Clary woke up in darkness, she could smell the sour air of the city around her. She tried to move but pain tore through her chest. She lifted her hand but felt a heavy weight on it and heard the clank of a metal chain. She could hear voices talking softly in the distance but couldn't make them out. The last thing she remembered was a flash of light when the Forsaken's sword had gone through her back. Suddenly footsteps were coming toward her. Clary closed her eyes and pretended to be unconscious. She could hear light breathing. Someone knelt beside her, they sat quietly watching her for what seemed to be an eternity. Watching for what? She wondered.
"Clary, it's me; it's Mark." The voice whispered. "You must go from here."
She tried to speak but no words came out.
"You must go." Mark placed something in her hand. "Before they make you eat."
The familiar energy began to tingle through her body. As if it had a will of its own her hand began to move in the smooth lines of a rune. She could feel her energy ebbing, but her hand kept drawing as if it knew her very survival hung in the balance. Suddenly there was a flash of light and she felt herself falling.