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Disclaimer: I own Celeste and Moriah- nothing else!
…
Chapter 7: Dreams and Worries
It had been days.
Days of Jace sitting in the infirmary, tired of looking at Clary's pale face and yet being fearful to look away. Days of him holding Moriah and shushing her when she whined at anyone who tried to take her away from him. Days of overhearing snippets of conversation between Robert and Maryse about some hiccup in Idris. He didn't know the details and he didn't care to. All that mattered was Clary and when she would wake up.
If she wakes up…
That line of thought always made Jace's throat close up on him. He couldn't lose Clary. Not now, not after everything. She couldn't have lived through the hell that was the Fairy Cells only to die now from whatever Aster had injected her with.
They had found Aster's body in that basement, along with the now empty syringe. As far as Magnus could tell, it had been some sort of fairy poison. But as it had been formed by someone in the Underworld, no doubt it had been changed, warped into something with no antidote that they knew of. Either Clary would have to get better on her own or she would not get better at all.
It was a waiting game, a horrible, impatient waiting game for the future and yet fearing what the future would bring when it arrived. Jace felt horrible and useless and angry and longed to do something. But there was nothing to be done. Nothing but wait.
Moriah waited with him. Maryse had told him about how she had screamed suddenly and at seemingly nothing. She had stopped as abruptly as she had begun and hadn't made a sound since. Even now she was quiet in his lap, leaning against him and staring off into space as they sat in the Infirmary. It was as if she knew, Jace reflected. She knew something was wrong with Clary and she was as fearful of leaving her side as he was.
So for days they haunted the Infirmary. Jace barley slept and could barely bring himself to eat. He supposed it was his own bad example that was causing Moriah to do the same.
At first, Jace thought he had to be mistaken. Surely those few times he fell asleep by accident, Moriah fell asleep while sitting next to him? But as hours dragged by, he had a horrible suspicion that that was not the case. Dark circles were formed under her eyes, and her eyes lacked their usual sparkle of intelligence. He had to repeat her name several times before she seemed to focus on him.
Days and days. Hours and hours. Waiting and hoping. Clary, please.
…
Clary saw a house. A house in Idris. It look familiar. She was sure she had seen it before. She blinked and next thing she knew she was inside, though how she wasn't sure since she hadn't taken a step forward.
She stood in a living room. A very bare living room. Either the house was in the process of being emptied out or moved in, or the people who lived here were very minimalistic. Clary was by a sofa, and lounged on it with her feet propped up on the back was a girl who couldn't have been much older than Clary. She had blonde hair in braids and was outfitted in what looked like simple workout clothes. She didn't look terrible happy, Clary thought. She was staring in the direction of a TV, but the set was turned off.
Clary turned as she heard footsteps enter the room. ''There you are!"' said a young woman who looked remarkably like Isabelle. ''What, you don't answer the door anymore?''
The girl on the couch shrugged. ''You clearly didn't need me to.''
''There is nothing here,'' said another voice. A young man entered and Clary blinked in surprise at the sight of a young Robert Lightwood. He cast his glance around the living room. ''There is actually nothing here.''
''Hey.'' The girl patted a couch cushion. ''It can hear you.''
''Cèline,'' Maryse said gently, leaning over to look at her. ''Don't take this the wrong way, but have you and Stephen done anything to prepare?''
''In what way?'' Cèline asked with an air of feigned innocence.
''A child needs things,'' Maryse clarified. ''Tell me you've done something.''
Cèline frowned in contemplation. ''I watched For Keeps.'' She tilted her head to look at Maryse better. ''Does that count?''
Maryse looked weary. She exchanged a look with Robert.
The scene suddenly melted away. Now Clary was in a different place. This one she also recognized, unfortunately with more clarity than she would like.
The cells. She saw herself, sitting in a pool of her own blood. She had ripped her stitches one to many times. They didn't care if she bled out anymore. Her baby was screaming somewhere, and there was also the sound of fighting. Jace. She could hear him. Where was he? What were they doing to him?
She couldn't breathe. She was drowning in a sea of panic. I won't let them die. I can't let them die.
Something clicked in her mind. Perhaps some logic kicked in, or maybe it was simply survival instinct. Her hands, that had been shackled more often than not since arriving, had a life of their own. Her chains clinked on the floor, but the chaos happing outside was too much for anyone to notice.
She dipped her fingertips in the blood. She studied the redness before reaching slightly to the stone tile beside her. She drew.
