The Hotel Dumont towered over her. She hadn't been near it since the night Simon got turned into a rat. Now, that night seemed so far away. A lifetime ago. Which, back then, she had been living another life. The life of Eliza Starkweather.
The scar on her throat seemed to grow cold being near the vampire hideout. It barely hurt anymore, just a burning sensation every so often.
She moved to the side of the hotel, relieved to see that the Dumpster had not been moved back to cover the grate on the wall. She removed the grate, tossing it aside. After looking around, she slid through the hole in the wall. Her feet landed soundly on solid ground. Brushing off her clothes, she started moving. She wondered what the vampires did inside the hotel during the day. Did they sleep? Party? She supposed she was about to find out.
The lobby of the hotel was how she remembered it. Grand staircase torn away by the vampires, moth-eaten rugs, and the smell of rot.
"What are you doing here?" The voice sent chills down her back. She turned, seeing Raphael standing before her. He wore a perplexed expression on his face, half-surprised and half-amused. "Here to ask another favor?"
She said no sharply. "That was Jonathan, not me."
"Declan is not here. He is out, hunting." Raphael informed her.
Her nose crinkled at the idea of Declan on the hunt for blood. It was something she tried not to think about. "Good. I'm not here for him."
The vampire frowned. "Simon is not here either. He spends his days at home." She told him she wasn't looking for Simon either. She was looking for him. He took a step back. "Shadowhunter, I will warn you that you are on our territory. One wrong move and we'll tear you apart."
She smirked. "I'd like to see you try." She mused. "But, I'm not here for a fight. I want to talk." She glanced up, not surprised to see several pale faces staring down at her. "I swear. On the Angel." She told Raphael. "I only need answers and then I'm gone."
Raphael looked up at the rafters and then back at her. He seemed to be strongly considering attacking her. She didn't blame him. "An oath on your Angel is concrete. Come, I have somewhere we can talk."
Raphael had a small room to himself in the hotel. Well-kept and dimly lit by two small lamps. There were blackout curtains covering both sets of windows, a dark red couch on the far wall, a black rug that covered most of the rotting floor, and a nice desk.
"Sit." He motioned to the couch. He took a decanter from the desk and poured a dark liquid into a glass. "I would offer you a drink but I don't believe we share the same taste." He waited for her to sit before he did.
"No, we don't." She agreed. She watched him take a delicate sip of the blood. It left a small stain on his upper lip, almost like a milk moustache but more sinister.
"These questions you have, how do you know I can help?" He asked.
She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "You told me that my blood was vile. What did you mean?"
Raphael leaned towards her. He pushed her hair back, examining the mark he had left on her neck. She knew how badly it looked, the puckered pink scar tissue that created a jagged shape on her throat. "I've tasted many kinds of blood in my time. Men, women, mortals. Shadowhunters and warlocks, even a vampire once. They all taste…different. Mortal blood gets the job done, it satiates the hunger and keeps us alive. It only tastes good. Blood from the Shadow World, however, it is special. Shadowhunter blood is…it's euphoric. LSD for vampires. Nothing tastes that good, that pure. It's the blood of your Angel that runs through your veins, that is what makes the blood of Shadowhunters so divine. But you, my friend, your blood is sour. It tastes like the blood of a warlock I once drank during a very low point in my life."
She rolled her eyes. "What are you saying? That I'm not a Shadowhunter. That would be ridiculous. If I weren't, the Marks would have killed me years ago."
He shook his head. "No, I know you are a Shadowhunter. But that may not be all you are." He leaned back into the couch. "Where do these questions come from?"
"The Seelie Queen. She put the notion into my sister's head that our father experimented on us." She said. "I'm only trying to follow up and prove it wrong." Or right.
What could he have done to make them the way they were? How could he have given Clary the ability to create runes and enforce them so powerfully? What had he done to make her blood so disgusting to vampires?
"Perhaps your father is not who he says he is." Raphael suggested. She asked what he meant. "Maybe your lineage is not as pure as he would have you believe. What would happen if a demon and a child of the Angel consorted? What sort of child would be created from that?"
She leaned back, pushing her hair from her face. The idea was crazy, completely mad. Yet, on some level, it made sense. It explained so much. Clary's abilities. How the taste of her own blood matched that of warlocks, who were half-demon themselves. She was sure that if Raphael were to taste Clary and Jonathan's blood, he would say that theirs was also vile.
She stood up and looked down at Raphael. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this has helped me." He nodded. "Two more things. One: Declan can't know I was here. Two: Any way I could get a hand out of this place? I'm not too keen on the roof exit." Raphael stood, saying he knew a way out. He led her back through the hotel and to the kitchen. There was a door that he said would take her out the alley adjacent to the one she used to get in. "Thanks again. Now, we're even for the throat thing." She told him.
"I was unaware, considering you attacked first." He reminded her.
She grinned. "You bit my neck and tore through it. I have an ugly scar. We were not on good terms. Now, we are. Now, I'll second-guess killing you if the time comes." She patted him on the shoulder. "See ya."
