The sound in her ears was the sound of her heartbeat speeding up and catching pace with the chaos around her. Dru carefully controlled her breathing, exhaling with every swing of Phaesophoros. She felt her muscles release the tension and put every ounce of energy into every hit. The man she was fighting used a chain to wrap around her sword looking down at the star pattern of the blade in confusion. She twisted her blade in the chains and yanked it hard with the man still attached. Then she shoved the off balanced man's head in between the stair railings. He laid disoriented at the foot of the stairs.
She looked up from the fight, hoping to see anyone she knew but it was just a mass of mostly unfamiliar dark soldiers. The Rebels pushed forward when the attack began but the sight of some of their old loved ones and friends scattered them. Dru was pushed back into the Institute as the Cohort pressed through, losing track of everyone she had been standing shoulder to shoulder with.
A gunshot rang past her. She dodged behind a corner, sheathing her sword to pull out her gun. She held it steady as she aimed around the corner. The cold metal touching her skin sent goosebumps up her arm as she shot a gun out of someone's hand.
Her aim was good, she had been the one to partition for the Clave to learn how to use the firearms afterall, but that didn't mean that the gun didn't feel off in her hand. There was no weight, nothing that grounded her with her weapon to her enemies. There was something chilling about the way she could cut through her enemies without suffering the pain of fighting for the right to survive. But if they didn't learn to adapt then the Cohort would have slaughtered them.
More gunshots rang out, she could see the indentations in the walls as the bullets hit, the splintering of the picture frames smashed into pieces at the contact.
She felt a wave of rage go through her, this was her home they were invading. The place they had struggled so hard to protect, the home Julian sacrificed so much to give them, the place Livvy died to protect.
Her eyes closed tight as she remembered the conversation she had with her little brother before sending him away. Their words echoed over the shouting and struggle around her.
They were facing a portal that would take Tavvy to Raphel and Max. The swirling green of the portal matched Tavvy's eyes perfectly as he pleaded with her.
"I'm not a baby anymore Dru! I can fight!"
"I know, I know, but you're still only ten, that's too young to be on the battlefield."
"What about at the imperishable fields!" He argued, his bottom lip trembling from anger and fear. "You took me with you then and everyone didn't want us there because we were too young!"
Dru had to keep from wringing her hands. They were running out of time to get him to safety, an attack could happen at any minute now. "That was different, we weren't going there to fight, Emma and Julian needed us."
He shook his head violently, tears welled up in his eyes turning to the color of turquoise in the light of the portal. "But you didn't know that! What if they need us together this time? I could help! Please don't send me away!"
The sound of shattering behind them made them both jump. Dru grabbed her little brother's shoulder and shook him until he looked back up at her.
"Have you started training with a seraph blade?" She demanded.
"Not yet but Diana says-"
"Do you know how to use a gun? Can you hold it steady under the recoil? Can you reload it?"
"N-no but.."
"And you don't even have your first marks yet," she pointed out sternly.
He jerked his head angrily away from her, tears falling freely from his eyes.
"Then you cannot help, Octavian." She said it firmly, crushing his rebelling. She practically picked him up forcing him to face the portal. "Go to where it's safe for all of our sakes." she knew she sounded harsh, far harsher than she ever wanted to be. She knew exactly how he was feeling. Had it not been her once pleading with Julian to let her stay? But she didn't have time to make him understand, she would throw him in the portal herself if she had to.
He reached up to rub the tears from his eyes, she could see him do it from his reflection in the portal.
"I just don't...I don't want to be useless, I don't want anything to happen this time."
Her grip on him relaxed slightly. She didn't either, and even though Tavvy didn't remember when they lost their father to the attack on the institute or when Mark was spirited away to Faerie, but he did remember Livvy's funeral and was there every day waiting for Ty to come back home. All of those events, even the ones he couldn't remember had such a profound effect on him. She remembered the nightmares he used to wake up to every night, his cries waking up the whole Institute in a cold sweat.
"Nothing is going to happen this time, I promise," she said softly.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes were red from rubbing them. "That's a lie. Ty wouldn't tell me lies if he was here," he muttered angrily.
Dru felt her brother's name like a sharp kick. She believed in Kit, she couldn't tell them he was missing, not right now. All she could do was hope that the faith she had asked Livvy to put in Kit was enough. "Don't worry about Ty, he's doing his best in the way only he can, and Kit is there helping him."
Tavvy gave an angry sniff of his nose.
"I know you don't trust him, but I do. I really do, I know they can do this." She gave him a quick hug from behind before nudging him to the portal.
This time he didn't resist. He turned around as the portal collected around him, reaching out a hand towards Dru.
She held it at first, feeling tears in her own eyes before she finally let him go.
And as for the rest of her family, she had no idea where they were. Was Julian spilling blood in the kitchen their mother had modeled? The one he himself spent years scrubbing and cleaning. Is Emma in the training room using the tall banisters she had spent years perfecting her falls, breaking and bruising herself, to her advantage? Were Mark and Cristina cutting down the enemies from the bluff with the Downworlders they had won over? She hadn't even seen Helen since the battle began, was she looking for them, afraid of getting separated from her siblings now that she finally had them back?
An aggrieved scream tore from her throat as she bounded from the wall into the hallway and found herself standing in the center surrounded by guns pointing straight at her.
The comrades she was fighting with disappeared, save for a few bodies she tried not recognize at her feet. The Cohort stared her down with proud smiles, their eyes glinting maliciously, her fallen allies' eyes were turned away from her as she stood there.
She could hear the screams of battle from the foyer all around them, but for a heartbeat she was alone.
Her mind froze, all her thoughts and plans as what to do next left her as she faced the barrel of several guns.
Then she heard Jaime yell, "Now!" He charged out, his old warhammer in his hands as he used it to sling it around one of the Cohort's necks, sending the pale kid crashing into the line of comrades standing next to them.
Jaime was all energy and power as he swept through the room, his eyes lighting up in excitement. But Dru caught the corner of his mouth pulling downwards, his eyes twitching.
At the same time Jaime jumped in Mason dropped from the staircase, his wakizashi raised for an attack. He landed in a battle stance, the man with a chipped tooth tried to deflect Mason's sword but was caught instead by Mason's tanto he pulled out with his free hand to parry it, leaving his sword free to make a deep blow to the man's shoulder. The man took the hit, only letting himself wince as he threw away his gun to pull out a long sword. Mason fought with such grace you would think it was natural, but Dru knew otherwise, every brief movement every raise of his sword was practiced obsessively.
Mason with his close combat weapons had the advantage at first, but after several parrying blows he was pushed back.
That was when Mia dropped in, attacking on the man's right side to distract him. They pushed the boundary back in their favor when Mason backed off to recover so he could switch when Mia needed it.
Mia's face was set in determination as she fought. Her face was devoid of any fear or anger as she concentrated on the fight in front of him.
Dru watched as her friends moved in to fight fiercely for her. Without her knowing, without her calling out for them, they were here.
Something about it made her tremble.
