Chapter 1

- Alicante, 2007-

Amelia Cross felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. No, it felt worse. Way worse than that. It felt as if someone had steeped his hand into her chest, ripped out her heart and left a big block of cold ice inside of her. She just could not believe what just had happened. Even in her worst nightmares, she never would have dared to believe that it would even be possible.

Amelia leaned against the cold wall behind her and closed her eyes. She had to put her hands on the icy stones beside her body, otherwise she might not have been able to stay on her two feet. Her legs felt weak, her hands were shaky and in her head she heard the sound of her own circulating blood.

"Amy? Darling? Are you alright?"

With a worried look on her face Alexandria Cross stood before her daughter and held out her hand. Amelia opened her eyes and looked at her mother, her gaze was wild and furious. "That … that can't be true. Tell me that it is not true. You … you must have gotten it wrong."

Alexandria dropped her hand. "No, darling. I am so sorry. The Clave has decided."

Stunned Amelia shook her head. When she spoke, her voice sounded as weak as she was feeling. "But that's not right. They are wrong. They have to change their minds."

"I'm afraid, but that is not going to happen", her mother said, a sad tone in her voice. "You know how this works. They have discussed it properly and have come to a decision. They won't change."

"But it is wrong!" Amelia felt the icy rock in her chest turn to a ball of red raging fury. "Let me talk to them. Let me talk to Jia. I have to tell her that she's wrong." She clenched her fists and pushed her body away from the wall. Luckily her legs seemed to be able to hold her upright. The last thing she wanted was to break down in the floors of the Gard.

"I don't think the Council is going to listen to you", Alexandria said. "You're not a member, only a teenager."

Amelia hated it when her mother talked to her like that. She hated when Alexandria treated her like a child, for she was already sixteen years old. Of course she knew that she was still young, but that didn't mean that she was stupid or that she had nothing to say. It didn't mean that she hadn't deserved to be heard. Like any other Shadowhunter she was old enough to fight with a sword or knew how to handle a bow. She was old enough to know how to fight and old enough to know how to kill. How could it be possible, that she was too young to speak in front of the Council?

Amelia took a deep breath. "Take me to Jia. She will listen. I will make her listen to me." Alexandria stood there as if she was frozen, so Amelia said, "Fine. I'll go alone." She wanted to walk past her mother, but Alexandria grabbed her arm. Amelia turned around and looked at her. "Let go of me!"

She was surprised herself how strong her voice sounded, for she felt as weak as never before. But something deep inside her made her feel confident somehow, made her stand up against her mother and made her believe she could convince the Council that they had come to a wrong decision.

"Amy", Alexandria began, but Amelia broke away from her. "No! I do not want to hear it! I do not want to hear that they give up just like that! We are Shadowhunters. Isn't that supposed to mean that we don't give up without at least fighting? Or trying? We don't give up, not having tried anything we can. That is not our nature!" Her voice became softer, almost pleading. "When did we begin to leave our kind behind?"

At the end of the long floor some other Shadowhunters, who had been to the meeting of the Clave, had stopped to see what was going on between Alexandria and her daughter. However, Amelia didn't care. She didn't bother whether the others were listening or not. It was her right to speak out her opinion – and she didn't care if anyone else in Alicante heard what she had to say!

"We are taught that it is our duty to fight for the good. We are meant to protect those who need protection, help those who are in need of help. How can it be that we let one of our kind - a Shadowhunter - down? How can we dare giving up on him?"

"We do not give up on him."

Amelia turned around just to look at Consul Jia Penhallow. Even though Jia was small and looked as if one could break her apart easily, she emanated a strength and an explicit authority that was impressive and for which Amelia had always looked up to her. Now Jia's dark eyes were resting on Amelia's face. If the Consul was upset or angry, she kept her feelings hidden. On the outside, she seemed to be perfectly calm, but that could change from one minute to another.

Amelia swallowed. Defiantly she stretched her chin forward and said, "You have decided not to look for him. You have decided to just leave him there. To me that sounds like giving up."

