"I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

They cried–'La Belle Dame sans Merci

Hath thee in thrall!'"

–La Belle Dame sans Merci, by John Keats

New York, 2008

The apartment was packed and Niya had a hard time navigating through the rooms. If it weren't for the Shadowhunters sprinkled in with the downworlders, it would have felt like any New Orleans party she'd ever been to. Finally she located Magnus, his bright blue silk tuxedo jacket made him stand out, even among the other fabulously dressed New Yorkers.

He turned his cat eyes on her as she drew closer, and grinned. "There's my favorite future-Shadowhunter." Niya let him hug her before tugging him out onto the balcony. She looked left and right before settling down. "What has you so jumpy?"

"You have to help me hide from Maryse Lightwood," Niya begged. "I haven't seen her since, well, since I dated her son." She quickly corrected herself, "Fake dated, I mean."

Magnus laughed. "Yes, Alec told me all about that. I have to admit I was a little shocked, I thought Niya Reynaud only dated downworlders."

Niya shot him a look. "I do. I was helping out a friend." Magnus raised an eyebrow. "No one ever said I was against the concept of Shadowhunter friends. I was just waiting for the right Shadowhunter friends. The Rosewains were assholes." She made a quick cross on her chest. The Rosewains had been entirely wiped out during the Dark War. "I mean, um, may the angel watch over them, or whatever."

Magnus held up two hands. "Hey, don't censor yourself on my account. The Rosewains were assholes." He shook his head. "I honestly can't believe you're going to ascend. You, of all people."

"Ugh, I don't even want to think about it. All those bratty Shadowhunter teens? Jace was bad enough at that age, I can't even imagine dozens of them." Magnus smiled and conjured her up a drink. Niya squared her shoulders, and took a long sip. "But, it's okay. I'll get through it, and when I do there will be one more Shadowhunter looking out for the Downworld."

Magnus ruffled her hair. "That's my voodoo doll." Niya rolled her eyes at the old nickname, but she couldn't fight back her smile entirely. The past year had been hell for everyone in the Shadow World, and it was nice to pretend for a moment that nothing had changed. "Has Madame Bones finally calmed down?"

Niya groaned, remembering how upset Auntie had gotten when Niya had announced her plans to Ascend. "Oh believe me, I was walking out the door and she was still ranting about how corrupt the Clave was and how I was making a terrible mistake. But it's better than throwing the good dishes at anyone who even mentioned the S word."

"You know, she called me. She thought I was the one person who could talk some sense into you," Magnus said. "I told her to suck it up and let you go."

"No, you did not." Niya raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Of course I didn't, Madame Bones is terrifying." They both giggled. Auntie usually had that effect on people.

Niya's eyes drifted toward the skyline, and her expression darkened. "You know, Maman Brigitte warned me," Niya said, her voice so low Magnus had to lean in to hear her. "She said a boy would open the gates to the demon realm. She said he'd be worse than anyone I'd fought before."

"You couldn't have known about Sebastian, no one could have known."

Niya shrugged. "I know." She took another long sip from her glass. "But it was also a wakeup call. I owed Maman Brigitte a favor, and it was time for her to collect. When Jace called and told me the Academy was reopening, I knew that was what she'd meant."

"The mother of all loa wanted you to become a Shadowhunter?"

"Loa are faeries, even if they are separate from the courts we know of. Imagine sitting up there, wherever she is, watching faeries suffer because of the Cold Peace." Niya bit her lip. "Auntie is right, the Clave aren't the good guys. But maybe I can help change that one day."

Magnus shook his head. "You better watch your mouth when you get to Idris. Shadowhunters are notoriously anti-everything you stand for."

"In my experience, there are plenty of good ones."

"Every Shadowhunter you know has been under review by the Clave at least once in the past year," Magnus reminded her. "I wouldn't say they're the norm."

"Niya Reynaud, there you are!" Niya froze at the woman's voice behind her. "I was hoping you'd be here."

She quickly gulped down the remainder of her drink, and Magnus conjured up a refill. He mouthed, "Good luck!" before ducking back into the apartment. Niya turned around slowly to face Maryse Lightwood.