Why had she spent so much time convincing herself she was alone? Why didn't she allow herself to accept all the things she already knew to be true? So what if she never had a parabatai of her own, her friends would still fight for her, so what if they stopped seeing each other or spent years apart on different paths? She would still love them, so why did she have to doubt that they wouldn't?
Her trembling stopped as she threw herself back into the chaos to fight alongside them, pulling Phaesporos back out, and felt Ash's presence and, in a small way, he was fighting alongside her too.
It didn't matter if she was alone sometimes, even if it was all the time, it didn't mean she was ever really alone. They would always be connected by what they shared together. After all she had to say about faith she somehow stopped trusting that her friends, her family would always be there.
She was done with that now.
A girl ran through the institute raising her gun to aim at Jaime when Dru charged sweeping up her sword in an arch that came crashing down on the girl's hand holding the gun, crushing the bone in her wrists.
She wouldn't let herself be afraid of where she was going, even if she had to go alone.
The sound of glass shattering pierced through the commotion. The battle halted around them as they listened to the sound echo in the open air.
The wards were down.
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Ty had made himself a makeshift hammock using vines and leaves, though the effort was mostly wasted as it was still too uncomfortable for him to get much sleep. He made his own campsite in shouting distance of Christopher's so he could be near without sharing the campsite, it was made abundantly clear that idea would not be welcome. Not that Ty minded either, he preferred to have some time to himself to think.
It was still strange finding himself completely alone, it had been easy not to notice back at the Institute with all the noise and commotion of so many people, but here he was just alone. Livvy had a body of her own now and couldn't follow him here. It should have been relieving but Ty had gotten used to her presence and was finding it another reason to be unnerved in this place.
He laid in his hammock, shifting uncomfortably watching the stars in the sky. The night sky here was bruised red, like a dark blood vessel that had begun to burst.
He thought about the sky in Thule he had seen by using the staff of Crann Bethadh. He had seen a vision of a wasteland made almost unrecognizable from the home he had grown up in. The sky there was not so different from this one.
"I hate you, you know that don't you?" Christopher's words kept ebbing back into his consciousness. He felt the words would always stay with him, it was too similar to all the fears he believed in for three years. But now he didn't have to imagine it, now he could see exactly what Kit would look like saying those words to him.
He knew Kit didn't feel that way, not yet, but what if they drifted apart because of this curse? What if he started to hate him?
And even if he didn't it brought Ty back to the focus of his misery. Livvy was alive, but what price would she have to pay for a body? He couldn't even begin to predict what would happen to her soul, or the soul of her double from Thule, if it was even still there. He hadn't been around to see the effects this was having on his sister, but he knew something was wrong when he left her.
She was keeping something from him… she had never done that before.
He didn't want her to suffer anymore for what he had done, but for the first time he couldn't remain optimistic that there was a solution he could find, especially if Thule Livvy still resided in her body. It was becoming too painfully apparent to ignore the fact that leaving his sister in her body would be nothing less than cruel. He had learned all too well these last few days about the stark differences in personality one person could have when compared to their Thule counterpart.
He got up, grabbing his staff, and sat at the small smoldering fire he had built. Ty pressed the staff deep into the Earth and concentrated on Livvy, willing it to allow him to communicate with her.
He opened his eyes to see an image forming in the dirt at his feet. He saw a brief flicker of his twin holding a gun in her hand before the connection snapped.
He sighed. So far he had yet to discover a way to use it to open communication. The staff pressed deeper into the dirt as his grip tightened in frustration.
A sudden soft glow of light caught Ty's eyes. A seal had appeared on the ground, the size of it flickered shrinking in size before growing to encompass the entire campsite.
He stood up, walking around the circle, and analyzing the markings. It was a circle, and inside it was an upside down triangle. Outside the triangle were three alchemical symbols on either side of it. In the inside of the triangle is what he thought resembled a dragon, two interlocking circles placed atop of the dragon.
He narrowed his focus on the alchemical symbols he recognized, mercury, salt, and sulfur. Ty had to become familiar and learn several demonic languages and ritualistic symbolism when he studied necromancy. So he was familiar with alchemy. He was positive that was their base use for those symbols, but he also knew that alchemy symbols usually held a double meaning to them, a material meaning and a spiritual meaning. From what he could remember, mercury also could stand for the spirit, salt represented the body, and sulfur, which could have several connotations, but he believed in this seal. It was meant to represent the soul.
He turned to the center to look at the lion. He knew it also had its own meaning as well but the answer wasn't coming to him, and then, with another flicker, the seal disappeared completely.
Casting a gaze around the area he found nothing strange. No outcome from the strange seal that had appeared. The only remnants left was the heat he felt from the staff he held.
"He's watching you, you know." A tiny voice spoke from behind him.
Ty spun around looking wildly for the voice when his eyes finally settled on a familiar looking squirrel.
It waved at him.
Ty blinked.
"It's rude to blink and pretend we are not in a discussion," the squirrel folded his little arms around its furry striped body.
"I'm sorry? I didn't know you could talk," Ty apologized. All his previous thoughts vanished as he watched the animal in fascination. He didn't know if this was a hallucination from the water or not, but he very much hoped it wasn't.
The Squirrel turned it's head away in disappointment. "Assuming I can't talk is also rude," He pointed out. "I suppose you haven't tried talking to anyone here yet."
"You mean all the animals can talk here? Is it because of the Fruit of Knowledge in the water?" He asked, becoming elated at the idea that he could talk to the animals here. His mood increased tenfold.
"Yes, it's made us smarter but it has also made many of us violent. I was told that our ancestors before us were peaceful, only fighting for food and occasionally territory, but when they partook in the fruit a higher knowledge was given to them that they did not have before, and now they fight on a whim to fulfill whatever passing desire they may have." He quirked his head to the side.
Ty wondered why the boar didn't speak to them or if it was just too angry.
"I came here to pay you back for the help. I have never seen a stranger to the Garden before but you should not have come here."
"It wasn't something we had a choice in. Do you know a way we can leave?" Ty knelt by the squirrel.
He brought his tiny claws up to scratch at his tiny scalp, shaking his head all the while. Ty couldn't look away from him, especially as his fur fluffed up making him look even more adorable.
"Hmmmm! The only way out is when the fog disappears from the sea, then you can travel throughout Faerie but that happens only every seven years. You missed it by just two."
Christopher's dangerous gamble was looking more likely to be the only viable option at this point.
"I understand," Ty sighed, before remembering the squirrel's reminders not to be rude. "What is your name?"
"Ratatoskr," he answered, twitching his tail. "He's watching you," he said again.
Ty looked over into the thick brush, large leaves, and bushes obscured most of his sight save for the campfire he could see still burning.
He turned back to Ratatoskr. "Christopher you mean."
He shook his little head, his antlers swaying with him. "I do not know. I do know he has been walking back and forth keeping his glances trained to you."
Ty thought about this. Was it possible he was waiting on an opportunity to kill him? It was completely plausible. He imagined he made it clear at this point that Christopher could not beat him in a fair fight, an attack while he slept was precisely the next logical step if Christopher wanted him dead.
"Thank you for the warning," Ty told him before walking over to one of the trees he tied his hammock to and began climbing.
