~William Blake
Zach, Amanda, Emma, and Nate entered the Institute first in order to go and alert the Clave. The rest of us were in the infirmary with Alec placed on the bed. Isabelle was hovering over him after Hodge had put together an herbal medicine for his wounds. It seemed to have lessened the spread of the poison, but it was designed for poisons of lesser demons. Hodge had dismissed himself to the library with Clary and Jace as I rummaged through the cabinets looking for any herbs that could help until the Silent Brothers arrived. I found a bottle with an orange powder labeled Turmeric which can be used for pain. I then created a paste by combining it with Lavender and Wintergreen Essential Oil, and some witch hazel that I ground using a mortar and pestle. I brought the mortar over and used a cotton pad to apply the paste to Alec's wound.
He flinched as the cool paste was applied. "Is he okay?" Isabelle stood, "If you're hurting him, I'll be hurting you."
"I promise I am doing my best to help," I assured, "This is going to relieve his pain and lessen the inflammation. If I had enough of my magic left I would be able to extract the poison myself."
"What about Magnus?" Mark asked, "Could we send for him?"
"I would have to send a fire message which is easier if I am by a fireplace. Since I am working with limited energy right now."
"There is a fireplace in the library," Isabelle noted, "You could go there. I'll watch him."
"Alright, I'll be back soon." Mark and I exited the infirmary and navigated the halls until we reached the large wooden doors of the library. I attempted to open them, but they appeared to be locked. Mark made the next attempt, but they still wouldn't budge.
"I didn't think that these doors could lock," Mark was puzzled, "I mean, why would you lock a library?"
"Hodge, Jace, and Clary should be in there right?" I knocked loudly on the door, "Maybe it is just jammed and they can get it from their side. I'm sure it is an old door." There was no answer, so I knocked again. Mark tried the handle again with more force. He began to push against the door with his shoulder trying to get it to budge. "Why don't you try a rune?"
Mark removed his Stele and began to trace a marking on the door. It flowed from the tip into a stylized shape of a padlock that had been cut open. The was a clash of metal as the door creaked open and we were finally able to make it inside. We entered behind Clary and we were staring at a scene with Hodge facing Valentine who was standing in front of a portal with Jace unconscious at his feet.
"What about the promise you made me?" Hodge pleaded.
"I made no promises," Valentine spat, "You would have called to give me the cup whether you received anything in return or not."
"You told me that you would remove my curse if I gave it to you. I betrayed the Lightwoods…"
"The Lightwoods," Valentine laughed, "All this time they could come and go as they please while you were locked to this place. Hardly seems fair to put your faith in them over me."
"It isn't like that."
"You are pathetic," Valentine snapped his fingers and Hodge's hands shot to his chest, clutching for his heart. A thick black fluid could be seen oozing between his fingers as he cried out in pain.
"You monster!" Clary shouted, "He trusted you."
"You know nothing," Valentine glared and his eyes caught Mark and I, "Fraternizing with Warlocks is not what I would expect from my daughter."
Clary turned and noticed us, hope in her eyes. I placed my hands against the invisible wall that separated us from the rest of the library. There was a sharp pain, but I managed to create a slight opening enough for Clary and Mark to dart through. They ran for Valentine who had managed to lift Jace over his shoulder and was making his way back to his portal.
"Stop!" Clary shouted, leaping forward as he turned back to give her one more disappointed glare while the portal closed behind him and Clary landed, face-first, on the stone floor.
Mark was over by Hodge, a small knife raised to the nape of Hodge's neck, "How could you? After all we went through to get the cup, you gave it to Valentine? For what?"
"My freedom!" Hodge snapped, and a medium sized black bird flew down from the second story, talons raised, knocking the knife from Mark's hand and going for his eyes next. Mark batted at it furiously with his fists, but the bird had already landed a few good blows.
Hodge was running towards me, my hands were outstretched. Blue sparks springing from my fingertips, "Call off the bird!"
"Never!" he held out a spiked blue circle, a chakram, and flung it at me. I managed to dodge, but it took a piece of my shirt with it. I felt a stab as I looked down and noticed that he had flung a second one. This one had hit its mark and was embedded into my right ankle drawing blood into a pool on the floor. He was gone now, the library door closed behind him as I muttered to myself, removing the chakram. Clary, after having collected herself, ran to the window and opened it to try and spot Hodge below. The raven left Mark now and flew out into the New York air.
"I see him!" Clary sprinted past me.
"Clary wait, he is dangerous," I shouted after her, but she was already gone. Mark was already at my side, his wounds from the raven were healing as he used his Stele to trace a healing rune above my right ankle. The pain subsided as the cut healed and I was able to stand again.