At first glance, the matriarch of the Lightwood family could be mistaken for Isabelle. But if it had been Isabelle standing behind her, Niya wouldn't have been as inclined to run. "Well, I am a guest of honor. I figured I should at least make an appearance."

Maryse clapped her hands together lightly. "I can't believe you're finally going to Ascend. From the day Alec first introduced you, I just knew you'd make an excellent Shadowhunter. I can't wait for you to prove me right."

"Thanks. I'm actually a little nervous." She didn't have to ratchet up the charm too much to make it believable. Niya really was worried about what the next two years would hold.

"Oh, don't be," Maryse said, sitting down next to Niya. "My two years at the Academy were some of the best of my life." An awkward silence passed between them, as they both remembered her time at the Academy had been mostly spent with the Circle. "I know things didn't work out between you and my son."

"That was a long time ago," Niya mumbled. No one had told Maryse the whole relationship had been an act from the beginning. She was convinced Niya had been as in the dark as the rest of them.

"I wish you'd stayed in touch more this past year, but I understand why you kept your distance." Maryse sighed. "I just want you to know, if you ever need anything you can call me. You may not be a Lightwood, but you're still a part of this family." Niya smiled, suddenly really glad Maryse had found her. She knew exactly what to say.

"Thank you, that means a lot. I promise I'll stay in touch."

Niya glanced over her shoulder. Inside Magnus was attempting a very elaborate party-trick with a stack of champagne glasses. When Niya looked back, she could've sworn Maryse had tears in her eyes. "Don't let me keep you. Like you said, you're a guest of honor. You should be in there having fun." Maryse stood up, and gave Niya one last smile, before disappearing inside.

"You know," Niya murmured to herself. "Maybe becoming a Shadowhunter isn't that crazy of an idea. You hear that, Maman? I'm sorry I doubted you."

OoOoO

Niya made her way to a quiet corner of the apartment. She turned toward a staircase, and discovered she wasn't the only one trying to get away. "What are you hiding from?" She asked the skinny brunette boy, who was sitting on the steps.

He glanced up, nudging his glasses with one hand. "Everyone mostly."

"Oh, sorry I found you then," Niya said with a smile. "Mind if I hide out with you?"

The boy shook his head, and Niya sat a few steps down. She reclined against the wall. He looked at her warily. "Have we met before?"

"I don't think so," she said. "I'm not from around here."

"Good," he said, firmly. "I mean, not good as in I'm glad we haven't met, just good as in…everyone else seems to think I've met them. But I don't remember any of that." Niya raised an eyebrow. "I'm Simon."

"Oh, that explains it." Niya laughed quietly. "The Lightwoods filled me in. It's gotta suck, losing your memory like that."

"You're telling me!" Simon shook his head. "Honestly, I'm ready to get to Idris just so I can have a moment to myself."

Niya leaned forward, propping her elbows up on the step above her. "Are you going to the Academy?" Simon nodded once and Niya beamed. "Me too!"

Simon grabbed her shoulders. "Are you kidding? Because if you're kidding, I honestly might cry."

"Not kidding. Though with every passing moment, I'm regretting the decision a little more." Niya joked. "But at least I won't be the only one who knows what movies are."

"Think of all the good jokes we can make that no one else will get."

"I'm sure we can't be the only mundanes," Niya said with a shrug. "Maybe we'll have a whole gang of pop-culture obsessed teens to torment the Nephilim."

Simon grinned. "This sounds like the plot of a terrible sci-fi movie."

"The Mysterious Television Set on Shadowhunter Island?" Niya giggled. "I'm getting some serious Agatha Christie vibes. I'm Niya, by the way. I think this is going to be a hell of a lot of fun."

Idris, 2008

Looking back, fun was not the best word to use in description of Shadowhunter Academy. In fact, in the first two hours on campus, Niya had decided it was the exact opposite of fun. For starters, she was bored out of her mind.

Auntie had portaled her halfway across the world, with a harrumph. She was still unenthused with the idea of Niya's Ascension. Talia had been only slightly better, with a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead.