Downstroke. Diagonal. Right up and down again. Anger and sadness and desperation. I will not stay here. I will not die. Jace will not die. My baby will not die. We will live.
They will not.
The pattern shined on the floor. It was fitting it was drawn with her blood. Survival.
Light filled everything. An explosion went off, right on the wall behind Clary. She had to roll to get out of the way, causing even more pain to zip through her. White spots danced in her vision, and it was a blessing when she passed out.
Clary was still standing there, watching as the memory played. She closed her eyes as she saw Jace approaching, looking for her in the rubble. No. Please. I can't see this again. I can't live through that moment again.
But it seemed she didn't have a choice. Jace bent down to Clary, and Clary, with just enough consciousness, shook her head at him.
''I'm still shackled,'' she told him. ''We- we don't have time.''
''Yes we do.'' He went to work yanking at the chains, trying to loosen them.
She shook her head again. She knew from experience that yanking them would do no good. ''Jace.'' Clary felt her heart in her throat. She remembered how much it took in her to tell him what she needed to say. What it was like to defy every self preserving instinct in her being and do what had to be done. ''You need to find her.''
He nodded, still focused on the chains. ''We will.''
''Jace.'' She looked at him then. Looked at his sick and pale face and knew she couldn't move on her own, and knew he wouldn't be able to help her. ''You need to go.''
He looked at her too. He knew the same thing. ''No.''
''Jace-''
''I'm not leaving you here. Not a chance.''
''She needs you.'' Clary clasped his hand. ''She needs you more than me.''
''We're all getting out of here.''
''Of course we are. But not now. Right now, you and her need to go. Find her and get her. Save her.''
Jace threw the chains down in disgust. ''I am not leaving you here.''
''I know.'' She reached for his face. ''You'll come back. Or I'll catch up. But right now…''
She could the pain in his eyes. The warrior in him knew she was right but everything else in him was screaming at him otherwise. He looked broken. But they both knew what had to be done.
He leaned close to her. He held her head in his hands. ''I am coming back for you,'' he said. ''I will be back and we are all going home. Okay?''
''Okay.'' She grasped his wrists. ''Okay.''
He pressed his forehead against her's. Clary tried desperately to catch his scent, his feeling and presence. He kissed her forehead and she knew he was doing the same with her.
Clary in the doorway fell to her knees as Jace walked away. She didn't want to remember the feeling of fear, of wondering if he was even going to find their daughter, if he was even going to get out alive. She didn't want to remember, she didn't ever want to feel that scared and worried and panicked again.
Please, please make it stop.
…
Max was tired of being the youngest. He was tired of people leaving him out of the loop and he was tired of only being wanted when said people needed him for something. It led to situations such as when everyone traipsed back from the hunt only to disappear into the Infirmary because once again, they lied and did something they weren't supposed to.
What the hunt had really been all about Max still didn't know. All he knew was that Clary was injured, someone in Idris was pissed off, and seemingly the only thing anyone thought he was good for was baby siting.
Max sighed at himself. He felt a little guilty for being so annoyed, but it was annoying knowing that everyone aside from Simon and Isabelle were off having some conversation where ImportantTM stuff was being discussed, and he was stuck here with the little kids.
He frowned. Where did Simon and Isabelle go?
''You okay, Max?''
Max snapped back the present. ''Yeah, Rafe,'' he replied. ''I don't supposed you know what they are discussing?''
Rafe shook his head. ''Papa just said we had to hurry and he'd tell us why later.''
Max tried to ignore the disappointment. Desperate hope anyway, prompting the five year old for overheard conversation.
He kicked his foot angrily. He glanced around the library where they'd been told to stay. On the sofa baby Max was curled up, having fallen asleep after stacking some special edition classic books like building blocks. On another seat, sitting up stock still with her hands in her lap, was Moriah.
Max had heard her screaming the other night. He had come running in, but Moriah had stopped as suddenly as she had begun. Still she had a panicked stricken look in her eyes, and she had not made another sound since then. Her gaze fell on him and she stared until he had to look away for fear of those black voids sucking him in.
The library door opening made Max jump. ''Daddy!'' Rafe declared breathlessly, running to Alec. Alec caught him up in an embrace.
''Hey, buddy.''
''Everything okay?'' Max asked.
Alec's face was grim as he came over. ''There's been no change.''
''Is Clary going to be okay?'' Rafe asked in worry.
