Me: Thank you to all who reviewed! I hope you will enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing besides Moriah and Celeste.

Chapter 9: Triumphs…

''So,'' Max said slowly, trying to wrap his head around everything. ''You helped Clary and Jace escape?''

''Yes,'' Celeste replied.

''And then they helped you escape?''

''Yes.''

''And now you are going to help wake Clary up?''

''Yes.''

''I don't know.'' Max turned away from her to Jonathan. ''I think she kinda makes a mess of things.''

''He has a point,'' Celeste agreed eagerly.

''Unfortunately, you are all we have,'' Jonathan said. He gestured to the building. ''Alright. Which one, Celeste?''

''The one I was in,'' Celeste informed him. ''I saw May disappear in there. A fairy entrance should be close by.''

''Should?'' Max asked.

Celeste nodded. ''Should.''

''Okay.'' He inhaled deeply as Jonathan and Celeste set out in front of him. '' 'Should' it is then.''

Max followed them inside, trying to ignore the slight fear he had. These fairies were dangerous, this mission was dangerous, and at any moment someone could realize he was missing back home. Of course, the chances of this were slimmer than usual, considering all the chaos happening what with Clary and those officials from Idris. Hopefully everyone would stay busy enough not to notice him gone.

But not for too long, he thought to himself. If this mission did go wrong, he didn't want to think about what would happen if the fairies got the better of them…

''Watch your step,'' Jonathan warned, pointing out a large gap in the half built floor. He jumped across easily and Max followed with slightly less grace. Than again, he was with Jonathan. Max had yet to see Jonathan lose in a battle. And there was Celeste. Though she kinda creeped Max out, he figured if Jonathan respected her, she must be pretty good.

Celeste led the way up some rickety stars cases and a few twisting hallways. She stopped at an archway. ''Here.''

The glimmer of light against the back wall of the closet space gave away the fairy entrance. Without hesitation, Celeste walked through. Jonathan, after a smirk at Max as if to convey some sort of taunt, followed.

Max did as well. He blinked away the sudden spots in his eyes. The light was quite the contrast from the dark building.

Or maybe not, he realized as he looked around. They were underground in some sort of room, with bright lanterns illuminating the space. ''So, do we look for people or…?''

''Yep,'' Jonathan said stiffly. Max glanced at him and noticed his set face and stiff posture. Of course. Jonathan hated the fairy realms.

''You won't have to look long,'' a voice chimed in. From an open tunnel a fairy entered. She had blue hair that hung down her back. Even from far away Max could see her eyes were the same shade. Cold, crisp, sharp blue.

''Hello, Renage,'' Celeste greeted. Her tone always seemed plain but Max thought it sound dryer than usual. ''Thank you for meeting us.''

''Meeting us?'' Jonathan turned on her. ''What the hell-''

Celeste blinked at him. ''You said to find the fairies.''

''Yeah, find. Not meet for tea.''

''We are not having tea. I hate tea. You know this.''

''Do relax, Morgenstern,'' Renage said. ''Your friend here merely requested a meeting with me. I was glad to comply. I have a matter of some urgency that I think you will be pleased to hear of.''

''Like what?'' Jonathan demanded.

''It is my understanding that my former coworker, Aster, has met his fate at the hands of Clary Fairchild. Am I mistaken?''

''No,'' Jonathan said cheerily. ''She pummeled him to death. You're next.''

Renage gave a grim sort of smile. ''It is unpleasantries such as that that I wish to avoid. I knew Aster very well. I expect he did not go down without a fight.''

''You know he hurt her,'' Max chimed in. ''What did he do to her?''

Renage shrugged. ''Aster was very academically inclined. He loved to experiment with all sorts of things. I believe I might be able to help your Clary, perhaps, with the right incentive.''

''Which is?'' Jonathan asked.

''You of all people should know.'' Renage glanced at him. ''Leniency.''

''From what? The Clave?''

''The Clave, Jace and Clary. I want assurance that if I help you save Clary- and if i knew Aster, she needs saving- then I want leniency and protection.''

