Jace caught her the moment she fell. Some part of Clary felt hurt to see him holding Jaci so carefully when he would not even give her a second glance.

"Jaci?" Jace asked, shaking her a little.

"Your sister is tired, son, this is what happens when people overexert themselves. I am sure she will recover soon enough," Valentine said, calling Clary's attention to him fully for the first time. He was tall and strong which contradicted his delicate pale looks.

"Sister?" Clary echoed, looking from Jace to Jaci.

Jace had Jaci cradled in his arms in a particularly non-sibling way. Clary gripped the dagger in her hand tighter. This had not been what she was expecting. She had thought her and Luke would charge in, break Jace, Jaci, and Jocelyn free, and get out. Possibly recovering the Mortal Cup in the meanwhile. What she was not expecting was a defeated, timid Jace holding an apparently drugged Jaci with Jocelyn chained to a bed on the floor below.

"Son, would you care to tell me who this is?" Valentine asked silkily, eyes sliding over Clary. "One of the Lightwood children, perhaps?"

"No," Jace said with a look at Clary, calculating. "This is Clary. Clarissa Fray. She's a friend of mine. She's my sister?" he added the last part as a question.

Valentine ignored it. "Where did you come by that blade, young lady?" he asked with amusement.

Clary held her head up defiantly. "Jace gave it to me."

"Of course he did," said Valentine with a smile. "May I see it?"

"No!"

Jace shifted Jaci's body so that he had a free hand to pluck the dagger from Clary's fingertips with ease. Carrying both the girl and the weapon, he handed it to Valentine. "Here you go, Father."

Valentine took the dagger in his hands and studied it closely. "This is a kindjal, a Circassian dagger. This particular one used to be one of a matched pair. Here, see the star of the Morgensterns, carved into the blade. I'm surprised the Lightwoods never noticed it."

"I never showed it to them," Jace said. "They let me have my own private things. They didn't pry."

"Of course they didn't." Valentine handed the blade back to Jace who took it awkwardly. "They thought you were Michael Wayland's son."

Jace was trying his best to put the dagger in his belt but Clary was worried that he might injure Jaci in the process. "So did I," he said softly, still struggling.

"Give Jaelyn to me," Valentine ordered, holding his arms out to take the girl.

"No!" Clary shouted. He was not going to take her sister.

But Jace just backed away from his father. "No, it's all right. I've got her."

Valentine nodded. Clary thought she saw a terrible flash of pure anger in his eyes, but she had no way of being certain. "Perhaps," Valentine said, "it would be a good idea for you to sit down now, Clary?"

"No."

"As you like." Valentine sank into the chair at the head of the table but neither Jace nor Clary moved to sit as well. Valentine raised his eyebrows at Jace, but Jace did not move. Clary found it oddly reassuring that he was so protective of her sister, even if he seemed to trust Valentine. "You are going to be hearing some things that might make you wish you had taken a chair."

"I'll let you know if that happens," she informed Valentine. If Jace could stand while holding a person, Clary could stand.

"Very well," Valentine said with an unhappy glance at Jace who was standing still as a statue.

Clary glanced and Jaci and saw her hair – which had fallen over her face – flutter with her breathing. Clary wanted to brush it away like her mother would when one of them was sick but she did not dare try to touch Jaci with Jace as her protector at the moment.

"Clary," Valentine said, testing the name. "Short for Clarissa? Not a name I would have chosen."

"I don't really care what you would have chosen," Clary responded. Father or not, this many had not raised her.

"I am sure that you don't," Valentine replied with a calculating smile."

"You're not Jace's father," Clary said boldly, in denial. "His father was Michael Wayland. He had the Wayland ring-"

"Ah yes," Valentine cut her off, glancing at the ring on Jace's hand. "The ring. Funny, isn't it, how an M worn upside down resembles a W? Of course, if you'd bothered to think about it, you'd probably have thought it strange that the symbol of the Wayland family would be a falling star. But not at all strange that it would be the symbol of the Morgensterns."

Clary blinked, processing. "I have no idea what you mean."

Valentine sighed tragically, his large hands forming a peak before his face. "I forget how regrettably lax mundane education is. Morgenstern means 'morning star.' As in 'How are thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!'"

Clary swallowed her fear. "You mean Satan."

"Or any great power lost out of a refusal to serve," he said benignly. "As mine was."

"That was all your fault!"

