“To me?” Cordelia was astonished. “What about?”
“A private matter. Come with me,” Hypatia said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “Round Tom can look after the salon while we’re gone.”
With no idea who Round Tom might be, Cordelia followed Hypatia from the room, trying not to trip on her silver train as it slipped and slid over the false snow.
Hypatia led Cordelia through an arched door and into a small, circular room, in which two plush chairs faced each other across a table inlaid with a chessboard. A rosewood box for the chess pieces had been set to the side, and a tall bookshelf, which oddly held no books, rested against the far wall.
Hypatia sat down and motioned for Cordelia to be seated across the table. Cordelia hoped very much that Hypatia did not want to play a game of chess. Chess was something Cordelia associated with James: with cozy domestic evenings at Curzon Street, where they sat together on the sofa in the light of the fire.…
“Stop daydreaming, girl,” said Hypatia. “Good gracious, you’d think you’d have heard me. I said, ‘So, you’ve become a paladin?’？”
Cordelia sat down hard enough to jounce her spine. Oh, Raziel. She’d been a fool, hadn’t she? “The Cabaret de l’Enfer,” she said. “They told you, didn’t they?”
Hypatia nodded, the pearl in her headdress gleaming. “Indeed. There is quite a gossip network among Downworlders, as you should well know.” She gave Cordelia an appraising look. “Does Magnus know of this paladin business?”
“He does not. And I would ask you not to tell him, but I know you may, regardless. Still. I am asking.”
Hypatia did not respond to Cordelia’s request. Instead, she said: “There have been Shadowhunter paladins before, of course, but—”
Cordelia raised her chin. Might as well make Hypatia say it. “But I’m different?”
“There is no holy light about you,” said Hypatia. She gazed at Cordelia, her starry eyes fathomless. “I have seen the voids between the worlds, and what walks there,” she said. “I have known the fallen angels of the heavenly war, and admired them for their steely pride. I am not one to turn away from shadows. One finds beauty in the darkest of places, and Lucifer was the most beautiful of all Heaven’s angels, once.” She leaned forward. “I understand the urge to reach for such dark beauty, and such power. I have not brought you here to sit in judgment upon you.”
Cordelia said nothing. Far away, she could hear faint laughter from the salon, but she felt as if it were happening on another planet. This was a sort of chess, she realized—a chess game without pieces, played with words and insinuation. Hypatia had not mentioned Lilith by name, yet Cordelia knew Hypatia to be very interested in Lilith indeed.
“You are correct. I am not sworn to an angel,” Cordelia said. “But you do not know who it is I am sworn to, and I am not inclined to say.”
Hypatia shrugged, though Cordelia suspected she was, at the least, disappointed. “So you do not wish to name names. I will find out eventually, I suspect. For when the Shadowhunters discover what you have done, it will be a scandal that rocks the foundations of their world.” She smiled. “But I imagine you know that, and do not care. As a paladin, you are more powerful than any of them now.”
“It was not a power I wanted,” said Cordelia. “I was tricked into taking the oath. Deceived.”
“An unwilling paladin?” Hypatia said. “That’s rather unique.”
“You don’t believe me,” Cordelia said. “Yet I am desperate to sever this bond. There is much I would do for anyone who could tell me how to cease being a paladin.”
Hypatia sat back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. “Well,” she said. “Ceasing to be a paladin is easy enough. The trick is to do so and survive. A paladin can be rejected by the one she serves, of course. But whether that rejection would leave you alive afterward… well, I would not bet money on it.”
Cordelia let out a long breath. “I do not think the one to whom I am bound would reject me,” she said. “My master knows I did not seek this out. That I serve unwillingly. That I go unarmed, that I might not even in error lift a weapon in the service of the demon who tricked me.”
“My,” said Hypatia. She seemed, someone despite herself, interested in the drama of the situation. “That is commitment. A Shadowhunter who will not fight.” She shook her head. “Most paladins of demons have served enthusiastically. And the ones who refused to serve were torn apart by their masters, as a warning. You have been lucky, so far.”
Cordelia shuddered. “So, what you’re saying is that it can’t be done?”
“I am saying it is a waste of time to pursue it. Pursue instead the idea of turning your power toward something good.”
“No good can come from an evil power.”
“I disagree,” said Hypatia. “You took on, what, a dozen Naga demons in Paris? And more demons here in London. You truly could become the greatest, most effective Shadowhunter that has ever been known.”
“Even if I were willing to lift my sword in a demon’s name,” Cordelia said, “other demons recognize me as a paladin. They flee from me. It happened just today.”
“So summon them. Then they can’t flee.” Hypatia sounded bored. “You are a paladin. Simply find a place—it’s best if it has a dark history, a place of death or horror, scarred by tragedy—and say the words cacodaemon invocat, and—”
“Stop!” Cordelia held up her hands. “I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to do anything that will summon up demons—”
“Well, all right,” said Hypatia, clearly affronted. “It was just an idea.” She looked at Cordelia narrowly, but before she could say anything, the bookcase slid aside like a pocket door, and Magnus emerged, looking elegant in royal blue.
“Hypatia, my sweet,” he said. “It’s time for us to leave, if we wish to arrive in Paris in time for the evening performance.” He winked at Cordelia. “Always a pleasure to see you, my dear.”
“Paris?” Cordelia echoed. “I didn’t realize you were going—I mean, I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time.”
“I thought I’d have a word with Madam Dorothea at the Cabaret de l’Enfer,” he said. “A warlock who claims they can communicate with the dead… well. So many of them are charlatans or fakes.”
“You will never find me near such a grubby place,” Hypatia said, and stood up from her chair. “But there are many other things in the City of Lights to tempt me.” She inclined her head in Cordelia’s direction. “Take care, little warrior.” She gestured toward the main room of the salon. “Your boy is here. He arrived some moments ago, but I was enjoying our discussion too much to mention it. My apologies.”
With that, Hypatia turned and followed Magnus back through the gap of the bookshelf, which slid closed behind them. Cordelia hurried into the main room, where she spotted Matthew at a table by himself, wearing dark green velvet and drinking something fizzy from a tall glass.