Jonathan laughed. ''You are a fool if you think I can grant you that.''

''You are Clary's brother. Why would you not be able too? After all, my crimes can hardly be compared to yours. Is it really fair for me to suffer more than you?''

''Oh, I am sorry,'' Jonathan purred. ''I'm not sure where you got the impression that I was at all concerned with fairness.''

''You should be.''

''Alas alack,'' Celeste commented. Max watched her as she studied a cut on her hand. She did not seem at all interested in this conversation.

It didn't seem to matter. Renage clearly was only concerned with Jonathan. ''You are not in a position to barter with me,'' she informed him. ''If you do not accept my terms, I will not give you the cure to heal Clary. She will die.''

Jonathan glared at her. ''Considering what you did to Moriah? I think Clary prefers it that way.''

Max could see the anger in Renage's face. Nevertheless, she laughed. ''Your decision,'' she said. She turned away. ''If that is your final word, we have nothing more to say to each other. I trust you know the way out.''

Max's heart lodged in his throat as he watched her go. ''We have to accept,'' he implored Jonathan. ''I don't like it either but if the alternative is Clary dying…''

Jonathan gave sharp exhale of breath. He was silent until Renage was out of sight, her footsteps no longer echoing through the cavern. He ignored Max and looked to Celeste. ''What the hell was that?''

''That,'' said Celeste, still picking at a scab on her hand. ''Was keeping up appearances. She was waiting for us to make a move and as far as she is concerned, we have made it. Now she will leave us be for a while.''

Max was confused. ''Huh?''

''You should've warned me,'' Jonathan insisted.

Celeste shrugged. ''You're not the best liar. You work better under pressure.'' She moved her hands to her side. ''Shall we?''

They started back through the fairy entrance. ''Will someone please tell me what's going on?'' Max asked.

''This was an act on our part,'' Jonathan informed him as they reappeared in the building. ''A way to take notice of the scene.''

''Notice of what? What about Clary? How are we going to get the cure?''

''We don't negotiate,'' Celeste said simply. ''We take.''

''From Renage?'' Max asked.

Celeste shook her head. ''Renage isn't someone you can take from.''

''Then who?''

''People who are not Renage.''

Max groaned. He turned to Jonathan. ''Our one shot at getting the cure left. What is the plan here?''

''Yes,'' Jonathan agreed. ''Renage left. But we know she's here. So therefore we know where she's not.''

''Which is?''

''With her coworkers.''

''Coworkers? But-'' Max trailed off as understanding dawned on him. ''Oh.''

Jonathan smiled. ''There is a reason some people are in charge,'' he told him. ''And why some are not trusted. It has to do with break-ability, if you will.'' They started walking out. ''You still have your sword?''

Simon sat down crossed legged on the floor, holding Moriah in his lap. ''Okay,'' he told her. ''Now, this is an important decision, okay? Arguably the most important decision of your life. Never again will there be a choice like this. A choice that will dictate your whole future, your whole personality. Later in life, you will look back and realize this was the starting point, the staring point of who you are and who you are going to be-''

''Oh for god's sake, Simon,'' Isabelle exclaimed. ''It's Pokèmon.''

Simon held a finger to his lips to shush her. ''Now…'' He leaned back on the floor and pulled Moriah closer to him. He directed her gaze to the stuffed animals he had laid out. ''Here are your choices.

''First up, we have Charmander.'' Simon picked up the toy and held it in front of Moriah. ''He's a lizard. A fire lizard. See his tail? That flame is his life. If it goes out, he dies.''

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. ''This game is market to children? Huh, maybe mundanes aren't as soft as I thought.''

''-But he's strong,'' Simon continued. ''The flame? It's super hot. Look. Ouch!'' He bounced his finger against the tail and hissed for dramatic affect. Moriah purred. ''Now-''

''Hang on,'' Isabelle said as Simon went to put the toy back in line. ''Don't they change? Evolve or whatever?''

''I can't tell her what he evolves into,'' Simon said out of the corner of his mouth. ''That would influence her decision. I can't do that.''

''But it's a strategy game. Picking your starter is apart of the strategy.''

