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Disclaimer: I own Moriah and Celeste. Nothing else.
Chapter 11: Conversations
The dimming light made the shadows a perfect hiding place. In this time of night, it was easy to run along the top floors of the tall buildings, taking cover under awnings and trees to spy on the people below. Today, Vivian had only one target.
They had been on their way to a restaurant she knew, but had spent the last couple minutes half a block away from their destination, hesitating. Still in the shadows, she perched herself on a window ledge a few stories above them, ears pricked for conversation.
'' '…but the road was closed and therefore the travels couldn't go so they just went home','' a red hair girl who could only be the infamous rune maker, Clary Fray, said, seemingly concluding a tale.
The golden boy next to her, Shadowhunter Jace Herondale, nodded slowly. ''Nice parable.''
''Thank you.''
''Didn't really help with making this any easier.''
''It really didn't.''
''Why'd you think it would?''
''No idea.'' Clary sighed. ''This is going to go horribly, isn't it?''
''Not necessarily.'' Jace gestured to the little girl's hand he was holding. ''Her eyes are glamoured and the public setting keeps fighting to a minimum.''
Clary scoffed. ''Wow. You clearly don't know of the Carnival Disaster of '99.''
''What happened?''
''World War III nearly started, cotton candy was almost banned. Simon still can't go on Ferris Wheels.''
''Okay, now that sounds like a good story.''
Vivian watched as the two teenagers hesitated more. They began talking again, lowering their voices so even with her keen hearing Vivian couldn't hear. Well, she wasn't interested in their conversation anyway, but in something else.
As limber as a cat, Vivian scaled down another balcony of the building she was on. She peered down at the family of three below, ignoring the teens talking and focusing on the chilling quiet of the little girl in-between them.
So you're the thing that's got the Clave all in knots.
At first glance, the child certainly didn't seem frightening. A young toddler, so small she looked like she started walking yesterday, all white and blonde. A scar on the right side of her face that mundanes could easily pass off as being an unfortunate mishap. Her eyes were a sparkling brown, but even if she hadn't just overheard the Shadowhunters' conversation, Vivian would know they were glamoured. The little demon child's eyes were the biggest topic in Downworld at the moment.
Vivian stared at the child, trying to let her gaze relax. Maybe she could always spot a glamour, but peeling them back was always tough. She waiting for that aha! moment, but it didn't come. She resisted the urge to stamp her foot when the family finally started walking away. Oh, come on.
Vivian watched them approach the corner. But before they turned, the little girl, her hand still holding her father's, suddenly stiffened. Her head snapped in the direction of Vivian up on the balcony. Vivian had no doubt the little girl saw her. And Vivian was finally successful in seeing her.
Pure, pure black eyes. No differing pupil and iris, just two pools of black in an otherwise angelic face. And people say vampires are damned.
''Moriah?'' Jace Herondale paused to look at the girl. ''What's wrong?''
Vivian wasted no time hiding herself further from the view of the street. It had been risky trailing two Shadowhunters - especially these Shadowhunter's- and it was only because they were too preoccupied and she had stuck to the shadows that Vivian hadn't been spotted so far. She didn't want to think of the consequences of getting caught now if the demon child pointed her out.
A few moments passed before Vivian dared look over the edge again. She was just in time to see the family of three round the corner and walk out of sight, the little girl now being carried by her father.
Hmm, lucky break. Vivian let out a breath of relief. It was replaced with a smile of glee. That child was terrifying. Certainly everyone in the Shadow World who had the misfortune of seeing that thing would agree. There was only one outcome of the Clave's upcoming Inquest. Vivian couldn't wait to share her news…
…
''You did what?'' Maia demanded, dropping the paperwork she had in her lap and staring at the young vampire in her office doorway.
''I saw the girl,'' Vivian declared. She bounced on her heels, as if happy about this. ''You'll be pleased to know she is absolutely not normal.''
