GENESIS: A RIGHT TO STAND (Book One) • SHADOWHUNTERS

CODEX

When they returned to the Institute, Simon and Isabelle decided to go to Central Park, Clary said she was going to have a nap, and Alec and Jace went up to the weapons room.

Jace seemed about to ask Spencer something, but Alec pulled him away before he could get a sound out.

She was left standing, alone, in the foyer of the Institute, unsure of what to do. She could go to her room and try to sleep, or she could go to the library and read, or she could cook something. She wasn't hungry, though, so making anything would be a waste, and she had never been able to sleep during the day, so Spencer decided to make her way to library.

The borderline friendliness that Alec had offered this morning was gone, replaced once again by icy disdain. She wasn't sure what she had done to deserve that—even before their argument at breakfast, Alec's attitude had changed—but it seemed that even her usual friendliness had done nothing to make him like her.

But she didn't need him to like her. Well, it would be nice if he did, but it wasn't necessary. She at least needed him to respect her, though.

Jace seemed to like her, but maybe that was down to the fact that she seemed to push Alec's buttons even better than he did. Jace was the kind of person who liked to watch things unfold.

Isabelle was impartial to her. She wasn't mean, per se, but she certainly wasn't overly friendly or engaging. Not towards Spencer, anyway.

It was funny. The three of them liked each other—obviously, they lived together—but they didn't like Clary. Except Jace, but Spencer guessed it was more than a morbid interest in her situation. But Alec and Izzy didn't like her, even though Clary was also a Shadowhunter. It probably came down to Clary being raised a mundane. Spencer supposed that their situations were opposite—Spencer was a mundane training to become a Shadowhunter, while Clary was a Shadowhunter who was brought up mundane.

And yet, Jace was the only one who appeared to like them both.

She soon reached the double doors that led into the library and opened them.

Hodge's chair was empty, but his raven was perched on his stand, asleep. It lifted its head briefly to look at her, and Spencer inclined her head in a small bow. The bird covered itself with its wing again.

Spencer wandered over to one of the shelves, selecting a book entitled The Shadowhunter's Codex. She turned it over, reading the blurb. It appeared to be filled with all the information about the Shadow World that one would need to know to survive. She tucked the book under her arm and looked around for a spot to sit.

There was a sort of mezzanine-gallery built just above the bookcases, and Spencer saw a spiral staircase at the far end of the room leading up to it. She climbed it, going around and around and around, until she stepped onto the gallery floor. She moved over to the railing and looked down.

Below, the mosaic on the floor formed the angel Raziel, the creator of the Shadowhunters. In his hands, he held the Mortal Cup and Sword. It was a spectacular piece of art, Spencer had to admit.

More books were up here, but they were locked in glass cases. Judging from the size of the padlocks on them, Spencer guessed that these were forbidden. Glass display cabinets were spaced between them, each containing an item of astonishing workmanship. The one closest to her, she saw, contained a wand-shaped object. Golden veins had been etched into, like bolts of lightning—the real kind, not the zig-zag ones. Beneath it was a small plaque that read The Stele of Hodge Starkweather. The case was locked with an adamas padlock.

Spencer wondered what a stele was. She would probably find out in the copy of the Codex. A few feet away, a green leather chaise rested on gold-painted legs. Spencer made herself comfortable, then opened her book.