There was a movement beside her as Jace gently set Jaci down on the floor, pulling her hair away from her face tenderly before looking to Clary. "Just listen to him, will you? It's not like you thought. Hodge lied to us."

Clary was bristling. Why won't he see? "I know," she said. "He betrayed us to Valentine. He was Valentine's pawn."

Jace shook his head sadly, sitting next to Jaci's still form and fidgeting nervously with her hand. "No. No, Hodge was the one who wanted the Mortal Cup all along. He was the one who sent the Raveners after our mother. My father – Valentine only found out about it afterward, and came to stop him. He brought your- our mother here to heal her, not hurt her."

"And you believe that crap?" Clary demanded. If Jaci was awake then she could set him straight. Jace always listened to Jaci. "Jaci doesn't just faint, Jace. What happened to her?"

"Clarissa, your sister has been through a lot today. It's only to be expected," Valentine said calmly.

But Clary knew she was finally getting through to Jace.

"Father…" Jace began cautiously, not taking his eyes off Jaci.

"He's not your father!" Clary hissed.

Any progress she had been making abruptly vanished. "Why are you so determined not to believe us?"

"Because she loves you," said Valentine; simply and terribly.

Jace blinked and looked up at Clary who was blushing miserably.

"What?"

"She loves you," Valentine repeated in that same terrible tone. Clary desperately wanted to die. Not only did Jace know how she felt but he also now knew that they were siblings. She could not bear to see him look at her with disgust.

"Clary?" Jace asked cautiously. He had heard everything she had said to Jaci but he had thought it was just a crush but to hear Valentine say… He did not know what to think and when Clary did not answer, he turned his attention back to Jaci. Clary was right, Jaci had still been conscious after being stung by a Ravener. Jaci was the one who had broken her leg without crying. A Jaci who fainted from overexertion did not exist. A Jaci who coldly ignored him did not exist either, now that he thought about it. "Father," Jace said in a calculating tone, still studying the silent girl.

"Yes, Jonathan?"

"Why," he asked coldly, "is Jaelyn not waking up?"

"We've been over this, Jonathan," Valentine said with patience. "She simply is not trained for the life of a Shadowhunter. She has low endurance. She is not as strong as we are."

"That's not true."

"What was that?"

"I said, that's not true," Jace repeated in a stronger voice. "And she's not your daughter."

A look of rage crossed Valentine's face but he suppressed it. "Now why would you suggest a think like that?" He paused dreadfully. "Is it because you love her?"

Jace did not answer and kept telling himself that Jaci was not his sister. She had said so herself, giving proof. Genetics and time could not be dismissed. Valentine had to be mistaken.

"I'm sorry, Jona-"

"She's not his sister," Clary spoke up suddenly, cutting Valentine off. "She was adopted by my mother, and you know it."

"A child of my wife's is a child of mine," Valentine said with a wave of his hand, as though dismissing the fact that he had overlooked that Jaci was not actually a blood relative.

Two things became painfully obvious to Jace. The first was that Valentine had lied to him to at least some extent. The second was that Valentine had poisoned Jaci. He was filled with rage towards the man he called father, but he kept it in check, maybe he would explain. Maybe there was a reason for all of this.

"Fate has borne us to this convergence. Our family, together again," Valentine continued on. "We can use the Portal. Go to Idris. Back to the manor house."

Jace forced himself to nod, not allowing his father to see the doubt.

"We'll be together there, as we should be."

"Lovely," said a sarcastic voice. "Your comatose wife, shell-shocked son, and your daughter who hates your guts. Not to mention the adopted daughter you poisoned. I think we'll get along great, don't you? Why don't we leave right this bloody moment? Why wait around until I can walk again?" It was Jaci, coming to.

"Jaci," Clary breathed in relief, dropping beside her sister and clutching the hand Jace did not have possession of. "We're not going anywhere with you, and neither is our mother," she added with a glare to Valentine.

"Jocelyn hardly counts as Jaelyn's mothe-"

A large crash that shook the hospital stopped Valentine mid-sentence.


I'd regained my sense of hearing when Valentine had been calling me weak, saying my endurance was low. Maybe his criticism had made me mad enough to fight his freaking poison but Peliel's extra blood probably had more to do with it. My eyes had opened not long after and I became aware that I was lying on the floor with Jace holding my hand and Clary standing nearby. The moment I could, I'd interjected my thoughts into the conversation and gotten my hand nearly crushed by Jace who apparently wasn't aware of my livelihood.

