As a child, I'd always had a dream of galloping off on a horse. Back when I'd been a Flynn and my parents had sent me off to my grandparents for the weekend, I'd gotten to pretend I was racing along on a majestic stallion when in reality I was plodding around the yard on their old swaybacked mare. But at least it gave me a little experience with horses. Enough to know not to pull on the reigns to turn the horse, but to rest them against his neck. However, I was not used to the English saddle.

Fortunately, though, the dappled grey stallion I'd selected as my steed was beyond steady. After figuring out how to saddle him, I'd snuck him past the napping groom and into the streets of Alicante. Then, for safety, I'd placed my hand on his warm neck and borrowed his strength to divert attention away from us until we were beyond the Glass City's borders. Now, we were gliding along at a trot and my trusty steed seemed quite pleased with himself.

"You need a name," I commented to my new, commandeered friend.

Oddly enough, he didn't answer, just kept moving along.

"What about… Shadowfax?" I suggested.

My suggestion was answered with a particularly heavy huff of air.

"So… no. You're right. Everyone knows Shadowfax. What about…" I tried to think of other Andalusian horses I'd ever encountered. None. "What about Fiero? Like from Wicked? Yeah, you'll be Fiero."

I pulled Fiero into a walk as I performed the tracking spell for perhaps the third time. We were getting close and a quick glance behind assured me that I wasn't being followed. Hopefully. I didn't have enough concentration to split between riding a horse, tracking Jace, and confusing any would-be-pursuers.

But Fiero was a good horse and his surprisingly smooth trot would've put my grandparents' mare's canter to shame. Before long, I could see the stately manor house that dominated the Herondale estate. The huge structure oddly resembled a castle, being entirely grey. It fit what I knew of Imogen very well.

As luck would have it, Jace was outside tending to a very overgrown shrub. It looked like his grandmother had put him to work.

"Jaci!" he called in greeting, doing his best to hide his surprise about the horse.

I hastily slid off Fiero's back, silently thanking the permanent Marks for balance Isabelle had placed on my back for me. I threw my arms around Jace's neck and kissed him, taking him off guard.

"Wha-?"

"They arrested me," I explained quickly. "I escaped from the Gard but I can't go back to Alicante."

Jace paled for an instant before he grabbed my arm and started dragging me towards the house, leaving Fiero to crop grass as he pleased.

Once inside, Jace shoved me into a side closet and followed in behind me. "No one should see us here," he offered in response to my quiet cry of outrage.

"So you threw me in a closet?!"

Jace clapped a hand over my mouth. "If the Clave is looking for you – which they will be – we can't trust anyone. Especially not Imogen."

Of course. Imogen might've just discovered that her entire family wasn't completely wiped out but that wouldn't erase all loyalty to the Clave. Especially since she currently wasn't exactly on their good side, after having been fired and all. She would be trying to find a way back into their good graces and turning me over would be a very quick route to take.

"Fine," I hissed through his fingers.

Deciding that I wasn't going to give myself away to be locked up again, Jace took his hand away from his mouth. "I'm going to go contact Alec and Isabelle. I'll have them meet us… somewhere. Wayland estate?"

"But what about Sebastian?"

"What about him?'

"If we leave him alone," I explained, "there'll be no one to stop him from disabling the wards around the city."

Jace grinned at me. "You forget, we have Binder and Nehima. Valentine can't summon a demon army, wards or no."

"Fine." It would have to do. "Go send them a message and get Nehima from wherever you left it. I'll wait here."

It felt like hours, sitting in the dark closet. I couldn't hear a sound from anywhere in the house. Was Imogen even there? Also, how big was the building? Probably huge. She had been the Inquisitor, after all.

There was, finally, the sound of footsteps in the hall. It was then that I realized the dull pounding I'd been hearing was actually someone knocking and not the sound of my own heart. The heavy front door creaked open. I quietly crawled towards the back of the closet, glad for all the long cloaks.

The problem with taking safety at the back of the closet was that I could no longer hear anything near the door. Risking a little noise, I whispered a Seraphtongue spell that would increase my hearing.