Alec hesitated before answering. ''Yeah. I'm sure she will, Rafe.''
Max realized that, once again, his siblings were holding something back from him. ''What's the problem? Can't Magnus identify the poison?''
Alec gave a sigh as he cast his glance about the room. His gaze went to baby Max on the couch and then to behind Max where Moriah was sitting. He frowned. ''Where's Moriah?''
''Right on the chair. Can't Magnus?''
''Max, she's not there.''
''Yeah, right.''
''I'm not kidding.''
''He's not kidding, Max,'' Rafe interjected.
Startled, Max turned around and saw Moriah's now empty seat. ''Where the hell…'' he looked around the room and realized Alec had left the library door open. ''Oh, great job, man.''
Without further explanation, Max ran out of the library. He hesitated in the hall for only a moment before realizing if there was anywhere Moriah would go, it would be to her parents. He set off in the direction of the Infirmary.
He got to the door just in time to see Moriah slip through the half open door. How on earth did she get here so fast? Max pondered as he went in after her.
The Infirmary was a big room and very open, so Max was confused on how upon entering he couldn't see Moriah. Further down a screen was set up, which he assumed Clary was behind. Not far off he could see Jace, sitting on a windowsill. His stomach tightened at the sight of him. He didn't like seeing him so sickly looking. He had seemed to be getting better, but the past few days had put him back to square one.
Jace looked up upon noticing Max. ''What are you doing?''
Max opened his mouth to speak, but realized now was probably not the best time to mention he had lost his daughter. ''Uh, Alec came in and I-''
He trailed off as someone came out from behind the screen and approached them. What was Jonathan doing here?
Jonathan approached. ''Magnus thinks he might know of an antidote,'' he said, addressing Jace and ignoring Max. ''Thinks it's worth a shot. But if these fairies are of the Underworld-''
''It might be not work,'' Jace finished blandly.
''Is she okay?'' Max asked.
Jonathan shrugged. ''She has some injures from her battle with Aster, but other than that she's fine. I mean, apart from the being unconscious part.''
''Battle with who?''
Jonathan flashed his creepy smile. Max wasn't sure if Jace was annoyed by Jonathan's manner or simply decided he was done with them both. In either case, he got up and made his way without comment to the other side of the room. ''Battle with who?'' Max asked Jonathan again. ''What happened exactly?''
Jonathan shrugged. ''Read the mission report.''
''I want to know what actually happened.''
''Such a skeptic.'' Max glared at him. Jonathan's manner wasn't exactly the ideal concerned big brother. It was only because of everything he'd been through with him that Max knew he felt more than he let on.
Jonathan made to walk away. ''Oh, that thing you didn't lose?'' he said as an afterthought on his way to the doorway. ''Is already at the other end of the room.''
''Crap.'' Max darted past.
He reached the screen only to pause. Moriah was already here, as Jonathan had said. Jace had picked her up and was holding her, swaying back and forth and running a hand through her hair. Max heard her give a low whine, the first sound she had made in a while. ''Shh,'' Jace whispered. ''She'll be okay. She's going to be okay.''
Quietly, Max withdrew. There was a tone in Jace's voice that made him wonder whether he was saying that to Moriah or to himself.
…
Simon went to the door, raised his fist to knock, only to drop it again and walk back down the hallway to Isabelle. ''I can't do it.''
''Really,'' she remarked dryly. ''Cause I really believe in you that time.''
''I need a moment.''
''You've had several.''
''It's not that simple,'' Simon argued. ''You don't understand.''
''No, I do. You are scared of Jocelyn.''
''No, I am scared of Clary's mother. There's a difference.''
''Really isn't.''
''Jocelyn is the cool artist chick who would order massive amounts of take out on Friday nights so we could all binge watch movies. Clary's mother is the woman who makes Reverend Shaw Moore go 'wow, a bit of an overreaction there, don't you think?'''
''Reverend who?''
''My god I still have so much work to do with you.''
Isabelle rolled her eyes. ''C'mon. She deserves to know about Clary.''
''Glad to see you've come around to my point of view.''
''What can I say, I've had some time to think it over since waiting for you to knock.''
Simon sighed. He went back to the door. ''You do it,'' he said abruptly, turning back towards her.
''Ladies and gentlemen, a proud graduate of the Shadowhunter Academy,'' Isabelle muttered under her breath. She went to the door and knocked. ''Can you imagine if Ren Mccormack had had your resolve?''
''God I love you.'' She gave him her signature angry, yet happy, glare.