"Can you walk?" Mark bent to support me as I steadied myself.
"Yes, but I need to take a few days to recover after this. My magic is extremely depleted from everything that has happened. Abbadon managed to take most of what I had recovered during our fight with him. I'm not invincible, and if I keep going like this I could die."
"Then get back to infirmary," Mark instructed, "I can handle things from here."
"I can still help you," I stumbled slightly as we left the library to find Church, the Institute's cat, in the hall.
"Church, please guide him back to the infirmary," Mark instructed, "If he falls get Isabelle." The cat let out an angry meow as it trotted down the hall.
"Please be safe," I gave Mark a gentle peck on the forehead before we parted ways.
Mark's Point of View
I darted through the halls and down the stairway to the main entrance of the Institute. I slammed the doors behind me and leaped from the stairs into a crouch. Once at the street I searched each direction catching a glimpse of fiery orange hair as it rounded the block. I raced after her to see that she was rounding another corner down an alley. I thought my eye caught a dark shape coming from down the street, but I continued after her.
At the end of the alley was Hodge with Clary and I facing him. "Where is Valentine?" Clary demanded, "What does he want with Jace?"
"He would kill me if I told you," Hodge shook his head.
"The Clave will kill you once they find out what you did," I shot a sharp glare.
"You never contacted the Clave did you?" Clary stared at him, "Or the Silent Brothers? Alec will…"
"Don't talk to me about Alec. He will be alright."
"They trusted you," Clary was visibly angry now, "They treated you like family and you betrayed that."
"Valentine…"
"I don't care about Valentine," she spat, "I care about what he is doing to my Mom and now he has Jace as well because of you."
"He won't hurt Jace. You don't understand…"
"I do understand. Valentine is a monster."
He moved fast. Hodge pulled a Chakram from his belt and sent it flying at Clary. I unsheathed my sword, but was stopped when a brown creature darted between Hodge and Clary with a grey stripe along its side. There was a howl of pain as the chakram was buried into the side of a large wolf.
"You," Hodge's eyes widened, "I thought you left town."
The wolf launched at Hodge and the two were a blur of fur and skin as they fought. After a few moments they seperated, Hodge was on the ground in severe pain and the wolf stood on his hind legs as his fur shrunk into his body and a man in a plaid shirt with dark blue jeans stood in its place.
"Luke!" Clary was in shock, "What are you doing here?"
"Watching out for you. I was on my way to the Institute because all of Downworld was buzzing with what happened. When I arrived, I saw you racing out the door and followed."
"You're hurt," Clary looked at the bloody gash across his abdomen, "You need to get to a doctor."
"This is nothing," Luke chuckled, "It will be healed in no time."
"But we don't know where Valentine is," I looked down at Hodge who appeared unconscious, "How are we going to find him?"
"He came from a portal," Clary was deep in thought, "Didn't Magnus say that there are only two permanent portals in New York? One at Dorothea's and I don't imagine he would be there and one at Renwick's."
"But who is Renwick? Another Warlock perhaps?"
Clary fumbled in her pocket and pulled out her phone, "Let me try Simon."
"Simon? Your friend?" Luke was skeptical, "How would he know of Renwick?
Clary placed the phone to her ear, "He wouldn't, but his computer might." The phone rang once before Simon had answered. "Simon, it's me, Clary. I was hoping you could do me a favor. Are you at your computer?" She paused, "Could you look up Renwick's?" There was another long pause. "An abandoned hospital," she repeated his information, "On Roosevelt Island. Thank you Simon. No, it's alright, Luke and Mark are with me. I'll call you later."
She ended the call and turned to Luke, "We have to get to Renwick's."
"I know, but we can't go unprepared," Luke attempted to calm her, "Valentine isn't going to just let us walk in the front door and leave with your mom Clary."
"But Alec is hurt, and Isabelle is taking care of him."
"I didn't mean the Shadowhunters," Luke motioned for us to follow as we exited the alley and went down the street to his pickup.
"You mean your pack," I filled Clary in, "Remember, Luke is in charge of a pack of werewolves here in New York. They have to listen and obey any order that he gives."
"Really?"
"Yes, I try not to play the leader card often, but this is an extenuating circumstance."
After a short ride we pulled in front of what appeared to be an aged police headquarters. However, if you let your eyes rest it looked like a small Chinese Take-Out restaurant called the Jade Wolf. "Why a Take-Out place?" I asked as we entered the front door.
"We figured it would get the least amount of traffic, and some of the cubs like to mess around. They'll even fill a few orders once in a while."