''Ugh.'' Maia ran her hands through her hair, resisting the urge to throw herself into the mountains of paperwork she was sitting around on the floor. God, did Luke have no organization system when he was pack leader? ''How could you do that, Vivian? Why?''
''What do you mean, why?'' Vivian crossed her arms in the doorway. ''I did it to help you. And Lily. You two seem on the fence about this issue.''
''Lily authorized this?''
Vivan seemed suddenly very interested in the hem of her black dress. ''Well, not exactly. But it's not exactly like I did anything wrong.''
Maia threw her hands in the air. '' 'Not exactly like you did anything wrong'? Vivian, you are interfering in a Council matter! The matter of that child is to be decided by the Council Representatives and the Clave!''
''Really?'' Vivian leaned forward eagerly. ''So the Council is involved?''
Maia bit her tongue in punishment at herself. She sighed deeply. ''Just- go. Go and keep your mouth shut.''
''About what?''
''Vivian, don't make me call Lily on you.''
Vivian scrunched up her face. ''Fine.'' She flicked some of her long, very curly hair over her shoulder. ''Just trying to help a girl out.''
Maia decided it best to keep her smart reply to herself. Vivian traipsed out, and it wasn't until she heard the door down the hall close that Maia allowed a groan of frustration to escape her. What the hell am I going to do?
The news of the child had been spinning in Downworld since Clary's and Jace's return from the Fairy Realms and that disastrous questioning by Mortal Sword. Rumors of all kinds had been spreading, until the child's return, that is. Now Maia had the unfortunate knowledge that the tales being told were all true.
Jace's and Clary's baby was a demon. A cold, cold, black eyed demon. Another Jonathan Christopher, for all they knew.
An Inquest was being held in Idris, which of course had to be had. But what caused Maia anxiety- and what led to Vivian's and other Downworlders' curiosity- was whether or not the new Downworld Council would be involved.
On the one hand, a demon child was certainly a matter that effected all of Downworld. On the other hand, the child was born of Shadowhunter parents, which only affected the Clave. On the other hand, the child was Clary's and Jace's child. Could Maia really not insist to be there, by their side?
Their side- their side of keeping their child. Their demon child. Their evil child.
How can I be on their side when their side is…wrong?
…
Luke closed the apartment door after him and Jocelyn. There was an unease feeling in him, despite his genuine happiness at how the evening had gone.
They had had dinner, him, Clary, Jace, Jocelyn, and Moriah. Like a perfectly common mundane family. It was weird. It was strange. It was tense at times. But it was also…nice. It was something they could work on, something to say how things had been didn't have to be how they continued.
Luke could tell how hard Jocelyn and Clary had been trying, and even Jace, keeping his snark in check. And quiet, quiet Moriah stared at them all, sometimes looking at her parents in bewilderment. Glamoured eyes or not, she had been the perfect picture of a well behaved toddler.
Luke went in after Jocelyn. He watched her put her purse on the kitchen island. ''You okay?''
''Hmm?'' She looked at him, as if only just remembering he was there. ''Yeah. Fine.''
Luke knew the look on her face. The one of quietness, of restraint and unease. The one that said her thoughts were going a million miles a minute and she was busy thinking them all over. ''You sure?''
''Yeah,'' she assured him with a smile. She kissed his cheek. ''I'm going to wash up, okay?''
He nodded, watching her disappear down the hall. It would take time, both for Jocelyn to talk about this and for them to be completely without unease, but Luke was sure they could do it. They had to.
He watched as his daughter ignored Jocelyn's warning and sat up. ''Jace.''
In the blink of an eye Jace was up and next to her. Clary clung to his shirt, looking on the verge of panic. ''I'm here, Clary. I'm right here.''
Clary was shaking. ''M-Moriah?''
''She's good. She's with Maryse now.''
''Good.'' It was only after this confirmation that Clary allowed herself to relax again.
