The skies of Alicante were a beautiful deep purple when they headed out of the Starkweather townhouse. Hodge resisted the urge to take all of the books in the library upstairs; he had many first editions he'd secretly moved from the manor in preparation for the fire. He didn't want to think about the days leading up to that fire.

The streets were empty, and Hodge resented the Clave for taking his glasses. Alicante at dusk was just as beautiful as it was at sunset. Alas, all he saw were blurry shadows where houses were and specks of glowing light where the glass towers stood watch. He was holding onto Eva's elbow as they crossed one of the many bridges, as if he wasn't a fugitive and Eva his accomplice. Just two Shadowhunters out for an early stroll.

Alec, Izzy, and Jace split from them to exit the city via the northern gate while Eva and Hodge went for the western gate. It was mostly precautionary in case anyone recognized them or to provide alibis should the need arise. Hodge was shocked these children could come up with something so complex, but he chastised himself. These children were nearly adults now—officially, Alec and Eva were adults under the Law, but Isabelle and Jace were as mature as any adult when the time called for it. Unfortunately, Nephilim rarely had a childhood and grew up far too quickly.

Hodge was nervous as they approached the western gate. There were two sleepy looking Shadowhunters fully armed and geared in black standing on either side. They lifted their heads at hearing their footsteps, scanned them both with their eyes, and greeted them kindly.

"I can't imagine why anyone would wake up at this hour willingly," one of them said through a yawn. "Where are you two headed?"

Eva opened her mouth to speak, but Hodge beat her to it. "The outskirts of Brocelind Forest. It rained last night, and on the morning after a rainshower, lembas mushrooms sprout under rowan trees. When they're cooked correctly, they can fill your stomach for an entire day."

"I could use one of those right now," the other Shadowhunter chuckled softly. "Good luck."

They walked through the gate and when they were just out of earshot, Eva burst into laughter. "Lembas? Like Elven bread?"

"I attempted to make a recipe for your mother once after she drove me insane," Hodge smiled at the memory. "She wasn't impressed by my baking skills."

Eva smiled a sad smile, likely feeling the pain he projected to her. As they waited for dusk at the townhouse, she filled him in on what he'd missed out on. She told him about Simon Lewis becoming a vampire—his sire none other than Raphael—and Eva's ability to sense emotions leading to her ability to speak the Language of Thoughts. She showed him the foreign rune on her arm and even touched his mind, making him nearly jump out of his skin.

"What was she like?" Eva asked, kicking a rock down the path they walked on. They were meeting the others at Ragnor Fell's house, a warlock that lived in the outskirts of Alicante and helped them Portal into Idris. "Marigold?"

"She was perfection." Hodge said it without second thought. It was the truth. "She was so lively, so passionate about everything she did and such a selfless person. I was lucky to have her love; I certainly didn't deserve it after everything I put her through."

"You didn't—"

"I insisted on keeping Valentine in our lives; I was blind to how evil he truly was, and Marigold saw it all," he sighed. "I ignored the signs. She suffered because of me."

"I'm sure she wouldn't blame you."

"She should," Hodge said. "And I hope she did."

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Eva asked the question he knew was coming. "What happened in the fire?"

"It's a long story, and it's one I'd rather tell without interruptions," Hodge said, slowing his pace for emphasis. "I've never...spoken of it. I've never had to say it aloud. I've never been able to."

Just saying those words made his throat burn with tears and his voice falter. He was still haunted by it even after all these years; the guilt and the darkness and the nightmares that suffocated him in the weeks and months that followed. He went so long without eating, or sleeping, or showering, or even seeing the sun. No one visited him, except for Valentine, and he knew it was only to ask carefully pointed questions in order to piece the events of the fire together. Thankfully, it wasn't hard to fool him when you were a shattered, empty shell of regrets and grief.

"Okay," Eva nodded. "I understand."

Hodge stopped walking, making her do the same. She looked at him longingly as he weighed his options in his head, debating on whether to say this crucial piece of information, or keep holding onto it and possibly regretting it later. As he always did.

"But I will say this," Hodge started carefully. He didn't need glasses to see Eva's eyes go wide. "There's a chance Jace may not be Valentine's son."

Eva remained silent, letting him explain. Hodge did. "After the fire and after I recovered somewhat, I had to play the role of idiot zealot. I had to make Valentine believe I thought the Clave was responsible for Marigold's death, and that I was unquestionably loyal to him." Hodge chose his next words carefully. "Stephen Herondale was one of the Circle members, and he was beginning to lose faith in Valentine, and so Valentine had him killed."

"Maryse and Robert told me about him," Eva said. "He was Inquisitor Herondale's son, and he was married to Luke's sister, but Valentine split them up and had Stephen marry another woman named Celine."

"When Stephen died, she was pregnant with their son, and she…" Hodge swallowed at the lump in his throat. "She killed herself, but Valentine and I arrived in time to cut her son out of her womb—well, I did. Valentine watched."

"And that baby is Jace?"

