I am sooo disappointed. I wanted Reviews! I got instead views. Gosh. It's a good thing I know how to use story traffic stats, or I would have cried when I only received one Review. I had to remind myself that I am writing this for myself and not for anyone else before I got the nerve to continue it.

I mean it people. I don't know if you lot like it or not. Reviews help me know what you think. Unlike what the stories say, authors can't read the minds of her audience. I need reviews to know what you think, what you like, what you don't like, what you don't like that I've been using and all that.

But anyway, ignore my rant. It's not like I've been saying it all the time anyway. But this thing is almost finished and I wanted a target reviews of at least 30, or 25…

Chapter 10

Tessa had always known that she was to die fighting. Ever since William Herondale told her the story of Boudica, the warrior Queen, that ideal death had stuck itself in her mind.

Near death happened fairly often when you hung around with the Nephilim. Especially since she had broken a pitcher over a blue-eyed heroes head, going outside the bedroom door was a fairly exciting experience.

Magnus and Tessa had underestimated the strength of will of the demon warriors. The spell may have dissolved most of the demons but the demon warriors still had their weapons and they threw it at Magnus, aiming for the warlock to end the spell.

And horror of horrors, the spell faltered and broke. Tessa was fairly pushing everybody through the portal. Alec darted through the recovering mass of enemies like a nimble fairy and grabbed Clary and Jace. He coughed up blood every couple of moments and that fact made Tessa see red.

She began to vibrate, clutching at her Clockwork Angel that had stopped ticking decades ago. She glanced around and noted that it was only her and Magnus left.

Magnus, seeing the look in her eye, gasped and started to say something. Tessa didn't have time to listen and pushed him through, waving a bloodied hand through the runes and dissipating the portal.

Sebastian Morgenstern laughed. "You are all alone, half-blood." He looked her over appraisingly. "Why my mother Lilith talks about you, I have no idea. But then again, we are cousins of a sort."

"Family means more than blood. Family doesn't immediately mean camaraderie and friendship." Tessa quoted Charlotte Branwell.

He stepped closer, unaware of his danger. "You aren't very impressive, are you? A pathetic half-blood that cannot even answer me with her own words."

One more step. Oh, so tired. Tessa was so tired of holding back what could possibly be the last Change she would ever inflict on herself.

A voice whispered in her mind, "Let go daughter," and Tessa let loose the Change.

She remembered holding a Clockwork Angel that ticked a comforting rhythm, the shadow of its spirit tied to its mechanical body. Tessa recalled that imprint then, and the Change of a greater angel went through her body. She grew taller, her veins went molten and her eyes burned but she could still see the horrified look on Sebastian's face, how he tried to flee but was struck down by a negligent wave of the angels hand.

The demon warriors fell to the floor and did not attempt to get up or throw anything, pointy or otherwise.

"Sebastian Morgenstern, you who hold the blood of demons." The angel spoke and its voice thundered. Tessa felt like she was speaking fire. "The screams of the innocent follow you. For this, I give you the judgment of God."

The angel raised its left hand and clenched. Sebastian fell to his knees, mouth open wide with horror and pain. He seamlessly transformed into just another greater demon. God's punishment had been to drain the humanity out of him.

A twitch of the angels hand had him dissolving like any other demon.

Tessa, watching in her mind, felt the angel call the book named Inmortalium. Two books settled into its open palm.

"Daughter," its voice echoed in her mind. "I entrust you the task of removing the entire of angel summoning, and the method of angelic enslavement. You have held me in your body twice already and each time I get stronger."

The voice faded and Tessa sank into the blissful silence of sleep.

Understandably, the Clave was pissed off at them. And once again, they could not do anything about it.

Clary had the feeling that the adults were tired of humoring them and wanted to place them under lock and key – preferably with the key being banished somewhere difficult to access. They just kept ignoring the procedure! Oh, the horrors of dealing with the backlog of paperwork.

Maryse was torn between being proud and being angry.

For Jocelyn Fairchild, there were no two ways about it. She was pissed off to kingdom come.

"You got kidnapped and nobody thought to inform me?!" she growled.

Simon gulped. "I-it was your honeymoon and nobody wanted to disturb you…" the last part dissolved into a squeak.

"Ooh!" Jocelyn muttered. Her glare transferred to Magnus, who just raised an eyebrow. He'd been acting cooler and his hair had the minimum amount of glitter ever since last week's incident.

"Clary," Jocelyn continued. "You are grounded until you're sixty."

"What!? Mum!" she protested.

"Oh, yes. I leave you out of my sight for a couple of minutes, days and you get kidnapped and involved in an international crime."

Clary knew that arguing was futile and instead did the least amount of grumbling possible to prevent the grounding to turn to the rest of her natural life.

"Can I at least visit Tessa?" she said. She did not whine. Nope, not at all. And denial wasn't only a river in Egypt.