Demon blood. Angel blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.
It was all she could think about. The blood of Raziel coursed through her veins. Along with the blood of some random demon.
But, the voice in her head rang out, what if it isn't random?
She reached around her back and took out her sword. The white of the gold mixed with the adamas glittered in the sunlight. Her fingers ran over the bright rubies on the hilt, tracing over the engraved 'M' with her index finger. Mixed in with the metal of the blade was the blood of a Prince of Hell. Lucifer.
What had Valentine done to get Lucifer to give his blood for a Shadowhunter weapon? Her eyes traveled, staring at the blue-green veins on her wrist. Surely….
It wasn't impossible. If her father had been able to get Lucifer to provide blood for a sword, it was possible that the Prince of Hell would have given blood for children. At what cost, though? What assurance was given? Valentine didn't have the Mortal Sword all of those years ago to command Lucifer to give his blood. What could he have promised the Prince of Hell?
An army.
Valentine would have promised him an army in exchange for blood. An army led by three extraordinary Shadowhunters that had abilities no other Nephilim did.
She felt sick. The Seelie Queen had been right. Valentine had experimented on them. He had somehow gotten Lucifer's blood in their DNA, making them more powerful than any other Shadowhunter.
The shrill ringing of her cell phone cut through her thoughts. Isabelle's name flashed on the screen. She flipped the phone open. "What's up?" Izzy's words were scrambled and rushed. She only heard snippets, something about Jace, the Lightwoods, and the Inquisitor. "Hold on. Hold on, Iz. I'll be right there. As soon as I can." Eliza shut the phone and sheathed her sword all in two fluid movements.
The Inquisitor. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with Imogen Herondale.
The demon energy bike squealed to a stop in front of Luke's house. The good thing about the bike's was that they functioned perfectly normal during the day, if you knew how to work them. She vaulted from the bike and let it clamor to the ground. Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran into the house, completely unprepared for what she was about to see.
Alec was sitting on the floor, a dazed look on his face, Izzy kneeling next to him. Magnus was staring straight ahead. Luke was standing near Clary. Jace's head snapped up as Eliza rushed through the door. Maryse Lightwood and her husband, Robert, were standing off to the side of the Inquisitor.
"Eliza Morgenstern. What an unpleasant surprise." Imogen Herondale muttered. "Where have you been?" She asked sharply.
Eliza bit her tongue, refraining from saying something smart. "The Hotel Dumont and then I went back home."
The Inquisitor seemed surprised at her pliant response. "You are right on time. I was just about to tell everyone about yours and your brother's little visit with your father last night."
Alec jumped up from the floor. She heard someone inhale sharply. She felt Jace's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. "They doesn't know where Valentine is, Imogen." Luke insisted. "You're being absurd."
Imogen looked between Jace and Eliza. "Which one of you is going to tell the truth? The liar or the brat?"
"I'm not telling you anything." Jace said defiantly.
The Inquisitor's eye twitched angrily. She turned to Eliza. "Tell us all about your father's little joy boat. The one in the middle of the East River."
She felt everyone staring at her. Jace's was the most pressing. His look would say everything his words couldn't: Don't tell. Lie. Lie like you always do.
She met the Inquisitor's gaze. "We were there. Last night." She confirmed. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jace's face fall, his jaw locked. The Inquisitor's face gleamed. "Jace asked Raphael, the head of New York's vampire clan, to bring a demon bike here to Luke's last night. He asked me to go somewhere with him but didn't tell me where. I went, only because I trusted him." She glanced at Jace. He was looking down at the floor. "You can imagine my surprise when Valentine appeared. But you already knew the part about Raphael, didn't you?"
Imogen Herondale nodded. There was a bright look in her eyes, the kind of look that suggested she was thriving off of the energy in the room. "Jonathan, empty your pockets. Give me that little object you hold so dear."
Jace reached into his jacket pocket and took out a large piece of glass. Eliza squinted, looking closer. It wasn't any piece of glass, it was a broken piece of the Portal mirror Valentine had used to escape. How long had Jace been carrying that with him?
"I'll take that." The Inquisitor said. She swiped the piece of mirror from Jace's hand so quickly, the glass cut into him. Eliza saw the spurt of blood well on the palm of his hand. A quiet noise escaped from Maryse's mouth. "For someone so impertinent, you really are sentimental. Which is why I knew you would go back for this." The Inquisitor held the piece of mirror up in the air. Robert Lightwood asked what exactly was so special about a piece of glass. "It's a piece of mirror that Valentine used as a Portal. When he destroyed it, it preserved an image of its last destination. Wayland manor."
Eliza could see the image in the glass. Bright green grass, the beautiful country manor, clear blue sky. Her heart longed for Idris, to go back and escape from everything. Somehow, she would sneak Declan in. Together, they'd live a peaceful life.