The door opened and there stood Jocelyn. ''Oh. What are you-''
''Hi, how are ya?'' Isabelle said without preamble. ''Can we come in? Thanks.''
She brushed past into the apartment. Simon followed. ''Hi,'' he greeted Jocelyn.
Jocelyn closed the door behind them. ''Why are you here?''
''Where's Luke?'' Simon asked.
''At the bookstore. Why?''
''Call him.''
''What?''
''Call him and tell him to pick you up and then both of you get your asses over to the Institute,'' Isabelle ordered.
Jocelyn inhaled deeply. ''This is a matter between me and my daughter so I would thank you both to please, stay out of it.''
''What a good idea.'' Isabelle turned to Simon. ''Let's everyone stay out of it. You, me, Clary.''
''What are you talking about?'' Jocelyn asked.
''Something's wrong with Clary,'' Simon explained.
Jocelyn's irritated demeanor fell from her face. ''What do you mean something's wrong? What happened?''
''She fought a fairy. She won, but not without injuries.''
''What kind of injuries?''
''She's unconscious,'' Isabelle supplied. ''She got injected with fairy poison. We don't know what type or if there's an antidote.''
Jocelyn stared at them. She then turned to the coat rack by the door for her purse. ''I'll call Luke,'' she said, digging around for her cell phone. ''We'll be there within the hour.''
Isabelle nodded. ''Good.''
She walked back to the door, but Simon held back. He grabbed Jocelyn's wrist as she dialed Luke's number. ''Simon-''
''If you can not be courteous and polite and respectful of Moriah,'' he warned, ''then don't come. Clary would not want you there.''
Jocelyn's green eyes flashed at him. ''I never wanted-''
''I know.'' Simon dropped her arm. ''I'll see you later.''
He joined Isabelle in the hallway. She linked her arm in his as they walked. ''Aww, you are such a Willard.''
Simon scoffed. He kissed her cheek.
…
Jonathan traipsed through side streets behind the Institute. He knew there was nothing he could do and everyone preferred it when he wasn't around. Yet he couldn't bring himself to stray too far away. Stupid, human sentiment.
His ears pricked at movement nearby. He ignored it until Celeste fell in step beside him. She had been hiding out in his house for the past few days, and looked the better for it. She bit her lip as she asked, ''How is she?''
''What do you think?'' he replied nastily.
''Did he give her poison?''
''Surely you already knew that?''
Celeste ignored him. ''You don't know what type?''
''No one knows what type. Only Aster would and since she killed him…'' Jonathan trailed off. He stopped, anger and indecisiveness tearing at him. ''She could die,'' he said blandly. ''If we don't find out what that bastard gave her, she will die.''
''I know.''
Jonathan ran his fingers through his hair in irritation. Usually he found comfort in Celeste's bland, unemotional manner. Now it was grating on his nerves. ''Aster never said anything to you?'' he prompted her. ''What about any of his minions?''
Celeste shook her head. ''All I knew was that he wanted Clary. I didn't know to what end.''
Jonathan shoved his fists in his pocket. ''Someone has to know something,'' he insisted.
''Perhaps.''
''You found the fairies hiding her once before. Could you do it again?''
''Perhaps.'' Jonathan resisted the urge to slap her. ''Why?''
''Someone has to know something.''
''Ideally, but-''
He held up a hand. ''Let's just go with 'ideally'.''
Celeste shrugged her shoulders. ''Alright. So, we find someone who knows something, and then what? They just tell us what we want to know?''
The corner of Jonathan's mouth twitched. This was something he could do, something he was actually good at. A mission, something to retrieve and someone to interrogate. A plan with a start, middle and end. ''Celeste,'' he chided, tugging one of her braids. ''Surely I don't need to explain to you what we do?''
Celeste stared at him. Then she smiled as well.
…
Alec stood in the Infirmary, watching Magnus as he attended to Clary. She still had not woken up. She looked virtually unchanged from when she had collapsed into Jace's arms outside that old building. Every now and then she would twitch in her sleep, curling up on herself tighter. She had sweat on her brow. A fever from whatever poison was in her veins.
Unease stirred in Alec. Magnus was giving Clary what should cure the poison, if it were not unchanged from whatever the Underworld did. But there was not guarantee it would work. It might, it might not, it might lesson the symptoms, or maybe make it worse. There was no telling.