"… Goldhawk's horse has gone missing. Have you seen him?" A deep, male voice was asking.

"Which one?" Imogen's voice answered.

"Abraxas."

So that was Fiero's real name. Huh. I liked Fiero better.

"I'm afraid I haven't. You're welcome to check the stable though. Now if that's all-"

The door creaked again and stopped suddenly with a thud.

"That won't be all, Imogen." That voice, different than the first, belonged undoubtedly to Inquisitor Aldertree.

My blood ran cold.

"Yes?" Imogen snapped.

"Your, grandson is it? Jonathan Herondale? We're having some trouble locating him. If you see him, we would like to talk to him about the events in New York. Part of the job, you understand." Aldertree's voice made my skin crawl and I wanted very much to wrap my hands around the short man's neck.

"If I see either him or the horse," Imogen said easily, "I will inform you immediately."

"Excellent. Thank you, most obliged."

The door closed with a slam.

So maybe Jace and I were wrong about Imogen. I was pretty sure she'd seen the horse wandering around her lawn and I knew she was aware that Jace was in the house. But yet she hadn't turned either over to the Inquisitor.

"Jace!" Imogen's voice rang sharply throughout the house.

I heard Jace's answering call.

"Tell Jaelyn, wherever you've hidden her, that if that horse makes a mess in here, I expect her to clean it up."

Fiero gazed serenely at me, as though standing in the kitchen was something he commonly did. I still couldn't believe that it had been Imogen's idea to bring the horse inside. Not to mention she was fine with having me inside.

In fact, she was helping us pack.

"The Clave won't notice your absence until tomorrow," she explained, setting two heavy duty canvas bags on the counter. "I suggest you figure out a way to block being tracked."

"Didn't the Iron Sisters used to make bracelets that blocked tracking spells?" Jace inquired.

Imogen hesitated for half a second. "There's a rune that will do it. But it is a permanent rune."

"That's perfect," Jace said, already pulling out his stele. "We won't have to reapply it."

"But what if we get separated and can't find each other?" I pointed out. "The point of a permanent rune is that it's, well, permanent."

He just shrugged in response. "Magnus removed your permanent Mark, didn't he?"

"What permanent Mark?" Imogen's head snapped to face me. She was still frighteningly predatory at times.

Meekly, I held up my right hand, displaying the pale scar left behind by the erased Mark. It had been so long since I'd even thought about it.

Imogen's grip was surprisingly cold and strong as she took my hand for closer inspection. Apparently satisfied that the Mark was actually erased, she released me. "I'd hate to think how much that cost," she muttered. "But why haven't you had it reapplied? It's traditionally the first Mark a Shadowhunter receives."

"I mean, technically it was the first Mark I received," I pointed out, turning my hand so that the light made the faded scar look silver. "But I don't know. I guess it marks me as different if I don't have it."

"Because you need something else to mark you as different," Jace snorted sarcastically.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "No one asked you for your opinion."

"It's a free amenity."

It seemed Imogen wasn't having any of our crap. Having packed extraordinarily quickly, she shoved the now full bags toward us. "Jace, do you have your sword?"

Jace lifted Nehima in response before silently handing it off to me.

"Thank you," I said pleasantly. Then a thought struck me. "Jace, do you have, um, my book?"

He responded in the negative. "Isabelle insisted that she take it."

"Don't tell me," Imogen insisted, already backing towards the door to the kitchen. "I don't want to know where you're going or what you're doing."

"Really?" Jace asked, very surprised.

"That's so… unlike you," I added, equally amazed.

She flashed the two of us a tight lipped smile. "The Circle was most powerful when it was full of Shadowhunters about your age. You might as well be the ones to stop Valentine. Besides, if the Inquisitor shows up again, I can't tell him where you've gone." And with that, she was gone.

When I turned to Jace, he had his stele out. "Ready to really become fugitives?"

I pulled my left sleeve up past my elbow. "Now or never, right?"