All of a sudden, the Inquisitor threw the piece of glass to the floor, letting it shatter on impact. It broke into hundreds of glistening shards that fell like powder. Jace inhaled sharply but made no movement. The Inquisitor slipped a glove onto her hand and knelt down, fingering through the broken glass. She pulled up a thin slip of paper, marked by a black rune.
"You used a tracking rune." Eliza noted. She had to give credit where it was due. The Inquisitor was smart.
The woman said yes. "Like I said, I knew that Jonathan would return for it. I placed the tracking rune on the paper and put it between the glass and the backing for when he would retrieve it." She sounded mildly impressed with her own actions, like she hadn't been sure if it would actually work or not.
"So, the Clave just spies on people now? You invade our privacy, go through our things, and follow us?" Jace's voice was white-hot with anger, his face red.
The Inquisitor turned to him sharply. "I would watch your tongue, boy. Your friends are also complicit in your crime. In releasing you from the Silent City, they too broke the Law." Her eyes slid over each person in the room. Eliza wasn't fond of the look she gave Magnus. Isabelle reminded the Inquisitor that Jace was their brother.
"Imogen, don't be ridiculous." Robert Lightwood managed to say. "They're only children."
The Inquisitor gave him a cold glare. "Only children? Do I need to remind you what children are capable of? You and your wife were only children when you joined the Circle and consequently planned to destroy the Clave. My son was only a child when-." She stopped her words abruptly, her eyes wide.
"Is all of this truly about Stephen?" Luke asked her.
Who the hell was Stephen, Eliza wondered.
"No! This is and always has been about the Law!" The Inquisitor's voice was shrill and harsh.
Eliza watched Maryse's face draw together in complicated thought. Her hands wrung together in front of her, thin fingers working over and around, twisting and knotting. "What happens to Jace? And Eliza." An afterthought. Never the first.
The Inquisitor set her mouth in a thin line. "All you can know is that they will be returning to Idris with me tomorrow."
Idris. The world worked in funny ways.
"You can't!" Clary told the Inquisitor. "When are you going to bring them back?"
Eliza looked at her sharply. "Stop, Clary." She insisted. "This isn't your fight."
Clary shook her head. "They aren't the problem! It's Valentine!"
Jace spun around to face her, his eyes dark. "Jesus, Clary, just leave it alone!"
Clary's face twitched and she stepped back. She was wrong. Jace was the problem. He was on the wrong side. Luke put his hand on Clary's shoulder. "If the twins sought out Valentine, the fault is ours, not theirs. We failed them." His voice was calm, deep and solid as the ocean after a storm.
Eliza rolled her eyes. "I didn't seek him out." She said harshly. "I despise him. I loathe him. More than anyone in this room, I promise you that." She told Luke. She turned to Magnus. "I told you once that if I had to pay for his crimes, pay for the crime of being his blood, I would gladly do it. But," she turned back to the Inquisitor, "I will not pay for the crime of being complicit with Valentine, because I am not. Jonathan tricked me, he used my trust against me and he took me to the place I never wanted to be, in the presence of our father."
Alec was perched on the arm of the couch, lost in thought. "There's no excuse." He said quietly. His head lifted. "Jace lied. To all of us. It isn't excusable."
Eliza's eyes widened as Jace's mouth fell open. There was no way Alec was siding with the Inquisitor. Alec was always loyal to Jace, that was what being parabatai meant.
"The Law is hard, but it is the Law." Alec said, his tone full of finality. His gaze was trained on Eliza. He gave a small nod.
Izzy let out an unnatural noise, something that bordered on agony and anger. She spun on her heel, running out the front door. Maryse went to go after her, but Robert put a gentle hand on her elbow to hold her in place.
"Time for me to go as well, I believe." Magnus announced. He avoided Alec as he made his way to Eliza. "You and I need to have a chat, little dove. We'll speak soon." She murmured a yes. He looked to the rest of the people in the room. "As for everyone else, the next time I see any of you will be much too soon." Magnus strutted from the living room and out the front door. The door slammed shut loudly.
"Your hands." The Inquisitor motioned to Jace. He held out his hands as she took out her stele. Eliza watched as she drew a Mark around the area of his wrists. The Mark forced his hands over one another, binding them with a ring of fire. She didn't even have to ask Eliza before she was holding out her hands. She performed the same Mark. Eliza felt surprised, even though she knew it wouldn't hurt unless she tried to get free.
"You're going to burn them!" Clary shouted.
"No, little sister." Jace said, his voice sounding suddenly bored. "Only if we try to get free."
Eliza nodded. "We'll be fine." She managed a smile. If she managed to get free, she was going to ring Jace's neck.
The Inquisitor looked down at Clary. "Count yourself lucky that you were raised by Jocelyn and not Valentine. No matter, I'll be watching you very closely." She warned.
If Imogen Herondale so much as laid a finger on Clary, Eliza was going to shove her foot so far down her throat, the woman felt her teeth in her ass. Luke pulled Clary closer to him, asking if Imogen was threatening Clary.