Ratatoskr followed after him, running up the tree with ease. "You're good at this, for something as big and clawless as your species is. Is your plan to hide? I like that idea."
Ty smiled at attaining compliment from a squirrel. I want to catch him off guard if he comes looking for me. You're welcome to stay." He reached the branches and hoped over them landing in a crouch. In the light it wouldn't be hard to find him, the tree didn't have many branches or leaves to obscure him, but he hoped the darkness would suffice.
"Hmmmmm," Ratatoskr hummed to himself instead of answering, skittering further up the tree to where Ty couldn't see him.
He was disappointed he didn't stay, he would have loved to have befriended him. Ty hoped that maybe Ratatoskr liked him too at least. But right now Ty needed to focus on his ambush. He made himself comfortable while tucking his legs close to his body and waited counting off all the facts he knew about squirrels in the meantime.
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Christopher paced back to Ty's campsite, hiding behind a tree to peer in at activities. When he couldn't spot him, he glanced around before slowly creeping into the small clearing.
Ty watched him closely as Christopher stopped to kick at the dying fire. The fire hissed and sputtered as the fresh dirt suffocated the few embers left burning. Very slowly he walked over to the hammock where Ty had placed a few large fruit hidden under a blanket of leaves.
He stopped, looking at the outline under the leaves. Even with the campsite pitched into darkness and half obscured Ty could recognize him. He didn't think there was a version of Kit in any dimension he couldn't.
He remained paused there for so long Ty was beginning to wonder if he was having second thoughts when Christopher's hand finally reached out.
Ty leaped from the tree landing just behind him. Christopher didn't have time to turn around before Ty grabbed both of his wrists, he tried to push him off but with one shove Ty had him pushed against the tree facing him.
Christopher sucked in his breath and gritted his teeth.
Ty kept his knee in between his legs so he couldn't kick out and pressed his hands hard into the bark of the tree.
"You're not holding a weapon," Ty stated upon the realization that his hands were empty.
Christopher flexed his hands into a fist. "Figured that one out did you?"
The words were very similar to the first one's Kit had ever said to him and in a very similar position.
Ty immediately wanted to distance himself.
He let him go, hastily taking a few steps back, his gaze falling to the ground.
"What, no apology? What happened to your manners, Ty?"
Hearing him speak his name stuck out to him. It wasn't the first time Christopher had called him that, but Ty had come to expect a pattern from him. In that pattern when Christopher seemed particularly upset he substituted his name for his race. But this time he didn't. Suspiciously, Ty looked back up at him.
He was rubbing his wrists, the smile on his face disappeared as he looked down at his hands.
"I get it, you were thinking of him again," he said.
He seemed to put a heavy emphasis on 'him' in acknowledgment of his disdain for Kit.
"Why do you hate him so much?" Ty asked, " Is it because you're alone and he isn't?"
Christopher's eyes snapped up, Ty avoided it by shifting to look at his jaw.
"Is that what you think? I don't care about being alone, I care about falling for Shadowhunter lies! I care about giving up who I am for someone else's self righteous creed!"
Ty considered him. "But that doesn't make sense, Shadowhunters are different in this world, you can't pretend that's not true and Kit saw that too. The only reason to have a grudge against him is that Kit has what you want," he reasoned.
He threw his hands out and shouted, "Right there! Kit is my name! Stop calling me Christopher like you have the right to rename me!"
Ty backed away, hiding his face in shame. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?" Christopher demanded, taking a step closer. "I'll tell you the answer, because you're afraid you will start feeling for me what you do for him."
Ty vehemently shook his head. "That's not why! I just can't make the same mistake twice!" His breathing became sharper, images of Livvy and Kit invaded his mind clouding his thoughts, all the while Christopher stepped closer.
"And that is supposed to be fair to me how? You want me to trust you but you won't even call me by my name for your own selfish reasons. You're throwing away my will, my rights just because it's inconvenient to you!"
Ty took a step back tripping over himself. "That's not true, it's not."
"Then say my name!" He demanded, surprising Ty with how close he was.
He had to take a breath, he had to slow everything down. He could see Kit's face, sprayed with wind and sea salt as he looked over the ocean before facing Ty, the darkness of the ocean waters seemed to play across his face. But Ty didn't notice, he wasn't thinking anything besides feeling his heart calling out to Kit, begging to wrap his arms around him. And when he did Kit had accepted it, he pushed everything away to hold him there for Ty's sake.
How could he call this person by Kit's name?
Before it wouldn't have mattered to Ty, a name was just a name, it made no difference to who someone was by what you called them. But the more Christopher pushed the more it seemed that he wanted Ty to forget how different they were, but he had already left someone to pay for the consequence one already.
But that wasn't anyone's fault but Ty's.
The air stilled around him, the crackling of the fire finally ceased, and saw the shadows that moved across the ground disappear when he finally said, "Kit, your name is Kit."
Not even a breath answered him as he waited holding his.
Then a hand reached out to press his shoulder back, surprising Ty to find himself backed against a tree.
Christopher leaned closer, one hand beside his head pressed against the tree, his other hand still holding to his shoulder. "Now if you could just admit you're afraid of falling for me."
Ty looked at him in alarm. The small space they occupied together felt suddenly very intimate and uncomfortable.
"There is no confusion about how I feel," Ty said firmly. He meant what he said but there was no denying how he wished he didn't look so much alike Kit.
As Christopher leaned closer Ty's emotions were caught twisting around one another. It was not unlike his last few moments he was alone with Kit, but that couldn't happen again, not until Ty found aways to break the curse. Until then Kit refused to be with him like this, it could even last forever. That thought displaced his thoughts as he breathed in the scent that was entirely Kit's, and he knew he would taste like him, and he would feel like him.
But he wasn't him, and Ty didn't want a substitute.
"You're not the one I want."
Christopher jerked his head back. "Why not? I look like him, don't I? I sound like him, I was him! I'm everything he is, the only difference is I'm not hiding who I am!" His grip on Ty moved to his neck, pulling at the collar on his shirt, the other hand grabbed a fist full of the front of his shirt hard, a few buttons shaking loose. Ty's skin reacted like it was seared from the unwanted touch, every brush and every shake Ty felt deep in his nerves.
"You think whatever make-believe-hero he's playing to impress you is real? He's just doing exactly what he was always taught to do, pretend to give you what you want so he can take what he wants! He doesn't care about you, he doesn't even care about himself!"
Ty placed a hand on Christopher's wrists with a firm grip in warning. "I know who he is and it's not you."
Christopher's grip slackened, but his voice still shook. "Yeah? And if you never see him again and we're stuck here then all you will have is me."
Ty removed his hand from his shirt and spoke as clearly as he could. "Even then I still wouldn't want you."
He yanked himself away from Ty turning away completely. "Of course you would think I'm not good enough." Just before walking away into the darkness of the forest, he added. "I wonder how many times you made him think the same thing."
Ty winced, letting his back hit the tree again and this time he let himself sink to the ground.
Watching Christopher retreating back Ty could once again see Kit standing alone facing the ocean as the tide pulled him so far away from Ty. He had thought he had crossed the distance to him and pulled him back, but Kit was already gone. Because Ty had trampled him in his inability to see past what he had wanted.
