Chapter 1
The "true" stories about demons had been told for decades. As far as Clarissa Fairchild, otherwise known as Clary, knew, her mother's parents had warned her mother about demons, and her parents' parents had warned them, and their parents' parents had warned them and so on. Every year in the two months before winter—October and November—the legend says that the demons come out on every Monday of each week and don't leave until Wednesday. Experiences of utter terror and pain had always been told of people who didn't hide on the days of diebus daemonium horror.
No one really knows when it started, and people say that it will probably never end. Many homes have been ravaged and many people have been killed. Some people believe that it is God's way of making sure humans follow his path; others ruminate that it is a way of punishment. Either way the tales of the demons are becoming more and more pressing and insistent.
That's not what this is about, though. While the demons are very important to this story, they aren't the actual story itself. Clary never believed in the demons. She had always been very suspicious of conspiracies. She was a reader and a painter. She looked past the stories and words and delved into a different world, one that wasn't so black and white. Although she didn't believe in the demons, she still hid in the room her mother had made just for diebus daemonium horror every Monday through Wednesday until winter came.
This year it seemed different. People were hiding out sooner. Instead of being scared to go out in just October and November, the people barely went out in September. Clary never thought much of it—just something else to take control of the town of Idris. Jocelyn, Clary's mother began shoving Clary into what they called the safe room in mid-September.
It was October now, and Clary would spend more than half of every week in the safe room. She wasn't used to not going out this much, and she was suffering from not seeing two of her closest friends in town. William Herondale and James Carstairs, better known as Will and Jem, had been her best friends since Clary was a little girl. The three of them always managed to get into some type of trouble, and, even though Jem always tried to be the voice of reason, always got caught too.
Everyone in town loved the three of them, though. All of their families were from the poorer part of town, but they managed to survive because the middle and upper classes always would bring their families food and things that each family was sorely lacking. But, of course, the three friends had more in common than their financial standings. Each one had lost someone dear to him and her, and in Jem's and Clary's case, they lost two people dear to them. Jem had lost both of his parents to the demons when he was really young, and Clary lost her father under the same conditions before she was even a year old. Will's sister Ella was killed just five years before now, but her case was different. She was stabbed during diebus daemonium horror—a mystery that had never been solved. Clary's brother Jonathan disappeared just two years after that, which was probably the reason Clary's mother had become so protective.
The demons weren't the only things that haunted Idris, though. Men would ransack the town and kidnap young girls and boys. Clary had assumed that was what took her brother; she also assumed one of the men were the ones responsible for Ella's death. Knowing Ella's attitude, she probably resisted, and that never went over well with these men. Clary hated these men more than anything. They were known as Shadowhunters, and she was especially scared of her chances of disappearing along with many others because of them.
It was Friday in the middle of October, and Clary was helping her mother in the kitchen of their small house. Jocelyn Fairchild was a tall, lean woman with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes. She seemed frail, but Clary knew she was otherwise. There were many times that Clary had almost been taken, but Jocelyn refused to lose her only daughter. Jocelyn worked hard for what they had, but it never seemed to be enough because bartering with the people in town was usually impossible.
Clary resembled her mother so much that sometimes she was mistaken for her mother in town. Her own fiery red hair was slightly curlier than her mother's, which was always styled naturally in soft waves. Their green eyes were identical, and although Clary was more than a few inches shorter than her mother, their similarities were too noticeable to ignore.
"Honey," Jocelyn started as she cut a potato into small cubes. Clary looked up from adding spices in a pot on their makeshift stove. When Jocelyn realized she had Clary's attention, she continued, "We're almost out of carrots. Would you like to run to the market and pick up some more? I know you haven't seen Will or Jem since the other week…"
Clary dropped the spoon she was holding on the counter and had her apron ripped off before her mother could finish talking. She smiled gratefully at Jocelyn, mentally thanking her for the opportunity to see Will and Jem. Clary truly missed Will and Jem now more than ever. When they were younger they were inseparable, and with the changes that the new diebus daemonium horror had brought on the town, Clary felt like she was missing a piece of herself. They had met when they were only four and five years old. Now, Clary was sixteen—almost seventeen, she constantly reminded her mother of the fact—and the boys were both seventeen. Their relationship hadn't changed any, but Clary felt like the distance between them was a bad omen, and she hated the feeling she had when she wasn't around them.