"No." The Inquisitor said. "The Clave doesn't threaten. We make promises and we always keep them." On that note, she grabbed Jace by the shoulders. "Let's go. Jonathan, walk in front of me. Eliza, next to your brother. If either of you tries to run, I'll shove my seraph blade through your backs."
Her words chilled Eliza's spine. She didn't doubt for a second that Imogen wouldn't hesitate to kill either one of them. She felt pretty close to wanting to kill Jace as well. Jace struggled but managed to open the front door. She let him walk out the door first and followed him, unnervingly aware of how close the Inquisitor was following behind her.
As much as she wanted it to, her mind wouldn't shut down. The thought of Lucifer's blood running through her veins made her sick. And then there was the fact that she was currently detained. She knew she would be punished. She had smarted off to the Inquisitor upon their first meeting, landing herself in the cells of the Silent City, then Jace had tricked her into going to Valentine. She was well aware that it didn't matter that she hated her father, that she wanted to see him fail, to watch him die. She would be punished just for being his daughter.
What that punishment was, though, she didn't know. There were so many things that could happen to her. They could once again lock her down in the Silent City prison, send her away, or…or they could strip her Marks.
She looked down at the Voyance rune on her hand. Even though she couldn't see it, she knew the Angelic Rune was in the exact same spot it always had been, the back of her neck. Who was she, without the Marks? Who would she be if she weren't a Shadowhunter?
No one. That was exactly who she would be. Nothing and no one. She couldn't imagine a life free of being a Shadowhunter. No longer hunting demons or training or fighting with Downworlders over the Law.
She supposed that, should they strip her Marks, she would be completely free to be with Declan. There would be nothing stopping them. They could go anywhere, do anything, be free of the Clave. The only problem would be his unnatural urge to drink her blood. But, if she drank his blood, turning herself into a vampire, that wouldn't be a problem…
Stupid, she told herself. You aren't doing that.
It really was a ridiculous notion. She wasn't even sure she wanted to be with him. Not the way she wanted Jace. Even as pissed as she was, as much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn't bring herself to. She knew that she would always love him, but that certainly didn't mean that she wouldn't kick his ass when the time came.
She spared a look over at him. He looked the worse she had ever seen him. Neither of them had slept the night before and she was sure their non-speaking was taking a toll on him. She wondered if he too had thought about what would happen to them. Did he assume that their Marks would be stripped and they would be exiled too?
The Inquisitor opened up the door to the training room and let them both inside. She caught Jace looking at himself in the mirrors of the room. Was he seriously checking himself out? They had just been arrested!
"You won't look as attractive once I'm finished with you." The Inquisitor said in a dark voice.
Eliza raised her eyebrows as Jace moved his attention away from the mirrors and to the Inquisitor. "Ms. Herondale, do you find yourself attracted to me? You're amongst the many, I believe." He replied, his voice easy and smooth.
Eliza rolled her eyes. How typical of him. "Disgusting." The Inquisitor muttered. "I'm old enough to be your mother." She reached into the pouch on her waist and pulled out four pieces of metal rod. Blades, Eliza realized.
Jace nodded. Did he think of Jocelyn when the talk of mothers came up? "You have a son, don't you?" He asked her. "Stephen?"
Eliza stumbled backwards as the Inquisitor turned on Jace with a look of fury that struck a little fear inside her. "Never speak his name!" She hissed at him. It took her a few moments to regain her sense of control, pointing at the center of the room. "Both of you. Stand in the middle of the room."
Eliza didn't hesitate to move, getting to her spot before Jace. He stood beside her, a few feet away. He was staring down at his hands. The unusual rune that the Inquisitor had used to bind their hands didn't come without pain. Eliza had pushed the feeling aside, focusing on what would happen once they were back in Idris. Settled on the idea of being stripped of her Marks, the pain returned. She felt as if knives were being stabbed into her wrists.
The Inquisitor named one of the blades Jophiel and stuck it into the wooden floor. Eliza expected something to happen, but nothing did. The Inquisitor took another of the blades, named it Harahel, moved a few feet, and placed it in the floor. It was when she placed the third blade, which she named Sandalphon, into the ground that Eliza figured out what she was doing. They had been placed in cardinal directions. North, south, and east. She placed the fourth blade, Taharial, to the west.
"You won't be going anywhere." The Inquisitor announced, a proud look on her face. "Just one more thing first." She said quietly. She went back to the blade at the south point and took out her stele. She etched a rune on the floor next to the blade. When she got to her feet, a sweet and high noise filled the room. Eliza wished she could cover her ears.
Each of the blades erupted in light and she squeezed her eyes shut. She waited for the noise to dissipate before she opened them again. When she did, she saw what she had expected. The cage. Exactly like she remembered. Rather than metal, the walls were made of moving light that blurred the outside world.
"What is this?" Jace shouted at the Inquisitor. Her form was barely made out behind the cage, Jace's voice distorted. She thought she heard the Inquisitor laugh. Jace grimaced and stepped forward. His right shoulder brushed a part of the wall and she heard him groan. He fell to the floor, landing on his back.