'' 'Apart of the strategy'-'' Simon looked to the ceiling. ''Picking your starter is not strategy, Miss Isabelle Lightwood. It is a matter of the heart. A matter of calling. The moment you pick your starter is-''

Isabelle waved her hand impatiently. ''Yeah, yeah: 'the most important moment of your life'.'' She sat back on her bed with a sigh. ''We get it. Just keep going, you freak.''

''Next up,'' Simon continued as he picked up the next toy. ''Next up is Squirtle. Squirtle rhymes with turtle, see? He's a turtle.''

''Thank god you said that. Otherwise I'd never had guessed.''

''Don't be mean.''

''What can I say? The big shell on his back mislead me.''

''Anyway, Squirtle is a water type Pokèmon-''

''Ah! Hence the blue!''

''-And he's super fun. He makes a great noise. Squirsquir.'' Simon raised the toy to Moriah's face, making the nose and shaking Squirtle. ''Ah! He got you with water gun! Now last-''

''Hang on. We get a whole speech about how despite his tail, Charmander is not weak but all we get about Squirtle is he's 'fun'?''

''What are you implying?''

Isabelle pointed an accusing finger. ''Sounds to me someone doesn't want Squirtle to be picked.''

''I would never!''

''You're influencing her decision!''

''I object to that!''

''Well too bad. I'm not taking it back.''

Simon sniffed with indignation. ''Don't listen to her, Moriah,'' he said, brushing a stray golden curl back from her face. She craned her neck up to look at him. ''Now, last, but certainly not least, is this guy: BULBASAUR!'' Simon picked up the last toy and held him up triumphantly. ''He's a plant AND a dinosaur! How cool is that?''

Isabelle picked at her nails. ''Oh yeah, definitely not influencing her decision.''

''Shut up. Now, he's a grass type Pokèmon. He's got leaves, and seeds, and vines-''

''Pollen.''

''I will kick you out of here if I have too.''

Isabelle spread her arms. ''This is my room.''

''Still.'' Simon placed the toy back down. He gestured to all three. ''Okay, Moriah. Now, the moment of truth-''

''Why are there only three?''

Simon hung his head. ''Are you trying to ruin this moment?''

''There are only three,'' Isabelle repeated. ''What about the fourth one?''

''What fourth one? There are only three. There are always only three.''

''The one-'' she frowned. ''Always? How many starters are there?''

''Uh…'' Simon thought for a second. ''21.''

''21?'' Isabelle repeated in astonishment. ''There are 21 Pokèmon?''

''21 starters. There are 807 Pokemon.''

''807-'' Isabelle's mouth was hanging open. ''Why is she only picking from three?''

''Should I get all 807 plushies?''

''God no. We'd be here all night. But why-''

''Each game has three starters you choose from before you start playing the story mode. So you pick your first Pokèmon, which is what I am attempting to do here.''

''But why these three and not-''

''Because these are the original three!'' Simon said with vigor, implying this should be obvious. He rocked back with his statement, causing Moriah to sit down hard in his lap. She blinked at him in confusion.

Isabelle sighed. ''Whatever. But where's the fourth one?''

''There are always only three,'' Simon repeated with patience. Bored, Moriah wiggled out of Simon's grip.

''But in the anime the guy had a different one,'' Isabelle argued. ''A yellow rat or something.''

''That's Pikachu. It's only in the anime he got that because he was late. Weren't you paying attention?''

''So why can't Moriah have the option of Pikachu?''

''Because she's not late. Thought with all this interrupting, I dare say she is now!''

Isabelle shook her head. ''I don't get this. What's the allure?''

''The allure? The allure of Pokèmon? You don't get it?''

''Nope. It's confusing. Clary gifted Max the game when we went to Game Stop and I haven't seen him since.''

The mention of Clary made something in Simon tighten. He tried to not to think of her writhing in pain while asleep in the hospital wing, and of Jace looking on in worry. He nodded in certainty. ''Good. He's thirteen now. He's behind.''

''He's late? Does that mean he gets a Pikachu?''

