Of all the sights of Earth he'd seen so far, Ash was most impressed by Central Park.

He'd been to Central Park before—technically. But Central Park in Thule had been, like most places in Thule, a wasteland of ruined architecture, sickly plants and demons, always demons. This was something completely different.

Like a perpetual faerie revel, he thought, pausing to let a group of human children go charging past. For an instant, his heart clenched, thinking that something must be chasing them; but no, they were laughing and squealing happily, and nothing more sinister than a harried-looking caregiver pursued them, shouting in a futile attempt to rein them in. Ash marveled at how carefree they all were.

"Look at all these people." Jace unconsciously echoed Ash's thoughts. He stood, hands in his pockets, frowning as he took in the festive scene. "Just…playing. Sitting around. Eating hot dogs. Like…like it's nothing." He looked up at the sky, where the sun was breaking out from between the clouds in blinding flashes, and winced, moving into the shade of a nearby tree.

"We should have worn hats," said Ash. After years in the darkness and semi-darkness of Thule, he and Jace were both pale as corpses, and liable to burn at the slightest touch of Earth's ferocious sun. They'd scheduled today's outing—their first diurnal sortie into the human world—precisely because it had been cloudy. But now it seemed the clouds were clearing, letting through the sun and fields of brilliant, untrammeled blue.

Jace nodded toward a nearby vendor. "He's selling baseball caps. Let's pick up a few."

He and Ash strolled over and helped themselves. There was no danger of being caught: they were both invisible to mundane eyes under layers of glamour, and none of the humans could so much as spy their shadows. Jace picked out a black cap with an appliqued image of a green woman wrapped in drapery holding up a torch; Ash selected a lime-green number with the mysterious phrase "I NYC" embroidered across the front. He ignored the black and white hats on offer. After years of Sebastian Morgenstern dressing him in nothing but those two shades, Ash couldn't bear to even think of wearing either color.

Thus equipped, they set off once more across the park. It was kind of nice, Ash thought, after so many months, to be with just Jace again. Not that they were really alone: glamoured faeries, knights from the Seelie Court, kept a discreet watch on the pair, far enough away to give them the semblance of privacy, but close enough to swoop in should anything threaten the Queen's son.

Adjusting to life in his mother's Court hadn't been easy for Ash. After spending most of his life as a prisoner, first of the Unseelie King and then of his psychotic father, it had been no simple matter to get used to being a prince. It was still hard to stop himself looking to Jace for permission to do anything, for instance. But the faeries, with their immortal lifespans, were also blessed with inhuman patience, and Ash and Jace were being given all the time they needed.

Ash's mother, too, was being remarkably tactful. He had no doubt that she wanted to get to know him better, and for them to have a real relationship, but she knew better than to rush him. The Seelie Queen provided Ash with the best apartments at Court, with tutors and companions, and included him in Court activities, but she didn't force her presence on him, first letting him get used to living in her Court, and used to the idea of having a mother. Only a few weeks ago had she summoned him to her side privately, and then it was just to sit together in the evening on her personal balcony, admiring the stars and the vast, violently beautiful landscape of Faerie. Ash had relished the peace and quiet—so rare in his life—and found his mother's silent presence surprisingly pleasant.

The next few meetings had taken similar tacks: the Queen summoned him to eat cakes and drink wine and silently watch the stars come out together, before letting him go to bed. Then Ash had come to the balcony one night to find a cross-shaped gameboard set up on the table.

"They tell me you like games," the Queen had said.

Ash bowed. "This is true, Mother." The electronic games and computer games he truly loved were in sadly short supply in Faerie, but he found he quite enjoyed boardgames as well.

"Do you know chaugur?"

"No, my lady." Ash peered at the odd-shaped board interestedly.

"Call me Mother. And it is quite a good game: a royal game from India. Please, sit down and I will teach you how to play."

Ash had sat down, and the Queen had done just that, teaching him the rules and moves of chaugur. They had played a good game that night, and on subsequent nights, and, slowly, Ash had relaxed in his mother's presence. It was strange to have a caregiver who didn't want something from him—the only person who had ever remotely fit that description was Jace—but Ash was discovering, gradually, what it was like to have a mother. They were even having real conversations these days. Progress was being made.

Now he and Jace made their halting way across Central Park, stopping every now and then to stare. Ash gaped as a man went by, hands full of a huge cloud of multi-colored floating things. "What are those?"