"It's a Malachi Configuration." Eliza said wearily. Jace's head snapped up so that he was looking at her. Almost in unison, both he and the Inquisitor asked how she knew that. "Valentine put me in one when I was eleven. My training performance was, I think he called it 'dismal' that day." She told them.
She couldn't make out the expression on the woman's face. "The walls of the Configuration cannot be broken as long as the blades remain in place. However," Jace was working his way towards the western blade, "if you touch the blades, you'll die."
Jace glanced up at Eliza, trying to confirm the Inquisitor's words. She nodded slowly, hating to agree with the wicked woman. "You can touch them." Jace noted. The Inquisitor said yes, but also told him that she wouldn't. "What do we do about food and water?" He asked. "And our hands."
Blood was starting to well up at his wrists where the metal was burning into them. She was sure that if she looked down at her own wrists, she would see the same thing.
"This is but one of the consequences for your little visit with your father last night." The Inquisitor reminded him.
Eliza's shoulders fell. She knew it. She was being punished for being Valentine's daughter. She had had nothing to do with going to see him, all of it Jace's idea. "Well, I know one thing." Eliza sighed. "There's no way in Hell that the Council is worse than you."
She heard the Inquisitor laugh quietly. "You aren't going before the Council." She told them. Her voice calm and collected, at peace.
Jace and Eliza looked at each other. Both had looks of concern and just a little fear. "You said you were taking us to Idris tomorrow." Jace said slowly.
"I'm taking you to your father. I'm going to request a trade: the two of you for the Mortal Instruments."
Her legs went out from under her. She fell down to the floor, her knees hitting the hard, polished wood. Valentine. The Inquisitor was going to take them to Valentine. She wanted to throw up.
"You're kidding." Jace said dully.
The Inquisitor said no. "You'll be banned from the Clave, though, I'll make sure of that. I'm sure you knew that."
Eliza looked up from the floor. She focused, training her eyes to see the Inquisitor's through the fuzzy barrier of the cage. "You're wrong." She said thickly.
She saw the confused expression pass over the woman's face. "No, I believe I'm quite right. You will be banned from the Clave."
Eliza shook her head once. "About Valentine, our father. He won't give up the Mortal Instruments. Not for Jonathan, certainly not for me. You've pegged him wrong." She told the woman. Her words held no malice, only fact. The Inquisitor said that a parent would do anything for their children. "Not him." Eliza said. "You could shove a blade through our hearts and he still wouldn't hand over the Mortal Instruments. I promise."
The Inquisitor countered her again. "You don't understand. A parent loves their child like nothing else in the world. No other love exists that is so consuming, so powerful. I'm sure that even Valentine, the monster he is, wouldn't sacrifice either of his children for power."
"She's right." Jace told the Inquisitor. "He'll laugh in your face."
Eliza got to her feet. She got close to the wall of the cage, not so close that she would be burned, but close enough to feel just a small amount of heat on her face. "Do yourself a favor and save us all some time. Take us to Idris tomorrow, put us on trial before the Clave. We'll be found guilty and stripped of our Marks, exiled from the Shadow World. You'll be wasting everyone's time if you try this stint with Valentine."
The woman looked cross, impatience in her eyes. "Ever the father's children, little obedient servants of Valentine." She heaved a sigh. "He trained you both well. Even in his absence, you follow his command." What the hell was she going on about? "You don't want him to hand over the Mortal Instruments. If he loses them, he loses power, which means you do as well. I won't be fooled by two smart-mouthed children."
Eliza wanted to bang her head against the light wall. How could the Inquisitor be so senseless? "I want nothing more than to take the Sword and the Cup from him. I want him to lose. I want him to die." She told the Inquisitor. "He won't do it. He doesn't care about anything else, only his work. Only his mission."
Jace agreed with her. "You hate us and you think we're liars. And we are. But we aren't lying when we tell you that he won't relinquish his power. Our father completely and whole-heartedly believes in his mission. He thinks what he's doing is right. Surely you heard what he told us." He plead. The Inquisitor said no. She only saw.
"He's using the Mortal Instruments to build an army of demons. The longer we sit here and debate over whether or not he loves us, dear old Dad is creating an army that the Clave will not defeat." Eliza explained. "There's no time for this."
"I've grown tired of your lies." The Inquisitor said suddenly. She turned away from them, walking away. Eliza's shoulders slumped. Just before she reached the door, the Inquisitor turned back to face them. "I don't want to return you to your father." She told them. Eliza only saw the vague shape of her face, her grey clothes had molded into the shadows of the room." He doesn't deserve that much kindness." In a quiet and unsure voice, Jace asked what he deserved. "The hold his child in his arms, lifeless and cold. To know that no matter what he does, there is no power that will bring his child back to life." Her voice faltered, her words uneven and shaky, but there was a darkness in them, a hatred. "He deserves to know what that feeling is like." At her last word, the Inquisitor slipped through the door and let it fall shut.