Simon breathed deeply. Before they could argue further, Moriah let out a gurgle. Both of them looked to her to see she had picked up all three toys and was holding them against her.

Isabelle smirked. ''She picked all three. Is that allowed?'' She paused as she noticed his face. ''Simon?''

Simon put a hand to his heart. ''A Pokèmon Master!'' He said with great emotion. He pulled Moriah back into his lap. ''You gotta catch em' all, don't you? That's your biggest wish, huh?''

''Oh, brother.'' Isabelle watched as Simon stood up with Moriah in his arms. ''Where are you going?''

''You were right. We have to get more plushies.''

''You are not ordering 804 more stuffed animals.''

''Come, Moriah,'' Simon said with authority. ''If we hurry, I'm sure we can find an Amazon deal with same day delivery.''

''Simon-''

''Where's that Persuasion rune Clary made a while ago? With that I'll bet we can turn that same day delivery into same hour delivery.''

''Simon-''

''Fetch me a credit card!''

''Simon Lewis Lovelace-''

Years as a werewolf had taught Luke something that he had never learned as a Shadowhunter: trust your instincts. Of course Shadowhunters were told the same, but their instincts were meant to be based off of their core beliefs and logical conclusions. The fact of the matter was, sometimes for no reason whatsoever, you had a feeling of dread. And this dread should be trusted, because more often than not it was the only warning you would get before the bottom fell out.

Luke leaned on his knees. But the bottom of what?

He sat outside the Infirmary door, waiting for Jocelyn. She had been sitting by Clary's bedside ever since their arrival, and had only went to get a drink of some sort. At least, that is what she claimed. Luke knew her long enough to know sometimes she just needed to disappear for a while, be by herself and collect her thoughts. Goodness knew life had handed her plenty of thoughts to collect.

His ears pricked as he heard voices down the hall. ''Let's go tell your father I made you into a gamer,'' he heard Simon say. ''I'm sure he'll be thrilled.''

''Over the moon, I imagine,'' Isabelle replied dryly.

Footsteps were coming towards him, one set much quieter and faster then the others. Luke turned his head and there at the end of the hall was Moriah Cèline. She stopped running at the sight of him.

Luke couldn't help the small smile on his face as he noticed her. There could only be a few sights more adorable than a child's blank little face staring whilst clutching three large stuffed animals in their arms.

Simon and Isabelle came up behind her. ''Oh, hey,'' Simon greeted him. ''Where's Jocelyn?''

''Went for a walk,'' Luke answered simply.

Isabelle looked concerned. ''Do you know Jonathan was here earlier?''

No, Luke thought to himself. ''Is he still here?''

''I don't know.'' Isabelle looked thoughtful. ''People have kind of being traipsing in and out.''

''Like those officials?''

She scrunched up her face. ''Are they still here?'' Luke nodded. ''Great. I suppose I better make sure Jonathan left. No need for things to get even more unpleasant…''

She walked away, her long hair swishing behind her. Simon watched her go before urging Moriah forward. ''C'mon, let's go find Jace.''

Moriah was still eyeing Luke, her black eyed gaze never wavering. She was such a contradiction, Luke realized. Everything about her seemed so small and innocent and yet those eyes made you go cold in your heart.

She walked forward slowly, being sure to give Luke a wide berth. He got a closer look at the toys in her hands. ''Aren't those the ones you and Clary would always play with?''

''Some of many,'' Simon replied.

''Is that the game where you have to conquer them all or something?''

''To put it simply, yes.''

''What are you supposed become? Like, kings or something?''

Simon gave a dramatic sigh. ''You try to become masters. You are just as bad as Isabelle.''

Luke shrugged apologetically. He looked back at Moriah, who was still eyeing him warily from behind her toys. He remembered all the times he took Simon and Clary to the store, telling them they could each buy something. ''You can't pick just one either?'' he asked her.

''Nope,'' Simon answered for her. ''She's just like Clary.''

''Yeah.'' Luke studied the little girl's face. She blinked her black eyes at him. ''Just like Clary.''