Jace gave a cursory glance. "Balloons. They're sold as toys." He was surveying the busy park with a curiously discontented expression. He looked over the lawn full of people sunning themselves, and scowled.

"Balloons." Ash tried out the new word under his breath. A fleeting thought crossed his mind: did Drusilla Blackthorn like balloons? He stifled the thought quickly, before Jace noticed anything in his face.

Ash hadn't told anyone about Drusilla Blackthorn. He held their one encounter in the Unseelie weapons room close to his heart, and hid his portrait of her, taking it out only when he was sure he was unobserved. Looking at it always gave him a strange feeling: a cross between a jolt and a swoop. He wished he knew why: it was just a portrait, drawn on paper, of a girl he'd met only once and didn't know anything about, other than her name and that she was a Shadowhunter. And related, somehow, to Julian Blackthorn. How were they related? What had she been doing in the weapons room that time? Did she like balloons? If not, what did she like? He knew, through careful, casual questioning of Seelie Court members, that the Blackthorn family ran the Los Angeles Institute. Did Drusilla live with them there? What did she do for work? What did she do for fun? These were all dull, mundane questions, but they thrilled Ash, for reasons he didn't understand.

One day, he vowed, he would get answers to these questions. One day, he would truly meet Drusilla Blackthorn.

The sun was growing brighter, the heat rising. Ash was glad they were wearing caps, as the brilliance lanced between the leafy trees and wavered above the pavement surrounding the fountain. Ash paused to stare in awe at the sight: a tall, clean fountain, gushing cascades of foaming white water. Of course, the Seelie Court had fountains; but it was astonishing to see a human-made fountain fully functional. Almost all the fountains in Thule had been dry, cracked and nonoperational—at least, as far as water went. A few had been converted to run on blood.

Ash shut out the thought; he was not going to think about Thule today. He admired the rainbows in the fountain's mist, and watched all the mundanes sporting about it. They all looked so happy, so healthy, their skins glowing with sunlight and wellbeing, smiles on every face, sitting, walking, reading books, looking into queer little devices (phones, Jace called them), little children running around, all without a care in the world, with absolutely no fear that something monstrous was going to leap out and kill them, or that they would be dragged off to provide hideous sport for demons or for Sebastian's entourage…This was what it was to live in a healthy world, Ash realized. One where demons were kept at bay. One where Sebastian Morgenstern was long dead and forgotten.

"Look at them all." There was a dark, hard note in Jace's voice.

Ash glanced at him. Jace was glaring at all the happy mundanes, slouched over, mouth a thin line. He didn't look as though he was enjoying himself. "You keep saying that," Ash said. "What's the matter?"

"Just…all these…people." Jace gestured at the crowd in sweeping contempt. "All so happy. Like there's nothing to fear, while back in Thule…" He shook his head. "It isn't fair."

Ash considered this. "Well, no," he admitted. "But what's to be done about it? Worlds split off and head in different directions. That's the way of things."

Jace's mouth tightened further. "Perhaps things ought to change."

Ash eyed him sidelong. He didn't like the way Jace's thoughts were trending. But if there was one thing he'd learned, after years of being held prisoner and having magical experiments performed on him by the Unseelie King, followed by years of being a captive witness to Sebastian's depravities, it was that his social superiors were going to make stupid, destructive decisions and there was nothing he could do to stop them. It had also given him a finely tuned sense for when to keep his mouth shut, which was most of the time.

So now he just said, "I'm thirsty. May we drink from that fountain?"

Jace seemed to pull himself together. "Only if you want to contract typhoid." He glanced around. "That looks like an ice cream vendor. Let's buy some cones." He led Ash to the back of the line.

Ash craned; there were a lot of people ahead. "So we have to wait in line before we can buy this…ice cream?"

"Yep. Take your glamour off, Ash."

Ash obediently cleared away his glamour, as Jace did. A nearby mundane girl blinked in astonishment; Jace smirked and gave her a finger-wave. Turning ashen, she hurried away with a frightened glance behind.

Ash watched her go. "Is she going to tell anyone?"

"About us? Not a chance. In an hour or so, she'll be telling herself she was just imagining things." The line moved up incrementally. "It's not like Thule. The mundanes don't know about us, and they don't believe in us."

So strange. "Why must we wait in line like this? Can't we just take some ice cream?"