It seemed like hours had gone by before either of them managed to look at each other. She thought she broke first, her gaze sliding over to see if he was still awake. Her breath hitched when she saw that he was already looking at her. He was lying on his back, head turned to look at her. He didn't look particularly comfortable.
"You're creeping me out." She stated. "How long have you been staring?"
He said he didn't know, wincing and glancing down at his shoulder before looking back at her. She could only imagine how much pain he was in. "You practically begged her to strip your Marks and exile you." He said thoughtfully. "I didn't know you hated being a Shadowhunter so much."
She said that wasn't the reason. He asked what could possibly make her sound desperate to be exiled. "It's better than going back to him." She said truthfully. "Anything, even death, would be better." She told him in a quiet voice.
His eyes softened, the color of warm honey on a summer day. "You never told me about the Malachi Configuration."
She couldn't help the crass smile that found its way on her lips. She looked down at the floor and then back to him. "I try not to think about it. The whippings, those were bad. At least, I thought they were bad until I spent three days locked in a cage. I spent the first day trying to get out. I was covered in burns from slamming myself against the wall. By the second day, I thought it was one of his lessons, a test. It was about perseverance, diligence, obedience, a multitude of things he had forced into my head." She laughed, a hollow sound. "When day three rolled around, I thought he left me there to die. He had always told me what a disappointment I was, how I would never be better than you." Both of them, Jonathan and Jace. Jace and Jonathan. His pride and his joy. "He never fed me, never came down to the basement. I thought about grabbing one of the blades, hoping he had told the truth and it would kill me. And then he came downstairs, two small ravens perched on his shoulders. Hugin and Munin. A birthday present, that was what he called them." She laughed again, raising her head to look at the ceiling. "I spent my twelfth birthday locked in a cage. He never apologized. He let me out, warned me of the perils of disobedience for the thousandth time, and then never spoke of it again."
Jace licked his lips slowly. "I'm sorry." He said softly. She said it wasn't his fault. He didn't lock her up. He hadn't whipped her. Starved her. Tortured her. "That's not what I'm talking about, Liz." She met his gaze. "I'm sorry for last night. I never should have taken you there. I never should have gone. If I hadn't, we wouldn't be here."
He wasn't wrong. If he could have just been a little stronger, they wouldn't be locked up. She wouldn't be on her way back to her father. "You're right." She told him. "We wouldn't be. But none of it matters now."
Before he could speak, soft footsteps came from the other side of the room. Jace sat up as fluidly as he could, leaning forward. She got to her feet, drawing extremely close to the wall of the cage. All she could make out was a dark figure in the room. If it was the Inquisitor, she was going to lose her mind. Hadn't the woman done enough?
Then again, Eliza knew she had suffered enough. Her hatred for Valentine was personal. The Inquisitor's words had rung in her head for a long time after she had left them in the training room. Her father had shown her his book of the Circle countless times. She remembered seeing Stephen Herondale in one of the photos. He was dead, the son of the Inquisitor.
The figure stepped into the light of the cage. She smiled with relief.
"Alec." Jace's voice was tough. There was no way he had forgiven Alec for siding with the Inquisitor at Luke's.
Alec said yes, kneeling down on the ground. He reached out to the wall. "What is this?" He asked.
"Don't." Eliza yelped. "It burns." She warned him. "Courtesy of the Inquisitor."
Alec whistled lowly. "She was serious, huh?"
Jace agreed. "Haven't you heard?" Eliza didn't like the acidic tone of his voice. So, he wasn't over the Alec thing. "We're dangerous criminals."
Behind the cage, she saw Alec flinch at his words. "That wasn't the word she used." He replied quietly. "And this isn't a joke. What were you two even thinking, going to see Valentine?"
Eliza held up a hand. "I want it to be clear that it wasn't my idea." She reminded Alec. "Jonathan tricked me."
Jace's eyes steeled. "He's my father. Our father."
Alec didn't look pleased with his answer. If Eliza could have punched him, she would have. Oh, how she wished her hands weren't bound. "He isn't!" She shouted at him. "He isn't a father, he's a monster." Jace said his name, starting to counter her but she stopped him. "Fathers don't do what he did. What he does. He may be your father, but he isn't mine. He never was."
Alec grimaced. "Jace, she has a point…"
"What would you do, Alec, if it were your father?" Jace asked in a low voice.
Alec looked stunned. The expression he wore was almost as if Jace had punched him in the gut. He and Eliza looked at each other. She shrugged. "He wouldn't ever do the stuff that Valentine has done."
Jace snapped. He looked as if something inside of him, a wire, had frayed and he'd been electrocuted. "He did!" Jace yelled. "Robert and Maryse were in the Circle with my father! There's only one difference: my father didn't get caught and yours did!"
