Chapter 18
The cabin was located in a large clearing, surrounded on either side by wood. A well worn path winding towards the trees was the only clear trail that would eventually lead to the main road. It gave the cabin an appearance of being in a world all by itself. The night sky sparkled above Jonathan and Clary, the stars giving off plenty of light. They illuminated their surroundings and shone almost a spot light on the small house.
Jonathan's stomach tightened. Just looking at the house made him feel even sicker than he did already. To him, the cabin had actually been another world. A world where he was alone for hours at a time, sitting and wondering if his father would leave just like his mother had.
Jonathan shook the thoughts away and turned his attention to Clary. She was staring transfixed at their surroundings, that preoccupied gleam still in her eyes. Jonathan clenched his fists as he glanced to the knife she had put back in her belt. Would she turn on him? Was this where she felt she could carry out the deed to kill him?
Jonathan wasn't sure what had made him go to Renewicks earlier. When Jace and the Lightwoods had all left, Jonathan refused to think about Clary and had done his best to push the matter out of his mind. But then, without quite realizing it, he had gone there. Appeared there, almost as if summoned by that mark on the floor. It didn't make sense.
Clary began walking up the path, her eyes sweeping the clearing. Jonathan moved to lean back against a tree, watching her. He had no inkling as to what was going through her mind at the moment. The uncertainty filled him with anxiety. If you want me dead, then say so. Make up your damn mind…
Jonathan wasn't sure what was more concerning; Clary wanting him dead, or not wanting him dead. With the former, at least he knew what to expect. He could understand it, even resign himself to it. But the latter?
'I am asking you-as your sister- to please help me.'
What could she possibly want from him? What could she possibly trust in him for?
Jonathan's breath hitched as sudden stab of pain flared through his chest. He dug his heels into the dirt and his fingers into the tree bark behind him, forcing himself to focus. Clarissa- his sister- asked something of him. Whatever it was, he had to stay conscious enough to do it. Atonement. Redemption.
'Never trust your enemies,' Valentine instructed coldly. He withdrew his knife from the now dead werewolf's back. 'Never give them the power to manipulate you.'
Jonathan shook the memory from his head. I'm the enemy. I did the manipulating. He pushed himself away from the tree, crumbling more bark into his hand to distract himself from the pain in his chest. He walked toward Clary.
She was standing by the door, looking up at the upper floor of the cabin. She didn't turn her head as Jonathan approached. ''Coming in?''
''That a question or a demand?'' Clary's eyes flashed, but she didn't respond. She went to the door with her stele. ''There might still be a key behind-''
Clary had already reached behind a crooked board to her right. She held a small key in her fingers. ''I know.''
Jonathan blinked. ''How?''
Clary didn't answer, but put the key in the look. She was bitting her lip and her hand was trembling. She was scared. She didn't know how she knew either.
As he cast his gaze around, he saw beyond the fence an old lot. Really? ''How did you know?''
His voice sounded rough to his own ears. Clary took a moment before responding. ''Know what?''
Jonathan was confused by this. Twice now, Clary found things she shouldn't have known were there. The house, the key- three times if you counted how she knew he had been at Renewicks. He hadn't been there long, but still, how could she have known?
'You know I'm missing something. I need to know what it is.'
Jonathan didn't know what Clary was missing, but when she had said that he could feel fear rise up in him. He knew from experience there were somethings you didn't ask about, some secrets better left undiscovered. An image of Jocelyn's fearful face crossed his mind. How different could things have been if I didn't know what I was?
Jonathan shook his head. What did he care what Clary forgot? What was it to him if she remembered it?
Clary managed to get the key to go into the lock. She had to fiddle the rusted metal around before the lock finally gave way. Successful, she pushed open the door and they entered the cabin.
It was dark inside. The moonlight behind them shone a bit of light inside, illuminating the dust that hung over everything. The house was as Jonathan remembered. The staircase was ahead of them, parallel to the wall that separated the entryway they stood in from the living room to their right.
