First fanfic! Please review.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of this.
"You must not fail, Jonathan."
"I won't."
He nodded, as if to say, I certainly hope not. "I do hope you understand how important this is?"
"Of course." I paused for a second. "Though it may help if you actually told me what I'll be doing."
"Patience, son." He looked out the window at the changing colors of the sky, pink and orange fading into blackness. At last he turned around. "I now have the Mortal Cup and the Mortal Sword, as you know. I only need the Mortal Glass now. You must find out where it I for me."
That's all? It was sounding pretty good so far. Easy. "I'm a spy, then?"
"No!" Valentine almost shouted at me. "A boy is going to visit his cousins the Penhallows soon. You will pose as the boy.
"Would it not be easier to simply spy on them?"
"Do not question me, Jonathan. You must be prepared. The other boy, the Wayland one, he is quite talented as well."
"Though not as much as me," I replied smugly.
"Perhaps not. But you must watch out for your sister. Clary could be dangerous."
I'd never met my sister before, and I couldn't stop the rush I felt at the mention of her. How fun it'd be to trick her, to bring her onto our side! Perhaps then my father would realize that I am not just a boy. That I never was.
"Anything else?" I asked.
"You must know everything about the boy's family. When you leave the morning after the next, you will no longer be my son, Jonathan Morgenstern. You will be Sebastian Verlac, on his way to visit his cousins. You will resemble him in looks and personality, and nobody will have a reason to think otherwise. Is that clear?"
"Crystal," I responded.
"Then that is all. You may go," he said, turning towards the window to stare at the now-dark sky.
My hair was black. I stared in the mirror, looking in horror at the event that had taken place. I didn't look ugly, exactly. No it was just the simple fact that black hair didn't look as good as my normal white-blond hair. Put together with the new clothes, I almost couldn't recognize myself.
This is not what a Morgenstern should look like! I thought viciously.
Grabbing my backpack, I walked out of the bathroom, down the stairs, and out of the house.
"Leaving?" My father asked.
"Do I have a choice?" I didn't give him time to answer. "I thought not."
"Do not use that tone with me, boy." My father's voice held a note of warning. I shrugged and left him standing in the doorway. He would be leaving soon, too. When I had my information, which I doubtlessly would soon, we'd meet up in a cave nearby.
"So. You are leaving tomorrow."
"Yes, Father." I spoke as though he was a little kid that was particularly slow.
His eyes narrowed. "Are you prepared?"
I gave a bitter little smile. "Always."
He listened as I rattled off random facts about both the Verlacs and the Penhallows, some completely necessary, others completely pointless. Nodding, Valentine said, "Alright. The boy must be intercepted before he arrives. If he is not, then you would have two Sebastian Verlacs present in Alicante at a given time, and that cannot happen. Leave early so that you may get there first, and when you see him, take care of the boy. Not too close to the city, mind you."
"Of course not." My smile glittered. "And the fate of the boy…?"
"Do not kill him."
I could only stare in shock – a first for me. Quickly regaining my composure, I replied, "You just said to 'take care of him.' Surely you didn't mean it literally?"
Valentine shook his head no. "Get him out of the way, but do not kill him. I have faith that you will be able to carry this instruction out."
"Do not disappoint me."
I scowled as the house disappeared behind me, thinking of the conversation that had taken place between my father and me. Such an easy task I was given, really not worthy of my abilities. Why did he even need me to do this? Surely he could have just asked Malachi. Indeed, the Consul was ideally placed at the center of all Idrisian matters. He already had a spy; he didn't need another.
Maybe, a nagging voice in my head started, he wanted to get you out of his way.
Shut up, I told it. Fury at the voice began raging inside of me, partly because I knew it was possible. Despite this, I kept a calm, placate look on my face. There was nobody around to see if I lost control, but practice was always good.
You know he loved Jace more than he loved you.
As if. To love is to destroy, he had taught me. He would be a hypocrite if he loved the angel boy.
Don't you want him to be a hypocrite? You want him to love you.
But I didn't. I didn't care. Loyal enough I was to him, but loving? No. I was far from it. I didn't love him, and I certainly didn't need his love.
I saw him in the distance, but he didn't see me. The boy must have left really early. His head was down, the bright sun glaring down making it seem dark brown instead of black. This was the boy I was looking for, I knew. Sebastian Verlac, the real one, in the flesh.
Quickly, I drew my stele out of my belt loop, Marking myself with the runes Stealth and Invisibility. Thinking for a moment, I added Speed and Strength for good measure. I was already the fastest and strongest Shadowhunter ever – why I felt the need for those runes, I didn't know.
Light steps, barely hitting the ground before lifting into the air again. I ran toward the boy, soundless as I crept up behind him. He didn't look up, not once, as I began to walk next to him, waiting for Invisibility to wear off. I knew it would soon.
When it did, I lightly tapped Sebastian on the shoulder. He whirled around, scrabbling for a blade without even lifting his head.
I put my hand on his arm. "Hey. Chill."