Whether they liked it or not, Moriah was Clary's baby. And whether they liked it or not- which, in all honesty, Luke did not- she had demon blood. But Clary didn't care. And if Clary didn't care then as her father it was Luke's duty to be on her side. And her side was Moriah's side. He would not condemn Moriah without giving her any sort of chance.
Can you afford not to? Came that old thought again. Images of Jonathan's black eyes snapping at him, of him standing so tauntingly in front of them all went through his head. Luke clenched his fists and forced the thoughts down.
…
Jocelyn tossed her sweater into the laundry basket. She clung to the bathroom counter, closing her eyes and forcing herself to breathe. You are not in danger. Stop it. Stop it.
She turned on the sink and ran cold, cold water on her hands and splashed her face. She looked herself in the mirror, but all she could see was the Lightwood Manor dining room.
Jocelyn leaned against the doorframe, her nails digging into her forearms. She watched Maryse and Robert set the table, Michael and Eliza helping. Helping, being Michael would try and swipe some food and while Maryse was scolding him, Eliza would snatch some from the plate she was carrying.
Laughter from the living room made her turn her head. ''Alec, stop!'' Cèline said, laughing as the little boy came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her neck. ''I don't have it!''
''Yes, you do!'' Little Aline challenged from next to Cèline on the floor. ''You hid the car behind your back!''
Cèline grabbed Alec and brought him forward, tumbling onto her lap. He spread his hands. ''It's lost.''
''See?'' Céline put Alec upright on his feet again. ''I have a witness.''
''A witness for what?'' Stephen asked, walking past Jocelyn to go in the living room.
''I have been unjustly accused.''
''She hid the car,'' Jonathan Wayland informed Stephen.
''A whole car?''
''Yeah!''
''What was it, a minivan? A truck?''
The little boy laughed. ''No! A toy car!''
''So a minivan?''
''She put it up her sleeve and now it's gone,'' Aline interjected.
Stephen nodded solemnly. ''Thieves don't get food,'' he told Cèline.
''I didn't take it,'' Cèline replied.
''Don't believe her, children. Remember, liars are horrible.'' He walked away, passing Jonathan Wayland. Jocelyn watched Stephen place something on his head.
Jonathan Wayland sprang up. ''Hey!'' He said, catching the toy. ''You had the car!''
''Me?'' Stephen feigned innocence. ''What are you talking about? I wasn't even in the room!''
''You were in on it!'' Jonathan Wayland pointed to them both. ''You're both liars!''
''Michael!'' Cèline called. ''Your son just called me a liar!''
''Gave yourself away?'' Michael replied from the dinning room.
The chatter and laughter and accusations flew as the playing went on. Jocelyn wanted to smile at the happiness of her friends, but her eyes kept going to the staircase, where her own child was perched.
He had, as always, his thick blue dictionary with him, but for once he wasn't reading it. He had it on his lap and leaned on it, watching the scene in the living room just as she was. He looked at her and stared, his vacant look and eyes for once asking something clearly, the same thing she was asking herself. 'Why aren't we like that?'
Jocelyn wished she had the answer. Or really, wished the answer wasn't what she knew it to be.
Jocelyn turned the running water off with force. She hated herself and she wanted to stop hating herself. Moriah was not Jonathan. Clary was not her. Clary's life would not turn out like her's, and she would not feel the way Jocelyn had felt. Clary would not be trapped, would not feel guilty, would not be guilty…
Jocelyn yanked her hair out of her ponytail with more force than necessary. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
…
Clary sat on the library window sill, her head against the window pane. She looked down at the busy city below. Plenty of people still out and about even in the rain, going about their lives with mild concerns such as what to have for dinner or what to do on the weekend. They didn't have to prepare a defense for why their government shouldn't imprison their child.
Clarissa Fray, pity party of one.
Clary sighed. She shook herself, bringing her attention back to the book on her lap. She'd been staring at the same page for well over an hour now. Part of her wanted to admit defeat and put it aside, but it wasn't like there was much else she could do. Nearly three weeks later and she still felt weak and achy from whatever poison she'd had.