Alexandria sighed deeply and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Somehow she could understand her daughter, but Amelia had to understand that there were things she didn't know enough about to judge them. And to doubt the decisions of the Council was definitely something she wasn't entitled to.

With a very patient voice Jia said, "Mark Blackthorn has decided to join the Wild Hunt. He is with the fairies now, for is half-fey himself."

"He is also half a Shadowhunter", Amelia countered angrily. "And this half of him should always count more. Isn't that what we are taught?"

Jia nodded reluctantly. "Yes, but it doesn't change the fact that we still don't know where his loyalty lies."

Again the raging anger in Amelia's chest began to roar. How could the Consul dare to question Mark's loyalty? After he had fought in the Los Angeles Institute until there was almost no one left to fight for? After he had risked his life sending the note to Idris, warning them not to trust the fairies? Surely Mark had saved many lives in Idris by risking his own.

"If Mark Blackthorn would not have warned us of the Fair Folk's betrayal, there would have been many more victims. We wouldn't have had a chance against the Endarkened and the Fairies." Amelia shrugged. "To me that shows pretty clearly where Mark's loyalty lies. And that you and the Council question that is just not right."

Jia examined her closely and Amelia whispered, "It is wrong. We are letting him down. And he will know that. He will feel that we left him, because we don't trust him anymore. And even if he is a Shadowhunter now - that might change. If he is left with no hope, he will surely give up. And then it will be our fault. We cannot let this happen. Please."

"What if he has always been a Downworlder? What if he finally decides to show his true self?"

Laszlo Balogh, the Shadowhunter who had spoken in front of the Council, demanding to send Helen Blackthorn away and to leave Mark with the Fairies, stood behind Jia. Amelia looked at him, her eyes spraying with anger. "What do you know about his true self? Have you ever even spoken to him?"

"I don't need to talk to him." Baloghs voice sounded sharp and cold. "I know enough. The latest betrayal of the Fair Folk has clearly shown that they cannot be trusted. And the simple fact that a child refuses to believe the truth does not change a thing."

Jia stepped between the two of them and raised her hands. "This discussion is done. The Council has spoken and its will has to be respected. We have more important things to take care of at the moment." She looked at Amelia, whose fists were still clenched. "I know that you don't want to hear it, but Mark chose to join Wild Hunt willingly and out of free will. He is with his kind and therefore we believe that he will be save there. And even if we tried to bring him back - once you've joined the Hunt, you can never leave, except given the permission to do so."

Amelia felt her heart skip a beat. "His kind?" she repeated disbelievingly. "We are his kind. We are his home. We are his family."

"No, we are not." Again it was Balogh who spoke. The cold in his voice made Amelia shiver. For a moment she felt so furious that she thought about throwing herself at him and punching her fists into the selfish grin he was showing. It took all her self-control to stay calm.

Balogh's eyes rested on Amelia's face. "Mark Blackthorn has chosen a side. He chose the Downworlders. Maybe the blood of the Shadowhunters is stronger, but not in his case. We will not waste our time searching for someone who has decided against us. Mark's father might have believed that the good in his son was stronger than his dark side, but Mark has clearly proven him wrong."

Although there were quite a lot Shadowhunters around them, the silence on the wide hallway was almost frightening. Amelia's gaze wandered around and rested on a small figure, standing right behind Balogh.

Julian Blackthorn looked at the tall man with an empty expression on his face. In his arms he held little Tavvy, who had put his head against his older brother's shoulder. Julian's hand rested on Tavvy's head, as if he was trying to protect the little boy from hearing all the evil things being said about Mark. His blue-green eyes were deep and empty and reminded Amelia so much of Mark's, that it made her heart ache with a painful longing. Those weren't the eyes of an innocent and careless twelve -year -old anymore, but the eyes of a desperate and sad child, that had already seen too much pain and suffering. As if it wouldn't have been bad enough that he and the other Blackthorn children had lost their father, now they also had to deal with the loss of two of their siblings.