"Sir you're hurt," a girl with light hair that fell just past her shoulders which were covered with a flannel jacket resting on her delicate looking frame, "Let me tend to your wounds."
"I'm alright Gretel," Luke waved her off.
"No, you need those taken care of."
"Alright, can you get Alaric for me though. I have something I need to talk with both of you."
Gretel escorted us to an office where we each took a seat, then she retreated.
"She's seems rather fond of you," Clary looked at Luke, brows raised.
"Gretel is my second in command," Luke explained, "Alaric is my third. She is fairly new, and hasn't really been broken from the formalities."
There was a knock at the door as Gretel returned with a tray of bandages and other medical supplies. Behind her was was a tall man with long gray hair and a muscular build. She began to tend to Luke's wounds.
"We're going after Valentine," Luke instructed Gretel who gave him a stern look.
"But sir, you are not fit to…"
"Gretel, we are going after Valentine. I will be fine," Luke pulled away, "We need to leave now before word gets to him that his location has slipped out. Alaric, ready the pack and we'll be going.
"Luke, are you sure we should bring the whole pack? Won't a large group alert him of our presence?" Clary cautioned.
"Clary, word in the Downworld is that Valentine has been amassing an army. A small group isn't going to stand a chance."
"An army?" I paused, "Of Shadowhunters?"
"That we don't know. I doubt he would be able to get a large group of Shadowhunter supporters past the Clave now." Luke lead the way back out to the truck, "We are going to Renwick's," he instructed the pack of twenty or so people, "Be swift and careful not to give yourself away. We will likely encounter traps of some sort on our way."
Luke got in the truck and we followed suit as we raced down the streets of Manhattan, through Midtown, and across the bridge to Roosevelt Island. Luke pulled over and we all got out, "We're going to have to walk from here. The engine noise would give us away."
Clary and I used our steles to place the runes for stamina, strength, soundless, and agility on our forearms. The black lines flowed from the tip like paint from a brush, etching the swirling symbols on our skins and bringing the strength of the angels through our bodies.
She looked ahead and saw a great stone structure that was decaying badly. There were dim lights that were just bright enough to show that every surface was covered in overgrown ivy. Alaric alongside the other werewolves finally arrived and Clary turned back to look at the hospital however now it seemed to change, like paint peeling away. The lights faded to reveal an oak dusted lawn with a large gothic revival structure that loomed over the trees. The first story windows were dark and shuttered, but light poured from the arches of the third floor windows like sun cresting over a mountain.
"You see it?" Luke came up behind her.
"It looks more like a castle than a hospital."
"Stick with me Clary," he ordered, "The others will protect us."
"What am I supposed to do?" I interrupted, "Stand guard out here. I'm here to fight too." I sliced my seraph blade through the chain and lock that was holding the front gate shut.
"Go," Luke called out to the pack members and they surged forward.
We made it halfway across the lawn before Alaric tilted his head up and paused the group, "The stench of death is heavy in the air." It was then that I noticed dark figures lurking on the front porch, making their way down the steps towards us.
"Forsaken," Luke pushed Clary behind him and the pack closed in around them, beginning to transform from humans into wolves.
I readied my crossbow and aimed ahead as we surged forward and the fight began. A forsaken was rolling on the ground, struggling with one of the pack members who seemed to howl in pain. I tried to steady my hand, but they were going at it too quickly for me to guarantee that I wouldn't accidentally hit the wolf. I saw another one of the corpses lurching down the steps and shot my bolt, the tip sunk into its eye and it let out a gurgling cry before pulling the arrow out.
We continued to move across the lawn that was now being stained with blood. Alaric was now tearing one of the forsaken apart and it was then that one of the creatures managed to get through the protective circle. I almost had a bolt ready to fly when a flash of silver got between it and Clary. Gretel was now rolling and tumbling with the creature, but it was too strong and managed to toss her through the air to crumple at the base of a tree. Luke pushed Clary to Alaric who tried to block her from seeing.
My finger almost pulled the trigger, but my focus was broken when the stench of death overwhelmed me. Somehow a forsaken managed to get to me and rammed me with its shoulder, sending me falling to the ground and my bow skidded from my hand. I reached for it, but heard a cry. Gretel was dead, the lights in her eyes fading to grey. I felt a sharp pain in my side as the forsaken kicked me and I tumbled through the bloody grass. The salt of blood was bitter on my lips as I reached to my side and pulled out a blade, "Leliel" I called out and the blad burned brightly, slashing through the feet of the creature and severing the head from its shoulders.
Luke had defeated the forsaken that had killed Gretel and Alaric hurried Clary up the steps. I dashed after them and met Luke at the base of the steps giving him an apologetic look. "Thank you for taking care of her," Luke turned to Alaric.