Clary walked further inside, her steps leaving footprints in the dust. She glanced around, seemingly taking it all in. ''This is where you lived?'' Jonathan shrugged in response. He eyed her carefully as she looked to the staircase. He was dreading her going up there, mostly because he didn't think he had the strength to do the stairs. Surprisingly though, Clary turned back to him without even setting foot on the first step. ''Is there a basement?''
Jonathan leaned against the doorframe. He shook his head. ''No.''
''You're sure?''
''Well, gee,'' he mused in annoyance. ''I lived here for over a decade. But I suppose I could be mistaken.''
Clary frowned at him. ''Don't talk to me that way.''
Stupid questions require stupid answers, Jonathan thought bitterly. But he held his tongue.
Clary turned away from him and walked past the staircase, trailing her hand along the banister. She stopped at the end of the hall where the staircase ended and jutted against the wall. She looked at the bottom of the staircase where a closet could have been if there staircase were hollow. Her fingers tapped the wood. ''I wonder…''
Clary looked at her palm that she had cut previously. It had stopped bleeding, but blood was still on it. Jonathan watched her take a shaky breath before she placed her hand on the wall. Before he could ask what she was doing, he heard her mutter something. He couldn't make it out, but he tensed at the sound of it. It sounded like a spell.
Clary jumped back in surprise as their came a clicking and whirring sound on the other side of the staircase. Jonathan watched in surprise as one of the wood panels swung open.
The room was silent as they both processed the sight. ''Well,'' Jonathan mused. ''I guess I could be mistaken.''
He came closer as Clary inched her way back toward the staircase. She used the tip of her finger to push the panel open wider. ''You didn't know this was here?''
''No,'' Jonathan said quickly. His mind was racing. He didn't know this was here. But he lived in this house for years, walked up and down those stairs everyday. Surely he must've heard the hollowness of the steps?
As Clary peered into the darkness, a picture crossed Jonathan's mind. A moment of recollection, a distant memory of a day long forgotten appeared in his head, but before he could make it out it vanished again. This startled him, mostly because as a former demon, his memory was excellent.
''Shall we?'' Clary asked, jolting Jonathan back to the present. He looked past Clary and saw a steep circular staircase descending down into darkness.
Great. Stairs.
Jonathan kept his concerns to himself. ''Ladies first.''
''What a gentleman,'' Clary grumbled irritably. Placing a hand on the wall to guide her, she began descending into the basement. Jonathan followed.
It got darker with each step down. ''When we reach the bottom, I'll draw a fire light,'' Clary said.
If we reach the bottom, Jonathan thought. He didn't like this at all. The darkness and the stillness reminded him all to much of his cave in Hell.
The sharp pain in his chest flared up again, making him follow Clary more slowly. He tried to distract himself from it by focusing on the cold stone his palm was rubbing against on the wall. He dragged the back of his ankle against the ledge every time he took a step to ensure he wouldn't miss one. His breathing was rapid, but whether is was from exhaustion or panic he wasn't sure.
Finally when he put his foot out to find the next step the ground was level. He walked forward and nearly crashed into Clary. ''Watch it. I'm tryin to draw a light…''
Soon a faint yellow glow illuminated their surroundings. They barely had time to be grateful for the light when they noticed the room and wished they hadn't lit it.
Paint on the walls. Red paint. Except somehow, Jonathan knew it wasn't paint.
Clary looked as though she had seen a ghost. She stepped away from the stair case to the middle of the room, spinning in a circle as she looked at all the pictures on the wall.
Jonathan stayed put, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He kept looking from Clary to the walls, trying to understand and make sense of the scene.
The pictures on the walls looked at first glance to be symbols. Just doodles of shapes and lines. But the way Clary was looking at them made it clear they were much more than than. Jonathan took a step into the room when one symbol in particular caught his eye. ''This is the one you drew before you left,'' he said in amazement. ''The one your boyfriend showed me after nearly killing me.'' He turned away from it back to Clary. ''The one you drew on your forearm.''
Clary wasn't looking at the walls anymore, but at him. Jonathan moved on to another symbol. ''This is a hidden rune,'' he said, noting the familiar X surrounded by dots. ''It's used to block tracking. But it's been changed…'' he rubbed his finger along the dashes that went thought the dots. ''I assume this is what is keeping you so well hidden from your family?''
