Disclaimer: Still isn't mine.

Clary woke much earlier than she had wanted. Anticipation had kept her mind awake for most of the night, and finally after falling asleep, she couldn't stay sleeping. She sat up in her bed, looking out her window. The sun hadn't even begun to rise. The portal to Idris wouldn't be made until nine, and the sun wouldn't be up until seven-thirty, at least. Clary ran a hand down her face, frustrated with her early morning.

There was no point trying to sleep, her mind was already whirring with thoughts. She knew she should try to look presentable, so she slowly climbed out of bed and made her way into her private bathroom. The heat from the shower helped relax her nerves only slightly, letting her mind go blank from the warmth of the water. She took her time scrubbing her body down with soap—the same generic brand that all the Lightwoods used, yet only reminded her of Jace—and let her conditioner stay in her hair for an extra five minutes while she sat under the spray of the water. She even shaved her legs, knowing that Jace wouldn't come close enough to her to enjoy the benefits of her smooth skin. He seemed to be taking the marks on her wrist too seriously.

She knew intimacy was at a standstill until she could remove the runes and she scratched at her wrist in frustration. It only agitated her, and hurt. Her skin bled lightly from her nails and Clary decided that her peaceful shower was over. She put a towel in her hair and wrapped her naked body, deciding she didn't want to look so presentable for the Clave. Her hair could go as wild as it wanted to. Clary just didn't care anymore.

It may have been early for Clary, but Jace was used to rising before the sun. She wasn't surprised to find him sitting on her bed. He looked up at her, smiling softly at her appearance. He had on all his shadowhunting gear, and the black of his outfit made his hair look especially golden in the suddenly rising sunlight. Clary absentmindedly raised her arms to remove her towel from her hair, and she saw Jace's eyes follow the movement. His expression changed into a scowl, his golden eyes narrowing. "What did you do you your arm?"

Clary looked at her forgotten wrist. It was still bleeding. "I was upset."

"I guess I can relate. I've been known to self mutilate in extreme circumstances." His words were meant to be light, but the way he said them were nothing but dark. His face still looked upset. Clary looked away, turning to find her most comfortable pair of sweats. Finding what she wanted, she ducked into the bathroom to change. When she came out, Jace looked offended. "When have you become so prudish?"

"Since you stopped touching me," she answered honestly. "Why tease when I know I can't get anything from it?"

Jace nodded in agreement. He stood and crossed the room, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. Jace was never uncertain with her. His actions were always deliberate and confident. Clary didn't like what was happening between them. "We'll get this straightened out, I promise. If it means killing the bastard, I'll do it. I'll put a seraph blade right through his ugly heart."

"How very melodramatic of you," Clary mused.

Jace kissed her quickly on her forehead, avoiding her lips. He left her alone in her room to pack. Clay mulled over the fact that at least a simple kiss didn't send him hurling into the toilet. It gave her hope.

She let her imagination run wild over the things they could still do without enabling the marks. It let her body calm down while she packed her things. But what did she need to bring to Alicante? It was only November, and New York was still above freezing. Did it have the same weather as the rest of its European neighbours? Most likely. She even remembered being told that the altitude of their small country was a lot higher, so it was never particularly warm.

Treading over to her closet, Clary dug around for one of her autumn jackets. Her hands trailed to the back of the closet, her fists closing on something velvety and soft. When she brought it out, she found it was her old emerald jacket that had been a gift from Luke. It had several patches on it from her last time in Alicante; her mother insisted on the rough patch-work. Maybe it had more of a rugged look to it now. She hugged it to her chest as she brought it over to her small traveling bag.

It took her a good part of an hour to completely demolish her recently cleaned room. There was clothing on every possible surface of furniture, her closet and dresser devastated. But when she zipped up her bag, she was content with what she had picked out to bring. Clary opted to wear her fighting gear through the portal—it took up the most room and would be easier to pack more weapons if she was wearing them all.

She had to dig under a pile of embarrassing lingerie that Isabelle had bought her a week previous to find her stele and witchlight stone. Jace would have been appalled to see the state of her room. He was much to tidy to understand that sometimes it was necessary to have clutter in your room.

Still in her sweatpants, Clary made her way into the kitchen, knowing she would have to be quick if she were to change. It still took her forever to tie up her boots—another addition to her wardrobe thanks to Isabelle—and she was sure Jace would want her to have at least one seraph blade on her belt. It didn't take her long to eat breakfast, there was no one in the kitchen and she only had a bowl of cereal.

Back in her room, Clary unearthed her sketchbook from under one of numerous piles of clothing. It needed to come too, she decided on the spot. The last time she had been in Idris she hadn't had a chance to draw. This time, she was sure she would at least get some private time to sketch. Her fingers itched to do something other than fight or train.

Eight thirty rolled around faster than Clary expected, and she went down the hallways to the foyer to meet up with the others. She was glad to see Isabelle had dressed similar to her, in black Shadowhunting gear, her whip on her wrist. Clary noticed that the usual gleam of mischief was vacant from her smile. In fact, Isabelle had been rather monotonous ever since Clary had been abducted. She wondered if it had to do with Tristan. Isabelle had had sex with him. Perhaps it was just a lingering guilt.

Clary had tried to talk to her about it once, but Isabelle had laughed it off. "Oh, don't worry about him Clary; I'm not beating myself up about that."

"What is it then?" Clary had pressed.

"It's nothing," she assured Clary.

Jace and Alec were next to meet in the foyer, their bags much smaller than Clary's (who was happy to see that Isabelle had the largest bag), both talking quietly. Had she not been so sleep deprived, Clary may have bothered to listen. They all piled into the elevator.