"Father, they're-"

"They're on their way," Valentine said. I saw him as he stood up and moved towards the door.

"Who's on their way?" I asked Clary.

She looked at me with wide, shining eyes. "Luke."

"Help me up," I ordered them. If someone was coming to burst into the room it seemed like a good idea to meet it whilst on my feet.

"But-" Jace protested.

"Help me up," I insisted.

As they got me to my feet, I felt the wave of unawareness come up, but I fought back and stayed conscious. My eyes focused just in time to see the door flung open and there was Luke, standing on the threshold dripping blood.

"Luke!" Clary cried, running to him. I wanted to follow her, but Jace's arm kept me pinned to his side.

I saw Luke hug her back before carefully detatching her. "I'm all over blood," he explained. "Don't worry – it isn't mine."

"Then whose is it?" Valentine asked, watching Clary and Luke closely.

"Pangborn's."

Valentine feigned a look of pain and I almost growled at him. "I see. Did you tear out his throat with your teeth?"

"Actually, I killed him with this," Luke said, holding up a blue-hilted dagger that looked oddly like the one Jace had given Clary. "Do you remember it?"

The Jaw Twitch of Anger. "I do."

"You handed it to me seventeen years ago and told me to end my life with it," Luke continued closely. "And I nearly did."

"Do you expect me to deny it?" The award winning actor made his voice sound pained. I let out a hiss and Jace shook me to be quiet. "I tried to save you from yourself, Lucian. I made a grave mistake. If only I'd had the strength to kill you myself, you could have died a man."

"Like you?" Luke demanded in a bitter tone. "A man who chains his unconscious wife to a bed in the hopes of torturing her for information when she wakes up? That's your bravery?"

Jaw twitch. "I didn't torture her. She is chained for her own protection."

"Oh yes," I added. "That makes perfect sense. Whenever I'm afraid of something, I chain myself to a bed for protection."

"Jaci," Luke said in a warning tone.

"Jaelyn is still recovering," Valentine said without looking at me. "She is not aware of the things she says."

"Did you know that when people lie they tend to use less contractions because they think it'll make them sound more sincere?" I asked.

"Shush," Jace muttered quietly.

Valentine ignored me like what he does when he knows he's wrong. "I loved her. I never would have hurt her. It was you who turned her against me."

"She didn't need me to turn her against you. She learned to hate you on her own," Luke said with a laugh.

"That is a lie!" Valentine roared, drawing the sword from his sheath and leveling it at Luke's heart.

"No!"

Jace took a step forward, bringing me with him. "Father-"

"Jonathan, be silent!" Valentine shouted.

"Jonathan?" Luke whispered, staring at Jace in amazement.

"Don't you call me that," Jace said, eyes flashing. "I'll kill you myself if you call me that."

He had threatened Luke? I pushed away from him and stood a couple feet apart.

"Your mother would be proud."

"I don't have a mother," Jace said harshly. "The woman who gave birth to me walked away from me before I learned to remember her face. I was nothing to her, so she is nothing to me. She replaced me." He gestured angrily towards me.

"Your mother is not the one who walked away from you," Luke said quietly. "Nor did she replace you." He looked to Valentine. "I would have thought even you were above using your own flesh and blood as bait. I suppose I was wrong."

"That's enough," Valentine ordered. "Let go of my daughter, or I'll kill you where you stand."

"This is wrong," I muttered as Luke shoved Clary away from him and the two men began to duel. "Stop her," I said to Jace, doing my best to nod towards Clary who was moving towards the door. By now the front door would be broken down which would mean Forsaken on the other side of that door. Jace, knowing exactly what I meant, was in front of the door – blocking Clary – in half a second. His distraction was exactly what I needed. I needed to get Valentine to do something to break Jace's thin belief in him, and it would have to be something drastic.

Jace was arguing intensely with Clary on the other side of the room but I couldn't hear words over the clashes of Luke's and Valentine's swords. I watched the fight closely, eyes doing their best to track every movement but not quiet managing it completely. If only they would pause for a moment…

Luke broke past Valentine's defenses and caught him across the shoulder, causing Valentine to bleed freely.

"A true hit," Valentine laughed. "I hardly thought you had it in you, Lucian."

"You taught me that move yourself."