"Thanks Mom! I have some copper in my room that I could trade for a few carrots. I promise I won't be long!" She rushed a quick kiss on her mother's cheek and ran to her room to slip on some shoes and grab the copper. She waved to Jocelyn before dashing out the door, not shutting it behind her so her mother could catch a draft in the overheated kitchen.
Clary took her time walking through the town. It had been awhile since Jocelyn had let her leave the house alone, and Clary made sure to bask in the glory because she knew by Sunday that she'd be locked in the tiny room her mother thought would keep her safe. As she walked, she didn't speak to anyone; instead, she just watched them, analyzing the way everyone still seemed to be on edge even though it was Friday. The town didn't look too great—trash and broken glass littered the cobblestone streets and a few houses that seemed perfectly fine just months ago were crumbling down.
For once, Clary began to doubt her theories on the demons, and for a quick, fleeting moment, she almost believed that maybe there were demons. "Clarissa, you shouldn't be out." A voice whispered from a dark alleyway. Clary didn't react, knowing fully well that it was just Madame Dorothea, a pretend psychic that many people in the town avoided like the plague because they actually believed her predictions. Clary was sadly, and not surprisingly, not a believer, but she tried not to seem too rude to the old lady who always tried to pull Clary into her dark alleyway any time she was out.
"Hey, Madame Dorothea," Clary greeted awkwardly, remaining in the sunlight and away from the mouth of the alley.
"Don't sound so happy to see me, dear." Madame Dorothea whispered huskily, watching Clary slide away from her. Her badger-striped hair fell around her head, framing her face, instead of in her usual messy bun. The gold chains she wore around her wrists and throat clinked together and made soft tingling sounds when she moved.
"I'm sorry. I'm just in a rush." Clary apologized quickly, afraid that Madame Dorothea would approach her mother. Clary would never hear the end of that one. She almost giggled at the image painted in her mind of that scene, but she held the ridiculous idea back when she noticed Madame Dorothea grow disarmingly still.
Mechanically, she stood up, not bothering to push the skirts of her dress away from the ground. She dragged slowly towards Clary, her eyes strangely empty. Clary backed away but not before Madame Dorothea encircled Clary's wrist in a vice-like grip. Clary struggled for a moment, but she froze in panic when she met eyes with the old woman before her.
"I said you shouldn't be out, Clarissa Fairchild. You're in danger." Her voice was hollow-sounding as she stared at Clary for a brief moment, and Clary hoped dearly that it was over, but Madame Dorothea opened her mouth again. "Tonight is your last night here. Better say your goodbyes."
Then her eyes unclouded and she released Clary instantly. She covered her eyes from the brightness of the sun and glanced around her swiftly. "I'm afraid I just blacked out for a moment there… Are you all right, dear?"
Clary's eyes seemed to widen more in fear when she realized that Madame Dorothea was being serious. For once, she wasn't playing psychic, and that frightened Clary more than any of the stories of demons and Shadowhunters ever had.
"Yeah, I, uh, I need t-to go!" Clary stuttered out before spinning around and running towards Will's and Jem's house.
When she finally made it over to Will's and Jem's side of town, she had to rest her hands on her knees. Her breaths came out quick and short, not allowing enough oxygen to flow into her body. She had never been afraid of Madame Dorothea's predictions because they had never come true, but in that moment, with Madame Dorothea's hand wrapped around Clary's wrist, Madame Dorothea seemed like a completely different person. Clary shuddered as her words ran through her mind again. Tonight is your last night here. She was beginning to see black dots in the field of her vision when a voice broke through her thoughts.
"Clary?" Under normal circumstances, the voice would've instantly comforted her, but she felt like she might possibly be going insane.
She spun around and leaped towards Jem, holding onto him for dear life. Jem was probably a good foot taller than her, give or take a couple inches. His silky, silver hair framed his slim face with an innocent perfection. His silver eyes watched her carefully, but they were full of compassion and love for the small girl wrapped around him. The two were like siblings, even more so after Jonathan had disappeared. After a moment, he wrapped his arms around her and guided the two of them towards the bench in the small garden by his and Will's house.