"This happened a bit before the Uprising and Valentine and Jocelyn's son had already been born." Hodge recalled the child with his white-blonde hair playing with Alec as toddlers. "I took care of the child for a few days and then I never saw him again after Valentine took him. When Jace arrived at the Institute, I received a letter from Valentine telling me Jonathan was his son but I didn't know which Jonathan he was referring to—his adopted son, or his biological son."

"Does Jace look like Stephen? Or more like Valentine? Or Celine?"

"It's hard to tell; Stephen and Celine were blonde with blue eyes, and Valentine is blonde with dark eyes and Jace certainly bears no resemblance to Jocelyn. He doesn't look like anyone."

"He's one of a kind," Eva said with an amused roll of her eyes. "He'd be thrilled to hear that."

Hodge let out an amuse chuckle, but it quickly died in his throat. "I've kept many secrets from all of you, and I'm trying to make amends. But I don't think telling Jace this would help him in any way."

"It wouldn't," Eva shook her head. "He's catastrophically in love with Clary, and he'll grasp at anything to be with her. I don't want to get his hopes up and cause them both more grief in the long run."

"I don't know where the other one is," Hodge added. "The other Jonathan. As far as the Clave knows, his son burned to death in the Fairchild manor."

"Tessa told me you thought that was unoriginal of Valentine," Eva smiled softly. Hodge saw her attempt to lighten the mood, despite how morbid it was.

"What he's attempting to do is nothing new in the eyes of history," Hodge said. "But they always say history repeats itself, and now is no exception."


The sun was halfway up the horizon when they arrived at Ragnor's house. It was a cozy cottage tucked into a field of pine trees with a stone walkway and potted plants. The chimney was spewing grey smoke in the shape of animals and when they neared the cottage, the smoke began to take the form of exclamation marks.

The door opened for them when they arrived at the front porch. Hodge followed Eva through the threshold and the delicious smell of breakfast hit him full force. It made him remember he hadn't had a proper meal in weeks and his stomach gnawed at the thought of something that wasn't bland or cold.

The first person to approach them in the sitting room was none other than Raphael. Hodge didn't need clear vision to recognize him in his simple t-shirt, leather jacket, and jeans with expensive boots. He also didn't need glasses to see his face was pinched in a frown.

"You took longer than the others," Raphael began. "Isabelle said you were fine, but I'm not an optimist."

"I know." Eva approached him to press a kiss to his cheek. "You remember Hodge, right?"

Hodge expected a snarky remark, or perhaps a backhanded compliment or a complaint on how breaking him out of prison was putting Eva in danger. Instead, Raphael stepped forward, looking straight into his eyes as if he wanted to hypnotize him with an encanto, and extended his hand. Hodge stared incredulously, but understood. He took Raphael's hand and gave him a firm shake.

A silent acknowledgement.

Raphael awkwardly pulled his hand away and cleared his throat. "Everyone's in the kitchen. Ragnor made waffles."

Hodge was reminded of the breakfast table in the Institute, when he'd cook for everyone and keep them from bickering and making a mess. Now was no different as Jace kept taking bacon strips from Isabelle's plate and the girl complaining while her brother tried to calm the situation. Only this time, it was a very green warlock in a dressing gown and pajamas dishing out scoldings and scraping bacon off a pan and onto a plate.

"I never thought I'd be cooking for Nephilim!" Ragnor scoffed and caught eyes with Raphael, Eva, and Hodge at the entryway of the kitchen. He pointed a greasy spatula at them. "This is your fault, Raphael!"

"Mine? I don't even eat normal food," Raphael shrugged aloofly. He was no doubt enjoying how annoyed his friend was. "Besides, Eva's here. They'll eat, and we can all leave."

"Good riddance!" Ragnor said as he tossed his frying pan and spatula into the sink. He turned towards Hodge and Eva, looking them over carefully before he spoke, "Can't say it's a pleasure, but anything to thwart the Clave is always a pleasure."

"We all second that!" Jace said with a wave of his fork. Isabelle gave a cheer of acknowledgement and Alec feigned annoyance but in fact, secretly agreed with his siblings.

Hodge wanted to thank the warlock for helping his children and risking his life to house a fugitive. However, if he was anything like Raphael—which seemed to be the case—he would despise unnecessary words. So Hodge took a seat next to Eva at the table and began eating crispy waffles and bacon and scrambled eggs and buttered toast.

"Oh, Ragnor," Eva called out. Ragnor looked up from where he leaned against the counter with Raphael. They each had a mug in their hands, but while Ragnor's had steaming coffee, Raphael's had fresh lamb's blood. "Could you do me a favor?"

"It'll cost you double."

"Put it on Rapha's tab."

Ragnor raised his eyebrows in mild amusement. "What do you want? Choose wisely."

"A mug of Earl Grey tea with a splash of milk and two sugars."

When the mug appeared on the table after a snap of Ragnor's fingers, Eva pushed it towards Hodge. He nearly melted in appreciation when Eva grinned, "I know you're dying for some tea, Hodge."