Her mouth fell open. Her throat tightened as she processed what Jace had said to his parabatai. "The only difference?" Alec asked quietly. Jace averted his gaze to his hands. "Jace, I only meant that I thought you wouldn't want to see him after…after everything he did to you." Jace remained silent, looking away from both of them. "He faked his death in front of you. He let you believe that he was dead for years." Alec's words became thick, the struggle evident. "No one who loves you could do anything like that. No one who loves you hurts you that way." He told Jace.
Jace grimaced at his hands. When he looked up, she knew he was in pain. Not just physically, emotionally. His eyes were dark, droopy from exhaustion. "He promised me." He said, words slow and sure. "He promised that if I took his side and supported him, he would ensure that the ones I loved would be safe. He promised to protect every single one of them. Not you. Not Izzy. Not Max or your parents. Not Clary. Not El-." He stopped himself, quickly looking over at her. "He promised."
Alec nodded, chewing on his lower lip. "He meant that he wouldn't hurt them himself." Eliza paraphrased. "That doesn't mean he won't have someone else do it. He has demons doing his dirty work quite a bit these days."
Jace coughed. "Liz, you saw what he can do. The demon army he's calling to him. He's going to start a war. And you know what happens to people in wars. They get hurt. They die." He said. "This is a chance to protect everyone. To protect you."
Her nose twitched when she looked at Alec. She wondered if he knew. He and Jace were closer than brothers. Had Jace ever gone to him and confided in him about what he thought were the unnatural feelings he held for his sister? She supposed not. She didn't expect that they spoke about things like that. Jace wasn't one to confide his feelings in someone.
"If you support him?" Alec clarified. Jace said yes, that was the condition. "Well, I can imagine how pissed he was when you told him no." Jace met his gaze through the wall.
Eliza looked between the two boys. Was Jace going to tell him? "What makes you think I refused his offer?" Jace inquired quietly.
Alec glared back at him. "Didn't you? Say no?" He snapped.
Jace glanced at her. He nodded once. He was lying, lying to his parabatai. Unless...unless he wasn't? She had left immediately after Jace had told her father he had made a decision. She didn't want to stick around for the details. She had taken the demon bike and booked it off the ship. She didn't exactly know what his decision was, only that he had made one.
Alec stood up, a much more pleasant look on his face. "Thought so. Did you tell the Inquisitor what Valentine is planning?"
Eliza snorted. Both of them looked at her. "She knows. She thinks she has a way to fix it. We tried telling her that her plan sucks, but she's too prideful."
Alec said that sounded likely. "We'll talk more about it later. We've got to get you guys out of this…"
"Malachi Configuration." Eliza told him.
Alec stared back in silence. "Don't ask." Jace warned him. "You won't like the answer. Besides, what happened to 'The Law is hard, but it is the Law'?" He asked sharply.
Alec looked shocked at Jace's words. "You really thought I meant that?" He questioned, words equally as sharp. Jace raised his eyebrows. "I needed the Inquisitor to trust me. She's watching Izzy and Max because they're on your side. I don't need her watching me." Jace asked if Alec was on his side, their side. There was more to it than just making sure Alec was on the right side. Jace needed to know if they were still as they always had been: brothers. "Always." Alec's voice was steady, his word sure. "She hates the two of you. But I don't think it's about you. There's something else there, I just don't know what it is."
Eliza tried her best to clap her hands together. The noise called their attention, followed by the bells in the cathedral ringing out. She looked at the rafters. Hugo had often flown above the training room, perching himself high above the young training Shadowhunters, spying on them. Feeding information for Hodge to give to Valentine.
"I know." She told the two of them. Jace asked what she was talking about. "I know why she hates us, you in particular." Both of them told her to elaborate. "Do you remember when Luke mentioned someone named Stephen earlier?" They both said yes. "Stephen was her son. If I remember correctly, I think he was in the Circle. And I think he died. All of that stuff she said to us, about Valentine deserving to know what it feels like to hold his dead child in his arms? I think it's about Stephen." She explained. She could only imagine how it felt to lose a child, to hold them while they died. Valentine would never feel that way, he would never feel that hurt.
Would her mother? Would Jocelyn feel the pain if she died? When she died.
"I can ask my parents. To be sure." Alec suggested.
Jace said no immediately. "Ask Luke." He told him. "Send a text to Clary using Isabelle's phone or something and tell Clary to ask Luke."
Eliza rolled her eyes and scoffed. Jace asked if she had a problem. "I have a phone. I can call him and ask. Whenever I get the hell out of these chains." She rose her hands and shook them at Alec.
His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he remembered his original task. "Right. Give me a few minutes. I'll be right back." He rushed out of the training room.
Jace had laid back down. His eyes were closed and she was sure he was asleep. She paced. That seemed like all she did anymore. Pace and pace and pace. Think and think and think.
Valentine. Jocelyn. Imogen and Stephen Herondale. Jace. It always came back to him. The way he made her feel. How he absolutely infuriated her. How she loved him more than anyone else, more than anything else.
"What are you guys doing?" Alec's voice carried through the room as he sprinted back in. There was a sincerity in his voice that made her aware of the fact he really wanted to know what they were doing. He knelt down next to the wall.