His lean frame wasn't the most threatening whenever it came down to a fight, but Clary took great comfort in the safety he brought her. She leaned into his body as they sat down. She didn't realize she was shaking with sobs until the tears began to fall on her lap, and she was surprised to find them there. She hadn't cried since Jonathan had disappeared, but for once she was absolutely terrified. Things in the town had become too peculiar for even Clary to ignore.
"What's wrong with her?" Clary wasn't surprised at the harshness of the voice from behind Jem and herself, but she knew not to be offended. That was Will's only was to show affection: his crassness was never wasted on a nobody.
She and Jem turned to meet Will's tumultuous blue eyes, and Clary stopped short. She always had to catch her breath when she looked at Will. Will was devastatingly handsome in a way to which no other boy in town could possibly ever amount. His dark brown hair that seemed almost black curled around his temples, ears, and neck, caressing the surface the way many girls their age would like to. He had high cheekbones that were highlighted by his long eyelashes. He was more muscular than Jem but not in a way that made Jem look tiny. Will was the same height as Jem which consequently made Clary feel like an elf every time she was with the boys.
Jem jostled Clary by nudging her shoulder, and she realized that the two boys were waiting for her to explain what was wrong. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her old dress and launched into the story about what had just happened with Madame Dorothea. She knew they would probably laugh it off, just like Clary would've in the past, but they didn't see the way Madame Dorothea looked at Clary in that moment. "And then she said, 'Tonight is your last night here. Better say your goodbyes.'" Clary whimpered the last words. Her tears had cleared and all that was left was a dull ache in her head and neck.
Both of their reactions were exactly what she expected them to be. Will laughed loudly, resting one of his hands against the tree next to the bench Jem and she sat on. Jem squeezed her hand sympathetically before shooting Will a glare. Will instantly stopped laughing, but a smile still graced his lips. "Clary, she's not even a real psychic." Will said softly as he joined Jem and Clary on the bench.
"I know that!" Clary exclaimed as she stood up. She paced in front of the boys in agitation, and their eyes followed her as she looked away from them. "This time it was different. She didn't even look like herself, and then she didn't even remember what had happened. She said she blacked out!"
"You seriously cannot believe that!" Will chuckled as he shook his head. "There's no way she could predict something like that. She can't even predict her next meal… how could she predict your death?" He was grinning ruefully at Clary, enjoying the way her face was growing continuously redder by the second.
"Of course you wouldn't take this seriously. You don't take anything seriously." Clary retorted bitingly.
Will sobered up quickly. No trace of a smile or laugh was left on his face. Jem knew all too well what was coming next. Clary and Will were so ridiculously tormented by their feelings for each other that their relationship was literally a mess. They would be inseparable one minute and in the next they would be fighting just to draw blood. Jem waited patiently for the storm to pass.
"You're so immature. What happened to not believing in this stuff?"
"Take a look around you, William. This is nothing like what it used to be. Even if it isn't the demons or whatever, it is something! Something is happening in Idris, and now I have a death omen hanging over my head. How am I supposed to just ignore that?!"
Will opened his mouth to reply, but instead of his voice, a shrill shriek was heard from a few houses over. Clary jerked in fear as Jem and Will both shot up from their seats on the bench. They watched as a young woman ran down the cobblestone street, her dress ragged and torn and blood trailing from her arms.
"What happened?" Will shouted towards her, not really expecting a response.
The woman paused and stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. "The Shadowhunters… they're here again." She spoke evenly, but it was obvious she was scared. "They're after something. You need to hide." Then she turned and continued to run down the street.
Clary could hear it now… more screams sounded in the distance, the crackle of a fire burning, and gunshots. "Will—" she breathed in fear.
"Don't say it. Come on!" Will's face was determined as he grabbed Clary's hand, and the three of them took off towards Clary's house. Her mother's safe room was the safest place for all of them, but the distance they had to cover seemed alarmingly impossible. Clary let out an involuntary cry at the thought. Will stilled at the sound of Clary's whimper. He grabbed her face in his hands and whispered fiercely, "Listen to me… you are going to be fine. Nothing is going to happen to you. We're going to hide at your house and this will all pass."
"But, Will—" Clary started, flinching from the sound of a building crumbling to the ground. The whole town was in chaos around them.
"Guys, we don't have time for this." Jem muttered uneasily. Another scream erupted from just a few streets down.