Clary ran, clutching Celeste's hand as she led the way through the twisty forest paths. Fairies were in pursuit of them, no doubt Renage at the front. She tried to fo faster, to run without focusing on the pain from her half healed wound. She couldn't stop. She had to keep going. She couldn't let them catch her again…

This is not real, she reminded herself. I got away. This is not real.

Celeste turned to her. ''I'm going to lead them away.''

Clary shook her head. ''You can't-''

''You can't run anymore.'' Celeste gestured down the path. ''There is a cave there. Hide in it. When it's safe, follow the path to Naranth. Building in the middle of the block. Apartment 23.''

Clary wanted to sob. ''I can't-''

''You have to.'' With that simple summary, Celeste kissed her forehead. ''I'll see you later.''

She dashed off, leaving Clary to stumble to the cave. She did so, her ears straining for the sounds of a fight. Please don't die, Celeste. Please don't die.

She made it to the cave and leaned against the rock wall, gasping for breath. The sounds of a fight reached her ears. Celeste. please. Celeste, please.

The sounds got louder. Swords and blades and magic all clashing. She was terribly outnumbered. How could she survive? Celeste.

A sound so loud seemed to make the earth quake. A scream range out. Clary fell to her knees and clasped her hands over her ears. This wasn't right. This is not what happened.

''This is fake!'' she yelled over the noise. The fighting got louder. ''Celeste is alive! I didn't kill her!''

''Yet,'' Aster corrected her.

The noise died down. Clary looked up from her knees and saw she was still in the cave. However…

''No.'' She got up and raced across to the other side. She sat down again and stared down at the figure on the floor. ''Jace? Jace!''

He didn't move. His eyes were open, and blood was spread on his shirt and in his hair. ''No, no, no.''

''It's really how it should be,'' Aster said. ''Angels are such hypocrites, don't you think? Letting you bring back someone who was dead. It was wrong.''

''Shut up!"' Clary covered her face with her hands. ''Shut up, shut up, shut up.''

''They should all be dead, now that I think about it. I mean, Magnus and your parents in Hell, Max by your brother, your brother by you, Alec by that Greater Demon, Simon as a vampire. I suppose Isabelle could still be alive, but after losing her entire family to you, I wouldn't think she'd want to be.''

''Shut up!''

''Max and Rafe would be too, or maybe not. I don't know. What was their living situation like before they were adopted?''

''I will kill you again, Aster. I swear to god!''

''And now, your dear little Moriah. You can't honestly think she will live long?''

Another body appeared next to Jace. Same hair color spattered with blood. Her perfect, tiny face all busied. Her black eyes were truly devoid of life now.

Clary recoiled in horror. There was no breath inside of her to scream.

Fern thought she was very clever.

She thought she was very clever when she predicted how Clary would react to Aster's offer, and thought she was very clever when she managed to slip away from the buildings and hide out in the mundane world. One had to be clever in her line of work. Missteps led to ending up like Aster.

She would've preferred to go someplace far away to hide, but that would attract attention. The Underworld had spies everywhere. And while news of all that had occurred with their experiments might not have spread to every ear, suspicion would be raised if she and May had suddenly upped and left.

So the Mundane state of New York it was then. They weren't too far outside the city. They would make do in the quiet rental home. As soon as it was safe to leave, they would, and no doubt this home would be rented again and again. No way was it possible for any Underworld creature to know for certain they had been here.

At least, that was what Fern thought.

She froze in the living room, surprise getting the better of her at seeing the three extra people there. ''I tried to call you,'' May offered from where she was sat on a chair. The youngest of the people was standing next to her, his sword casually in his grip. ''But you never seem to answer when it's important.''

Fern tossed her purse down on the side table. ''A shadowhunter, the self proclaimed Demon King, and her-'' she pointed disgustedly at Celeste. ''- are hardly important.''

''Not a nice thing to say to your guests,'' Jonathan Morgenstern said.

''You are not my guests.''

''Good to hear. Now I will not have to be polite.''

''This is polite?'' May asked, gesturing to the boy. He raised his sword a little in warning.

''What do you want?'' Fern questioned. Better to just cut to the chase. She didn't like her's and May's chances of escaping from Jonathan Christopher and the mad girl.