He looked up at last. "Huh?"
Not a very bright one, hmm?
He wasn't as good-looking as me, I noted. I felt strangely satisfied as I realized that, picking out his imperfections and knowing I was better. As always.
"Hey," I said, giving him a very large, very fake smile. He must have thought it was genuine, though, because he smiled back.
"Hey," he held out his hand to shake. "Sebastian Verlac."
I shook it, letting go as soon as I could without seeming weird or suspicious. I had never really been a touchy-feely person.
We walked on in an awkward silence. He didn't ask for my name, and I didn't give it to him. When we were about an hour away from Alicante, he broke the silence. "So, why are you headed to the Glass City?"
I shrugged. "Family business." It wasn't entirely a lie.
He nodded. "Yeah. Me too. I'm going to visit some cousins."
A perfect opening. I stepped in front of him. "No, you're not."
He stopped in his tracks, which was good because he would have bumped into me otherwise. "What do you mean?"
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. By the Angel, the boy really was slow.
"I said –"
"I know what you said," he interrupted me.
Narrowing my eyes just like my father, I retorted, "Then why –"
"I meant, what did you mean by that?" He interrupted me. Again. Somebody really needed to teach this boy manners.
I smiled, and I knew it wasn't one of those nice, fake ones. It was once of those that practically screamed of malice, that made people wonder what you were up to for a moment, and then cower in fear.
They'd never know, those people. Not until it was too late.
"Isn't it obvious? You're not going to Alicante, boy." I pulled out a dagger and held it in my hand, pointed at his chest.
He looked left, then right, and I could tell he was looking either for help or to escape. But there was nobody in sight, and nowhere he could disappear to if he ran. Sure, there was a huge pile of dirt, looking very out-of-place in the middle of the green Idrisian countryside, but that was only one option, and not a very good one at that. He was doomed, and he knew it.
"You're going to hell," he snarled at me. The boy had seemed so harmless; I was surprised to hear something like this coming out of his mouth. But it was nothing, and I brushed the words off.
I smiled at him again, this one more amused. "Already there," I said, and lunged at him.
The boy was fast, I'll give him that. He dodged to the side, my blade just nicking his skin. But I'd been expecting it and struck out toward him with my fist, connecting with a large crack! as his nose broke under my knuckles.
I watched as he winced in pain, eyes wide with chock. Had he honestly thought he could outmaneuver me? I shook my head at his stupidity. My arms hung at my side, swinging loosely as I waited for him to make his move. Whatever it would be, it didn't matter. The end would always be the end. Things like that wouldn't change, especially if I was involved.
Sebastian whipped out a sword and slashed toward me. Lazily, I deflected it off my own, having decided it would be more useful than the dagger. Twisting, I disarmed him easily, and his sword dropped to the ground with a clatter.
I grinned. "Having fun, boy?"
He gritted his teeth and grabbed another weapon, this one a dagger astonishingly similar to the once I had just recently put away. I laughed, not bothering to hide my amusement. He didn't stand a chance, even if he had a million weapons and I only one.
Sebastian attacked, a large, sweeping blow, and I parried. A smirk stayed on my face as I watched him try to get inside my guard. Sweat started beading on his forehead, but I wasn't the least bit tired.
After a few minutes of this, I got bored. "Okay. Play time's over." I spun, striking toward his left side, which he had momentarily been left undefended as he settled into a routine of attack. Silly boy. He had only lasted so long because I had let him.
A large cut appeared where my sword had sliced his skin, blood dripping openly from the wound. His concentration lost, I knocked his dagger out of his hand and pushed him roughly to the ground.
He glared at me, knowing he was beaten when I put my sword to his throat. Swallowing slightly, he tried to speak.
"Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.
Because I wanted to. It was purely that. Father had clearly told me not to kill him, but here I was, doing it anyway.
I didn't give him answer before I slit his throat, keeping it inside me. Blood poured out from the gash; his eyes lost their focus and looked somewhat glassy.
Getting up, I kicked his body away. The pile of dirt was nearby, and I used it to my advantage, hiding his body deep inside it. His body would never be found, I was fairly certain. Nobody in their right mind would go digging through a mountain of dirt that big.
Smiling, I quickly swapped his clothes for mine and grabbed his luggage. My clothes were stuffed into my backpack, and my backpack into one of his suitcases. The boy had a lot of stuff. Some of it I tossed into the pile of dirt with him, seeing as I wouldn't need it and only took up space.
As I walked toward Alicante, I tried to get in the role of Sebastian Verlac. I put on a nice, charming face and pasted a brilliant smile that looked real and genuine onto it. All this, I did for Valentine. My father.
Father, I thought furiously. He doesn't do anything, just expects us to do it all for him. He wants to summon Raziel, but none of the Mortal Instruments he got by himself. He was weak, and he needed help.
He didn't deserve the glory.
I was a better warrior than he was. It had been him who taught me, but my skills were far greater than his, and that he could not deny.
It was not him who should receive the glory, but me. Mine.
Glory.
It will be mine.