Will didn't say anything as he took Clary's hand again. The three of them wound through the streets of Idris, avoiding all signs of destruction in hopes of not running into any Shadowhunters. They hid behind a barn a couple of streets away from Clary's house when they saw a group of Shadowhunters searching a house. Clary whipped her head towards the house when she heard another scream. She watched as two men pulled a girl out of the house. They were taking her with them.
"When they pass the barn, we take off towards Clary's house, okay? No more detours. The longer we take to get there, the more chances there are of one of us getting hurt." Will whispered it to Jem and Clary as he watched the dark-haired girl struggle against the Shadowhunters. Instantly, he thought of Ella, who probably fought just like this girl currently was fighting against them. She spat insults at the men and cursed at them with such a vehemence, Will wondered if they would just kill her right there, but they continued to drag her past the building towards the shore where their ship was probably waiting for them.
When they were far enough away, Will decided it was safe for them to run. He took off running, and he could hear Clary and Jem right on his heels. The sounds of gunshots filled the air, and Will fought the urge to duck every time another shot was fired. They would make it to Clary's house, and everything would be fine. He didn't want to admit that Madame Dorothea's prediction scared him too, and the sooner they were locked inside a house, the better.
Before they could cross another street, the bakery on the corner crumbled and blocked the street that led directly to Clary's house. Clary gasped and stopped running immediately as she watched more people run past the trio. Jem leaned against the building, gripping his side. "Are you okay, Jem?" She noticed him wince when he applied pressure to his side, and instantly realization dawned on her. "Were you shot?" Gently, she pulled his hand away from his side, and sure enough, blood was welling through his white shirt.
"I'm fine." Jem batted her hand away and tried to stand up straight. He instantly paled and slumped back against the building.
"Will…" Clary breathed softly as she helped Jem stand straight.
Will spun around, eyes wide and hands in his hair. His eyes flickered to Clary and Jem and then back to Clary. "Damn. Damn. Damn." he mumbled the words and continued to muss his hair in agitation.
"I'm fine," Jem choked out as he leaned against Clary instead of the wall. "Let's just get to Clary's house. Her mom can help." His voice sounded watery, and Clary began to tear up as he pulled the two of them next to Will.
"How are we going to get to my house?" Clary asked as she eyed the crumbled foundation of the bakery.
"We'll have to pick our way past it. It's the only clear shot to your house." Will answered immediately.
Together the three of them dashed across the street and began looking for a place to crawl through. Will picked up multiple pieces of burnt wood and threw them behind him with ease, making a path for them to climb over. Then Jem began to mutter something. Clary heard him repeat her name over and over again. She turned to face him and followed the line of sight his eyes were trained on, and then she froze. Two Shadowhunters were staring at the three of them eagerly. They were both dressed in all black with only their hands, neck, and bottom of their faces showing. They each wore a mask that covered half of their faces.
Slowly, the two Shadowhunters began to make their way towards the trio. Clary spun back around and grabbed Will in fear. "Shadowhunters are coming this way."
Will stopped his progress with the wood and faced Clary, fear apparent on his face. He swallowed thickly, and Clary watched how his throat bobbed with the action. "Jem and I are going to hold them off. I've managed to get a small trail made for you. Go straight to your house and hide."
"Will!" Clary gasped as she gripped his sleeve. "I can't leave you two! Come with me."
"We can't. Jem will slow us down, and we'll be easier to track with all three of us. At least this way, you can make it to your house without being caught." Will glanced back at the Shadowhunters who were closing the distance between them.
Clary began to cry. "What's the point? Today is my last day here! Madame Dorothea was right."
Will pulled her into his chest and brushed the hair away from her face. "Not if Jem and I have anything to do about it. Now, hurry and run home. Jem and I will be there soon." Will pushed Clary towards the small path he had created. Clary turned around and gazed at Will, who had turned to face the Shadowhunters. His frame was lit by the slow dimming of the sun as it met the horizon.
She realized with a deep pang of sadness that this was probably the last time she would see her best friends. Madame Dorothea had made her first correct prediction, and she didn't even know it. Clary reached out and grabbed Will's wrist. He spun around in surprise, but she didn't wait for him to yell at her. She kissed his cheek quickly and muttered, "I love you. Tell Jem I love him too."
Then she spun around and began to climb through the wood and away from her two closest friends.