She'd hiked through a charming valley by herself, and ended up outside a decrepit old gothic building where she'd firmly parked herself on the front steps. So far, eighteen Shadowhunters had walked by her, and not a one had looked in her direction. Niya was used to that, she was very good at blending in. Plus she thought her typical, all-black ensemble was fairly on-brand, so she didn't stick out like a sore thumb. Like Simon would.

Niya had been waiting on the front step for Simon's arrival for two hours, and she was starting to fall asleep. "Excuse me," a calm voice called out from the door, shaking Niya from her almost-sleep. "I believe imitating the gargoyles is quite offensive."

Niya turned to look at the blue-skinned warlock and grinned. "Catarina!" She leapt up, and nearly toppled the woman over with the force of her hug. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"I'll be teaching, actually." Catarina looked Niya over. "You've grown up so much. I can see Auntie Bones in you, you have her eyes." She paused, smirking, as they both remembered that Auntie's eyes were an unearthly silver. Niya's eyes were brown. Maybe it was just their look. "I'm sure she's thrilled with your life decisions." Catarina was one of the few warlocks Niya knew who didn't seem intimidated by Madame Bones. "Why are you sitting on the porch?"

"I was waiting on Simon," she explained. "We said we'd meet here."

"I believe one of the girls swooped him away and took him to his room," Catarina explained with a shrug. "Come, I'll show you to your room and then you can look for Simon."

Niya picked up her suitcases and followed Catarina toward the doors. The Academy itself was clearly falling apart. But Niya didn't mind, she was from New Orleans, she was used to old buildings.

"Supposedly there's a system to the room assignments, but I don't care, so you're going to stay up here." Catarina headed up a long spiral staircase that emerged in one of the towers. The warlock waved Niya into one of the vacant rooms. "I believe Mr. Lewis is just down the hall."

Catarina looked distractedly out the window. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Why did I take this job?" She shook her head, glancing back at Niya. "Excuse me, I have another mess to clean up."

OoOoO

Niya didn't find Simon until dinner that night. From the looks of the dining hall, they were some of the oldest students. Thanks to Alec, she knew there were certain things a Shadowhunter had to do before they were 18, or not at all, like getting a parabatai. Maybe Ascending was similar. She shivered, remembering that not every mundane survived their sip from the Mortal Cup.

Across the room, she spotted a table of students who looked to be about her age, and she made a beeline for them. A narrow-faced blonde took one look at her and then whispered something to the muscled boy sitting to her right. "Niya!" She jumped, and glanced over to see Simon sitting a few places down. He slid over to make room for her on the bench. "I looked for you, but this place is huge!"

"Catarina said your room is just down the hall from mine," Niya told him.

He grinned and lightly punched the boy sitting next to him. "This is the girl I mentioned, she's cool. She grew up in a voodoo shop, her mom's a werewolf."

The rest of the table had gone silent, listening to Simon talk. Niya shot him a look, but he was still focused on the other boy. "So you're staying the tower?" The blonde girl spoke up. Niya nodded. "Then I guess they're putting you with the elites."

"Of course, they are," Simon said. "She's basically a downworld encyclopedia."

"Elites?" Niya asked.

"People like us," another girl explained. This one was a brunette. "Shadowhunters mostly. Or exceptional mundanes like Simon." She smiled at him, before turning her gaze back to Niya. "Or you, I guess. I'm Beatriz."

Niya introduced herself, as did the rest of the Shadowhunters at the table. Jon Cartwright was the big guy, Julie Beauvale was the blonde, and George Lovelace was the boy sitting next to Simon. All of them were Shadowhunters. Niya wished she could melt into the wall like she had outside.

"So, you're a demon-lover, huh?" Jon asked, leaning forward on his elbows. "That's why they let you take advanced courses?"

"I also saved the world from a lunatic werewolf who wanted to set the forces of death loose on the world," Niya muttered. "But yeah, let's just go with demon-lover."

George glanced over curiously. Unlike the other Shadowhunters at the table, he didn't seem to be putting her on trial. "Sounds badass." He had an Scottish accent, Niya smiled.

"It was."

"How'd the two of you meet?" Beatriz asked, looking at Simon. She was crushing hard. Niya would've laughed it wasn't so painful to watch.