"Ice cream's not like hats. There's no way we can sneak into the ice cream truck, scoop out ice cream, and put it into cones without being detected. The Queen gave us plenty of money. Just be patient."

"Yes, Jace." Ash was already distracted, watching a group of girls by the fountain. One had dark hair and round curves, like Drusilla Blackthorn. She noticed Ash looking, and giggled, blushing. Without his realizing it, Ash took a few steps toward her.

He was stopped by an iron-strong hand on his arm. "No wandering off, Ash," growled Jace, voice steely. "You stay by me."

Ash meekly stepped back into place at Jace's side. "Yes, Jace."

The day Ash had realized that Jace loved him, really loved him, was the day Jace hit him.

It was back on Thule. Ash and Annabel had only recently arrived, and joined Sebastian's entourage. Ash was still disoriented, disgusted by everything he saw, and desperate to get away from Sebastian, Jace and Annabel alike. It wasn't easy: Annabel seldom went an hour without checking on Ash, and Sebastian seemed to like having him around, insisting that Ash attend him every day. But at last there had come a chance: Annabel was out and Jace and Sebastian were wholly distracted (Ash tried not to let himself remember exactly what they'd been distracted by). Ash had edged away, sneaking quietly out the door and then dashing out of the house they were staying in.

Sebastian had traveled a lot; it was part of his strategy for maintaining control. At the time, they'd been in a ruined town near the ocean. Ash had ghosted through the broken streets, through the abundant shadows, avoiding demons and straggling humans alike, until he came to an old, cracked cement bulwark, overlooking the sea. Ash sat, legs dangling, already feeling more at peace. The sea was dark and sullen, lifeless, but the waves dashed energetically and the wind was spiced with salt. He sat back, reveling in the view and the solitude.

That solitude lasted less than an hour. There came the sound of footsteps, and Ash scrambled to his feet, reaching for his dagger, relaxing when he saw it was only Jace, accompanied by two demons. "Hello, Jace—"

Jace's hand shot out. He seized Ash by the collar, yanked him close, and slapped him across the face, so hard that his ears rang and he saw stars. "Idiot," hissed Jace. "You could have been killed. Don't you know who you are? There are plenty who'd be glad to put a bullet through Sebastian Morgenstern's son, or run you through. You're lucky it was me who found you first." He pulled Ash close, and Ash felt tremors of rage and relief run through the older man. "I'm sorry," Jace whispered, and Ash sensed that he truly was. "But you have to stay with me and Sebastian. Where we can protect you. Now come with me."

Jace and his demons had escorted Ash back to the house, where Annabel had swooped down on him, frantically asking where he'd been and whether he was all right. She'd been so cloying, so clinging, that Ash had been almost relieved when Sebastian sent her away.

Almost. And Sebastian's discipline made him long for her return.

"Ash Morgenstern," Sebastian pronounced while Ash writhed on the floor, helpless under the crushing weight of his father's will. Ash almost couldn't writhe; the magical force holding him down was heavy as a planet, and the psychic blows Sebastian had given him made him feel as though he had a dozen broken bones.

"Ash Morgenstern," Sebastian said, "you left without my permission. I will not tolerate such disobedience from anyone, especially not my own son. You come when I tell you to come, and you depart only when I give you leave. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father." Ash could barely squeeze out the words. "I'm sorry—" He broke off, choking.

Jace, who had been hovering silently, now stepped forward. "Let him go, Sebastian. I think he's learned his lesson."

Sebastian increased the pressure, making Ash give another agonized huff. "I'll decide when he's learned his lesson."

"He won't do it again." Jace looked at Ash, golden eyes staring into green. "Will you?"

Sebastian decreased the pressure, enough for Ash to shake his head. "No. I won't."

Sebastian scowled, but finally released Ash completely. He'd stood up, coughing, feeling like he was about to break apart.

Ash had kept his promise: he never tried to sneak off again, no matter what horrors he was forced to witness. He attended Sebastian and Jace every waking moment, leaving only when they sent him away—and even then, it was seldom further than the next room. Everyone but Ash approved of the arrangement. Annabel had liked knowing where he was at all times; and while Sebastian might forget Ash's existence for hours or days at a time, there was no telling when his attention would suddenly snap back onto him, and then he expected Ash to be instantly present and available.