"I've found that lying on the floor and cringing in pain is quite relaxing." Jace answered crudely.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's interesting." Alec noted lightly. "Wait. You're being sarcastic." He sighed. "Liz?"
She looked at him through the shimmering wall. "Thinking of the different ways I could kill my father." She said bluntly. It was a nice lie, and truth be told, she had thought about it on several occasions.
Alec inhaled sharply. "Right. Well, both of you move back. I'm going to try and slip you something through the wall." Before either of them could object, he was pushing something through the wall. A small red sphere and a small green sphere rolled towards them. The red sphere bumped into Jace's knee.
Eliza bent down and picked up the green one. "Apples." She observed. "You brought apples."
"How nice of you." Jace drawled.
She saw Alec shrug. "Figured you guys were hungry. I remembered you like the green ones better, Liz." He mentioned.
She said a quiet thank you. She had gone three days without food before, a few hours wasn't hurting her. She took a small bite from the apple. Jace asked if Alec had gotten around to texting Clary yet.
"No. Izzy won't let me in her room. She just screams from the other side. She threatened to jump out the window if I came in and honestly, I wouldn't put it past her." He told them. They both agreed. Izzy was a little dramatic. "I don't think she's really forgiven me yet for my supposed betrayal." Alec added.
"Smart girl." Jace said lightly.
She assumed that Alec rolled his eyes. "Here. Something else too." He slid a small metal disk through the wall. Jace let his apple fall to the floor and picked up the disk. "I'm pretty sure it's an Unlocking rune." Alec said. "I'm not completely sure, but I figured it was worth a try."
Jace shrugged and touched the disk to his wrists. At contact, the blue flames dissolved and the cuff vanished. Jace had a look of appreciation on his face. "Thanks." He told Alec. He walked over to Eliza and touched the disk to her wrists. She sighed in relief as the cuff disappeared.
"Thank the Angel himself." She breathed. Alec cleared his throat. "You too, Alec. Of course." There were thick red lines around her wrists from the cuff. Not much blood, unlike Jace's wrists. He had, she assumed, struggled a little bit with the manacle. She flexed her fingers, stretching them out and rolling her wrists.
"Anyways, I got to thinking earlier after Izzy said she'd jump out her window. I told her she couldn't or she'd probably end up dying." Eliza said he wasn't wrong. "That's not the point, though, not really." He said quickly. "Jace, I've seen you do things that seem impossible. I watched you fall three stories and you landed perfectly on your feet. You've jumped onto a roof, just from the ground."
Eliza's eyes slid over to Jace. He didn't wear the proud expression she had expected. "Are you going to get to the point?" Jace asked slowly.
Alec groaned. "Jace. There are only four walls to your…"- "Malachi Configuration."- "not five." He continued.
"Right. If only the Inquisitor had been kind enough to use only two walls, then we might get somewhere." Jace muttered.
"Shut up!" Alec shouted at him. Eliza flinched. She'd never heard Alec yell before, not like that. And from the look on Jace's face, neither had he. "I'm telling you that there isn't a top to the cage. You could jump out."
Jace and Eliza both looked up. The rafters were high in the ceiling, so high they seemed lost in the shadows. "That's a crazy idea." Jace mumbled.
"I believe in you." Alec assured him. "I know what you're capable of."
She licked her lips slowly. They were special, the Morgenstern children. She, Jonathan, and Clary. Valentine had mixed Lucifer's blood in with their own. He had created his own kind of Shadowhunters. She looked at Jace. She had, with her own eyes, see Jace do incredible things. Things normal Shadowhunters couldn't. Who was to say that her father's pet project wasn't special too? Who was to say that Valentine hadn't widened his experiments to the children of other Shadowhunters?
"Liz." Jace's voice rang clear apart from her jumbled and hurried thoughts. Their eyes met. "What do you think?"
She looked between him, the rafters above them, the Malachi Configuration around them, and the floor below them. When her eyes finally landed back on him, they were a dark green, a hard look in them. "Anything is better than going back to him."
His tawny eyes widened, but the nod he gave her was sure. He picked the apple up from the floor and tossed it in the air. The apple soared and then fell against one of the shimmering silver walls. It burst into blue flames.
Eliza winced. "I think I was wrong." Alec said suddenly. "Maybe you shouldn't…"
Jace angrily told him to shut up. He looked up, taking in the rafters above. "Go first." He told her. "If you don't get high enough, I'll be here to catch you."
She frowned at him. "Who catches you if you don't get high enough?"
"Don't worry about me. I'm Valentine's arrow."
She didn't want to know what that meant. She didn't say anything else. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, staring up at the rafters. Black wood, aged and firm. Steady, always holding up the Institute's roof. She had jumped down from them many times. What was the difference in jumping up to them?
She rolled her neck. She bent her knees, eyes open. They were no longer green. They were black as night. She took a deep breath, focusing only on the rafter she wanted to get to.
She jumped.