"Oh, Magnus threw us a going away party," he said with an awkward smile.

"Magnus Bane?" Julie asked, suddenly intrigued. "You know him?"

"Niya knows everyone," Simon said. He glanced over at Jon. "She's friends with Jace too, maybe you've crossed paths."

Jon suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Um, I don't know. We mostly hung out in Alicante."

"Oh, you know Jace?" Niya asked. She fixed him with her best Auntie Bones stare, the kind that could see straight into your heart. "Hmm, he never mentioned you. I'll definitely ask about you, next time I see him." Jon was squirming now, clearly afraid of being caught in a lie. Niya made a mental note to give Simon a fist-bump later.

Maybe she'd been right before, the Shadowhunter Academy might turn out to be a hell of a lot of fun after all.

OoOoO

Niya had never thought of herself as a fighter before she came to the Academy, but it turned out she had something of an affinity for it. She liked weapons, especially bows and arrows, and she could run faster than Julie Beauvale. But, she'd been on the track team, for the two years of high school she'd actually gone to, so that wasn't all that surprising.

Simon, on the other hand, did not have an affinity for anything. She spent nights tutoring him in the Shadow World knowledge he was already supposed to know, and days trying to go easy on him in sparing sessions.

"You'll find your thing eventually," Niya insisted, as they walked to the dining hall one afternoon. "We can't all be Jace Herondale."

Simon frowned. "I know you're trying to be nice, but my ass is so completely bruised from the number of times I fell on it today, and I just can't take it."

They joined the rest of their friends at their usual table. Though friends might have been too strong a word. Niya preferred to think of them as minor annoyances she had to tolerate on her road to Ascension.

In fact, Niya had hardly spoken to anyone but Simon in the weeks since arriving at the Academy. Mostly she kept to herself and tried not to stand out anymore than she already did. The Shadowhunter students hardly fazed her anymore. She'd grown deaf to their snide comments about mundanes, and anti-downworld remarks.

At least she had until Simon spoke up. "I must inform you there are werewolves worth a hundred of your and Jon's Shadowhunter asses. I must say that I am sick to the teeth of you insulting mundanes and telling me I'm your special exception, as if I want to be the pet of people who bully kids younger and weaker than they are."

Julie and Jon stared at him wide-eyed. Niya was sure her own expression mirrored theirs. As long as she'd known Simon, he'd always been the funny one. He cracked jokes and kept her smiling. This was another side she'd yet to see.

"And I must tell you, you'd better hope this Academy works out and mundanes like Niya and me Ascend, because from all I can see of you, the next generation of Shadowhunters is going to be nothing without us."

"Come on, man," George muttered, not looking up from his plate. "Don't–don't do this. They'll make you move rooms. Just sit down, and everybody can apologize, and we can go on as we were."

Niya, now engaged in the outcome of this discussion, shot George a particularly nasty look. Simon took a deep breath. "I don't want thinks to go on as they were. I want things to change." And with that, he got up, and marched right up to Dean Penhallow at the head table.

"Will they really make him move rooms?" Niya whispered, more to herself than to anyone at the table.

Niya was surprised when Beatriz, who sat next to her, cleared her throat and answered. "The dregs–um, mundanes–stay in the basement, where it's easier to defend them." Both girls watched with rapt attention as Simon talked to the Penhallow.

"It's not that I'm having difficulty," Simon told her. "It's that I'd rather not associate with the elite Shadowhunter families. I just don't think they're my kind of people."

Niya let out a single, high-pitched, laugh, which earned her a scalding look from Julie. "Oh, please, you're all elitist assholes, he's just telling the truth." For half a second she thought about her cozy tower room, and how nice it would be just to coast by under the radar for the next two years. But Talia would never approve, neither would Auntie Bones, to say nothing for Michelle and Nate, or the countless other downworlders she considered family.

Niya pushed herself up from the table. George looked panicked. "You know, I'm actually damn good at all this," she told them, shaking her head. "But in my heart I will always be a part of the downworld."

OoOoO

When Niya emerged from the tower bedroom that had formerly been hers, George was waiting for her in the hall. She rolled her suitcase to a stop in front of him. "What do you want?"