That was definitely more than any child should have to bear. Amelia wished so desperately that there would have been anything she could have done to comfort Julian, Livvy, Ty, Dru and Tavy , to help them in their sorrow. Never before in her life had she felt so damn helpless.

All the others were looking at the children too. Jia moved toward Julian, but before she could reach him, another small figure stepped in front of him. It was Emma Carstairs, Julian's closest friend, only twelve years old herself. With a fiery look in her eyes she shielded Julian against Jia, Balogh and the others. Whereas Julian was sad and tired, Emma was angry. The anger was written all over her small and pale face, making her cheeks flush and her eyes darker than they usually were. There was something about that little girl that made the Consul stop. Emma gave Balogh one last look, curled her lips in antipathy and then turned to Julian.

"Come on, Jules. Let's go."

Suddenly all of her anger seemed to be gone. When she spoke to Julian her voice was soft and tender and full of love for her best friend. Emma put her hand on Julian's arm and without saying a word he turned around and followed her through the hallway.

Amelia swallowed dryly and turned to Jia. "How are going to explain to them, that the Council doesn't trust the two people anymore, that they need more than anything else in the world? How can you expect them to still trust you?"

Without waiting for a respond Amelia turned and made her way out of the Gard. She needed fresh air. And she needed her blades.

Amelia loved the training. She always had loved it, from the very moment she had been allowed to own her first weapons. She loved the concentration that was needed to throw a dagger precisely at its aim and the triumph when it hit the target exactly in the middle. The daggers were her favorite weapons, they were small, but deadly. Her brother Grayson had joked that she had instinctively chosen the weapons that were just like her - very small and not too dangerous. But Amelia had proven him wrong. Of course Grayson's sword looked a lot more impressive, but in her hands her small daggers turned into deadly whirlwinds. Amelia was very quick and the fact that she was not that tall made her move more quickly than every sword ever could. More than once she had beaten her older brother in the training.

Now she was standing in the training hall in the family's house outside Alicante. Whenever she was upset or just needed time to think she came here. The scent of leather and metal always calmed her down. Amelia was wearing her training dress, simple black jeans, a dark blue shirt and her leather boots. Her long black hair was bound into a thick braid, falling over her shoulder. On her bare arms the Runes were visible, dark and black against her slightly tanned skin. She took a deep breath, relaxed her muscles and focused on the target in front of her. In each hand she held a dagger, the soft leather of the handles warm in her palms. Slowly she raised her hands, letting the double-edged daggers swirl and dance around her fingers. Amelia felt her body relaxing, the tension and the fury she had felt since she left the Gard seemed to slowly disappear. She held her breath, tensed her muscles and with an unbelievably quick movement she threw both daggers at the target. Both of them hit the bull's eye with deadly precision. Amelia went to them, pulled them out and looked around. She needed something to get rid of her anger, something exhausting that would wear her out.

Her gaze fell on the punching ball in one corner. That was exactly what she needed. Amelia put the daggers into the sheaths on her waist and went to the punching ball. She put the tapes around her fingers and looked up to the ball, which was almost one head taller than she was. So many times had wished to be a little bit taller, afraid her small size would be a disadvantage in battle. But Katerina, the tutor at the Los Angeles Institute, had shown her how to turn her weakness into one of her strengths. She taught her how to move quickly, how to avoid punches by using her lack of height.

Amelia closed her eyes. She had liked Katerina and the thought that she would never see her again hurt in the worst way. She opened her eyes, raised her fists and started throwing strike after strike at the punching ball. After some minutes she was breathing heavily and felt the sweat on her face, but she couldn't stop. She punched and kicked the ball, sometimes screaming at it, until the muscles in her arms were burning and her knuckles were hurting. She was so caught up in her training that she didn't realize someone entering the room. The tall, thin figure stayed close to the door, watching Amelia fighting.

"Let me guess - is it Jia Penhallow's butt you're kicking?"

Amelia turned around and threw a glance at the intruder. She was panting and her sweaty hair was glued to her face and neck. As soon as she recognized her brother Grayson, she relaxed and answered, "No. Actually I thought of kicking Balogh's -" She paused for a second. "Well, let's say butt."