Through the little light that was left of the dying embers, a glint of metal caught his attention. Grateful for the distraction he threw himself into his curiosity. He pulled himself up and walked over to his hammock where a silver chain was half visible under the leaves. Completely amazed he freed it, watching the locket engraved with thorns and a crest of sabers spun gently in the air.
Ty was left in puzzlement that Christopher had never discarded it, in fact, he came here to give it back.
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Livvy raced through the corridor. She was close to losing him as he darted out of sight, but Livvy knew the Institute and she knew what rooms were locked and which ones were still open.
She heard the sound of the door snapping shut and turned sharply down the corner after the sound.
She found herself in one of the guest wings, a few of the rooms had been taken up by the influx of Shadowhunters but her eyes automatically locked on one door in particular.
She stopped just four doors down the hallway. Just standing in front of the now locked room she could hear the frantic movement inside Kit's old room. Livvy had no doubt Kit wouldn't have left anything of value and wouldn't bother locking the door before he left.
She threw herself against the door. The hardwood resisted her, standing staunchly where it was without so much as a budge.
"Braylon! Come out I'm giving you one chance!" She waited for approximately two seconds before they ran out of time.
Familiar shouts echoed from the stairs after her. Turning her head she thought she could see the shadows of movement against the walls.
She didn't waste another second. Hoisting the shotgun to her chest and with a swear muttered under her breath she aimed at the doorknob and shot it out. The metal and wood exploded, leaving the doorknob hanging upside down by its hinges, exposing a hole where it once was.
She ignored the shouting on the other side and kicked at the door furiously. This time it gave in easily, slamming into the opposite wall with force.
Braylon Mayhew was wincing and half crouched behind a stack of old storage boxes when she bounded in.
Immediately, he broke down. "I can't do it Livvy, I can't. Carter is here I can't fight my parabatai," he sobbed, clutching the arm that once bore his parabatai mark.
Braylon broke ranks almost immediately when the fighting started running back into the Institute. She tried to catch him quickly before either of them were missed, but by the sounds of gunshots and the clattering of metal told her she was too late.
"If you don't people will die," she pressured him. "You can't make the same mistake that we did in the Dark War. If we do, then this world's already gone."
He shook his head, his hands pulling his hair. "But It's not the Dark War! He's not dead, he's not a monster, he's alive and he's right there!" His face was drenched in misery, she knew he was thinking the same thing as her.
How did this happen? Where did we go so wrong it turned out like this?
Livvy wasn't the person he thought she was. She had never lived in Thule and experienced that Hell first hand, but she did have memories of that world. The unfairness of it all, that the world they came to for refuge taunted them with everything they had thought they lost only to steal it away in another trial of misery. She hated it for them all. She hated that the other Livvy's life was cut short because of her. And she knew she wasn't the person that should be talking to him now.
"I know, but what he is standing for is wrong. You can choose only one side and whoever wins their ideology and policies will be the one we will have to live and die by. Could you live with yourself if you fought for a side you knew was wrong? Or would you rather be a bystander in this world you came to fight for and be just as powerless like we were in Thule?"
He looked up at her with eyes rimmed almost as red as blood. "How can you say that? What if this was your twin out there? We have all seen the mourning rune on your back! Are you really telling me you could let him die if you were me?" It sounded like a plea begging for her to tell him he was mistaken, that she couldn't do it either.
And he was right.
Maybe the Livvy from Thule could, maybe she really did learn to bury all her personal feelings away, but she couldn't. And if it was Ty holding a knife on the other side of a battlefield she knew that the only thing she could do would be to reach out a hand to call him back.
She took a deep breath and listened to the chaos and screams around them."Then let's bring him back to our side," she said. "In any way we can."
He stared wide eyed before standing up from the boxes, his red hair sliding against the wall could have looked like a bloodstain. Cautiously he asked, "You would let me do that?"
Livvy nodded. "I'll cover you." She hoped this was the right thing to do, she knew Diana expected her to be out there leading the charge. But the only task she felt capable of was to be there when someone asked for her help.
That was the only thing Livia Blackthorn of this world could do.
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The doors burst open, pouring moonlight and cool night air onto their skin as they raced through into a scene of gunpowder and bloody sand. It didn't take long until a Faerie braided white hair tried to cut her off from Braylon.
She raised her gun hastily, missing her shot and her footing from the recoil. The Faerie jumped the distance in between them, her long daggers already in motion to cut open Livvy's stomach.
Instead of raising her gun a second time she brought it up to defend herself. Metal and metal clanged against each other. Livvy tried to hold fast, turning the gun around as they stood still locked against one another. Her heart was beating fast, she couldn't win with a gun she barely knew how to use.
The Faerie's dagger slid across the metal, deflecting it with her other dagger.
Inside her mind, Livvy begged her body's original soul for help. She needed the other Livvy now more than ever. She was the one who could fight with firearms, not her.
Her muscles screamed out asking why she was trying to masquerade as someone else when everything was on the line.
The gun she held to defend herself was knocked away from her chest, the knife plunged forward. Pain and shock stole her breath away when her reflexes failed to save her from the dagger embedding itself just below her collarbone. It seared through her gear with ease with its serrated edges tearing deep in her body.
She let out a gasp of pain, then her body took over. Before the second blow could come she solved the barrel into the woman's stomach, knocking the breath from her. She choked and almost fell to her knees, which is when Livvy shifted her grasp on her weapon and swung it into her head.
She heard Braylon shouting for something as her world felt suddenly indistinct and unreal, her breath, shallow and gasping. Absently, she remembered to reload the gun before her knees hit the ground.
"Your- your shoulder!" Braylon cried.
Livvy very distantly regarded the blade handle still sticking out from her chest.
Raising a hand to pull out the blade she could feel the pain ebbing from the wound, growing more pronounced with the more focus she put on it. Her lungs tried to fill to capacity but the pain wouldn't let it. Somewhere in the back of her head she knew her body was in shock, locking away the pain.
When her fingertips touched the handle her heart suddenly gave out. Her body was thrown off as her heart stopped beating, and the ground rose to meet her. She couldn't feel the dirt on her face or the ground she laid on, she just felt cold.
This was familiar, this was death.
The pain shifted from her chest to her heart and felt the outpouring of blood. She could almost feel the Mortal Sword sticking out from her body as her life drained away into the dirt.
"Don't die! I'm going to pull it out and give you an irate!" Braylon's hand clasped her shoulder, and her trance was suddenly broken. The noise of battle flooded back trampling her senses, a deep breath filled her lungs. Her pain snapped back to the new wound on her chest, and the feeling of death faded away.
With great effort, she pulled herself back to her knees
They were in danger sitting here.
Shakily and clumsily, she leaned herself against Braylon until she could force herself to stand up. "Leave it." She huffed out. "There's no time right now I have to go back to the Institute."
Braylon looked up at her with a painfully confused expression. "Why? If you're not going to get treated then why go back? I thought we were going after Carter together?" His voice was a mix of a plea and concern as he spoke. He didn't want to push her but his desperation to get to his parabatai before someone else did was obvious.
