There was just something…off about empty parking lots in the middle of the night. Especially this one. Usually, parking spaces were places of movement and flurry, always in motion, always changing. But during night they suddenly became static, as if they had been frozen in time until the sun would rise again and free them from this spell.
Maybe it was also the lack of cover that set Clary on edge. There was nothing but open spaces of asphalt that left no room for cover except for some decorative trees. They would be exposed during the whole exchange, unable to defend themselves should Valentine decide to break their truce. Maybe that was exactly why he had chosen this place.
"He isn't here," Alec remarked.
"It was to be expected," Catarina commented. "Valentine is someone who enjoys being in control of situations. Him being the last to appear is just another point to drive home who has the upper hand during all of this."
"How long do you think we have to wait?" Clary wanted to know, a frown marring her face. She wanted this to be over and done with. She wanted her mother back, wanted to fall into her embrace and just pretend for a moment that everything was as it used to be without Shadowhunters, magic and a megalomaniac villain out for all of them.
"Not too long," Catarina spoke. "While he may enjoy his mind games, he also cannot risk that we just pack up and leave." She smiled at Clary, all teeth and no charm. "After all we have something he so desperately covets."
And as if the older woman could predict the future it was in this moment that a portal on the other end of the parking lot opened, a lot bigger than the portal through which they had come through. Clary glanced at Catarina, who looked pained at the reminder that one of her fellow warlock either worked with Valentine voluntarily or by force.
"He will answer for this one way or another," the warlock woman spoke when she noticed Clary looking at her. Clary wasn't sure if she meant Valentine or the warlock working with him or both. One thing was for sure: She definitely didn't want to be on Catarina's wrong side ever.
W hen Clary turned her gaze back, there were figures emerging from the portal. Shadowhunters, all dressed in the same uniform as Alec, Izzy and Jace, the only thing denoting their apostasy the black circle on their necks.
And yet, as Clary took them in, there was something disingenuous about them. Maybe it was their willingness to proudly bear the mark of someone who planned to annihilate whole species of living beings for just existing outside his definition of how the world should be. Maybe it was the cruelty that hid behind their eyes, barely chained by whatever orders Valentine had given them, their hands on the pommels of their swords as if they were ready to just start slaughtering them.
Or maybe it was all just in Clary's head because those where the people that were responsible for everything bad that had happened to her over the last few weeks. Maybe one of them even had been amongst the group that had destroyed her home and taken her mother, maybe one of them had fought against Dot and had taken and tortured her. On the hands of every single one of them could stick the blood of people Clary knew – of Magnus' and Catarina's friends.
But there was still one person missing. Dread washed over Clary as she noticed that Valentine himself had yet to make an entrance. The man who was responsible for all of this, the man who held her mother captive, the man who was her father.
Clary had though that she had worked through that particular revelation long ago, but apparently it wasn't so. It had been easy back then, when Valentine had been just a name, just a nightmare that Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike told themselves and she had no real connection to the man. He may have donated his sperm but she had been raised by her mother and Luke and Valentine had no right to call himself her anything.
She still believed that, but now that she was about to see him in the flesh, there was a flicker of uncertainty in her mind. She had never understood the need of adopted children to find their real parents when they had a family that loved and cherished them even if they weren't related by blood, but now that she was about to meet her father herself, she felt like she understood now.
Because even though he had never been part of her life, Valentine had still cast a large shadow over her life, had still influenced it even without being present, more so in the Shadow World where Clary would always tread in his shadow no matter what. His absence had formed her, because her mother's decision had been mainly based on what would keep Clary out of his reach.
How much of her was him? How much of her was her mother? How much her was she herself?
Maybe finally putting a face to the man would put her mind at ease, would help her to finally cut herself off from the tendrils of influence Valentine still exerted into her life. Maybe she would finally find closure.
Valentine and the Shadowhunters may be firmly rooted in the past, but Clary would look into the future and forge her own path. She would not be defined by a legacy she didn't want. That she owed to herself and those who had fought for her to be free.