"That would have been my second guess." Grayson smiled and strolled toward her. The resemblance between the siblings was striking. They had the same black hair and dark green eyes and both got little dimples on their cheeks when they smiled. Grayson and Amelia could have been twins - surely they looked more alike than Livvy and Ty Blackthorn, who actually were twins.

Amelia put her hands to her hips and said, "Your comments make me believe that you have already heard about my little disagreement with the Consul."

"Little disagreement?" Grayson laughed quietly. "Mom said, for a second she thought you'd jump at Balogh in front of everyone else."

Amelia sighed. "I have to admit, for a moment I actually thought about it."

Grayson pointed at the punching ball. "So, did the training help?"

"A little bit." Amelia shrugged her shoulders. "At least don't feel like jumping at anyone anymore."

Grayson nodded and said, "I might need a little work out myself. Interested?" Without waiting for an answer he went to the cabinet, in which the family kept their weapons when they not needed them. He pulled his pullover over his head, so that he was only wearing a sleeveless shirt, and took his sword out of the cabinet. Just like Amelia's, his arms were also covered with Runes and some scars. He turned to his sister and she slowly went to the cabinet. She didn't have a sword of her own, for she had always preferred the smaller daggers, but besides her other weapons was a Katana, a Japanese long sword. She hesitated before she carefully took it out and pulled it out of its sheath. She held her breath, looking at the gracefully curved blade on which a twine of thorns was engraved - the sign of the Blackthorn family.

The Katana belonged to Mark. He had given it to her only a few days before the Institute had been attacked. He had thought that Amelia should start practicing how to fight with a bigger sword. In a fight using only daggers as weapons could be a disadvantage - no matter how skilled one was fighting with them. Mark had showed her how to hold the sword, how to find the perfect balance and how to profit from its length and weight. For some weeks Amelia had been training with Mark, but all the swords in the Institute just didn't seem to match her. Then he had given her his Katana, which was a little smaller and more lightweight than the other blades, but as deadly. To her own surprise Amelia loved the weapon. The sword seemed to be perfect, as if it had been made for her. The handle suited her hand, making the Katana feel like an extension of her arm. She loved the slightly curved single blade with the twine of thorns on it - wonderful and absolutely deadly.

Amelia wrapped her fingers around the handle and turned to Grayson, who was waiting for her, his sword in his right hand. Slowly she moved toward him and said, "Don't go to hard on me. I'm still learning how to fight with a single blade."

Grayson smiled. "Forbearance has never been my best asset."

Amelia shook her head and raised her eyebrows. "I just want to make sure that I am learning something instead of just getting my butt kicked by you."

"Why would I do that?" Grayson asked and she smiled. "Because you are angry too. I can see it. You have that line on your forehead that you always get when you are angry."

He sighed deeply. "Well, maybe I don't like the decision of the Council, either. And now get into position. I attack, you'll defend."

Amelia placed her weight on her left leg, assuming that was the side Grayson would attack first. She held the Katana in both hands and placed it in front of her body. Almost instantly Grayson attacked. The strike was strong and made Amelia draw back one step. Instead of giving her a moment to find her balance again, Grayson struck once more. This time the strike was at the height of her hips, so Amelia had to swing the blade around to avoid being hit. But this time she managed to stay where she was, instead of drawing back.

Grayson nodded. "Good. You found your balance. But the way you hold your arms is still sloppy. You have to protect your side better."

Again he attacked her and again she countered the strike.

"You have to be quicker, Amy. Short and precise movements - stop fidgeting your arms!"

Amelia gasped. "I am not fidgeting my arms!"

"Yes, you do." Grayson moved one step closer, acting as if he wanted to attack her right side. But instead he whirled around, placing a strike on her left side. Unbelievably close to her upper arm he stopped the blade and said, "If this had been a real fight, you would have lost your arm."

Amelia dropped the Katana and looked at her brother. "I don't think I can concentrate very well today."

Grayson dropped his sword too. "Do you want to talk?"