"Go without me and I'll find you. It won't take long." Without waiting for another word or another blow from the enemies around them, she took off back to the steps of the Institute.
The left side of her chest where the dagger still pierced her slowed her down, her body losing more and more mobility as it succumbed to the pain. At this point, she couldn't so much as lift the shotgun nevermind shoot with it. Her arm was going numb and she could feel her gear dampening from the blood dripping down her front. Still, she wouldn't risk pulling out the blade again, not now. Determinedly she forced herself to move as fast as she could, the right side of her body hauling the other half up the steps.
Passing through the doors she tried to sneak past the foyer into the weapons room when someone came charging for her. A man in Shadowhunter gear sprinted for her, a sword held over his head and a smile on his face at his good luck.
Livvy did the only thing she was capable of, slinging her gun by the strap letting it hang at her waist, and when he came close enough she fired.
The sound of the gun firing was deafening, the shower of blood that came after it hit its mark was horrifying.
She made herself look away telling herself not to think about it, begging her feet to carry her further.
When she finally made it into the dark hall the witchlights that powered the Institute had been shot out. The place was ransacked earlier judging by the missing weapons and blood smearing the floor. She didn't look, instead kept her eyes trained on what she had come here for.
As quickly as she could she crossed the room, careful not to step or trip on any loose weaponry.
Her eyes quickly found it. Her saber! Beautifully mounted on the wall like it had been waiting all the years just for her to return to it. There wasn't a scrape on it that she didn't recognize, the last time had been used was before she died. As she stepped closer she could almost feel it yearning for her as she did to hold it in her hands again.
She reached out, feeling her opposite shoulder protest at the strain, the knife cutting more muscle when she ignored it. Just trying to pick up the saber left her breathless and dizzy, but it was worth it to feel it in her hands, a surge of confidence coursed through her with her saber finally returned to her.
This was how she fought.
She turned around to face the empty room, the remnants of what happened laid plainly for everyone to see, the sound of chaos in the distance rang out in a stark reminder to her.
At this point, she couldn't look at this place as anything other than what it had become, the room that held blades unstained with blood they had admired as tools were gone. It was just a battleground now.
She gripped her saber as tightly as she could in her hand. Even half beaten as she was, she knew she was ten times the warrior with her chosen weapon than with a gun she couldn't use.
Closing her eyes she could see her family's faces, and the people counting on her, Diana, Braylon, and even Cameron's.
She was coming.
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There was a loud ringing in Kit's ears, the feeling of his body was soft and numb but everything else around him was white. The piercing sound and loss of his senses made his stomach churn. It twisted and heaved until his body responded by rolling over. The feeling of limbs and skin and muscle returned to him as he felt the grass against his face.
He could hear someone calling his name, quieting the siren going off in his heads. He struggled to blink away the bright light but when he did everything was pitched into darkness save for the orange lights dancing around him.
A rancid smell like that of flesh burning hit him. That was all his stomach could take, and his body raised itself up of its own accord onto his elbows as he vomited onto the ground.
"Kit! Are you alright? Are you hurt?" The frantic voice was much closer than he thought.
He felt his consciousness return to his body as he suddenly became aware of his limbs. He was shaking to hold himself up and his skin was searing hot. His mouth was so dry he felt it crack when he tried to open his mouth again.
Next, his vision came into focus when he noticed a body lying next to him completely blackened into charcoal as flames danced around his blurry vision.
The crackling of a fire was heavy in his ears as he slowly put the events back into order. When he realized the body was the same person he had tackled into the boundary of the wards, everything sharpened into focus.
Hands wrapping around his chest kept him steady, pulling him upright so he wouldn't collapse in his own vomit. Very Shakily, Kit patted down his skin to make sure he wasn't just a pile of black ash. His breathing rapidly picked up in a panic until he was hyperventilating before he could finally see that his skin was only burned a little bit with only a few welts.
"Kit, Kit, you're fine now," the reassuring voice spoke.
It was Jem, Jem was here, he thought as he laid back into the other man.
He took a few deep gulps of the air trying to take in as much oxygen and as little smoke as possible before rolling up the sleeves of his gear to see the fireproof rune was fading into his skin as he looked at it. Kit could hardly believe his luck and Clary's sudden fanaticism of trying to keep him alive. Had she wrote the whole damn Gray Book on his arm?"
"I can't believe it," he wondered out loud, Jem's hand still steadying him.
He looked over Kit's arm and tightly hugged him with his own free arm. "Neither can I, but I am eternally grateful." He sighed in relief. "You need to be more careful, Kit, please."
Kit ignored that and his guilt as he asked, "But why did the ward react like that? I mean, we were both Shadowhunters and I'm pretty sure it usually doesn't fry people."
"Look there," Jem pointed at the bloodstain on what would typically be an invisible force field if it wasn't for the blood and Kit's ability to see things others typically couldn't. "That's Greater Demon blood they had on them."
Kit's eyes moved past the blood spatter to the top of the barrier where an orange fringe formed encircled the top melting the barrier.
"The wards are coming down," he whispered.
After a moment Jem said, "can you stand?"
Kit nodded, getting to his feet.
"The fight is just beginning," Jem told him, "I wish I could tell you to tend to your injuries but if you can fight you must or the Institute will fall."
Kit nodded and tried to avoid the grave look he was giving him.
His plan didn't involve quitting, no matter what happened to him. "Meet you at the finish line then?" Kit started to take off before Jem called out to him again.
He stopped and reluctantly turned back around.
"And Kit? If you can't be careful for yourself right now, do it for me and for Tessa."Jem looked back at him with somberness and regret for what Kit might put him through next.
He couldn't even nod, just turned his head away in shame. He hated how selfish he was, he was always doing things like this, pretending he had no one to hurt by hurting himself, but right now danger felt like a faraway concept spirited away with Ty to some unknown place than any physical pain he could endure here. Just thinking of Ty's face was enough to push himself over the edge, to take out that fear and hatred on something else until he got what he deserved. And he deserved whatever happened to him, everything that ever went wrong in Tiberius Blackthorn's life was his fault. And did he ever learn? No, he just kept crawling back ignoring every warning sign posted along the way.
It wasn't enough, nothing would ever be enough.
Kit took off as fast as he could, trying to leave everything behind, hoping to find anything to stop him thinking. And it wasn't long until a demon sniffing his way past the wards came his way to do just that. It was a hellhound, it's large face stuffed in the dirt. With its large snout and shark-like maw and it's poisonous spiketail, it would make for one hell of a distraction.
Its head snapped up at Kit's approach. Drool pooled in its mouth and foamed around its teeth, it's spiked tail twitched in anticipation.
Kit dug his feet in the ground, and then the demon charged. Its large paws pounded the dirt as it ran, kicking up dirt as it went closing the distance in seconds.
Kit kept his ground as it bounded for him, all the while Kit reminded the twitching muscles in his legs to wait. Just when its jaws opened up to snap at him, Kit sprung to the side of the building, kicking his feet out against the mortar and stone of the Institute. He ran along the wall for a brief second before pushing himself off to fly over the demon. Caliburn was in his hands as he twisted his body to get a good swing at the demon's neck cutting deep under its fur. He landed to the side in a defensive stance, recovering quickly as the hellhound screamed in rage. But the chaos around them almost drowned it almost entirely.