"Well, we're going the same way." He motioned down at his own bags. "Might as well walk together."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're joining the dregs?"

"It may surprise you, but that's where I've belonged this whole time," he told her. At Niya's blank expression, he continued, "I'm not a Shadowhunter. I was adopted."

"Oh," she said dumbly. "Well, I suppose you'll have to forgive me for treating you like one of them these past few weeks. You do have the look."

George preened, earning an eyeroll from Niya. He smiled. "I promise you that's where the similarities end. I'm not like them."

She shook her head with a soft smile. "I look forward to you proving me wrong."

Idris, 2009

At first Niya thought the tapping noise on her door was just rats, but then it got louder. She sat up slowly, glancing around her tiny grungy, room on the mundane floor. "Simon?" She called. "George?"

Then the door burst open and Niya let out a quiet squeak. "Izzy?"

"Yes, it's me, get up." The other girl waved Niya out of bed and started digging through the wardrobe. "Here, put this on."

"What? Where are we going?" Niya asked, but did as she was told.

"New Orleans, and we have to go now. Hurry!" Isabelle snapped.

"I'm not allowed to leave," Niya reminded her.

"Yes, I am aware, that is why I'm breaking you out." She dug her fingernails into Niya's arms and practically dragged her into the hall. "Magnus is waiting for us, he's opening a portal in the forest."

Niya came to an abrupt stop on the steps. "Isabelle, stop. What's happening? Is it Auntie?" She couldn't imagine any other reason for the urgency, or why Magnus would be opening a portal to New Orleans and instead of Madam Bones.

Isabelle's eyes got big and she grabbed Niya's hand. "Oh, by the angel. I didn't even think about that. No, Auntie Bones is fine. She's fine. In fact, we can't even tell her that we're in town, considering you're supposed to be safe here under lock and key. I am probably breaking so many laws for this."

"Shadowhunters have too many damn laws," Niya muttered. Isabelle nodded her agreement before tugging Niya out into the night. They made it to the edge of the forest where Magnus urged them into the trees.

Niya crossed her arms while she watched Magnus work on the portal. "Listen, if I'm going to risk getting kicked out of the Academy, one of y'all better tell me what the hell is going on."

"It's your mom," Isabelle started. At Niya's horrified expression, she quickly amended, "Talia is fine! Ugh, I'm so not good at this." She wiggled something out of her pocket and stuffed it in Niya's hand.

It was a postcard, one of those cheesy tourist ones with the Mardi Gras banners around the edges. The photograph in the middle was of St. Louis Cathedral. Niya flipped it over and recognized Talia's messy handwriting right away. "It's time she knows the truth." Niya glanced between Magnus and Isabelle. "What truth?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Isabelle said with a shrug. "And before you freak, obviously it's serious if your werewolf mom is sending postcards to the New York Institute."

Niya couldn't think up any good arguments against going, so she just nodded and followed Izzy through the portal. They came out right in the middle of Jackson Square. The sun was just beginning to set. It was the middle of the week, so the streets weren't too crowded and it was late enough that the gates were locked. They were alone.

They hurried over to the gate, which Isabelle unlocked with an opening rune, and they headed across the street to the Cathedral. Niya frowned as she looked up at the building. "I don't suppose you have any ideas where to start looking. It's an old church, I'm sure there are a lot of secrets here."

"Remember last time I was here, it was supposed to just be fun and then-"

"And then a warlock showed up at Carmen's party claiming we were being attacked by voudun zombies?"

"Yeah, and then that one vampire called Cuidad de los Muertos sacrilegious and blamed Madam Bones and suddenly Luling Mansion was a war zone." They both shuddered. "Anyway, after that I talked to the Rosewains about where the Institute's weapon stashes were, just in case we ever needed them. Turns out that there's one in the loft."

Magnus raised a hand, and the girls looked over at him. "Question. Are voudun zombies a real thing? Because I have been around for, well, some time, and I've heard conflicting opinions."

Niya grinned. "Oh yeah, super real. But as far as I know they only live out in the bayou, and they're harmless. For the most part."