But it was Jace who kept the closest watch on him. Jace, who always made sure Ash was within view, within his protection. Jace, who spoke to him every day. Jace, who always seemed relieved to see that Ash was well and safe, who smiled when he turned his head and saw him, even if Ash wasn't doing anything but playing a video game. It was Jace who had gone to find him; and it was Jace who cared, truly cared, what became of Ash.

So now Ash obediently fell into place and stayed close to Jace. It was by now a thoroughly engrained habit for them both; and, honestly, kind of a relief to follow an old, established rule in the midst of all this activity, all this new strangeness.

Ash watched with great interest while Jace conducted the transaction, handing over those funny green papers in exchange for two wafers shaped into cones, each heaped with a creamy substance. He handed Ash the white one with brown bits. "How do I eat it?" Ash asked as they stepped away from the van.

"You lick it. Like this." Jace demonstrated on his chocolate-and-peanut butter cone.

Ash licked his own ice cream and nearly swooned. This stuff was divine: a creamy, cold confection of vanilla, and those brown bits turned out to be raw cookie dough. Ash happily devoured more as they moved off around the fountain. He was, decided, a fan for life.

Then he noticed something that made him pause, ice cream melting in his mouth. "Jace," he said, "that boy is blue."

"What?"

"That little boy over there." Ash pointed with his free hand. "Playing in the fountain. He's blue." None of the other mundanes had blue skin like that: a dark navy blue, all over. Of course, such colors weren't unknown in faeries; but Ash knew faeries well, and this boy didn't have the look. An exciting idea occurred to Ash. "Is he a warlock?" He peered with even greater interest: he'd never seen a pure, uncontaminated warlock before.

"I guess he must be," Jace shrugged. "Look, he's wearing a glamour. None of the mundanes can…" He trailed off as a tall, dark-haired figure, flamboyant in a trailing coat, came bustling up to the little warlock boy.

"Papa!" shrieked the child, scrambling out of the water and hurrying over.

"Max," said the adult, fighting down a grin, "you know you shouldn't play in the fountain. What do you think you are, a kelpie?"

The little boy—Max—shrieked with laughter. "Sure!" He took the man's hand. "Come on, Papa! I want to see Daddy and Rafael." They began moving off.

Jace shoved his ice cream cone into Ash's hand and began following, keeping his distance, keeping to the shadows. Ash wanted to ask what was happening, but then took one look at Jace's expression and thought better of it. Trailing behind Jace, he took the opportunity to sample the chocolate-and-peanut butter ice cream. Heaven.

They snuck after the man and the boy, discreet and silent; Ash wondered what their faerie bodyguards thought of this, and what they would report to his mother. Max and his father continued briskly along, Max skipping at Papa's side, until they came to a bench where another man, this one black-haired and blue-eyed, dressed far less ostentatiously than Papa, sat with another, normal-colored boy (also eating an ice cream, Ash noted).

"Daddy!" screamed Max happily, dashing forward.

Daddy reached to embrace him; then pulled back. "Max! You're all wet!" He glanced up at Papa. "Was he playing in the fountain again, Magnus?"

Magnus? Ash knew that name; Jace used to talk about him. Was this really that Magnus? Ash dared a glance at Jace's frozen face, and knew it must be true. So that meant the other man must be—

"Alec! You've spied out our little criminal yet again," said Magnus, shaking his head. "Nothing keeps him out of that fountain, not even the sailor suit of shame."

"Rafael, give me some ice cream." Max clambered onto the bench and reached for the cone in the older boy's hand.

"No! This is mine!" Rafael held his ice cream away protectively (Ash could sympathize).

"Let him have a lick, Rafael," Alec said. He now stood beside Magnus, who draped an arm over his shoulders. "Just a lick though, Max," he added warningly.

Max took such an enormous lick that his blue face came away brown with chocolate. Rafael let out a wail of outrage. "You little pig!"

Magnus shook his head, fighting back laughter, and turned to Alec. "Kids these days, huh?" He turned to face Alec fully and, one hand on his shoulder, kissed him passionately on the mouth.

A small, strangled noise came out of Jace. Ash looked over, to see that he'd gone completely rigid, face frozen and staring under his black baseball cap. "This isn't right," Jace whispered, low and fierce. "This isn't fair. Alec—Magnus—" And Ash knew he was thinking of his Alec and Magnus, the Thule Alec and Magnus, the couple who had died so horribly, while before him these two—this spectacularly lucky couple with the two children in the sunny park—now kissed and held each other in blissful love.