Jonathan's green eyes sparkled. Fern decided it had suited him better to have them black. ''What did Aster do to Clary?''

Fern shrugged. ''How should I know?''

''They already know we were there,'' May interjected.

''You were. But I-''

''You were too,'' the young Shadowhunter cut in. ''She already gave you up.''

Fern glared at May. ''Nice going.''

May spread her hands. ''I'm done with this. What have we gotten out of it?''

''Nothing if you give up now.''

''Let's just leave.''

''You can't just leave the Underworld! Not with your head intact!''

''You won't leave here with your head intact if you don't answer my questions,'' Jonathan informed them.

Fern waved a hand. ''Don't interpret. We're busy.''

''Push your sword in a little there, Max.''

The Shadowhunter, Max, obeyed. May retreated further into her chair. ''Watch it. That's sharp.''

''I know.'' Max sounded incredibly happy about this.

Fern sighed in annoyance. ''How should I know what Aster did to her? When I left, he was set on negotiating with her.''

''You knew she'd never agree,'' Celeste stated.

''How do you know? You don't know what he offered.''

''She killed him. Whatever the offer, you knew she wouldn't accept, which meant Aster had to have known, and therefore he had to be prepared for that possibility.''

Fern shrugged. ''Doesn't mean he shared his plan with me.''

Celeste cocked her head to the side. ''True.'' She turned to Jonathan. ''What do you think?''

Fern didn't so much as hear the answer as felt it. In the blink of an eye she was against the wall, pinned there by Jonathan Morgenstern's hand. His fingers were wrapped around her neck, his other hand empty. Fern had no doubt he didn't need weapons to kill her.

''I think,'' Jonathan purred. ''That whatever creatures you are afraid of in the Underworld have nothing on me.''

Despite her precarious position, Fern laughed. ''You don't know the Underworld then. I have seen Greater Demons that would make the entire Clave turn and flee.''

Jonathan leaned in close to her, his voice like a knife blade tracing down her spine. ''Who do you think summons them?''

A pain jolted through her heart. A memory surfaced in her mind, so long ago she had almost forgotten. A bustling bar with creatures of all kinds coming and going. In an instant it was gone. The only glimpse of the perpetrator she got was a wisp of white hair disappearing around a corner.

Fern swallowed hard. She knew when she was beat. ''If you promise to leave us alone,'' she said carefully, ''and describe Clary's symptoms, I believe I can find something that might help.''

''I do hope so,'' Jonathan said amicably. ''For your sake.''

He let her go. With a worrisome look at May, Fern went over to a shelf.

Clary fled down the corridors of the cave, trying to get away from the horrible sight and the sound of Aster's horrible voice. But it followed her wherever she went, speaking to her from somewhere she couldn't see. And the sight of Jace's and Moriah's bodies- she would be lucky if she could ever close her eyes again without seeing them.

Faster she ran, her heart pounding and her feet aching. She stopped when she collided with a wall. She hit a dead end. She couldn't go further.

''We always have to face the music eventually,'' Aster said. ''Can't hide and run forever. Eventually, fate must take the stage.''

Wind started whipping around her, the cave floor melting away. Clary pressed her face against the wall. No. She would not see another ghastly sight. She would not witness another death. She would live.

The floor melted away, but Clary was surprised to see another cave. She looked back the way she had come and saw rocks blocking the way. Two witch lights were illuminating the cave, laying on the stone floor.

Cèline Herondale looked at the wall. ''No.'' She turned to the side. ''You have to break it.''

''How?'' demanded her companion. Clary's mouth opened at the sight of her. She knew that red hair and slim build.

''Mom?''

''Do you know how many rocks are there?'' Jocelyn continued, clearly not being able to hear Clary. ''We move any one of them the others will collapse on us.''

Cèline looked back to the wall. ''If you can just break it, we can jump down.''

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. '' Sure, let's not get crushed to death but rather break our necks. Much better plan.''

''I can make the jump.''

''No, Cèline, you can't.''