"I'm going with you," Alaric fought.
"Alaric no."
"You are the pack leader, I am your second now that Gretel is dead. It would not be right to let you go alone."
"I…" Luke looked at Clary and back at Alaric.
"I'm here too," I slashed my seraph blade through the air, "Professionally trained for this sort of thing."
"I need you out here Alaric, I'm sorry but that's an order."
Alaric gave him a stern look, but stepped aside.
The hospital door was a heavy carved wood with roses and curved runes. It gave in with a popping noise when Luke kicked at it and we hurried inside. We looked back one more time to see a lawn filled with bodies as the door creaked closed.
The entryway was lit with only a single torch and the silence was eerie compared to the sound of battle. The air inside was fresh compared to the humid blood-scented air from outside. Clary was gasping.
"Clary are you alright?" Luke placed a hand on her shoulder.
"It's just, Gretel…"
"She was only a Downworlder."
"Shut up!" Clary almost shouted, "You shouldn't have said that. I don't think like that."
"That's good, I was worried that all that time with the Lightwoods may have rubbed off on you."
"They don't think like that either," I argued, "The kids are all pretty nice. Maryse and Robert may have different opinions, but Alec and Isabelle are great Shadowhunters."
"I'm glad to hear it," Luke tried to remove the torch from its holder, but it wouldn't budge. Clary rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a stone that blazed with light between her fingers when she held it up, "Witchlight?"
"Jace gave it to me."
"It has been years since I have seen witchlight," Luke smiled, "Follow me."
Our shadows were oddly elongated along the walls as the light from the witchlight shone brightly. We found a winding staircase and found an elongated corridor lined with doorways and torches. Clary placed her hand over the witchlight, and it blinked out as she returned it to her pocket.
There were fresh boot prints on the floor leading through the hall. The first room we tried was empty, but must have faced out onto the lawn as the sound of battle was loud through the window. The next room was filled with weapons ranging from broadswords to maces. Moonlight shimmered off the steel blades that lined the tables. "Do you think Valentine uses all of these?" Clary gasped.
"I doubt it," Luke took in a breath admiring the stash, "They are probably for his army." The third room was a bedroom with blue hangings and a persian blue, black, and grey rug. On the bed laid a woman that looked not unlike Clary, but older. She was on her back with one hand thrown carefully across her chest. Her hair spread out across the pillow and she wore a white night dress. Her breaths were regular and quiet. "Mom!" Clary screamed and flung herself forward.
"Wait," Luke threw his arm out to stop her, "We have to be careful."
Clary glared at him, but followed his gaze and noticed that there were silver manacles around Jocelyn's wrists and ankles, the ends of their chains sunk deep into the floor on the sides of the bed. The table next to the bed had numerous tubes and bottles. There was one that linked a vile to Jocelyn's arm and Clary laid across her mom. Luke was beside her and ran his fingers across her shoulder, "She isn't drugged. Some kind of spell I think. I can't get her out though, the manacles are silver."
"The weapons room had axes," Clary remembered they could…"
"Those chains are unbreakable," the voice that spoke from the door was low and gritty. A man stood in the doorway in a robe that was covered in blood, "Greymark, what a nice surprise."
"Blackwell," Luck sneered, "If you're surprised, you're an idiot. I didn't exactly arrive quietly."
Blackwell's cheeks flushed, "Clan leader again are you? Can't break yourself of the habit of getting Downworlders to do your dirty work. Valentine's troops are busy strewing pieces of them across the lawn, and you're up here, safe with your girlfriends." He sneered toward Clary, "That one's a little young for you Lucian."
Clary's hands balled into fists as my throwing knife narrowly missed the tip of Blackwell's nose. He glared at me and seemed ready to lunge.
"I wouldn't exactly call them troops Blackwell," Luke drew his attention back, "Their Forsaken, tormented, once human, beings. If I remember correctly, the Clave looks poorly on all that. I can't imagine they'll be too pleased."
"Damn the Clave!" growled Blackwell, "We don't need them and their half-breed tolerating ways. Besides, the Forsaken won't be Forsaken much longer. Once Valentine uses the cup on them, they'll be Shadowhunters good as the rest of us. Better than the Clave is passing off. Downworlder lovers." He bared his teeth.
"If that is his plan for the cup," muttered Luke, "Why hasn't he done it already? What is he waiting for?"
Blackwell's eyebrows went up, "Didn't you know, he's got his…"
A silky laugh interrupted him. He was dressed all in black, "Enough Blackwell, you talk too much. Interesting move Greymark, I didn't think you would have the stomach to lead your newest clan in on a suicide mission."
