you need to remember. This is no longer our charge. Mortmain is the Clave’s problem, or at least that is how they see it. There was a time when we were singularly responsible for Mortmain, but—”
    “We are responsible for protecting Tessa!” Will said with a sharpness that startled even Tessa. Will paled slightly when he realized everyone had looked at him with surprise, but he went on anyway: “Mortmain wants Tessa, still. We cannot imagine he has given up. He may come with automatons, he may come with witchcraft and fire and betrayal, but
he will come
.”
    “Of course we will protect her,” Charlotte said. “We need no reminders, Will. She is one of our own. And speaking of our own …” She glanced down at her plate. “Jessamine returns to us tomorrow.”
    “What?” Will upset his teacup, soaking the tablecloth with the dregs. There was a buzz around the table, though Cecily only stared in puzzlement, and Tessa, after a sharp intake of breath, stayed silent. She was remembering the last time she had seen Jessamine, in the Silent City, pale and red-eyed, weeping and terrified…. “She tried to betray us, Charlotte. And you are simply allowing her back?”
    “She has no other family, her wealth has been confiscated by the Clave, and she is besides in no fit state to live on her own. Two months of questioning in the Bone City has left her nearly mad. I do not think she will be a danger to any of us.”
    “Neither did we think she would be a danger before,” said Jem, in a harder voice than Tessa would have expected of him, “and yet the course of action she took nearly placed Tessa in Mortmain’s hands, and the rest of us in disgrace.”
    Charlotte shook her head. “There is a need here for mercy and pity. Jessamine is not what she once was—as any of you would know if you had visited her in the Silent City.”
    “I have no wish to visit with traitors,” said Will coldly. “Was she still gibbering about Mortmain being in Idris?”
    “Yes—that is why the Silent Brothers finally gave up; they could get no sense out of her. She has no secrets, nothing of worth that she knows. And she understands that. She
feels
worthless. If you could but put yourself in her shoes—”
    “Oh, I don’t doubt she’s putting on a show for you, Charlotte, weeping and rending her garments—”
    “Well, if she’s rending her
garments
,” said Jem, with a flick of a smile toward his
parabatai
. “You know how much Jessamine likes her garments.”
    Will’s smile back was grudging but real. Charlotte saw her opening and pressed the advantage. “You will not even know her when you see her, I promise you that,” she said. “Give it a week, a week only, and if none of you can bear to have her here, I will arrange for her transport to Idris.” She pushed her plate away. “And now to go through my copies of Benedict’s papers. Who will assist me?”
    To: Consul Josiah Wayland
From: The Council
    Dear Sir
,
    Until our receipt of your last letter, we had thought our difference in thought on the topic of Charlotte Branwell to be a matter of simple opinion. Though you may not have given express permission for the removal of Jessamine Lovelace to the Institute, the approval was granted by the Brotherhood, who are in charge of such things. It seemed to us the action of a generous heart to allow the girl back into the only home she has known, despite her wrongdoing. As for Woolsey Scott, he leads the Praetor Lupus, an organization we have long considered allies
.
    Your suggestion that Mrs. Branwell may have given her ear to those who do not have the Clave’s best interests at heart is deeply troubling. Without proof, however, we are