!IMPORTANT PLEASE READ THIS AUTHORS NOTE!
So, I have had no wifi and no chance to write at all, really. Also, I was stupid about several things regarding the writing of this story that I will not bore you with. This is not the beginning of more updates, my authors note that I posted a while ago is still in effect. I only have wifi for a bit.
Disclaimer: I'm not Cassie Clare.
Reviews!:
BABYGATOR1854: I'll try, but keep in mind this isn't a romance, and I am not currently sure what is going to happen. Chances are that they won't actually end up together.
groe89: Your english is great, I wouldn't have guessed that it isn't your first language. (I wish I was that proficient in another language. I'm not. I definitely couldn't read a story in another language, let alone write a review in that language!)
Clary sat in bed, staring at the ceiling, sketchpad in her lap. Jace asked far too many questions that brought up far too many memories. Glancing down at the sketchpad, she decided to work through it the way she always did, by drawing. She absentmindedly sketched for a few minutes. When she looked down, though, she was horrified. She had drawn her father, standing by the Ravener, which had her brother's face. Obviously something needed to be done.
Clary had only one thought-she needed more information. This motivated her to do something she hadn't done in years. Demon hunting-but with a special twist. She knew that the demons knew something, so she would go hunt them out and receive her information. It was something her father had taught her to do. It was useful, but it was unorthodox. Most shadowhunters would never take a demon's word, but the Morgensterns were different. The demons both feared and worshipped them, and would never dream of lying to them.
She tossed her sketchbook on her desk, then pulled out a 'Going Hunting' sign that she had made years before and threw that on top, so that the Lightwoods wouldn't worry. She did this sometimes, went hunting alone. They got used to it, since there was really nothing they could do to stop her.
When Izzy went to check on Clary an hour or so after they had gotten back to hear what had happened, she was greeted with silence upon knocking. Thinking maybe she fell asleep, she entered, to find the sign on the desk. Sighing and moving to put away the sketchbook she saw beneath it, she dropped it to the ground in shock. Staring up from the page, she saw something she feared greatly. The man who had raised her best friend.
Clary only drew him when something was up, when something had triggered the memories. Something bad was happening, and Izzy needed to know what. She could hardly bear to wait until Clary came back from hunting, but she couldn't go get her. Clary was somehow untrackable, so nobody had any clue where she had gone. She would be back by morning.
Izzy resigned herself to going back to her room and waiting for Clary, but changed her mind. She would go cook, now that there was no Clary to stop her.
In the end, the stew-at least, thats what it was meant to be-was horrible. Isabelle was left with nothing but training to distract her now, but she didn't need to, because Clary came back. She looked shaken and horrible, sick, even. Clary never got sick.
Yes, something was very wrong.
Yes, I know. It was short, I'm sorry. But I didn't have time. I just typed this up as fast as I could. I'll show Clary interrogating the demons next chapter, and explain why she looks 'sick.'