There were so many other things going on as well. What had exactly become of that creature they had seen? Jonathan said it wasn't one of the Underworld's but he hadn't elaborated. And on their way back to the Institute they had noticed it gone. Why was it there in the first place?
And to top it all off, there was the problem his parents were having with the officials in Idris…
Alec pinched the bridge of his nose. His head was beginning to hurt. His eyes wandered to the window seat, where Jace had been practically living for the past few days. He had now, thankfully, fallen asleep, his head leaning against the window pane.
Alec forced himself to focus as Magnus came over. ''Anything?'' he asked, not sure what he was expecting to hear. Magnus shrugged.
''I've done all I can. If the cure works, she should…'' he trailed off, and Alec followed his gaze. ''What are you doing?''
Moriah Cèline was running across the room, seating herself on Clary's bed. She must've been sitting with Jace, but Alec hadn't even known she was in the Infirmary. Judging from Magnus' tone, he hadn't either. ''Moriah, no.''
Magnus went back over to the bed and took the girl by the hand. Alec had to repress a shiver. ''Leave Clary alone. She needs to rest.'' Moriah gave an impatient whine.
Alec watched as Magnus came back over again. He didn't understand Moriah. Putting aside the issue of her black pupils, she was just overall strange. Factoring in the time Clary and Jace had been missing and since they returned, Moriah only should have been a few months old. She looked at most two, acted older, and was very small, but perhaps it was just the contrast of her manners and her appearance that made it seem that way. She also didn't speak, but just grunted or whined or gurgled in her throat. This combined with her deadening stare made her very…unsettling. Not that Clary and Jace thought so.
''Alec?''
Alec realized Magnus was talking to him. He snapped out of his thoughts. ''Sorry, what?''
Maguns looked uncomfortable. ''I told Maryse I would talk to her,'' he said. ''Are you alright with…'' he held up Moriah's hand.
Alec blinked. With Jace asleep, there was no one to watch Moriah. Simon and Isabelle were out. Besides, it wasn't like Moriah was going to leave the room willingly. She only left willing if Jace told her too. ''Uh, yeah. Fine.''
''I can-''
''No, I got her.'' She's your parabati's daughter, he told himself. You can do this.
Magnus nodded and dropped Moriah's hand, leaving the room. For a moment, Alec and Moriah just stared at each other. Then, with a slow blink, Moriah turned on her heel and went back to the bed.
''No,'' Alec reminded her, grabbing her arm. ''You can't sit with Clary.'' She stared at him before trying to tug away. ''Stop that.''
Alec picked her up to stop her tugging. Goosebumps appeared on his arms. She was so cold. Max and Rafe were so warm, so full of life. Moriah just seemed…dead.
Stop it.
Alec knew it was wrong to think that way. But he honestly didn't understand. Clary talked and cooed to Moriah just as she did with his boys, and Jace practically doted on the girl. They loved her to no end and though they tried to hide it, Alec knew everyone's aversion to Moriah cut them deeply. They didn't understand their aversion anymore than everyone else understood their love for her.
Parabati's daughter, Alec reminded himself.
He adjusted his grip on Moriah, holding her so he could face her. She had her hands on his shirt, staring at them rather then him. ''I know you want to sit with her,'' Alec said. ''But you can't. She's hurt and we need to be quiet and let her rest.''
Moriah raised her eyes to him, almost judging. I need to be quiet? Really? There was something very Jace-like in her expression.
Alec rocked slightly, due to nervousness rather than Moriah. She was still staring at him. ''I know you're impatient. We all are. But you gotta listen, okay?''
Moriah gave another slow blink before making a noise in her throat. ''Is that you agreeing? Albeit with reluctance?''
''Hmmmm,'' Moriah said, the sound high pitched. She cocked her head to the side.
''God, when you decide to talk, if you have the argumentative attitude of both your parents I don't know what we'll do.''
Moriah rubbed her eyes with her fist, now seemingly ignoring Alec. He watched as she looked to Clary's bed, almost petulantly. The dark shadows under her eyes were very prominent. ''You really haven't slept, have you?''
Underneath Alec's revulsion at her, there was a layer of concern. What had those faeries done to her exactly? What was she? Could she really continue on as she had?
Moriah kicked her feet. She whined and squirmed in Alec's grasp. ''Oh, c'mon. Don't be like that.''
''She okay?''
Alec jumped at the voice. He turned around and saw Jace standing behind him. ''Do you have to move so silently?''