Maryse and Robert had seen them off the night before; they had gone to the Institute in Paris, so they were left in the church alone. For whatever reason, the Clave did not require their presence. Perhaps it was because they were not in New York when everything had happened.

It still seemed odd, leaving for a trip. Clary had only been in New York for the last two years, and she couldn't help feeling a tinge of excitement. It was mostly overshadowed by her dread of speaking to the Council, seeing Tristan again, and the fact that her mother had not been informed of anything. Clary had mentioned that she was going to be leaving the state, and she would not be able to be reached.

Somehow Clary knew that Jocelyn would find out, but she ignored that fact.

The air outside seemed even colder with the wind, whipping at her face and making goose bumps rise up under her Shadowhunting gear. She hugged her arms around her body, trying to keep warm, but it was useless. Even with her hair down, the wind cut through her curls, biting at her exposed neck.

Jace was still talking to Alec, both their expressions grim. The only time that Alec's expression looked relatively happy was when Magnus came strolling onto the Institute grounds. His outfit was outrageously typical of him; bright yellow pants (Clary would call them canary yellow), a sequined shirt, and a fitted rainbow blazer. He nodded once in Clary's direction before turning to his boyfriend. There was a pang of jealousy as she watched Magnus dip his head down and swiftly kiss Alec on the lips. Clary yearned to have Jace kiss her again—she felt as if she were going through withdrawal. He was a drug for her.

Isabelle was leaning against the gate, observing the scene in front of her. She had her highest pair of boots on, making her tower over Clary. "Are we going yet?" she asked suddenly, cutting off Magnus in mid-sentence, as he explained where exactly they would be portaling to.

"If you insist," Magnus answered shortly. His shoulders were stiff as he looked at her. "But the Clave insisted on waiting until nine o'clock on the dot."

"Screw them," Isabelle spat. Her response caught Jace's attention—he was usually the one with the rude remarks.

"What's crawled up your ass?"

"I just don't see any reason that we have to wait for the exact time. I don't want to wait out here for another fifteen minutes. We can tell them my watch was fast if they throw a fit."

No one argued her point. It was really cold and Clary would prefer to go as soon as possible. So without further stalling, Magnus opened the portal. Alec and Jace went first, followed by Isabelle. Clary hesitated. "You're going to be right behind me?" she asked Magnus.

He smiled broadly at her and ushered her forward. "Of course. I have to shut the portal afterwards, so it would be best if you went now."

Clary didn't wait any longer. She took a step forward, letting the portal drag her to Idris.

Even with a few years of training under her belt, Clary still stumbled forward, out of the portal. Two strong hands caught her, and Clary looked up, frowning slightly when she realised it was someone who was far from a stranger that had caught her. The lighting in the room was very dark, making it hard to make out the expression of his face, but he was very recognizable. She squinted to see his face. He was not happy. "Luke?"

"Did you really think your mother and I wouldn't find out what happened? As far away from Idris that we live, your mother has very up to date information on what goes on within the Clave." He was talking to her like she was caught stealing a cookie from the jar. Clary didn't like the disapproving tone in his voice.

"I don't have to tell you everything," she argued. "Not everything should be such a big deal with me."

"So being kidnapped isn't such a big thing? Even for a mundane it's quite significant."

Clary hated how calmly Luke talked to her. She preferred being yelled at, it felt less angry in some twisted way. "When did you get here anyway?" she tried to change the conversation. "And where is my mom?" Clary's eyes had adjusted well enough to the light for her to see that they were in the new Guard. They were in a small, plainly decorated room. Very unelaborated for the Clave. She couldn't even see one painting of Shadowhunters or angels or demons and Downworlders. She also noticed that everyone else was situated by the door on the other side, accompanied by a few armed Guard members. But her mother was nowhere to be seen.

Luke looked over his shoulder, a frown still playing at his lips. "She's with Amatis. I didn't think it would be good if you met her here. She was seething when we arrived last night."

"But why are you here?"

"The Consul and Inquisitor wanted us in for questioning as well. We only found out about this last night. I had to call Magnus Bane last minute to arrange a portal. He gave me quite the discount too," Luke added quietly. "It seems that Sebastian has caused quite the upset among the Shadowhunters. Everyone was under the impression that there was no one on Valentine's side anymore."

Clary shook her head, her hair flying around her head. "He's not loyal to Valentine. I think Tristan had some sort of vendetta he felt needed to be fulfilled. He hated Jonathan, but I think he somehow respected him, so he decided to take up the mission Jonathan wanted to complete."

Confusion washed over Luke's features. "Tristan? You mean Sebastian, don't you?"

"Yes, it's just that I still consider Jonathan as Sebastian."

Luke nodded in understanding. "All the aliases can be confusing."

"You're telling me. So what are we supposed to be doing anyway? I can't imagine the Clave is going to expect us to stay in here."

"We're just waiting for the go-ahead to leave. And by the looks of it, we can head out."

Clary strained her head over Luke's shoulder to see the others quickly exiting the room. She caught the golden shine of Jace's hair disappearing into the hallway, but he was too far away to call out to. She and Luke quickly followed the others out, eager to leave the small room.

They only stopped once the guards reached a large set of wooden doors. They were elaborately decorated with rune carvings. Clary recognized several of them; protection, healing, invisibility. She had to hold her hand tightly to her side to keep from running her fingers over the engravings. When they went out the doors Clary was surprised to find them outside. She gave a sideways look to Luke.

"We have to wait until tomorrow morning to meet with the Inquisitor," Luke spoke quietly to Clary. "So that means you have plenty of time to inform your mother on what exactly happened in New York last month."

"Perfect," Clary mumbled.

The wrath of Jocelyn next...