"He'll try to get under your skin," Catrina warned them, her voice a whisper but carried to them by small bits of magic. "He'll know things about you, you'd rather keep hidden, offer you desires you sworn you had long lost. It's his specialty and why so many Shadowhunters strayed off the path. Do not let his words enter your heart."
Alec's lips were pressed into a thin line, Jace was gripping his swords so tightly that his knuckles had turned white and even Izzy's gaze held nothing but worry and dread while she stood completely motionless.
And then he stepped through the portal. Clary instantly knew that this had to be Valentine because of the reference the other Circle members showed towards the figure. Without a single word, without a single glance, he commanded their implicit obedience as they parted for him.
He didn't look like Clary had expected him to be. To be honest, she didn't really have a picture of him made up in her mind, but the tales of the people around her had built up some uber-human being, a nightmare made flesh with a tongue of silver and a gaze that could turn his enemies into dust.
But the man in front of her didn't look like that at all. He looked more like the owner of an independent bookstore than a real-life villain. Bald, with dark stubble on his cheeks and a piercing gaze his body had a more sturdy build, but the way he moved spoke of a predator, all smoothness and grace.
And then behind him a lone figure floated through the portal.
"Mom," Clary couldn't help but gasp. Her mother looked like she was just sleeping, her eyes closed and her hands folded over her stomach as she hovered in the air behind Valentine, her hair sprawling around her head like she was subsumed underwater.
A hand was laid atop her shoulder and when Clary turned her head, she found Jace standing next to her. In this moment she didn't care if it was because he wanted to offer her support or just keep her from storming over the parking lot to get her mother, she appreciated it nevertheless.
Everyone was present, but Valentine's portal didn't close. So whoever warlock had opened it for him was still on the other side and kept it open for Valentine to return.
Smart, Clary supposed, because it denied them the chance to learn the identity of the poor soul who Valentine had coerced into helping him.
Valentine, meanwhile, let his gaze wander over their group, his face showing nothing but mild disdain. When his gaze landed on Clary though, she could feel her stomach turn as he looked at her with unbridled glee and…pride.
"Clarissa." His voice was dark and smooth, giving no indication as to what kind of soul was hiding behind it. "I'm so happy to finally lay my eyes upon you after your mother has kept you hidden from me for so many years."
"What have you done to her?" Clary demanded to know, glad that her voice didn't waver and betray her nervousness.
"I would never harm the mother of my only daughter," Valentine replied, sounding so sincere. "She's in a magically induced sleep, something your pet warlock should be able to reverse in no time." He looked at Catarina and for a short moment his mask broke as he looked at her with nothing but disgust.
"Do you have what I demanded?" he wanted to know.
Clary pushed her hand into her bag and pulled out their forgery of the Mortal Cup. Glee and greed gleamed in Valentine's eyes as he took in what he had always longed to possess. For a short moment Clary wondered if he would just order his followers to attack them, just to get the Cup.
"I have the Cup," Clary announced, raising the Cup above her head so that everyone in the parking lot could see. "Now, give me my mother."
"I'm a man of my word," Valentine replied, more to his own followers than to Clary and the other Shadowhunters. "Walk towards me, I'll do the same. And when we meet up in the middle, I shall have the Cup and you can have your mother back."
Steeling herself with a deep breath, Clary started to walk forward just as Valentine did the same, her mother floating behind him as if she was pulled along by an invisible cord. And even though it were barely twenty meters between her and Valentine, it felt to Clary as if she just could not close the distance between them, as if the space separating them grew wider and wider with every step she took. She felt like a wanderer in the desert underneath the blazing sun with no water in sight, only that it wasn't thirst clawing at her throat, but fear and apprehension.
But it was all in her mind, anyway, because after what felt eternity, finally there were only a few steps left between her and Valentine.
"The Cup, if you'd please," he spoke pleasantly, stretching out his hand.
"I want my mother first," Clary retorted.
"I don't think you're in any position to make demands," Valentine chided her as if he was speaking to an unruly child. As if he didn't see her as equal, but as a child playing an adults' game. "Give me the Cup and you can have your mother." The worst of it all, though, was that he was right. Clary didn't care for the Cup. She only cared about her mother and getting her back.