"You would think a local warlock would know that," Isabelle mused, unlocking the door to the church.

"Apparently he was dating one of the selkies, but she caught him cheating on her with Carmen's right hand girl," Niya explained. "So she slipped him some nasty faerie drug and he flipped his shit."

Magnus sighed wistfully. "Sometimes I really do miss the New Orleans Downworld."

"Come on, secret stash is up here." Isabelle waved for them to follow her up the spiral staircase to the upper floors.

"I don't understand how my mother would have known about this place," Niya mumbled as they headed down the hall. Isabelle just gave her a look, but didn't say anything. She pushed open a door, revealing a cluttered and dusty storage room.

Niya felt like the air had just been knocked out of her. "Did y'all feel that?" Magnus and Isabelle shared a look. "I'm taking that as a decisive no." Niya headed toward the stained glass windows that illuminated the space. Then she dropped to her knees, her fingers instinctively digging around for loose floorboards. Finally she found one.

Her breath caught again when she saw the folded yellow paper sitting on top. Her name was printed in perfectly written cursive, far too pretty to be her mother's messy script. "Wait," Magnus called, but before he could stop her, Niya had already flipped open the letter. The air around her took on a shimmering quality, and suddenly Niya felt like she was floating. She turned around to look for Isabelle and Magnus, but they were gone.

New Orleans, 1990

Niya recognized the house she was in immediately, she'd been there a half-dozen times. It belonged to Lady Mirah of the Seelie Court. Mirah hardly attended any other parties hosted by the city's downworld, but every Mardi Gras she opened the doors to her beautiful Esplanade Ridge manor.

Mirah's masquerade balls were arguably the best of the season, though Carmen and her vampires would disagree. Admittedly Niya loved them all, but there was something special about Mirah's ball. Maybe it was the secrecy of it, the hand written invitations that cast shimmering images in your head. The only way to know the date and time was through a pretty artificial memory cast by faerie magic.

A woman brushed past Niya and headed up the grand staircase. Her dress was shockingly purple, with rows and rows of shimmering organdy ruffles. It had the potential to be the most hideous dress Niya had ever seen, but somehow on the woman's smooth dark skin, it looked like magic.

The woman stopped at the top of the stairs, looking down at the crowd below. The guests around Niya slowly came into focus and she realized most of them were dressed in a similar fashion, as if they were at a 90s costume party. Niya locked onto the woman's mask, it was black satin lined with lace, and curls of silver spiraled away from the edges. She knew that mask; she'd worn that mask. Madam Bones had passed it down to Talia. It had belonged to one of Niya's great-grandparents who lived with Auntie, years before Talia's grandmother chose to move out to the bayou. Once again, Niya felt like the air had been knocked out of her.

"The night I met your mother, I thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever met." Niya startled at the man's voice. She turned to see a tall man in a suit. He was wearing a half-mask that entirely hid the left side of his face, including his eye.

Niya wondered what her mother could see from the balcony. Talia hadn't been born with the sight, but most of the New Orleans downworld didn't bother with glamours. Everyone in the city, tourists and locals alike, expected to see weird occurrences. Most mundanes would just file it away as costumes or magic tricks, but Talia Reynaud knew better.

Still, some downworlders preferred to hide certain features about themselves. Warlocks with brightly colored skin tended to glamour it away most days, even at a party such as this. Red-eyed Lucent Muriel hid her eye color sometimes, just so it wouldn't clash with her outfits. To Talia, those little details would be hidden, but to Niya they were plain as day if she just focused a little.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the man with the half mask head up the staircase. Niya took one last wistful look at the party, before darting after him.

"How is it a woman as striking as you alone?" The man said, Niya jumped again, before realizing he wasn't talking to her anymore.

Talia looked over at him. Her brown eyes were sad, though she flashed a smile. "I was with Deveaux, but he left." Niya knew the name, he was High Warlock of Atlanta now, but he'd been around a lot when she was a kid. "We got in a fight."

When Niya was really young, and didn't understand how Downworlders worked, she had thought Deveaux could have been her father. Of course she knew now that was impossible, but he had fit the profile: white and tall. Not that those features were a lot to go on, but they were the only two clues she had.