"But that was years ago," Valentine continued delicately, "and since then, you've hardly had need of a knife, have you? Not when you have claws and fangs at your disposal."

"All the better to tear your heart out with."

It was like a fairytale gone wrong. Little Red Riding Hood was now a crazy, murderous man and the wolf was someone I considered a relative. At that moment, Jace shouted and Luke glanced over towards him. Valentine took the opportunity to strike.

"No!" Moving faster than I'd ever had in my life, I knocked Valentine's arm aside so that the blade skimmed across Luke's skin shallowly. Valentine's furious, fathomless eyes turned to me and he raised the sword, ready to dispatch me in a single stroke.

I waited until he began his swing. I didn't drop to the floor as would be expected, I jumped, tucking my legs and miraculously clearing Valentine's head. There was a resounding clang and Valentine cry out. When I landed crouched in front of him, his sword was no longer in his hand but a few feet away on the floor. Near it was Jace's dagger.

"I think," Jace said quietly, looking at me but speaking to Valentine, "you should leave."

Valentine's face was a mask of pure rage as he stared at his son in disbelief. "What did you say?"

Jace reached down to pull me up so I was standing beside him, facing Valentine. "I think you heard me, Father."

"Jonathan Morgenstern-"

Moving even faster than I had, Jace suddenly had the sword in his hand, pointed to Valentine's throat. "That's not my name. My name is Jace Wayland."

I half wanted to run around dancing and singing. Jace was back!

"Wayland?" Valentine roared, spit flying. "You have no Wayland blood! Michael Wayland was a stranger to you-"

"So are you," Jace said evenly. "Now move." He signaled with the sword to the left.

"Never. I will not take orders from a child."

Without moving the sword, Jace pushed me towards Clary with his right hand. "I am a very well-trained child. You instructed me yourself in the precise art of killing. I only need to move two fingers to cut your throat, did you know that?" He paused momentarily. "I suppose you did."

"You're skilled enough," Valentine said dismissively, not daring to move an inch. "But you could not kill me. You have always been softhearted."

"Perhaps he couldn't," Luke commented, moving up behind Jace. "But I could. And I'm not entirely sure he could stop me."

For the first time I saw a flicker of fear in Valentine's eyes as he faced the four of us, standing between him and the door. And then he began to back up.

"We need the Cup back!" I cried. "Where is it?"

Valentine smiled at me, standing directly in front of the mirror now, Jace having followed him still held the sword at his throat. "In idris," Valentine said. "Where you will never find it."

Jace must have seen me in the mirror as I took a step closer. "Jaci, stay over there."

I ignored him and moved to stand just behind him, pulling a seraph blade from his belt.

"Jaci," he said with exasperation.

"She's like her mother," Valentine said, one hand behind him searching the mirror's frame. "Doesn't like to do what she's told."

"Funny how that works."

"Where is the Cup?" Jace demanded.

I knew something was terribly wrong when Valentine smiled. "Not far. Through the looking glass, one might say." He dropped his hand and the image in the mirror changed, displaying a meadow scene. "I told you it was not far," he said, and stepped backward, the mirror shattering behind him.


I leapt out of way of the raining glass but Jace stood motionless, allowing the shards to pile up around his feet and staring at where the mirror had been. The sword fell from his hand and he bent to pick up a larger piece of the Portal. When he turned it in his hands I caught a small glance of sky.

"Don't," Clary said, stepping forward. "There wasn't anything you could have done."

"Yes, there was," he said roughly, still examining the glass in his hands. "I could have killed him."

"But you didn't," I said quietly, kneeling beside him, not thinking about the glass pressing into my legs through the dress.

His head fell another inch lower. "You don't think I know that?"

I gently took his hands in mine, carefully prying his fingers off of the broken piece of glass. He'd cut his palm on it.

"Jace," I said, scolding him softly, "you've hurt yourself."

He glanced down at the narrow incisions and I kissed his palm. I noticed then that the lower hem of my dress was ripped. I thought nothing of it and ripped off a narrow section, binding it securely around Jace's hand.

"I'm going to talk to Luke," Clary announced to us and moved off.

The moment her back was turned, Jace pulled me to him and I clung to him as tightly as I could.

"When he told me you were my sister," he said in my ear, voice rough, "I wanted to die. Anything would have been better than that. Anything."

"You saved me," I pointed out, closing my eyes and burying my face in his neck.

"No. You saved me."