The scream Jasmine had heard earlier was still ringing in her ears when she and her companions made their way back through the Bone City. A few weeks ago, she might have thought that she was going mad; that she was imagining things. But she knew better now. It seemed as though nothing was a coincidence anymore. She glanced at Jace, whose eyes were distant as Alec half-carried him down to the pavilion. It worried Jasmine, especially since he was looking paler than a pillow case.

His expression changed from blank to horrified suddenly, and when Jasmine followed his gaze with her eyes, she realized that he was looking at the thick smear of blood on the wall she had passed earlier.

"Jace," said Clary. "Don't look."

Jasmine found the redhead's concern for her brother admirable, though unnecessary. Jace was a Shadowhunter—a remarkable one at that. While it was true Jasmine did not have the stomach for blood and gore, but she wasn't the greatest Shadowhunter to begin with. Jace was sure to be able to handle it.

The blonde shook his head. "Something feels wrong—"

"Everything feels wrong here," interrupted Alec. He nodded his head in the direction of the arches that led away from the pavilion. "That's the fastest way out of here. Let's go."

Jasmine's neck and shoulders were the tightest they had been in a while; being levels and levels underground made her feel as though she was suffocating. She guessed that that was a human reaction. She was happy to have found a way out of that place, regardless of whatever reason she might have for feeling trapped. The Bone City was even worse than she had imagined it to be. It was dark and creepy and it reminded Jasmine of a gigantic coffin, which wasn't a very far-off thought. The ashes of many dead Shadowhunters were stored there.

A bright light poured in from the exit, startling Jasmine as much as it confused her companions.

"The sun couldn't have risen yet—could it?" said Isabelle, blinking in surprise. "How long were we down here?"

Alec looked down at his watch. "Not that long," he said. Jace muttered something under his breath, and Alec glanced at him. "What did you say?"

"Witchlight," Jace said again.

Jasmine frowned. "Witchlight?"

Isabelle rushed up the last couple of steps, Clary just behind her. Alec struggled to half-carry Jace along, and Jasmine mounted the stairs last, her eyes on Jace's back in case either he or Alec needed an extra hand.

Once at the top of the stairs, Jasmine noticed the rigidness in her companions' postures. She had to peek around Jace's shoulder to see what they were so tense about.

The courtyard was full of Shadowhunters of all different ages and races—a good twenty of them, staring with curious, confused and fierce expressions. Each of them was Marked, and held a witchlight stone in their hand. "By the Angel," said a dark-skinned man, who stood amid the pool of hunters. "Maryse—there was already someone down there."

Maryse, Jasmine thought, her eyes scanning the crowd for the woman whom she had once thought was her aunt. And there she was, dressed in battle gear, looking more like Isabelle than Jasmine had thought she would. The woman's lips thinned into a white line.

"I know, Malik," said Maryse. "these are my children."

Gasps and mutters were heard, and Jasmine realized from the looks on the faces of Alec, Jace and Isabelle that a lot of the Shadowhunters there were familiar to them. Jasmine couldn't say the same. This was the New York Conclave—she had never seen most of the people there. The Amsterdam Conclave was a bunch she knew well.

"By the Angel," said Maryse incredulously, looking at Isabelle, then Alec, then Jace, and then Clary. Finally, she glanced at Jasmine, and her eyes flashed. She looked away quickly. Jace moved away from Alec and the rest of them, his hands in his pockets. Alec took out his phone and messed with it, startling a frown out of Clary. "What are you doing here, Alec? Isabelle? There was a distress call from the Silent City—"

"We answered it," Alec said, interrupting his mother. He fidgeted anxiously. "You weren't at the Institute—and we couldn't raise anyone—so we came ourselves."

"Alec—"

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Alec said. "They're dead. The Silent Brothers. They're all dead. They've been murdered."

The crowd went very still, reminding Jasmine of the calm before a storm.

"Dead?" Maryse asked. "What do you mean, they're dead?"

"I think it's quite clear what he means." It was the Inquisitor who stepped forward, the corners of her eyes were crinkled with a fierce kind of curiosity. "They are all dead?" she asked."You found no one alive in the City?"

Alec shook his head. "Not that we saw, Inquisitor."

"That you saw," repeated the Inquisitor. She turned to Maryse. "There may yet be survivors. I would send your people into the City for a thorough check."

"Very well," said Maryse firmly. She turned to Malik and said something to him in a low voice. He nodded and led the Shadowhunters down into the Silent City. The light in the courtyard dimmed a little with every Shadowhunter who followed.

Maryse spoke. "Why would anyone murder the Silent Brothers? They're not warriors, they don't carry battle Marks—"

"Don't be naive, Maryse," spat the Inquisitor. "This was no random attack. The Silent Brothers may not be warriors, but they are primarily guardians, and very good at their jobs. Not to mention hard to kill. Someone wanted something from the Bone City and was willing to kill the Silent Brothers to get it. This was premeditated."