Her recovery, the impending Inquest, Renage, and dinner with her parents last night. There were too many things on her mind. She stubbornly brought the book closer to her face, her finger on the words as she read to force concentration.
''Hmmm.''
Clary looked to the floor. Moriah was on her knees amidst pieces of an old wooden puzzle game of Max's. She stared at Clary, blinking slowly, clearly conveying that this toy did not appeal to her anymore. Nothing really did, Clary realized, aside from the Pokémon toys and her little bunny.
''Done already?'' Clary asked her. Moriah tilted her head. ''Do you want to get your other toys?''
Moriah gave a grunt, but whether it was on of agreement or not Clary couldn't tell.
Moriah reached for the window seat and pulled herself up on her feet. She stumbled slightly, and Clary grabbed her arm to steady her. Nearly three weeks back and still Moriah wasn't sleeping great. Jace said it was improvement from literally not at all, but by the dark circles under her little girl's eyes, Clary considered it still, very bad.
Moriah whined and tugged Clary's sleeve. ''You can come up,'' Clary assured her.
Moriah immediately began pulling herself up, struggling to grip onto the back of the cushion and push off the wall with her legs. Clary smiled at how she didn't seem at all perturbed by the height difference, and leaned over to help her up.
Successfully up, Moriah sat back on her heels beside Clary, watching her. Clary tugged one of her curls. ''What is it? Do you want something?''
Moriah just stared at her. Clary dropped her hand and leaned against the wall again, looking back at her book. She managed to read a paragraph before Moriah came closer and tugged her arm. ''Moriah.''
She whined and tugged harder. Clary put her book back in her lap and Moriah pushed it aside, climbing on her. ''Hey, careful.''
''Hmmm,'' Moriah said, making herself comfortable. She wrapped her arms around Clary's neck and buried her face in her shoulder. ''Hmmm.''
Clary gave a sigh. She rang her hand through Moriah's hair. ''I wish you'd sleep,'' she muttered to her. Moriah tightened her grip. ''You'd feel better.''
They sat quietly for a few minutes, Clary rocking slightly. She debated getting up and going to their room on the off chance Moriah did fall asleep so she could lay her down. She decided against it, figuring it wouldn't be worth the chance of Moriah getting up again. Since she was now comfortable on Clary's lap, and Clary still had nothing else to do, she tugged her book next to her so she could try and read while holding Moriah.
She leaned forward a little to turn the page. Moriah loosened her grip in surprise as she did so. ''Sorry,'' Clary apologized for disturbing her. She leaned back again.
''Mommy.''
Clary froze. She once again turned away from her book and stared at her daughter. ''What?''
Moriah fidgeted, trying to cling to Clary again. Clary put her hands on her arms in order to look her in the face. ''Did- did you just speak?''
Moriah whined in frustration. ''Mommy.''
Too shocked to stop her, Clary let her arms go and Moriah took the opportunity to wrap her arms around her neck again, clinging to her as tight as possible. Clary barely registered her cold temperature.
Mommy.
She spoke. Her little girl spoke. Her voice was so soft, so little girlish. So perfect.
Clary hugged her small body and kissed her cheek. She cupped her face in her hands to look at her again, leaning her forehead against her's. ''I love you.''
…
Maia sat back on the couch in Magnus' and Alec's loft. It was surprisingly sparse of toys this time, a clear sign Rafe and Max were at an age where they could be expected to put their toys away. She frowned as she felt something hard on her back, and reached behind her to pull out a Rubik's cube from the couch cushions. ''Fun.''
She fiddled with it idly while she waited for Magnus and Alec to emerge from putting the kids to bed. The front door opened and in walked Lily without preamble. ''Ah, Ms. Spy,'' she greeted Maia in a bad impersonation of some accent.
Maia frowned. ''What does that mean?''
''Vivian tells me you and her had a 'chat'.'' Lily threw herself down on the chair opposite Maia. ''You were looking for info.''