"It appears you could use new company," the masked man said with a smile. "Would you like a drink?"

Talia glanced down at the crowd, as if still holding out hope her date would return, and then finally nodded. "Sure, bring me one of the purple ones, and a silver one as a chaser." Niya couldn't remember what the colors meant, but Talia spoke as if she'd tried them all and was used to their effects.

Niya was tempted to stay with her mother, but instead followed the man. He also fit the profile. His one visible eye was bright blue, Niya tried to imagine what she would look like with blue eyes. When she got a little closer, she noticed they had the same face shape. Talia's face was all soft lines, while Niya had high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Other than that, she couldn't see the similarities.

The man reached for two glasses on the tray. When he did, the sleeve of his tuxedo rode up, exposing his wrist. Niya gasped. Hidden beneath the fabric were runes, or at least the scars of runes. They looked like old scars too, not the silvery easy to spot ridges on Isabelle or Jace. These were hardly visible, just tiny lines of discoloration. If she hadn't been staring, she wouldn't have noticed them.

The man with the half-mask was a Shadowhunter, or at least he had been a Shadowhunter. Niya looked back her mother. Talia was watching the man. Did she know? Probably not.

Niya felt frozen in place as she watched the man return to Talia's side. Her mother knocked back both the drinks and smiled, a silver shimmer staining her lips. "I didn't catch your name."

"Thomas," he told her.

Talia raised an eyebrow. She looked so much like her daughter in that moment that Niya felt her heart squeeze. "No last name? You faeries are so mysterious."

OoOoO

Niya's stomach churned as the vision sped up. She jolted to a stop in the hallway, nearly losing her balance as the world came back into focus around her. Outside a closed door, she could hear noises she recognized all too well. Her nose scrunched up. "So did not need to hear this," she muttered.

A breeze from down the hall blew her hair back from her face, and Lady Mirah appeared. Niya had only ever seen the faerie from a distance. She looked like spring incarnate, with lilac hair and golden eyes. She always wore some timeless fashion, made entirely out of blossoming flowers. Up close she was even more breathtaking.

But it was clear that she was upset, and a frown pulled at her delicate features. She stopped just in front of Niya, and laid a hand upon the door. For a moment Mirah's expression softened and she just looked sad. Then she pushed the door open with a thought, spilling light into the dark room.

Talia and Thomas were intertwined in each other and the covers. Niya fought the urge to run away. She had to know what happened next. Talia looked terrified, and Niya didn't blame her in the slightest. It wasn't every day Lady Mirah of the Seelie Court barged in on you hooking up with a hot faerie in her mansion.

"Thomas of the Wild Hunt," Mirah called, her voice was soft as rose petals, but her tone was harsh. "You have overstayed your welcome, and I not have the Hunter barging into my home to reclaim you. His message has been delivered and now you must go."

She turned on her heel, lilac hair flying in her wake, and disappeared down the hall without another word. The door remained open, casting Talia's face in the light. Her lips were parted in confusion, but as she took in his scars, her lips pulled into a sneer. "You're one of them."

The way Talia untangled herself and leapt from the bed with such grace, Niya might have thought she was a Shadowhunter herself. "Talia, please. I can explain."

"No, I don't want to hear it," Talia hissed. "Shadowhunters have no place here, whether or not they have faerie blood. Go back to the Hunt. I'm sure you belong there." Thomas took a step back as if he'd been slapped. Talia turned toward the window, overlooking the city, without another word.

OoOoO

The vision shifted again, and Niya squeezed her eyes shut as she was launched from one place to another. When she felt stable enough to open her eyes, they were in Jackson Square.

It was fall. The leaves were changing color. The Square looked so beautiful it made tears spring to Niya's eyes. The seasons had changed without her this year, when she'd returned for break the leaves had fallen and everything was just grey.

The chill in the air did nothing to deter the people who crowded the streets, tourists and locals alike. They weaved between the stalls of painters and craftsmen, occasionally pausing to take in a street performer. Talia Reynaud was one of them. She paused at the corner, particularly entranced by a musician singing an old blues song.