Amelia stared at him and he sighed. "You know, I could go on pretending that I haven't noticed that Mark's disappearance is bothering you. I could also go on acting as if I hadn't noticed the way you looked at Mark when you thought no one was watching. But I don't think that would be helpful in any way. So, instead I decided to be a good, caring brother and tell you that you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I will listen."

For a second Amelia closed her eyes. Never had she thought that Grayson would have noticed her feelings for Mark. She had always believed her older brother would not care about her business and the fact that he did care for her made her feel warm and loved. She felt tears behind her closed eyelids and tried to swallow them down, before she opened her eyes. Grayson studied her face. "I am right, aren't I?"

Instead of saying something Amelia could only nod.

"So, you like him, don't you?"

Like did not even come close to what she felt for Mark Blackthorn. She loved him, since the day she had met him, almost three years ago. Even now she could remember exactly how he had looked when they first met. Amelia and her family had arrived at he Institute and the members of the Blackthorn family had been lined up to welcome them. Octavian had just been born and the children and Andrew had been in grief over the loss of their mother and wife. Amelia remembered only looking at Mark, with his fair hair and the slightly pointy ears. She remembered thinking that never before she had seen such a good-looking boy - and that hadn't changed until today.

She had wanted to hate this place. Amelia had been sure that Los Angeles could not even be half as beautiful as Idris was. When her parents told her and Grayson that they were moving to the Los Angeles Institute, Amelia had told them that they would have to go without her, for she would never leave Alicante behind. All her friends were there, it was her home. But of course she had to go.

So she decided to hate it. She wanted to hate the beaches, the sun, the smog, the noise and the Institute. She had been thirteen years old, stubborn and childish. But then they arrived at the Institute and suddenly Amelia found a reason to love Los Angeles. The reason was Mark Blackthorn.

Of course she had heard of him and his sister Helen, she knew that they were half-fey. But in her wildest dreams Amelia could have never imagined how beautiful they both looked. There was something about their white-gold hair and their pale skins that was very appealing to her. She knew that the fearie blood was responsible for their delicate faces, as well as for the fact that Mark and Helen seemed beautiful to humans, but she didn't care. From the very first moment she had liked Helen, who was always friendly and smiling, whenever she saw her. Helen, who was two years older than Amelia, had become a good friend. She had tried everything to make the Cross children feel at home. Mark had been kind to them, too - in fact, all of the Blackthorn children had been. But Mark had always kept a distance. Amelia did not know why, but Helen seemed to be more open than her brother.

The fact that Mark had not paid that much attention to her had not been able to change her feelings for him. He didn't have to talk or to look at her to make her fall for him with all her heart.

"Amy?" Grayson's voice brought her back to reality. She blinked the memory away and looked at her brother. His face was worried. "Are you okay?"

Amelia bit her lower lip and shook her head. Again she felt the tears and knew that this time she would not be able to stop them. She pressed her hand on her mouth, trying to stop the sobs, but there was nothing she could do. Suddenly she felt Grayson's arms around her, holding her tight. She pressed her face against his warm chest and finally started to cry. Grayson held her until her body stopped shaking and asked quietly, "Do Mum and Dad know about that?"

"I don't think so", she answered in a shaky voice. "I don't think anybody knows. Except for you."

Grayson looked at his little sister and smiled crookedly. "That's because I am way smarter than the rest."

For a second Amelia's face was lit with a little smile. Then she stepped back and ran her hand over her face, before she returned to the cabinet and placed the Katana back into its sheath, not without letting her fingers run over the thorns on the blade.

Grayson went to the bench, which was located in front of one of the walls, and sat down. "Does Mark know about your feelings?"

Amelia hesitated for a second. "I think so. I mean, I never told him, but -" She paused, sniffed and whispered, "I wish I would have told him. The thought that I might have lost him, without telling him that I love him, is killing me." She went to the bench and sat down beside Grayson.

He frowned and said, "Don't get me wrong, Amy - but you know that Fairies can make people fall for them. They don't even have to want it."