''Vivian came to me with info. I didn't request it,'' Maia informed her. ''How do you know about that anyway?''
''Nothing happens in my clan that I don't know about.''
''She went to get info without you knowing about it.''
''Eh.'' Lily shifted uncomfortably. ''What am I sitting on?''
Footsteps came from down the hallway and Magnus entered. ''Alec will be out in a minute,'' he announced. ''Oh, Lily, you're here.'' He frowned. ''What are you doing?''
Lily managed to free the toy that had been shoved in between the chair cushions. She straightened up. ''Playing,'' she said, holding up the teddy bear she found. She waved it's paw at Magnus.
''Max likes to put things in the strangest of places,'' Magnus explained.
''So, what's on the agenda tonight?'' Maia asked, though she feared she knew the answer. Her heart sank a little as Magnus spoke, quite grimly.
''It's about the upcoming Inquest.''
''Fun,'' Lily said, sitting back down. She was still holding the teddy bear. ''I suppose we should decide if we want a say?''
''We need a say.''
''Do we?'' Lily challenged. ''I mean, this is a Shadowhunter matter.''
''The child has demon blood. It involves all of Downworld.''
''I don't want a Shadowhunter stomping in and telling vampires what to do with their children. Why should we do that to Shadowhunters?''
''Whose doing what to Shadowhunters?'' Alec asked as he entered. He sat down in the chair beside Lily's.
''Lily thinks the Council shouldn't get involved in Moriah's Inquest,'' Maia caught him up.
''Now, I didn't say that.''
''You kinda did,'' Magnus corrected her.
''No,'' Lily insisted. ''I just don't want to get in a situation that could come back to bite us later.''
''What do you mean?'' Alec asked.
''I know she's your parabati's daughter,'' Lily said. ''But she has demon blood. Now, no one can say she's going to turn out like Jonathan Morgenstern- and even if she does, they let him off, didn't they?- but guys.'' She looked at them all sadly. ''Do you really see any other outcome for this Inquest?''
They were all quiet for a moment. ''I can't let them-'' Alec began.
''I know. But from a Council's viewpoint, I think getting Downworld involved in this might not be best for Downworld.''
''So you are against?'' Maia asked.
''I-'' Lily began, but gave up. She made the toy she was holding shrug at her.
Magnus heaved a sigh. ''I understand that, Lily. But I don't think Downworld can afford not to get involved.''
''What do you mean?'' Maia asked.
Magnus gestured at them all. ''Shadowhunters have angel blood. They've used this time and time again to make themselves think they are superior to all of Downworld, because Downworlders have demon blood.''
Maia noticed Alec looking a little shameful. ''That's why the Council,'' he said. ''To help fix that.''
''I know. But regardless of any number of councils, the whole point of this Inquest is because Moriah has demon blood. If the Inquest reveals grounds of imprisonment, it will be because of her demon blood.''
''So, you're saying,'' Maia began thoughtfully, ''that this Inquest is on the premise that demon blood is bad-''
''-And if it leads to a full on Trial, and Moriah gets convicted, it will further that premise,'' Magnus concluded.
''So, you're saying Downworld Council has to be involved, and not only that, has to ensure the Inquest reveals no further grounds, because if it does, it will essentially be stating 'demon blood is bad'?'' Alec summed in confusion.
Lily spread the paws of the teddy bear. ''Easy as cake!''
''But the child,'' Maia said. ''Moriah, doesn't just have 'demon blood', right? It's demon demon blood, like Jonathan Morgenstern had Lilith's blood. We are talking demons from Hell, not Downworld.''
Lily frowned. ''Is your argument seriously 'not all demon blood'?''
''It can't be,'' Magnus warned. ''Because the Clave does not operate like that.''
Maia bit her lip. ''Lily's point still stands,'' she said. ''Is it really realistic to think we can get away with Moriah not being convicted?'' She looked from Magnus to Alec and could see the worry in both of them. But was she imaging it, or did Alec also look slightly…relieved at the thought?
