The next day, Team Good assembled at the park for an emergency meeting.
It was warm, for an October afternoon. Isabelle, Simon, Clary and Jace sat on the grass discussing Sebastien's strange visit, while Alec sat in the corner, once again trying to ring Magnus.
"So what did he say exactly?" pressed Isabelle.
"I told you," replied Clary, wearily, "He said that the wards are breaking and the demons are coming. He plans to rule over the mundanes, and he wants me to do it with him."
"We need to make some sort of plan," said Simon, helpfully.
"We shouldn't," protested Isabelle. "The Clave has a plan."
"The Clave has the collective intelligence of a pineapple," said Jace.
Alec blinked up at them. "Jace is right."
Isabelle turned on her brother. "What do you know? You weren't even paying attention."
"I was," Alec said, injured. "I said Jace was right."
"Yeah, but there's like a 90% chance of me being right most of the time, so that's not proof you were listening," said Jace. "That's just a good guess."
Alec sighed, and turned his gaze back to his mobile phone.
"I think I should pretend to go along with it, like last time." Clary suggested, quietly.
"Don't be ridiculous," said Jace, sharply, "Sebastien's not an idiot. He won't fall for that again. I'm not even sure he fell for it the first time."
"You'd just be putting yourself in danger," agreed Simon.
"Definitely not." Isabelle told her, firmly.
"Anyway, we- will you put that bloody phone down?"
Jace knocked the phone out of Alec's hand, sending it flying into a the trunk of a nearby tree. Alec cried out, and jumped to his feet, running over to where the phone had landed.
Alec looked down at the shattered pieces in disbelief. "You BROKE my PHONE."
Jace shrugged. "Guys don't let other guys keep calling other guys. Okay, that came out wrong. Friends don't let friends keep calling their exes and hanging up. Seriously. You have to stop."
Alec looked furious. "So you broke my brand new phone? Thanks a lot."
Jace smiled serenely and lay back on the grass. "You're welcome."
Alec gathered up the pieces of his phone, and stalked off, muttering angrily.
"Someone's in a bad mood," remarked Jace, mildly.
"You did just break his phone," Clary reminded him.
"Nonsense. I knocked his phone out of his hand. The tree broke his phone."
"Anyway," Simon cut in, "I think you should tell the Clave about Sebastien."
"Not yet," disagreed Clary, "He won't visit me again if he knows the Clave's watching out for him. I might be able to learn something important."
Over the next few weeks, all Clary's time was taken up by patrols, until, one late November morning, Simon called her.
"Hey," she said, picking up the phone.
"Hey," he replied, "Want to take the day off and do some Christmas shopping."
"Okay," she agreed, "See you in five? Fifth Avenue?"
"Okay. I'll meet you there."
The Frays had never been a religiously observant family, but Clary loved Fifth Avenue at Christmas time. The air smelled like sweet roasted chestnuts, and the window displays sparkled with silver and blue, green and red. This year there were fat round crystal snowflakes attached to each lamppost, sending back the winter sunlight in shafts of gold. Not to mention the huge tree at Rockefeller Center. It threw its shadow across them as she and Simon draped themselves over the gate at the side of the skating rink, watching tourists fall down as they tried to navigate the ice.
Clary had a hot chocolate wrapped in her hands, the warmth spreading through her body. She felt almost normal—this, coming to Fifth to see the window displays and the tree, had been a winter tradition for her and Simon for as long as she could remember.
"Feels like old times, doesn't it?" he said, echoing her thoughts as he propped his chin on his folded arms.
She chanced a sideways look at him. He was wearing a black topcoat and scarf that emphasized the winter pallor of his skin. His eyes were shadowed, indicating that he hadn't fed on blood recently. He looked like what he was—a hungry, tired vampire.
Well, she thought. Almost like old times. "More people to buy presents for," she said. "Plus, the always traumatic what-to-buy-someone-for-the-first-Christmas-after-you've-started-dating question."
"What to get the Shadowhunter who has everything," Simon said with a grin.
"Jace mostly likes weapons," Clary sighed. "He likes books, but they have a huge library at the Institute. He likes classical music …" She brightened. Simon was a musician; even though his band was terrible, and was always changing their name—currently they were Lethal Soufflé—he did have training. "What would you give someone who likes to play the piano?"
"A piano."
"Simon."
"A really huge metronome that could also double as a weapon?"
Clary sighed, exasperated.
"Sheet music. Rachmaninoff is tough stuff, but he likes a challenge."
"Now you're talking. I'm going to see if there's a music store around here." Clary, done with her hot chocolate, tossed the cup into a nearby trash can and pulled her phone out. "What about you? What are you giving Isabelle?"
"I have absolutely no idea," Simon said. They had started heading toward the avenue, where a steady stream of pedestrians gawking at the windows clogged the streets.
"Oh, come on. Isabelle's easy."
"That's my girlfriend you're talking about." Simon's brows drew together. "I think. I'm not sure. We haven't discussed it. The relationship, I mean."
"You really have to DTR, Simon."
"What?"
"Define the relationship. What it is, where it's going. Are you boyfriend and girlfriend, just having fun, 'it's complicated,' or what? When's she going to tell her parents? Are you allowed to see other people?"
Simon blanched. "What? Seriously?"
"Seriously. In the meantime—perfume!" Clary grabbed Simon by the back of his coat and hauled him into a cosmetics store that had once been a bank. It was massive on the inside, with rows of gleaming bottles everywhere. "And something unusual," she said, heading for the fragrance area. "Isabelle isn't going to want to smell like everyone else. She's going to want to smell like figs, or vetiver, or—"
"Figs? Figs have a smell?" Simon looked horrified; Clary was about to laugh at him when her phone buzzed. It was her mother.
where are you? It's an emergency.