Jace tilted his head at him, exactly how Moriah had done a few moments ago. ''I could wear a bell around my neck if you'd like.'' He looked at Moriah before Alec could reply. ''Is she okay?''
''She's fine.'' Moriah reached for Jace. Jace took her and she immediately rested her chin on his shoulder, looking over to the direction of Clary. ''Just knows what she wants.''
''Hmm.'' Jace looked at Moriah, one hand stroking her messy golden curls. Alec heard Moriah make another noise, almost a purr.
''Why don't you take her back to your room and get some sleep?'' He suggested. ''Maybe go crazy and actually eat something? I'll stay with Clary.''
''I'm fine,'' Jace answered absently. His gaze still on Moriah, he turned to no doubt go back to his perch.
Frustration flared up in Alec. He grabbed his arm. ''Jace,'' he said imploringly. ''You can't go on like this.''
''Alec, don't.''
''Clary waking up is not dependent on whether you are in the room or not.''
''Shut up.''
Alec sighed. ''Jace-''
''You don't understand,'' Jace said harshly. ''The last time I left-'' he stopped himself, clamping his jaw shut.
Alec's position faltered. He didn't know the details of what happened in the Fairy Realms. He took in the harshness of Jace's features, his tight grip on Moriah. Hatred for the fairies and sympathy for his brother coursed through him. ''She's safe,'' he said quietly. ''She is safe and she is going to wake up and the first thing she is going to do is kick your ass for not taking better care of yourself.''
Jace scoffed, averting his gaze from Alec and looking back at Moriah. ''Just get out of here for a little while. Eat something. Sleep in a real bed. Who knows,'' Alec added, gesturing to Moriah. ''Maybe she'll sleep a little too.''
Jace was silent for a moment. Alec was relieved when he gave a stiff nod. ''Fine. I'll be back in an hour.''
''On the dot I have no doubt.'' Jace gave him a look. Alec waved behind him. ''Go. Sleep.''
Slowly, no doubt fighting every nerve in his body, Jace walked toward the door. Alec reflected he had probably only agreed because he thought Alec might have point; perhaps Moriah would relax if Jace did.
Moriah was sill peering over Jace's shoulder, her black eyes looking past Alec to Clary. Alec wondered at what her demon mind understood.
…
There was a buzzing in Jocelyn's ears the entire way to the Institute. Everything from the sound of traffic to Luke speaking to her sounded as if she were underwater, and the noises all were calling down to her.
She managed to feign understanding when Maryse greeted her, and then tune everything out as they were led to the Infirmary. There was an icicle feeling stabbing at her heart. She was very familiar with the sensation. It had followed her all her life every time something bad happened. It was a compass almost, a personally little warning sign telling her 'you are not going to like this.'
And like it not indeed. She stared down at her daughter in the Infirmary bed, her red hair looking too much like blood on the white sheets. It wasn't right. Clary should not look like that.
Luke and Maryse were talking, but still Jocelyn did not hear them. Clary was curled on her side, the sheet pulled up over her shoulder. But it was coated with sweat, as was her face. She groaned in her sleep, and Jocelyn couldn't resist reaching out a hand and stroking her cheek. She seemed cold considering how sweaty she was.
The icicle feeling drove itself deeper into her heart. All Jocelyn could think about was their last conversation, how angry Clary had been at her and, in all honestly, how angry she had been at her.
Jocelyn bit her cheek and forced herself to look away. Apologies after the fact were pointless and entirely self serving. What matter now was what was next. ''How did this happen?''
''They were hunting,'' Maryse answered her. ''Simon and Isabelle said Clary got separated, and she must've run into one of the fairies who imprisoned them.''
'' 'Must've'?'' Jocelyn repeated. ''They don't know for sure?''
''Jace identified the body.''
''How did the fairy know where they were?'' Luke asked. ''Why was it looking for Clary?''
Maryse spread her hands. ''All questions I would love to get answers to.''
The uncertainty and unknowns angered Jocelyn. She sat down on the bed next to Clary's, her gaze resting on her again. ''Magnus gave an antidote?'' Luke asked.
Maryse nodded. ''We have to wait and see if it will have any effect.''
Jocelyn continued to look at Clary. Luke place a hand on her shoulder, but she barley felt it. All she could see was that icicle in her chest, driving a deeper and deeper hole in her heart.
…
Me: I hope you liked this chapter! If you have time, please leave a review. And hey- can you guess what movie Simon and Isabelle were referencing?
Happy Writing!