''If Downworld Council is involved,'' Alec said, his expression changing before Maia had the chance to decipher it, ''at least it can't be said that it's on the grounds of demon blood Moriah could get…convicted on.''
Magnus shook his head. ''A sunny outlook, but more likely the Council will just look like hypocrites to the people who were against the idea.''
''Can't please everyone,'' Lily said briskly. ''Let's vote; all in favor of gracing Idris with our presences?'' She raised the toy bear's right paw.
Magnus raised his hand, and Alec did as well. Maia, dizzy at the thought of what she would have to do and say at the time of judgement, did as well.
…
Jace smirked as Moriah looked over her stuffed animals on the floor. ''She really spoke?'' he asked Clary, who was sitting on the bed next to him.
She nodded happily. ''She really did.''
Jace felt his grin go wider. Moriah spoke. She would one day talk and not just whine and grunt. She'd be okay.
Clary leaned against him, slipping her hand into his. ''She'll probably say your name next.''
And just like that, something in Jace tightened. This horrible worry rose up in him. Clary was Moriah's mother, and he was her…father.
Father was gentle when he picked his son up to carry him inside for the night. He was gentle when he asked what his son would like to do for his birthday. He himself almost broke out laughing when his little boy stoically asked to bath in pasta, and almost again as he filled the tub.
But he was not gentle when his son messed up in training. He was not gentle when he once dared ask about his mother. He was not gentle with the falcon he had grown to love. Father explained he couldn't afford to be- to be a warrior was life or death, and you could not afford to mess up. That might be correct.
But it had not been correct to invade Idris. It had not been correct to make the boy think his first real love was his sister. And it had not been correct to lie to his son about having died, or to betray him and kill him.
''I can't be called father.''
Clary turned to him in surprise. ''What?''
Jace felt a rush of embarrassment for saying it aloud. ''I can't be called father,'' he repeated. ''I just can't.''
''Why-''
''She can't call me what I called him.''
Understanding dawned on Clary's face, along with sympathy. ''Jace, come on…''
''I don't want to be called that,'' he insisted. ''I can't be called that, okay?''
She bit her lip. She shrugged. ''Okay.'' Silence lapsed over them. Jace fought down the waves of anger at himself. He was being stupid, irrational. Weakling.
''She has to call you something,'' Clary said softly.
''I know.''
''Just Jace?'' she continued. ''Go modern?''
''Yeah, no.''
''Maybe Mr. Jace?''
He scoffed. ''You've made your point.''
''Mr. Herondale?''
''50 bucks if you stop.''
' 'That Guy'.''
Jace rolled his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. ''Christ.''
''No way, that would be wrong.''
Jace laughed. He look at her green eyes and braided hair and sarcastic face before pulling her close. ''You… are very annoying.''
Clary smiled her adorable smile, the one that made something inside him quiver. ''I do try.'' He kissed her forehead, and she tucked her head under his chin. She whispered to him something so quiet, he almost missed it. ''You'll never be him.''
Jace decided not to reply. He clutched Clary's hand tighter and turned slightly to look at Moriah. She was still sitting among her toys, right now holding that old rag bunny Clary had made for her. She noticed him looking at her and met his gaze. Her mouth twitched in the corner. Almost a smile.
Jace's chest felt tight. I will never hurt you. May lightning strike me down before I let you get hurt again.
…
Robert was beginning to hate Jia's office. He was tired of meeting in here to argue about why they couldn't drag two sick teenagers and their traumatized daughter to Idris and force them to testify about their imprisonment, no matter how much Geoffrey Whitesnake and other Shadowhunters like him wanted to.
But it had been three weeks since Clary woke up, and she seemed for the most part better. And now, the Downworld Council had finally given word about being involved in the proceedings.
''To be expected, I suppose,'' Geoffrey said bitterly upon reading the statement. He wasn't as bitter as Robert would have thought he'd be. ''Especially the werewolves. They took the destruction of the Praetor Lupus rather personally, after all.''