"Jocelyn, what has he done with her?
"I thought you didn't care."
"I don't see what he wants with her now," Luke went on, "He's got the cup, she can't be of further use. Valentine was never one for pointless murder. Now murder with a point, that would be a different story."
The man shrugged, "It makes no difference to us what he does with her. She was his wife, perhaps he hates her, that's a point."
"Let her go," said Luke, "And we'll leave with her. Call the clan off, I'll owe you one."
"No!" Clary's furious outburst brought all eyes on her, "Jace is here somewhere. We can't leave him."
Blackwell chuckled, "Jace, never heard of a Jace. Now, I could ask Pangborn to let her out, but I'd rather not. She was always a bitch to me Jocelyn was. Thought she was better than the rest of us. She only married him so that she could turn it around on us all."
"Disappointed you didn't get to marry him yourself Blackwell?" Luke jabbed.
Rage was clear on Blackwell's face, but, in a flash, Luke seized a scalpel from the bedside table and flung it across the room. It flipped twice before sinking, point first, into Blackwell's throat. He gagged and fell to his knees, hand to his throat which was spewing scarlet blood. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came from it was blood as he toppled forward.
"Oh dear," said Pangborn staring at the fallen body of his comrade, "How unpleasant."
Blood was spreading across the floor as Luke whispered something to Clary. "The keys Pangborn," Luke said.
"Or what? You'll throw a syringe at me? There was only one blade on that table. No," he reached behind him, removing a sword from its sheath, "I'm afraid that if you want the keys you'll have to come and get them. Not because I care for Jocelyn, but only because I've been looking forward to killing you for years."
He stepped forward into the room, his blade flashed, a spear of lightning in the moonlight. Luke stretched a hand out toward Clary, it was elongated and his nails were elongated. He was about to change and Clary darted out of the room. Luke was part wolf now and in a heated battle with Pangborn as I darted with Clary out of the room. We dashed to the weapons room and Clary tried to pull multiple weapons form their spots, but nothing worked. Magic held all of the weapons in place. We made it back to the staircase and decided to proceed up towards the light where we saw a flicker of movement.
We reached the last landing. It was silent without any sound of the battle from outside. Clary seemed drawn to the last room on the left. The room was like something from the past. The walls gleamed as if they had just been polished and the elongated dining room table was set with delicate china. An ornate gold framed mirror was on the far wall between two oil paintings in heavy frames. The plates on the tables were filled with food and at the end of the room stood Jace, lit with the moonlight from the window.
"Jace," Clary gasped. He turned, dropping the curtain. "Jace," she repeated and darted toward him, his arms wrapped tightly around her.
"Clary, what are you doing here?"
"I came for you," her voice was muffled into his shirt.
"You shouldn't have," his grip on her loosened as he took a step back, "My god, you idiot. What a thing to do."
"We should get going," I interrupted the reunion.
"How did you both even find me?" Jace's eyes met mine before returning to Clary.
"Luke," she answered.
"So those are…" he frowned, "You came with the wolf clan?"
"Luke's, he's a Werewolf."
"I know, I should have guessed. Where is he?"
"Downstairs."
"He's going to have to call them off. There's been a misunderstanding."
"What? You kidnapped yourself?" I muttered.
"Come on Jace," Clary yanked at his wrist.
It was then that Clary realized that he did not look like a prisoner. When he was taken his hair was stained with blood and ichor. He had cuts on his arms, but now the were gone, and he was clean.
"You're all bandaged up. Valentine seems to be taking really good care of you," she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said, "My father gave me these clothes."
"Jace, your father is dead."
"No," he answered. She shook her head. "I thought he was, but he isn't. It was all a mistake."
"Is this something Valentine told you? He's a liar Jace. If he is telling you that your father is alive, it is a lie to get you to do what he wants."
"I've seen my father. I talked to him. He gave me this," he tugged on his clean white shirt, "Hodge lied to me, he isn't dead."
Clary looked around the room, "If your father is in this place, then where is he? Did Valentine kidnap him too?"
There was a flicker of light in his eyes, "My father…"
The door behind us creaked open and a man entered the room. It was Valentine, his silvery close cropped hair sheened like a helmet, and his mouth was hard. He wore a waist sheath on his belt and the hilt of a sword protruded from it. "So," he said, "Have you gathered your things?" His hand rested on the sword, "Our Forsaken can only hold off the wolves for so…" His eyes rested on Clary, a flicker of astonishment in his eyes. "What is this?"
"Clary reached for the dagger at her waist and drew her hand back. Jace caught at her wrist.
"No."
"But Jace."
"Clary, this is my father."