Jocelyn conceded and Clary found that visiting a comatose person was not nearly as exciting as previously thought. But the visitation was the only outing that Jocelyn allowed. Also, there was the off-chance that Jace was there. Jace, whose Heavenly Fire had greatly diminished after using it on Sebastian in their fight. Jace, whose body she could now touch after the said diminishing of Heavenly Fire. Jace who turned into a moody bastard every time he looked at Tessa's pained face because he apparently felt guilty for pissing her off before the rescue mission.

"When do you think she'll wake up?" she asked Jace.

Jace looked at her sleeping face with some sadness. "Nobody knows," he muttered.

And that was the gist of most reply's. Nobody knows. Just as nobody knows if Tessa managed to kill Sebastian, how Tessa managed to stay alive yet end up in a delirium and a coma at the same time. Or how she wound up in Magnus' new residence. It irritated the Clave.

The why questions were the ones that Magnus could answer.

"tessa was in-love with two men who were Parabatai," Magnus said. "She married one of them and the other one became her best friend."

"Jem Carstairs," Alec whispered.

"But didn't he die with his addiction?" Isabelle cut in.

"Yes. Three years after they married, Jem died. Now Will, who had been in-love with her, could not bring himself to marry her after she became his Parabatai's widow. He married another woman and Tessa has agreed to watch over all the Herondales, like an official family godmother."

"So that's why – " Jace said, comprehension dawning on him at the effect of his words on Tessa.

"When she heard of Stephen Herondales death, she detached herself from the world and went into hiding. She thought that her responsibilities as godmother had ended and she wanted to finally die.

"When she heard about Jace, she was ecstatic. She hung around my apartment in hopes of seeing you."

Clary felt kind of bad after listening to the explanation. It made her jealousy feel petty compared to Tessa's purely familial love of Jace. From the look on Alec's face, he felt the same way.

There was a knock on the door and Clary stood up. Behind the door was a Silent Brother named Brother Zachariah.

'How long has she been like this?' he demanded.

"A week or so. Nobody knows..so.." Clary said.

He pushed them all out of the room. Clary might have imagined the look of concern on his mutilated face.

Tessa was tied on a stake and she was being burned for her sins. A familiar man with blue eyes was watching her with pity.

"Tessa," he was saying. "Why do you torture yourself so?"

"I do not deserve to remain alive while the world slowly dies around me." She whispered. Her throat felt raw and burned, as though she had been drinking fire and followed it up with acid just for the fun of it.

"Oh dear heart," he whispered. "Have you not let my spirit suffer enough?"

At his words, shards of wood stuck into her feet. Amidst the burning fire, it should have been nothing but it was surprisingly more painful than the fire.

"I have done nothing but honor your memory," she answered. Blood dribbled out of her raw throat and out of her mouth.

"Honored me, yes. Letting me rest, no. My ashes remain soaked by your tears. Let me go, Tessa. Let me rest."

The fire burned hotter.

William Herondale watched as it burned her. Tessa could no longer scream. Her mouth was clogged with her own blood.

When Tessa came to, she found herself staring into the silver eyes of another of her ghosts. In particular, her dead husband, Jem Carstairs.

'Stubborn woman,' said his familiar voice in her mind.

Tessa realized that his skin had the marks of a Silent Brother.

"You're not a spirit then? Am I dead or dreaming?"

'Stop daydreaming, Tessa,' If possible, he sounded exasperated in her mind.

Tessa was slowly getting lightheaded in the face of dawning comprehension. "You-you! You never died, then. Did you?"

It was Jem, as a Silent Brother. Jem, whose corpse she had watched burned to ashes. Jem, whose face she wasn't sure if she wanted to kiss or punch to death.

In her mind, she heard him sigh. 'That's twice now that I've had to bring you back from the fever when you took the form of an angel. You have to stop killing yourself Tessa.'

"Funny," she remarked. "A spirit in my dreams told me that too."

'If that's twice, then perhaps you should start following it,' he said.

Tessa struggled to sit up and got entangled in the blankets. She almost fell face first on the floor but strong arms gripped her and then she was embracing him.

Her memory, which she thought had been slowly fading away, came back with a vengeance. She remembered his silvery hair and eyes, pale skin and kind smile. Most of all, she remembered the strength of his arms.

But he did not smell like her Jem. He smelled like a Silent Brother, of parchment and ink and the damp mildew of the underground.

His face was inches from hers and he must have seen her confused expression.

'This is why I did not wish to tell you. I did not wish to see you look at me like I am a stranger.'

"Oh Jem. You are not a stranger. Different, yes, but you are never a stranger."

This time, she did not imagine his scarred face smiling.

Just encouraging reviews. I am not using my Magnus-sized force of a personality to make you type on the review box… No, I am just using the Isabelle-type of ability I have in guilt tripping people.

Oh, I won't cry if I don't get reviews…It's not like it's not valentine's day or anything. It's not close. It's just a holiday….I don't need reviews as gifts….

(The Nile really isn't just a river in Egypt…)

Yours truly,

Lady Hallen