"What makes you so sure?"

"That wild goose chase that called us all out to Central Park? The dead fey child?"

"I wouldn't call that a wild goose chase. The fey child was drained of blood, like the warlock. These killings could cause serious trouble between the Night Children and other Downworlders—" Maryse was interrupted by the Inquisitor's dismissive tone.

"Distractions," said the older woman. "He wanted us gone from the Institute so that no one would respond to the Brothers when they called for aid. Ingenious, really. But then he always was ingenious."

"He?" said Isabelle, having paled considerably. "You mean—"

"Valentine," said Jace. "Valentine took the Mortal Sword. That's why he killed the Silent Brothers."

Jasmine hugged herself when a shiver crawled up her spine. "Was Amir with him?" she asked. Jace shook his head. "Why didn't you tell us Valentine was here?"

"Nobody asked."

Jasmine made a face at him.

"He couldn't have killed the Brothers. They were torn apart. No one person could have done all that," said Alec.

"He probably had demonic help," said the Inquisitor in disgust. "He's used demons to aid him before. And with the protection of the Cup on him, he could summon some very dangerous creatures. More dangerous than Raveners. Or the pathetic Forsaken."

"I don't know about that." Jace's cheeks were flushed, his eyes feverish. "But it was Valentine. I saw him. In fact, he had the Sword with him when he came down to the cells and taunted me through the bars. It was like a bad movie, except he didn't actually twirl his mustache."

"So you're saying that Valentine told you all this? He told you he killed the Silent Brothers because he wanted the Angel's Sword?" asked the Inquisitor.

"What else did he tell you? Did he tell you where he was going? What he plans to do with the two Mortal Instruments?" Maryse asked quickly. Jace shook his head and swayed slightly on his feet, which nobody seemed to notice. Jasmine did. She went to stand at his side, worried that he might collapse or fall over at any second.

"I don't believe you," said the Inquisitor, taking a step towards Jace.

Jace only blinked. "I didn't think you would."

"I doubt the Clave will believe you either."

Alec sucked in a breath and said: "Jace isn't a liar—"

"Use your brain, Alexander," said the Inquisitor, still looking at Jace. "Leave aside your loyalty to your friend for a moment. What's the likelihood that Valentine stopped by his son's cell for a paternal chat about the Soul-Sword, and didn't mention what he planned to do with it, or even where he was going?"

"He's not lying," insisted Jasmine in a voice that was oddly calm. "If he were, he wouldn't have told you what he did just now. Would he?"

Now the Inquisitor did look away from Jace, her razor-like eyes resting on Jasmine. "It could be a trick. What reason do I have to believe you over Jonathan, anyway? Do not think I haven't noticed your insubordination."

"Insubordination?" Jasmine frowned.

"I very clearly told you to stay at the Institute, did I not?"

"No, you didn't." Jasmine bravely took a step toward the older woman. "You told me not to run for the hills. And I didn't. I wouldn't have."

A muscle in the Inquisitor's cheek jumped. "I implied—"

"Imogen," said Maryse, "let us get back to the point here."

"Very well," said the Inquisitor, turning away from Jasmine. "Doesn't it seem odd to anyone that the Soul-Sword should disappear the night before Jonathan Morgenstern and Jasmine Sianoor are supposed to stand trial by its blade—and that Jonathan's father is the one who took it?"

Jace looked as shocked as Jasmine felt. "My father didn't take the Sword for me, or for Jasmine. He took it for him. I doubt he even knew about the trial."

"How awfully convenient for you, regardless. And for him. He won't have to worry about you spilling his secrets."

"Yeah," Jace said, "he's terried I'll tell everyone that he's always really wanted to be a ballerina." The Inquisitor only stared. "I don't know any of my father's secrets," he said, sounding less mocking. "And I don't see how Jasmine would, either."

"If your father didn't take the Sword to protect you, then why did he take it?"

"It's a Mortal Instrument," said Clary. "It's powerful. Like the Cup. Valentine likes power."

"The Cup has an immediate use," said the Inquisitor. "He can use it to make an army. The Sword is used in trials. I can't see how that would interest him."

"He might have done it to destabilize the Clave," said Maryse. "To sap our morale. To say that there is nothing we can protect from him if he wants it badly enough." It would have been a good suggestion, if Maryse had sounded a little more convinced. "The fact is—" She cut herself off when Jace raised his hand, a startled look on his pale face. Jasmine was quick to catch him around the shoulders when his legs gave out. She struggled to hold him up, because he was both too heavy for her, and too resisting. He tried to get her to let go of him, but she refused. The two of them fell to their knees together, down on the grass.

Alec knelt down on Jace's other side, but Jace waved him off.

"Leave me alone," he croaked. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," said Jasmine, nauseous with concern. "Let us help you." One of her hands was on his chest; the other was clutching the back of his shirt. He looked at her with dark eyes, his lips parted slightly.

"Something's wrong with him," said Clary anxiously. "Something serious."