So, with great hesitation, she handed over the Cup, careful not to let her fingers touch Valentine's, as if the simple contact of skin could somehow taint her beyond recovery. Valentine's hand closed around the Cup and from up close Clary could recognise the utter look of delight that flashed over his face before he composed himself again.
"Now my mother," Clary demanded.
"I've transferred her tether to you," Valentine told her dispassionately. "But you better hurry up, the spell keeping her afloat will run out in a few minutes." Clary frowned at him.
"You should be at my side," Valentine continued. "You're my daughter and this is the foundation of the legacy I'll build for you."
"I don't want it," Clary retorted.
"Don't you see that we both are predestined for greater things?"
"I don't see greatness in murder," Clary spit out. "Only depravity and evil."
Valentine shook his head, as if he had expected her answer but was disappointed by it nevertheless. "One day, you'll see that all I did, I did to save us all."
And then, without bothering to give her another glance, he turned on his heels and walked back towards his followers. When he was near them, he stopped and stretched his hand into the sky, presenting the Cup for all of them to see.
A roar went through the crowd and Clary could just imagine the adoration and awe these rogue Shadowhunters must feel towards Valentine.
It was sickening.
So, she, too, turned around, carefully, to make sure that the floating figure of her mother would indeed follow her – which she did. Faster and faster Clary's steps became until she was nearly running towards the others. She knew that it wasn't dignified and that it may appear as if she was afraid of Valentine (which she was), but she didn't care. She just wanted to be gone from this place so that she could take care of her mother and finally get her back. She didn't want to spend another single second in the presence of Valentine and his goons.
"Let's leave," she whispered when she reached the others.
Catarina just nodded and opened a portal. Clary stepped through, her mother following her. Then Izzy, Jace, Catrina and finally Alec.
The portal closed and the relief in the air was practically palpable as they all finally realised that the danger was over for now and their mission had been a success.
Clary felt like crying in relief. Valentine hadn't noticed their deceit and she finally had her mother back, but there were still a few steps to go before she could finally sink into her mother's embrace.
"Valentine...he said something about the spell keeping my mother afloat soon dissolving," she said, turning towards Catarina.
"I already took care of that," Catrina assured her. "Your mother will make it back safely."
"We've prepared a room," Izzy piqued in. "We didn't know in what condition we would get her back, so we thought better safe than sorry." She looked at Clary as if she wanted to apologise for their preparedness, but all Clary felt was thankfulness for their foresight.
"Then lead the way." They followed Izzy through the portal doors into the Institute. Clary had assumed that their entrance with an unconscious woman floating behind them would garner them some attention, but most Shadowhunters that were still present looked up only shortly and then, probably because it was in the middle of the night and they didn't want to bother with it, they just turned their gaze back towards their screens.
"This way." Izzy led them up the stairs, into the living area of the Institute until they reached a room that was currently unocCupied. "In here." They all stepped in – Alec as the last one closing the door behind himself – and Catarina slowly let Clary's mother descend onto the untouched bed.
"Can you...can you wake her up?" Clary asked, afraid that Valentine might have lied and that her mother's slumber wouldn't be as easily broken as he promised.
"I need to run some diagnostic spells," Catarina replied as she sat down on the bed next to her mother. "I need to make sure that the spell isn't layered." When she saw the two clueless expressions in front of her (because, of course, Izzy and Alec knew what she was talking about), she expounded further. "I need to make sure that whoever has cast this spell hasn't woven something else into it, for example something harmful that only activates itself the moment the primary spell is broken." Clary nodded in understanding.
Catarina laid her hand atop her mother's chest and closed her eyes. For a moment nothing happened until suddenly light started to glow from under Catarina's palms. It pulsated like the heartbeat of a living being, diminishing only to grow stronger again. It was mesmerising to watch.
"There I nothing but a powerful sleeping spell," Catarina finally announced. "I will lift it now." Clary just nodded, because suddenly her throat was so dry that she wouldn't have been able to speak even if she had wanted to.
Nothing grand happened when Catarina broke the spell. There was no lighting, no thunder, no sudden flares of wind or rattling furniture. For a moment Clary feared that Catarina's counter spell had not worked, but then she reminded herself that the older woman obviously knew what she was doing – after all she had spent decades healing others.