Robert clenched his fists at another subtle parallel he was drawing between Moriah and Jonathan. ''Yes,'' Jia said absently, reading the statement through again. Robert wondered why she was tenser than usual. ''I suppose we can't delay any longer.''
''Nor should we want to,'' Geoffrey said, a little too smugly to be ignored.
Jia placed the paper down on her desk. She looked to Robert. ''You will bring your family to Idris by the end of the week,'' she said. ''The Inquest will begin Monday morning.''
Robert nodded understanding. ''I'll send word to Maryse via fire message tonight.''
Jia raised an eyebrow. ''You don't intend to go back yourself?''
''No reason for it.''
Jia bit her lip. She leaned forward. ''Do you think Maryse and Isabelle, perhaps Simon as well, can handle…'' she trailed off, eyeing Geoffrey, clearly thinking over whether she wanted him to hear this.
''Handle what?'' Robert asked.
Jia sighed, looking as if she were expecting the inevitable. ''Jonathan Morgenstern is to be escorted here as well.''
''What?'' Geoffrey exclaimed. ''You- you are going to let him back in Idris?''
''You've never mentioned this before,'' Robert said. ''Jonathan Morgenstern consented to coming here?''
''I haven't asked him,'' Jia said. ''I'm ordering him. He is banished, but he is still a Shadowhunter. I want him escorted into Idris with your family- where he will be your responsibility- with the understanding that he is on a very, very short leash.''
''He will not be held in the cells?'' Geoffrey said aghast. ''What madness is this?''
Jia held up the Downworld Council's paper angrily. ''If representatives are to be present, than all representatives shall be present.''
''You want Jonathan as a representative for Moriah?'' Robert asked.
Jia shook her head. ''We are doing this fair and out in the open. Like it or not, Jonathan and Moriah have similarities. Jonathan was not convicted at his Trial-''
''-Due to a technicality,'' Geoffrey muttered under his breath. At Jia's glare, he coughed in a pathetic attempt to hide his comment.
''- And if certain people-'' still Jia glared at Geoffrey, ''- are so intent on getting grounds for a Trial, and therefore a conviction, then we will do it with the constant reminder that Jonathan Morgenstern was let off.''
Geoffrey muttered something again, but this time Robert couldn't hear it. However, he would place money on it being something along the lines of 'technicality' again. ''Maryse will get him here,'' he assured Jia.
''Good. And I want Magnus to travel with Clary and Jace.''
And Moriah. Robert understood Jia's meaning. Maryse would lead Jonathan here, and Magnus would lead Moriah. No need for them all to arrive at once and in the same place. Idris would be chaotic enough.
After assuring Jia he would take care of the details, Robert left the office and walked through the halls. This time next week, they would all know Moriah's fate.
Robert was almost out of the building when he paused, a noise reaching his ears. He looking to his right and down one of the corridors, the one which he knew led to the holding cells. He could hear an eerie, haunting voice singing. He recognized the song as an old mundane nursery rhyme, being sung much slower and in a darker tone than the author probably intended.
''For want of a nail the shoe was lost For want of a shoe the horse was lost For want of a horse the rider was lost For want of a rider the battle was lost For want of a battle the kingdom was lost And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.''
He clenched his fists and glared in the direction of the voice. He could picture Renage, sitting quite content in a fashion that wouldn't be given to ordinary prisoners. He wanted to think the fairy couldn't know he was here, listening, and yet the meaning of her song couldn't be mistaken. Moriah was the nail, and how Idris could be lost due to her he didn't know. But it was clearly what Shadowhunters like Geoffrey thought.
Robert leaned against the wall as Renage's haunting voice repeated her song. He wasn't an optimist, but things would be okay. They had to be. Jace and Clarissa would not lose their child. He would not lose his grandchild. He would not lose Cèline's and Stephen's grandchild.
Me: I hope you enjoyed! If you have time, please leave a review!
Happy Writing!