Her hand drifted to her very pregnant belly, and she smiled. "You like this song too, don't you, baby girl? You've got good taste." Talia moved on, happy, and carefree.

The scene shifted and Niya was back in the loft of St. Louis Cathedral. Thomas stood at the window, watching Talia down below. Without his half-mask, Niya could see his eyes. The one that had been concealed was deep silver.

Mirah stood at his side, looking decidedly out of place among the dust and clutter. "You have doomed that child," she told him. She didn't sound angry anymore, just tired and maybe a little sad.

"She won't know," Thomas murmured. "Talia made that perfectly clear. Niya will grow up a mundane. It's for the best. Talia thinks the only thing she has to fear is Shadowhunters snatching her away in the night." He shook his head. "The rest of it, either she didn't hear or she's choosing to ignore."

"That may change when her daughter is born with pointed ears," Mirah challenged.

Thomas touched his own stunted ears. "Bones says she won't be, too much non-faerie blood in the line."

The lilac-haired beauty shot him a look. "Do not be difficult, Thomas. One day Niya will know, it is unavoidable. And when she knows, he will not be far behind. Raising her as a mundane offers no protection. The Institute may be able to–"

"Talia would sooner place Niya in the Queen's lap."

"Perhaps that is not such a bad idea."

Thomas frowned. "Thank you for helping me, Mirah. For all those years. If it weren't for you, my life would have been taken from me a long time ago."

"I will demand your release again next year as I have done every year since, and Gwyn will be obliged to send you with his response." The shared a look. It was obvious what his response always was. "It may be for only one night, but for that night you may see her."

"It's better if I don't."

"You will never be able to stay away." Mirah smirked. "And this way I can keep you out of trouble."

"Watch over her, will you?"

"You know I spend little time in this world, Thomas. The warlock will protect her more than I ever could, and she is family. I am only an old friend."

Thomas slung a bag off his shoulder. "Then pass on a message for me. One day, when Talia has forgiven me, and if it's safe for Niya to know, tell her I left her a letter."

"It may never be safe."

He looked at the bag again and sighed. "That is why I am leaving more than just a letter."

New Orleans, 2009

Niya gasped in air as if she'd drowning. Magnus grabbed her shoulders, looking her over. "Faerie magic," she blurted, though she was sure they'd figured that out already. "My father was a faerie."

Isabelle and Magnus shared a look; Niya realized Isabelle was holding onto the letter now. Whatever it said, they'd already read it. Isabelle nodded, and held out the paper. "We know, we read the letter." Niya scanned it over, it was the same story she'd just seen play out in front of her. "Look at the name."

She read it. Then she read it again. She looked between Isabelle and Magnus, hoping one of them had an explanation. "Thomas Lightwood?"

"We called Alec while you were out," Magnus started.

"You were out for a while," Isabelle inserted.

Magnus shot Isabelle a look, and rubbed Niya's arms soothingly. "He took a look at some of the old Lightwood family books at the Institute. In the 19th century, there were several Lightwood siblings. I remember them, faintly. Gabriel was an ancestor of Alec and Isabelle, Tatiana married into the Blackthorn family, and Gideon's family…well they were lost to history."

Niya narrowed her eyes. "Lost as in sunk in the Bermuda Triangle, or?"

"We don't know, the family tree just ended with Gideon's kids," Isabelle explained. "He had three, but we don't know what happened to them. Alec says he'll talk to mom maybe they can piece things together." Niya made a face. "Isn't that kinda weird that you dated your cousin?"

"Alec and I did not date, we pretended to date. You know this."

Isabelle shrugged. "Still kinda weird."

"There's something else," Magnus said. He opened the box under the letter, and pushed back the fabric. The moonlight reflected off the silver. Niya gasped, her hands darting toward it as if drawn by magnets.

It was a bow, beautiful and elegant like it was made of liquid light. There were runes carved into the metal, some Niya recognized, like the one for accuracy, but some were new. "It's adamas," Isabelle said quietly. "I've never seen anything like it."

There was a quiver of arrows too, each one made from solid adamas just like the bow. "This was my dad's," Niya whispered.

"Alec is going to be so jealous."