But then Clary's mother slowly opened her eyes.
"Clary?" she rasped as her gaze fell upon her daughter. "Is that you."
"Mom," Clary cried and finally she did what she wanted to do all along: She threw herself at her mother and engulfed her in a fierce hug. Despite having been held captive for so long, her mother still smelled of that all too familiar scent of dried aquarelle colours, cinnamon and freshly unpacked canvases – it smelled like the home that did not exist any longer and that Clary could never return to and just for this moment she just buried herself in it and tried to forget the world around her. She could hear her mother's heartbeat, could feel her warmth seeping through the fabric of her shirt and after a while she could feel her mother's arms closing around her.
Clary had never felt more protected than in this moment. It didn't matter that her mother had just woken up and could probably be blown over by a small breeze. It didn't matter that there were still a ton of unsolved problems, it didn't matter who or what was still out there.
The last time Clary had seen her mother was on her birthday before she had met up with Simon. Before she had entered Pandemonium and her life had been pulled on a trajectory that would lead her away from everything she had ever known. That Clary back then felt like a stranger to her, like she had dreamed that live until she had been finally woken up. In hindsight all her worries, her plans and hopes she had back then appeared so mundane compared to what was now and yet she found herself missing that part of her that was forever lost in the currents of time.
Her mother was the only connection to back then. The only person who knew the old Clary – except for Simon, but he had been part of this world long before her and she still felt like she was catching up to him, like he was always a little bit out of reach for her. But with her mother now at her side, Clary had no doubts that she would find her footing now and become the person she was always meant to be.
"Shhh," her mother soothed her, running her hand over Clary's head. "It's alright, I'm alright." After a while Clary let go off of her mother – albeit reluctantly – because she was well aware that the others were still around, more or less successfully pretending that they weren't intruding on an intimate moment.
"Mom, these are Alec, Izzy and Jace," Clary introduced the Shadowhunters. "And this is Catarina Loss.
"Shadowhunters and Warlocks?" her mother said. "Oh, Clary, what happened?"
"It's a long story," Clary replied. "You're in the New York Institute right now. You're safe." She tried to not think about the talk she needed to have with her mother about the fact that she had been kept in the dark about much of her heritage for nearly her whole life – about the fact that her mother had lied to her again and again and again.
"I wanted to tell you," Jocelyn whispered.
"Not now, mom," Clary insisted. She was saved by a sudden knock at the door. When she turned her head around she saw Simon, Magnus and Raphael enter the room, all of them thankfully unharmed. Looking back at her mother she was surprised by how…unsurprised her mother appeared to be. Not even a raised eyebrow at seeing her best mundane friend being in a Shadowhunter Institute.
"You knew," Clary suddenly realised. The lack of refute was evidence enough. "You knew about Simon."
"Wait, what?" Simon exclaimed. "By the way, I'm fine, thanks for asking and I'm also glad that you got your mother back." He waved at aforementioned mother. "Hi, Jocelyn."
"Hello, Simon," her mother greeted him back.
"If you plan on having any kind of discussion, please do it elsewhere," Catarina suddenly interrupted with the authority of someone used to deal with a agitated crowd. "Your mother has just come out of a magically induced sleep and we don't know if her captivity has left any effects on her."
"Did he do anything to you?" Clary wanted to know, full of worry.
"He kept me under a sleeping spell the whole time," Jocelyn told them.
"The whole time?" Simon wanted to know.
"The last thing I remember is the demon attacking me at home," her mother answered him.
"Are you sure?"
"Simon, she said she can't remember," Clary snapped. "She's been under a sleeping spell weeks, just leave it be."
"Out! All of you! Now!" No one dared to go against Catarina and soon they all found themselves on the hallway as the healer shut the door behind them.
"Let me just tell you how glad I am to see all of you still with everything attached to your body," Magnus told them, even though his eyes lingered on Alec.
"Well, our mission was a success, obviously," Alec replied. "How about yours?"
"We freed quite a few Downworlders from Valentine's captivity," Magnus proclaimed proudly. "And we also got our hands on the Book of the White."
