Chapter Ten

Clary found herself back in the training room, alone this time. Jace had shown her back, then headed to the library to join the others as Tessa recounted what had happened four years ago, and the things she had not understood at the time.

She couldn't believe it. Jocelyn, her mother, the woman who had loved her and raised her, was, for lack of better words, a bad guy. She was a villain of the shadow world, the shadowhunters, and the Clave. Clary didn't really care about the Clave, but she knew they were on the same side.

The side against her mom, apparently.

But it didn't seem right, looking back. When she thought of her mom, she remembered learning to write cursive, to solve complicated algebra equations, painting in the living room, eating pancakes for no reason, talking about boys, and watching Once Upon a Time every week. She remembered her mom crying while watching Titanic, and getting angry enough to shake when watching the news when they talked about war and terrorism and dogs being left in hot cars. Jocelyn didn't have a mean bone in her body-she couldn't even ground Clary when she did something bad!

Yet, stealing the mortal cup would have been treason against her people! Treason seemed out of bounds for the woman Clary knee, but everything seemed pointed at her.

If it was all true, Clary thought, maybe she didn't want her mom to wake up from her coma. Sure, the Clave would have their cup back, and Clary would still have her brother and father...but it would all be at the price of losing her mom. It would mean having to accept that her mom was bad, that she was capable of lying, stealing, treason, and worse-which depended on what her plan had been.

Sighing, she grabbed a handful of knifes and stood in front of the target.

"Focus on the act," she told herself aloud. "Don't think about mom. Think about being a shadowhunter."

So she did.

Inside the library:

Jonathan had been surprised to see Tessa-well, more surprised that she was so young. He had seen his fair share of warlocks, but it still shocked him that they looked so human. It wasn't the shadowhunter stigma or anything, it was that the word 'warlock' felt like it implied more then, say, a twenty-year-old girl with brown hair and jeans-even if her name was Tessa, a perfectly normal name.

He listened intently as Tessa told them about his mother: how she'd lied about her father and sister, begged to have Clarys memories removed, and portrayed himself and his father as criminals. He became angrier and angrier, and then suddenly confused.

"Wait," he said suddenly when Tessa paused to take a breath. "Did you just say you met Clary in the summer?"

She blinked at him. "The beginning of September, yes. Why?"

Jonathan looked at him father, then back at Tessa. "Because Jocelyn and Clary disappeared right after Christmas. If Clary knew what mother was doing, she would have tried to fight her. What were they doing for nine months before she asked for your help?"

The training room:

Clary sat down in the floor and stared at the painted target. A dozen knives and swords were emplaned in the center, a few more than halfway up the blades. She was panting slightly, the sides of her bangs clinging to the sweat at her temples. She felt a bit like she was floating, no longer grounded. Her life no longer made any sense.

Two days ago, everything was normal. It felt like forever ago. It felt like the life of a different person, but Clary was an onlooker to both: mundane Clary and shadowhunter Clary. She doubted even having her memories back would make it seem like one life-especially not her life.

Behind her, the door opened and she turned around to see Jonathan peering in.

"Hey," she smiled.

"Hey. Father sent me. We're going home now."

She stood up and grabbed her bag. "So what's next?"

"Father has sent a fire message to Magnus Bane to request a meeting. With any luck we should be able to see him tomorrow."

"Then we can wake up mom?" They walked down the hall.

"If Magnus created the potion that made her sleep, yes. But Tessa said those kinds of things move hands a lot, so we might have to keep looking. Hopefully he'll be able to help though."

She nodded. "Hopefully. So what's going to happen when she wakes up? If she's really stolen the cup and planned something...well, I don't know what I'm supposed to do when this is all over."

"If she has," Jonathan said slowly. "You'll have your memories back, and everything will make sense. I suppose you'll stay with us. We'll likely return to Idris to continue your training."

"What about...my life?" Clary asked. "I mean, I have a life here-school and everything."

"School's different for shadowhunters. We'll help you, don't worry."

"What about Simon?"

He sighed. "It's not definite that we'll return to Idris. If we don't, I don't mind staying in New York. It's nice. We'll have to ask father."

"I know Simon can't know about all of this, but…"

"You care about him," Jonathan said, shrugging like it was obvious. "You want to continue to have him in your life. That's not a bad thing." He stopped and put a hand on his sisters arm. "Clary, nobody is going to tell you to leave him behind. You have a say in your own life."

"I don't feel like I do. I mean, I've basically been kidnapped twice, my life has been flipped upside down, and I'm a shadowhunter. Nobody has asked my opinions on it. I mean, I'll do anything to wake up my mom, and I'm not complaining about having a family. I just…feel like I'm being pulled around and there's nothing I can do about it."

"Do you not want to be a shadowhunter? It's a hard life, Clary, but it's your life. I wouldn't blame you for wanting to continue to go to school and get coffee with your boyfriend and be a normal girl. As long as I can be a part of your life, I don't care what you decide."

"Kids," Valentine said, coming out of a door down the hall. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, father," Jonathan said. He smiled at Clary. "Think on it. For now, let's go home."