The demon lifted it's spiked tail and struck out at the side of Kit's face. He ducked, barely feeling the wind rustle his hair as it flew past him. Still crouching, he retaliated as the demon tried to pull its tail back when he whipped Caliburn around and severed it.
Long jagged teeth snapped in his face as he dove to its backside to roll away, grabbing the severed tail as he went.
He rolled back onto his feet just as the hound turned itself around to leap at him.
Kit got his revenge for almost losing his head by swinging out the spiked tail, striking it in the face. Then he swung Caliburn at the bloody mass on its neck to finish the job.
It went down in a heap, it's severed head remained close to its body before dissolving in ichor.
Kit stood breathing hard but he didn't have time to catch his breath, however, as three more hellhounds came stalking around the corner. All of them had their noses to the ground picking up a scent they must have been ordered to track when they saw him.
It wasn't ever a good thing to find out you were popular in the demon circles, but the fact that he had three hellhounds usually used to track down prey for more intelligent entities giving him all their attention wasn't what he would consider a compliment either.
Kit's grip on his sword tightened as the demons lurched afterward. He charged at them as they stampeded across the ground to him. Just before they reached each other he rolled underneath the middle one, slashing out at Caliburn to sever its tail. He pivoted his leg to turn himself swiftly back around as the two hounds flanking the middle one began bearing down on him.
Swiftly, he shoved his sword through the bottom of the hound's head, shoving it through until it pierced the roof of its mouth.
The hound reared its ugly head, not from pain, but to prepare for another attack. Kit forced himself to his feet, hilt still gripped tightly in his hand with the blade piercing the beast's maw. He pushed himself against the protesting beast, mustering his strength to push up on the blade like a lever forcing the demon's neck back. Urgently, he spun around it to dodge the other demon charging him. The pouncing hound couldn't stop in time and slid into Kit's hound, catching its head in its massive jaws in an attempt to snap at Kit.
When his hound wrenched it's head around to push the other demon back, he lost grip of Caliburn. It was still stuck in the demon's mouth, flinging Kit on the ground hard.
A new shadow reared over him followed by a deep growling. The other hound had finally made its way back in the fray and loomed over him, drool dripping onto his gear. Kit looked into its red eyes and thought he could see the barren wastelands of hell. It snapped it's jaw as it lowered itself closer.
Then there was a crack of a whip and the demon hovering over him yowled in anger, turning itself away from Kit completely.
Kit didn't need another chance, he raised his hand and in his mind shouted for Caliburn to return to him.
In a second his fingers close again around the grip of his sword. He didn't miss the opportunity to get himself away from the worst case of sulfur breath he had ever had the misfortune of having drooled on him. He slashed its hind legs with his sword, quickly rolling out of the way before it collapsed on top of him.
When he sprang up he could see the glint of a silver whip strike out in the dark, severing the tails of the two remaining hounds at once.
Isabelle stood haughtily to one side looking just as fearless as she did glamourous. Somehow her hair was even still tied up.
"Not bad, but I think you could use a little help," she flashed him a cocky smile.
Kit rolled his shoulders, "I hate to tell you you missed the main attraction, but I don't mind if you do the cleanup," he called back to her before the hounds realized there were two Shadowhunters now. Kit dove his sword straight through the neck of the demon at his feet.
Isabelle's whip lashed out wrapping around one of the hound's neck, pulling it to the ground.
As it hit the dirt face first, Kit dove past it, grabbing ahold of the stub of the other demon's tail to get its attention. It swiveled its head to glower back at him with it's red eyes, it's jaws snapping in anticipation. Kit let the stubbed tail go and jammed its sword right through its eye.
It melted into ichor with Caliburn still plunged in its head.
They were finally dead, and for a moment there were no other demons charging in after them. Kit took a deep breath in relief, grateful for the chance to breathe. But when he saw Isabelle walking towards him he knew it had to be a short reprieve.
"There's probably more of those out there looking for Clary," he told her.
She stopped. "And how do you know this? And if they're looking for Clary why were they wasting time on you?" It was more of a demand than a question. Her dark eyes were as hard as obsidian as she regarded him.
Kit stiffened, he just blurted that out without any way to explain himself. "You're just going to have to trust me, we need to find Clary and Jace."
Isabelle placed her hands on her hips and glowered at him. "Well, I don't trust you! But I am going to make sure nothing happens to my brother or Clary so you better not be wrong about this," she said in a way that made it very clear that she hoped he took it as a threat if he was wrong.
It was obvious to him that he was right, but personally he thought it would take nothing short of a miracle for him to be wrong now.
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Ty woke up with a strange pressure weighing on his head. It wasn't a headache exactly, just the overwhelming pressure of everything pushing down on him. Everything felt heavy, the fate of his sister, the safety of his family, and the fact that the petals of the wreath were beginning to wither. Futility fell over him, and for the first time, Ty was starting to think it was time to give up. Kit had expressed he wouldn't help him, and Ty couldn't do this on his own if he was trapped in Faerie. A dark part of him thought that maybe Kit wasn't even looking for him. It might have even been his plan to keep away until the wreath died and he had no choice but to give up.
Everything felt hollow, how could he fight when there was nothing to achieve? He had always hated fighting anyways.
He walked through the forest, barely registering the strange howls and growls of hidden predators. Everything he had ever wanted was now out of reach. His family was struggling in a war he would never hear the outcome of, the Scholomance would never accept his application even if he were to leave this place after how badly he had failed the missing mundanes, Livvy now had her own body and because of that he finally lost her, and Kit had made it clear he didn't want the complications that came with him. These thoughts bogged him down until he felt too heavy to move.
He made it to the small alcove Christopher was using as his campsite before Ty felt he couldn't take another step. It didn't even register to him as he stood there that Christopher wasn't even there until he heard the vines rustling behind him.
"What are you doing just standing there?" He heard Christopher demand.
Ty only had the energy to rake in another breath. Kit wasn't coming for him, most likely it would be Ragnor that would finally come, and when he returned Kit would be gone and would never see him again.
Distractedly, Ty wondered if he would at least leave him a letter, or if Kit would begrudge him if he tried to write to him. But the first time Kit left he left him with nothing.
"Ty?"
The sound of Kit's saying his name made him move.
Christopher moved to his side, waving a hand over his face.
It stung his eyes to look at Christopher. He tried to look away from him when Christopher shot out to grab his face.
Ty jumped, reaching his hand up to remove Christopher's hand, but Christopher effortlessly knocked him away.
There was no smile on Christopher's face as he forced himself far too close to Ty then he could be comfortable. "I knew you wouldn't like that." He said.
Ty tried to struggle out of his grasp but Christopher's grip remained firm and Ty just didn't have the energy to fight him.
"No, look at me. What's with you?"
Ty's eyes darted away from him, feeling the hand on his chin too keenly for comfort especially after how close they were last night. He hated the abruptness and disregard Christopher started invading him but all he could do right now was say, "I'm too tired."