"Of course I know." Amelia leaned against the wall behind her. "Of course I think he's beautiful, but there is so much more to him. It's hard to explain, but I know that it's not the fearie blood that makes me love him. It's just him. All of him." She put her head against Grayson's shoulder. "How can something so beautiful and simple be so complicated and frightening at the same time?"

Grayson thought for a moment before he said, "I guess love always is."

Amelia closed her eyes, afraid that her brother was right about that.

- Los Angeles, 2004 -

The library was Amelia's favorite place in the Institute. She loved the dark, huge racks with more books than she had ever seen in her life, between which you could easily get lost. She loved the small tables and the comfortable armchairs that were placed in some corridors and the mighty windows, whose multicolored pans painted the walls with beautiful patterns whenever the suns shone through. Amelia loved sitting in the silence and letting her mind wander to all the places she read about. In fact, most of the time she spent alone somewhere between the racks, her nose stuck into a book. It was not that she didn't like the others in the Institute, but she simply was not that into swimming, surfing or skating - just like everyone else in Los Angeles seemed to be.

It was a very hot day, so the library brought another positive side effect - in the rooms it was always pleasantly cool. Amelia wandered through the corridors, trying to memorize where the books stood she was looking for. She went around one rack and froze.

On the floor between the massive shelves sat Mark Blackthorn. His back was leaned against one of the racks, his head was bent over a thick book he held in his hands. His knees were tightened to his body, so that he looked smaller than he actually was. Amelia noticed that he had let his hair grow a little bit, so that it curled at the tips and covered his ears. She felt a bit disappointed about that, for she liked his pointy ears.

Suddenly Mark lifted his head and his gaze met Amelia's. For a moment she thought her heart would stop beating. She blushed a little bit and stuttered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I was just -" She paused. "I thought everyone had gone to the beach."

"I'm not the beach type." Mark's voice was low and melodic and sent shivers across Amelia's body. "Yeah, me neither."

For some seconds they just looked at each other, neither of them saying a word. Then Amelia cleared her throat. "Okay. I'll leave you alone. Sorry for disturbing you." She turned around and walked away quickly. After she had passed by some racks she stopped and pressed her hands on her chest. Her heart was beating so fast that it almost scared her. Amelia had to admit that she had hoped Mark would invite her to stay, to sit with him and to read together, but obviously he wasn't interested at all. Amelia sighed quietly and closed her eyes.

"You did not disturb me."

Startled she turned around, just to look at Mark, who was standing at the end of the rack. His slim, tall body was set against one of the windows. The light made his hair glow, making it look almost golden.

"I just wanted to say, you did not disturb me. I mean, you do not disturb me. Not at all." He seemed to feel uncomfortable, his hands were buried in the pocket of his tight jeans. "You've been here for - what, four weeks? And all this time I haven't really seen you - so, no, you're not disturbing."

Amelia felt her heart pounding against her ribs. "Five weeks."

Mark raised his eyebrows and said, "I don't want you to think you're not welcome. Because you are. All of you. It's just, I'm not that good at small talk or making new friends easily. Not like Helen or Julian. What I'm trying to say is, you do not have to leave because of me. If you're looking for a book, I can help you."

Amelia smiled shyly. "I'm good. But thanks."

He still looked at her, a little puzzled. "Your name's Mia, isn't it?"

"Actually it's Amelia", she answered and he bit his lower lip. "Sorry. But in my defense - it sounds alike."

She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "My family calls me Amy, but Mia sounds fine to me as well."

Mark returned the smile and Amelia felt her heart skip a beat. He took a deep breath and said quietly, "Okay. I'll leave you alone then. But if you need some help - you know where to find me."

"Okay. Bye." Amelia raised her hand and Mark turned around. Walking away, she could hear his voice. "Bye, Mia."

For some moments she could just stand there and stare at the place, where Mark had been standing. It was the first time he had ever talked to her more than usual. She didn't bother whether he liked her or not, whether there was fearie blood running through his veins - all Amelia knew was that she had fallen in love for the first time.