Jonathan returned his gaze to Clary, but she was now staring transfixed at the floor. Jonathan walked over and squinted in the dim light to make out the shape.
Trapped. He was trapped. The lines around him were worse than chains, burning him and tightening even though there was no physical restraints. He wanted to rip them off but there was nothing there. Nothing to push or pull at.
Someone was laughing. Yellow curls and white eyes. He smiled widely at the scene. ''It was a nice sentiment,'' he said. ''But really, first thing you learn as a demon is to fear Devil Traps. I can't believe you were such a fool and made a symbol for yourselves!'' He looked to his right, where a girl stood terrified as she watched the scene play out in front of her. ''Like a said, a nice sentiment. But if you can summon your brother with a mark, then so can everyone else, little artist.''
The laughter rang in Jonathan's ears, making his head spin. He stumbled and grabbed the wall for support. ''What the hell was that?'' he asked.
Clary looked at him. Jonathan had spent years studying how people looked when they experienced emotions. The similarities always frustrated him. Narrow eyes could mean suspicion or confusion. Tears could be either happy or sad. But no one needed to guess at what Clary was feeling. Her eyes wide, her mouth set in a trembling line, she darted out of the room and back up the stairs.
Adrenaline carrying him through, Jonathan managed to run after her. Clary was out of the house and running into the woods before she paused for breath. ''Clarissa!''
Jonathan reached to grab her arm to keep her from running away again but she recoiled in terror. ''Don't you fucking touch me!''
Jonathan withdrew his arm as she slid to her knees on the forest floor. For a moment there was only the sound of them gasping for breath. ''What was that?'' Jonathan managed to ask again. His voice was hoarse and cracked.
Clary didn't answer at first. She put her face in her hands and Jonathan could hear her choking. When she finally looked up, her face was streamed with tears. ''I know now,'' she whispered. ''I know now why my rune didn't work at first. Why it's all coming back in pieces. I know how to remember.''
Jonathan stared at her. ''Okay. So what do we do?''
Clary looked up at him, looking as if she were struggling for words. ''It's you,'' she finally bit out. ''You're the last piece.''
The girl in the corner look at him and something inside him contracted. He would not let her be hurt.
''Last piece to what?''
''You know,'' Clary continued. ''You know too, that something is missing.''
''Why did I feel like I knew you when I met you?''
''Why were you so surprised that I was nothing like you?'
The staircase… that room…
''There are somethings, Jonathan,'' Valentine said without bothering to look at his son. ''There are somethings you are not to ask questions about.''
Jonathan felt his mouth go dry. ''Why?''
''Do you want them back?'' Clary asked in a whisper. She was staring at the ground. ''The memories? Do you want them back?''
A blurry image. Crying. Laughter. ''I knew I could have a family.''
''Can you do that?''
''I think so. But do you want to know?''
'…Please believe me when I say sometimes knowing is the worst thing in the world.'
Jonathan nodded once. ''Yes.''
Clary bit her lip and kept her gaze on the ground. She looked as if she were mounting her courage. Bracing herself, she took out her stele and held out her hand. ''Your arm.''
Jonathan knelt in front of her and pulled up his sleeve. She stared at the white skin and visibly veins, along with the numerous cuts and scratches from the Seelie Queen's treatments. She met his gaze, staring at his face as if searching for something. This is it, Jonathan thought hopelessly. She's going to kill me.
Clary plunged the stele into his arm and began to draw.
Each movement was like a nail being driven into his heart. If he could've caught his breath he would've screamed at her to stop. Blood was pooling on his arm but he couldn't see if for the visions flashing before his eyes. Memories.
The patterning was slow. Jonathan didn't know how much time had passed but he was certain this was wrong. Marks are not supposed to hurt like this. Black spots danced in his visions, obscuring the things he saw. A busy city street. A girl with red pigtails.
Finally Clary removed the stele. Jonathan grasped his arm and curled in on himself, trying to breath. The pain stopped, but it left behind a different feeling. A feeling of clarity, of understanding, as though he just woke up from a dream and was startled because he hadn't realized he'd been asleep. He looked at Clary, his heart heavy.
''I remember.''