Christopher dropped his grip finally to Ty's relief, but his eyes still drifted over him. "Let me guess, you're thinking about how no one will notice that you're gone and it doesn't matter if you die here."
Ty just grimaced, pulling his arms to wrap around himself. But Christopher's next question baffled him.
"When was the last time you ate?"
"The other night with you, why?"
Christopher sighed, walking over to a stash of fruit he collected and tossed what looked like an apple to him.
With his sluggish reflexes, he barely caught it. "Are you sure it's safe?" Ty scrutinized the apple.
Christopher sat down on a log and shrugged. "I know if you don't eat it you'll end up walking into the forest hoping something will put you out of your misery."
Ty examined the apple, taking a knife to cut into it. Juice poured out from the fresh cut revealing the white flesh underneath the red skin. It appeared to be nothing more than an apple. "This must be an effect of the river and the fruit of knowledge."
"Something like that. Personally I felt it before even risking a drink. But if you eat the fruit, assuming it's not poisonous, it will alleviate whatever is in the sky that makes you want to write bad poetry and welcome the sweet embrace of flesh eating flowers."
Ty looked up at him curiously thinking about how very strangely specific his example was. Christopher wasn't looking at him, instead, he was staring at the dirt wall around him. Ty didn't know if he was lying to him but when he assumed Christopher had come to kill him last night he had really only meant to return his locket. He had the bad habit of assuming too much, perhaps his judgment of him was at least fractionally misguided.
Ty took a bite out of the apple, there was nothing strange in how it tasted. As soon as the juice hit his tongue did the pressure begin to alleviate from his head and the hollowness began to fill in his chest.
He relished in the feeling, feeling himself come back to life. His feet swayed as the drastic change in his mental state flooded him.
"Sit down at least! Don't just stand there and swoon," Christopher snapped at him.
Ty obliged, sitting down to devour the rest of the apple. It felt like a vacuum had opened up to drain him of all his pressing thoughts and feelings. With his head cleared up, he turned his focus onto the problem in front of him. He was having a hard time figuring out Christopher and gauging his mood was even worse than the typical challenge strangers could present to him. He was by far the hardest person to predict and kept Ty on edge never knowing what to expect next from him. Last night he had been yelling and angered that Ty refused to see him the same way he saw Kit despite how often he made it painstakingly clear how he hated Ty. But now he was quiet, helpful, but Ty couldn't call him kind with his typical abrasive behavior and very real memories of the recent incidents he tried to kill him. It was easy to anger him and it always took Ty aback, bewildered at how he offended him. But Ty wanted to hope that he was starting to reveal more of himself, something underneath all the hostility he had cultivated.
They sat in silence until Ty was done eating. "Thank you," he said gratefully.
Christopher picked at a hole in his jeans. "Yeah well, it's like I said before my best chance of getting out of here is keeping you around."
"I was talking about my locket," Ty pointed out.
Christopher's finger playing with the loose fabric twitched. "Don't mention it, I mean it."
So, Ty didn't and they sat there in silence as Christopher passed him another apple.
After a few minutes of silence, Christopher finally said, "You were holding onto that when I came back."
Ty looked down at the locket he returned to wearing around his neck and couldn't help taking a hold of it again. He hadn't even noticed he was holding it earlier.
"You don't have to tell me why, I was just curious," Christopher said when he didn't answer.
He flipped the locket in his hand to see the inscription of Livvy's saber. "It was my twin sisters before she died."
"Well I know that." he lounged on the log. "But that happened years ago…" he trailed off. Ty wished he could decipher the look on his face.
"I've made mistakes," he tried to explain, " and now everyone is suffering for it." Ty's grip on the locket strengthened.
Christopher picked himself off the log and leaned forward. "Did you kill her?" He asked suddenly.
Ty's head shot up in alarm. "No of course not."
Christopher's poster didn't change, nor did his tone of voice. "But you did something because of her death that you regret?"
Ty didn't answer, sure that he was giving up far too much then he meant to, reminding him badly Kit's strengths outclassed him in this area. Talking to him was just as dangerous as a fight with any demon.
"One last question, you're pretty smart aren't you?"
"Yes.." Ty answered questionly, which strangely made Christopher smile and almost even laugh.
"That's what I thought you would say. I'm starting to think I had you all wrong."
Ty had a sinking feeling he had figured out what Ty had tried not to say.
Christopher stood up and turned to face the light peering through the vines that hid them away. "Anyway, we're going to need you to be smart if we want to have a chance in hell for this plan to work."
"You mean the plan where I steal a fruit from the Tree of Life to get one of the cherub's attention to cast us out of the garden," Ty stated, his eyes narrowing.
Christopher gave a thumbs up, his eyes still casted out into the distance. "You said they might kill us on sight if we just approach them so I think the best bet is to lure them with a bait and something to trade them with."
"Just because I won't eat the fruit doesn't mean there won't be a curse, besides," he argued, "there's something wrong with them. I don't think we can rely on them to act as we expect them to."
"That's why we need to be able to think quickly." Christopher waved away his doubts.
Ty frowned. "That's what you're good at. I'm good at planning."
The paleness of Christopher's face turned a slight pink. "I'll take care of that. What are you suggesting?"
Ty drummed his fingers against his arm as he concentrated. "I want to do some reconesense to learn everything we can about what happened here so we know what to expect."
"Great, and any idea how to do that since we can't get close to angels crying a lake of fire and killer vegetables everywhere?"
A flicker of movement caught Ty's attention. Something small fleeted out of view past the vines and into the alcove. It didn't take long for Ty to find what had entered the campsite.
Ratatoskr raced behind him and skittered up his arm until he was sitting on his shoulder.
Christopher's eyes widened and immediately picked up a fruit to throw at it before Ty stopped him.
"He's a friend!" Ty threw his hands up and shouted.
Ratatoskr positioned himself on two legs and ran his little paws over his fur to smooth it out. "Hmmm, I would like to be the one to declare what our relationship may be."
Christopher's overarm froze before reluctantly putting the fruit down. "Everything has been trying to kill us and you think that just because this thing is furry and cute that it's not dangerous? Ever heard of rabies?"
Ty was pleased he also thought it was cute and beamed. "This is Ratatoskr, I met him at the river yesterday."
Ratatoskr nodded his head, humming to himself again."Acquaintances or not, I admit I have taken a liking to your awkwardly large race."
He felt abashed that he assumed they were friends but tried to move past how disheartened he felt.
Christopher raised his fistful of fruit again at the comment. "I'm not sure I like being called awkward with a squirrel that God confused for a jackalope."
Ratatoskr peered over at Ty. He noticed that there seemed to be passing shadows in his eyes that he didn't see before.
"You have made friends with the peeper?" He said regarding Christopher.
Christopher finally chucked the fruit which splattered against the wall next to Ty, his face blazing red. "Watch it! I'm not a peeper!"
"Don't throw things at him!" Ty snapped back.
Christopher faltered and Ratatoskr knelt on all fours raising his bushy tail up in the air.
"Peepers peep and you were peeping at him!" Ratatoskr protested stubbornly, his hum turning angry.
Christopher started taking steps forward, his eyes narrowed in on Ratatoskr.