Ash shrank from the thought of attracting Jace's attention in this state, but he knew he couldn't just do nothing: there was no telling what Jace might do.

Ash looked regretfully at the chocolate-and-peanut butter ice cream cone. Then he lobbed it onto Jace's foot.

Jace yelped and yanked away his foot as the cold ice cream penetrated his thin shoe. "Ash!"

Jace's cry attracted the attention of the little family at the bench. They all looked up, and Ash remembered that he and Jace weren't wearing glamours: the men and children could see them. Hastily, Ash threw up the strongest spell of invisibility he knew, a curtain of thick glamour that hid them from even supernatural eyes.

"What was that?" Ash's glamour was so thick that Rafael's voice came through echoing and distorted.

"I don't know." Alec was frowning in their direction. "I thought I saw…" He withdrew a shining white blade. "I'll check it out."

"Me too, Daddy, me too!" Max bobbed up and down.

"You stay there," growled Alec, sounding bizarrely like Jace to Ash's ears. He began moving toward Jace and Ash. Behind him, a blue light developed around Magnus's fingers as he stood protectively before the youngsters.

"Jace." Ash took hold of Jace's arm. "Jace, we need to leave. Now."

"Yes." Despite his words, Jace still didn't move. He just stood and glared at the approaching Alec, murderously, as though he would have gladly killed the other man. "Yes, we should."

He turned, and he and Ash dashed off, ghosting back among the trees where their faerie bodyguards awaited. Ash dispensed with the glamour as soon as they were out of Alec's sight, startling the Seelie knights. "Come," Ash said, smoothing away all expression from his face and voice, "I think it's time we all returned home. Summon the other knights."

And they probably shouldn't leave Court again, Ash reflected as the knight turned to signal to his comrades, for a good long while. He hadn't anticipated any of Jace's reaction to the park, or the sight of his old friends. Ash repressed a shiver. He didn't think Alec and Magnus, let alone their boys, were Jace's "friends" any longer.

A new, horrible thought occurred to Ash: what if, instead of Alec and Magnus, they'd seen Clary and Jace? The other Jace, the Earth-Jace, the one Ash's Jace never, ever spoke of? It didn't bear thinking of. He thought of Thule-Jace's demand that the Seelie Queen deliver Clary Fairchild to him, and suppressed another shudder.

Just what was Jace planning to do once the Queen fulfilled her side of the bargain?

Jace allowed Ash and the knights to shepherd him through the portal back to the Seelie Court. He wanted out of this damned park anyway, and he could see Ash was genuinely worried, almost afraid, for all he tried to hide it. Jace smirked internally. That boy genuinely thought he could hide things from Jace; but Jace knew things about Ash that Ash didn't even know yet.

He knew, for instance, about that portrait of Drusilla Blackthorn that Ash kept hidden and took out only when he thought no one was looking. He'd seen Ash pick it up off the floor, back in Thule, though he'd given no sign that he noticed at the time, and certainly hadn't mentioned it to Sebastian. Later, he'd seen Ash's expression when he looked at the picture; and he, of all people, knew what that expression meant.

Clary. Her name was both curse and yearning whenever he said or thought it, love and hatred mixed equal in the balance. Clary. He felt like all of Earth—this pretty, happy, safe little sandbox of a world—could be encapsulated in those two syllables. Here Clary lived on, safe and happy with him (Jace couldn't bring himself to even think that man's name), and Alec and Magnus lived on, and Maryse, and everyone else who Jace had lost, while back on Thule the carnage no doubt continued, even without Sebastian at the helm. Why? Jace demanded silently of Earth, of the revelers in the park, of Alec and Magnus, and, most of all, Clary and him. Why should you be alive and free and happy? Why you, when I spent years as Sebastian's pet? When the only one I love, a helpless boy, doesn't even know about ice cream or balloons and is in love with a portrait when he can never have the real girl? Why is everyone in this world so happy and free, when my own world literally went to hell?

Well, the equation was going to be balanced soon, wasn't it? Just as soon as the Queen delivered Clary Fairchild, as she'd promised. It had already been too long; he would make sure there were no more delays.

And then…he would make Earth bleed.

(Disclaimer: Please be advised that this is fan fiction based off characters and events in Cassandra Clare's The Dark Artifices series. I claim no ownership of these characters or the books or copyright they are based off of. This work is not intended for profit or publication, but for entertainment only, for users of . Use of anyone else's copy is purely coincidental.)