“You do not want to help us,” Will said to Magnus. “You do not want to position yourself as an enemy of Mortmain’s.”
“Well, can you blame him?” Woolsey rose in a whirl of yellow silk.
“What could you possibly have to offer that would make the risk worth it to him?”
“I will give you anything,” said Tessa in a low voice that Will felt in his bones. “Anything at all, if you can help us help Jem.”
Magnus gripped a handful of his black hair. “God, the two of you. I can make inquiries. Track down some of the more unusual shipping routes. Old Molly —”
“I’ve been to her,” Will said. “Something’s frightened her so badly she won’t even crawl out of her grave.”
Woolsey snorted. “And that doesn’t tell you anything, little Shadowhunter? Is it really worth all this, just to stretch your friend’s life out another few months, another year? He will die anyway. And the sooner he dies, the sooner you can have his fiancée, the one you’re in love with.” He cut his amused gaze toward Tessa. “Really you ought to be counting down the days till he expires with great eagerness.”
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