Ty offered his hand to the squirrel and placed him in the safety of his lap. "It's all sorted out right now, and we're working together," Ty announced, hoping to diffuse the tension.
Christopher and Ratatoskr stared at each other but no more fruit was further thrown.
"Why is it even here?" Christopher demanded, pointing at Ratatoskr. His temper flaring again for no real foreseeable reason that Ty could fathom when a talking squirrel was involved.
Ratatoskr folded his fluffy arms around his chest. He looked to Ty as he said, "I need your help."
Christopher cut in before Ty could reply. "Not a chance we don't have time to help you find nuts for the winter we need to get out of here. No wasting time-"
"Of course," Ty answered, amused at how Ratatoskr's tail stood straight up in surprise.
Christopher turned on him next. "Why would you agree to help a squirrel when we're in a literal life and death scenario? We don't have time to get bonus points with the locals even if they are cute animals!"
Ty stood up. "Then you can wait here until I get back. This is also a good opportunity to learn about this place."
Christopher shook his head. "Every time I think I have you figured out you do something like this..." he muttered.
Ty tilted his head and looked at him. He looked so much like Kit but knew just how different they were. Still, he thought he could see parts of him there when he softened. "I feel the same about you."
Christopher looked away, shoving his hands in his pocket, and sighed. "This better be quick or I'm warning you now I'm going to kill the squirrel."
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Swinging his hammer felt familiar, it cracked open it's foes on impact, and the weight was easy enough to balance, the reach was there so he could leap into battle without getting too close.
It was adequate.
It was nothing like fighting with Durendal where each slice of his sword was like cutting his way to his own ambitions. His hammer was blunt and forceful, it had none of the feelings of reaching to something higher, the feeling Jaime got when he held Durendal that he was more.
They had spilled out into the yard and both him and Mason and Mia were staying close with Dru. Jaime swung his hammer to the left and took out a Faerie leaping for him when he saw a Shadowhunter with a fresh scar lining his face take the opportunity to raise his gun. Jaime saw this and planted his warhammer in the ground, flipped the revolver from his belt and shot him twice in the kneecaps.
To his right, he saw Mia switch mid attack with Mason to deliver the final blow. Dru was scanning the perimeter and taking down anyone trying to approach them.
They were making progress pushing forward but the problem was that they were hindered by hesitation. Shadowhunters and the Cohort were indistinguishable from one another as they fought and danced around each other. Jaime saw several people fall from holding their shots until the enemy was already on top of them.
He picked up his hammer and gripped it tightly. He wasn't going down like that, he would plow through everyone inflicting debilitating blows on anything in his path until they were the last ones standing.
He could feel the night air brush against his face, but even still it was getting unbearably hot. Jaime couldn't help looking at a loose part of the bandaging he had wrapped his body down with. He could feel the stickiness underneath them as he tried to sweat to modulate his body temperature, but he didn't leave enough room for that.
The world spun as he lifted his weapon again, turning his vision upside down. His swing went wild and he couldn't even tell what direction it was when he heard a shot go off next to his ear. Losing balance he almost fell to the ground, another shot flying just over his head.
He saw a flash of red as a small girl struck out, the jade and gold curved hilt of the bhuji caught his eye.
The girl turned around, her skin and hair were shimmering every shade of red. It wasn't a little girl at all, she was the Peri he met at the Shadow Market.
Her eyes were fixated on him. "Get up Shadowhunter, unless you want to stay in my debt forever it's your job to end this war."
Jaime straightened up and cracked half a smile. "You certainly are pricey putting all the responsibility on me."
She stuck her nose up as she scanned the fighting around them. "Magic is never cheap, surely a Rosales would know better."
He hadn't told her his name but he didn't have time to waste asking her if that was why she agreed to help him. "Well, I wouldn't be a friend to faeries if I broke my promises now would I?" Then muttered to himself. "The last thing I would want is to give the Rosales a bad name."
She heard him anyway. "Then be the honor of your family, 'Friend of Faerie." Without another word, she sprinted into the throng of battle.
Jaime grinned to himself. That was right, he had a goal in mind. An ambition he had sold his soul for, all he had to do is fight for it.
He sprang into action, jumping a guy who was engaged in battle with Dru. The guy had dived in close and managed to knock her gun away, the close proximity was a disadvantage for a great sword like Phaesphoros.
Jaime took him out with one good swing to the back of his head and tossed Dru his gun. She was a better shot than him anyways.
She looked up at him in surprise, her green eyes coming to life again from the lock and key she threw herself into when the battle began. Her hair was in disarray, and she held Phaesphoros with purpose.
She was an incredible sight.
He gave her a cocky smile until the sound of another gunshot went off and a collective cry of outrage erupted around them.
When he turned around he saw the back of Clara Pontmercy's head shatter in an explosion of red as her body fell to the ground.
The red did not leave Jaime's eyes as they fell on her killer. A tall man almost twice Clara's age and height held his smoking gun aloft for everyone to see. His scarless features and lack of runes told Jaime everything he needed to know, he was from Thule just like Clara and in his second change of life, he had stolen hers.
Dru screamed in anger and dived for him. But it wouldn't be easy getting to him from where he stood in the middle of several ongoing battles.
Jaime flew after him, letting his passion and anger send him rampaging into the fight.
But he wouldn't make it there.
His arms felt like they were going to burst open as they weighed his hammer down. It was spreading in his abdomen now, shredding through his muscles, crippling him as he hunched over. He had to keep going, he told himself, but his stomach was exploding, his dizziness worsened.
A nausea that hit like poison and gasoline threw him to the floor.
Everything was hot, too hot, his body would explode.
He tried to dig his hands into the dirt and make himself crawl, the pain forced him to bow so low he was breathing in the dirt.
"Jaime! He heard Dru cry out. The sound of her voice made him close his eyes in defeat.
He couldn't make it, his insides would be torn to shreds soon and all he would have done is cower in the middle of a battle.
He didn't want her to see him like this, he would battle this curse into submission if he could avoid that. His eyes snapped open and felt his soul rally in response.
Dive through the thorns and don't stop, don't fear, keep fighting.
Then someone pulled him up and a scream of pain was unwillingly ripped from him as the thorns tore at his muscles as they tried to comply.
"¡Jaime, Oh Dios mío! ¿Lo que pasó?"
Jaime let his head fall back to see his brother staring down at him. Diego was wearing his usual Scholomance gear and his pin obnoxiously out as a symbol of pride for the Clave as Shadowhunters fought one another to the death. The scar on his face twisted as the panic on his face quickly spread.
Jaime tried to speak but it came out as a choke.
Diego didn't lose any more time picking him up. Jaime did his best to choke down his screams.
He felt himself being jostled as Diego began to run with him all the while whispering to himself,
"¡Mi hermanito pequeño! ¡Jaime, Jaime!"
He rolled his head to the side, his vision growing dark to see Dru's stricken face as she cut through the crowd to get to him. Then the crowd around her surged for her, leaving Phaesporos as the only he could see as she vanished in an angry black sea.
He lifted his hand to reach for her until that angry black sea came for him too.
"¿Qué te ha pasado mi hermanito?"