''Do you want to die?'' Cèline went over to her. ''Because if we don't do something, that's what will happen.''

''What do you want me to do?'' Jocelyn waved her stele around. ''There is no rune powerful enough that-''

''Then make one!''

''I can't just-''

''Yes you can!'' Cèline grabbed her arms. ''You can because if you don't, you will die. You will die here, alone, miles away from your child and husband. Is that what you want? To die?''

Clary could see the earnestness is Cèline's face, and the terror in her mother's. ''You're special, Jocelyn,'' Cèline went on. ''Your runes, they're- they're different. I know it. You can do this.''

Jocelyn shook her head. ''I can't.''

''God!'' Cèline threw her head back in exasperation. ''For once in your life you fucking Morgenstern, will you stop thinking and just do it?''

She let go of Jocelyn, and for a moment Jocelyn just stood there. Then she looked to the wall.

Clary watched as her mother took slow steps forward. She reached the wall and stared at it. With a trembling hand she rose her stele.

Harsh lines. Quick lines. Hesitation and then darting back up to the starting point. Jocelyn drew, fighting her fear as she did so. It was different from the way Clary drew. It was slower. It was…darker.

The wall crumbled. Cèline had to pull Jocelyn back to get her out of harm's way. Daylight shone in. ''You did it!'' She laughed.

''I did.'' Jocelyn's voice sounded tight.

Cèline approached the entrance. She cast her glance around, a gleam in her eye that made it all too apparent she was Jace's mother. ''Oh, yes. This I can do.''

''Cèline, no!''

But she didn't listen. Clary watched as Cèline, with amazing speed and accuracy, managed to jump from the ledge and swing herself over to another one.

Jocelyn watched as well. Her face was total devoid of color. She looked to her hands.

The scene changed again. It was late, the study lit only by a few lamps. Jocelyn stared at her husband in anger. ''What did you do to her?''

Valentine frowned. ''What are you talking about?''

''Something's wrong with her. What did you do to her?''

''Nothing's wrong with her. For the first time since I've known her she seems perfectly happy. What are you talking about?''

''She's not just happy. She's like- high. Did you see the way she fought?''

''So?''

'' 'So'?''

''I believe that is what I said.''

''You did something to her. You- you gave her something. Something like you gave me.''

Valentine gave a sigh. ''Not this again.''

''You changed her. You- you ruined her.''

''I did not 'ruin' anything.'' He made to walk away. Jocelyn grabbed his arm.

''I won't let you turn her child into a monster like you turned mine.''

Valentine's eyes flashed. He looked from her grip to her eyes. ''If I 'ruined' Cèline as you say, then you might ask yourself, are you too, ruined?''

Clary opened her eyes with a start. She was back in the cavern, the wind and Aster's laughter still swirling around her. Only she didn't feel cold. For suddenly, she understood.

She got to her feet carefully. The corner of her mouth twitched as she turned around, facing the empty corridor. ''You're stupid!'' she shouted. ''You are one goddamn stupid son of a bitch!''

''Really?'' He appeared in front of her, his eyes sparkling in mirth. The wind picked up. ''Than you cannot be very smart at all, seeing as I am the one who has bested you.''

Clary laughed. ''No, you really haven't.''

Aster's smile didn't waver. ''What is so funny?''

Clary grinned as she thought over her words. ''I'm special. Jace is special. Even Jonathan is. Or, was. But see, the thing is, my mom is too. She can draw runes almost like I can, because of the Angel blood she had while she was pregnant. And Cèline started getting powers almost like Jace because of the same thing. But what my mom never mentioned- either because she didn't know or was just afraid- was that she had powers when she had Jonathan too.''

''So your family is even more freakish than you knew.'' Aster spread his hands. ''Hardly the time to be laughing now.''

''She got powers from the demon blood,'' Clary went on. ''Moriah has demon blood.'' She paused. ''I have demon blood.''

Aster's smirk was replaced with a studious frown. ''Interesting theory,'' he mused. ''And of course, entirely unfounded. You have no powers.''

Clary's grin went wider. She leaned forward. ''Are you sure about that?''

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