"He probably needs a healing rune." The Inquisitor looked annoyed, which made Jasmine's insides feel like they were on fire. "An iratze, or—"

"We tried that," said Alec. "It isn't working. I think there's something of demonic origin going on here."

"Like demon poison?" Maryse finally sounded worried.

"Like demon energy," Jasmine said with a shake of her head. She felt it too, the presence of something evil—what was left of it, at least. She had felt it the moment they got to the Silent City.

"He's shamming," said the Inquisitor. "He ought to be in the Silent City's cells right now."

Alec rose to his feet, his eyes blazing. "You can't say that—look at him!" He gestured at Jace, who had slumped into Jasmine's arms. "He can't even stand up. He needs doctors, he needs—"

"The Silent Brothers are dead," said the Inquisitor. "Are you suggesting a mundane hospital?"

"No," said Alec in a strained voice. "I thought he could go to Magnus."

"Magnus?"

"He's a warlock," said Alec. "Actually, he's the High Warlock of Brooklyn."

"You mean Magnus Bane," said Maryse. "He has a reputation—"

"He healed me after I fought a Greater Demon," said Alec. "The Silent Brothers couldn't do anything, but Magnus…"

"It's ridiculous," said the Inquisitor. "What you want is to help Jonathan escape."

"He's not well enough to escape," Isabelle said. "Can't you see that?"

"Magnus would never let that happen," Alec said, looking at Isabelle. "He's not interested in crossing the Clave."

"And how would he propose preventing it?" asked the Inquisitor with a curled lip. "Jonathan is a Shadowhunter; we're not so easy to keep under lock and key."

"Maybe you should ask him," Alec suggested. The Inquisitor smiled shaply.

"By all means. Where is he?"

Alec glanced down at his phone and said: "He's here." He raised his voice. "Magnus! Magnus, come on out."

There the warlock was, prancing through the gate and into the garden. He smirked at Alec, and then walked over to where Jace and Jasmine were. "Is he dead?" he asked. "He looks dead."

"No," snapped Maryse. "He's not dead."

"Have you checked? I could kick him if you want."

"Stop that!" the Inquisitor hissed. "He's not dead, but he's injured. Your medical skills are required. Jonathan needs to be well enough for the interrogation."

"Fine, but it'll cost you."

"I'll pay it," said Maryse immediately.

The Inquisitor breathed out through her nose. "Very well. But he can't remain at the Institute. Just because the Sword is gone doesn't mean the interrogation won't proceed as planned. And in the meantime, the boy must be held under observation. He's clearly a flight risk."

"A flight risk?" Isabelle demanded. "You act as if he tried to escape from the Silent City—"

"Well," the Inquisitor said. "He's no longer in his cell now, is he?"

"That's not fair! You couldn't have expected him to stay down there surrounded by dead people!"

"Not fair? Not fair? Do you honestly expect me to believe that you and your brother were motivated to come to the Bone City because of a distress call, and not because you wanted to free Jonathan from what you clearly consider unnecessary connement? And do you expect me to believe you won't try to free him again if he's allowed to remain at the Institute? Do you think you can fool me as easily as you fool your parents, Isabelle Lightwood?"

Isabelle turned red. Magnus cut across her as she opened her mouth to reply. "Look, it's not a problem," he said. "I can keep Jace at my place easily enough." The Inquisitor turned to Alec.

"Your warlock does realize," she said, "that Jonathan is a witness of utmost importance to the Clave?"

"He's not my warlock." Alec blushed.

"I've held prisoners for the Clave before," Magnus said, sounding more serious now. "I think you'll find I have an excellent record in that department. My contract is one of the best."

The Inquisitor made a sharp noise and said, "It's settled, then. Let me know when he's well enough to talk, warlock. I've still got plenty of questions for him."

"What about me?" asked Jasmine. "My trial was supposed to be at dawn, too."

"You, Jasmine, will remain at the Institute until we find a better solution for your situation," the Inquisitor said.

"Well, how is my situation any different from Jace's? How come he's being held prisoner and I'm not?"

"Excuse you," sassed Magnus, "my apartment is not a prison. Consider it a luxurious getaway from the outside world. Besides, I can't have two Shadowhunters staying at my place. Not at the same time."

"This does not mean you are off the hook—do not get it twisted," added the Inquisitor. "I will make sure somebody keeps an eye on you."

"Great," mumbled Jasmine. She craned her neck down to look at Jace's face, which was still, just like the rest of his body. She was half-cradling him, the way she might hold a sick or sleepy child. She closed her eyes and put her cheek against his forehead, wondering if he would let her hold him like that if he were awake.

Magnus, hovering over the two of them, gestured at Jace. "Can he talk?"

Jace's eyes fluttered open, and dizzily, he looked up at Magnus. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Magnus grinned widely. "Hey, roommate."

Next chapter will be set mostly in the Seelie Court, so be sure to check it out! Reviews are always appreciated 3