She should have been up on the deck, killing whatever demons she could. She knew that Jace, and probably Luke as well, were up there, slaughtering as many demons as they could.
But if it were just the two of them, she had an uneasy feeling that they weren't doing too well. Or at all. She realized that she wasn't afraid. Clary's rune had worked a little too well for her liking.
"Don't listen to him, Eliza." Clary's voice sounded so positive, so sure. "He's just trying to get in your head."
Eliza's hand had fallen from the Sword, hanging at her side. "No. I am trying to make you understand." Valentine's voice was thick with meaning.
She stayed silent. "You're trying to use them to hurt each other." Clary snapped at him. "If you thought that, if you really believed it, you would be angry. That's how a real father would be, anyways." Clary told him.
The problem was, Eliza wanted to say, he wasn't Jace's father. That's why he wasn't angry. He could find the amusement in the situation and laugh about it, taunt her and hold it over her head. No one else knew their secret.
"We all share the same blood, Clarissa. I am your father, just as I am Eliza's father. And Jonathan's."
Clary groaned, raising her head. "You aren't my father. Luke is my father. We've had this discussion before." Valentine said she only felt that way because of Luke's relationship with Jocelyn. "They're friends. Only friends." Clary stated matter-of-factly.
Eliza raised her eyebrows. Only friends? She was sure Luke felt a little more strongly than that. And from his expression, so did her father. "Interesting." He murmured. "I think we all know that Lucian would not have endured this tiring life of running and staying in the shadows, the devotion of it all, just for a faithful friendship. Clarissa, my child, you do not understand people and less than that, men." He told her.
She told him he was wrong. Eliza restrained from laughing. "You think everyone needs an ugly motive to do something." Clary said. "You're wrong about both of them, Luke and Jace."
"So, you think love is ugly?" Valentine asked her. "You have a different view of it than your sister, who only sees sunshine and flowers." He sneered. "There is nothing ugly about love. Unless, you believe deep down that Lucian is not human and he is not capable of love." Clary snarled that Luke was human, just as human as she was. More so than Valentine. She called him a bigot. "No, I am not." He said tightly. He took a step and Clary took one towards the Sword. "You see me as a mundane would, because that is how you were raised. Mundanes make distinctions among themselves, distinctions based on religion, race, nationality. All irrelevant. All useless. Though, somewhere deep down, mundanes know that in the world is the other, the ones that are harmful and wrong. We know them as demons, but demons are not visible to the mundane eye. Because of this, mundanes feel threatened by their own kind." He stepped forward, she stepped back.
Eliza backed into the shadows, feeling for her knives. One, two, three…four. All there. She still had both her seraph blades. And on her back, Eosphoros. She could kill her father with the sword he made for her.
"I see the truth, what others cannot." Valentine continued. "That is the burden of being a Shadowhunter, a true Shadowhunter. We see what the weaker cannot. The truths of evil stare us in the face and we stare at them back. We know that the evil walks earth, but it is not one of us. It is apart, different. And because of this, what does not belong cannot be allowed to stay here, else it grow like a poisonous flower and choke the life from us all."
He was poisonous. The flower in the garden that took from the others, that suffocated the others and let them die. He meant demons but spoke of himself. Clary had stopped, her back against the footlocker. So close to the Sword.
Eliza saw the glazed over look on her sister's face. Enthralled by his words, the silk of his voice. And then she snapped out of it. "Luke's not a demon." Clary finally spoke.
Their father looked suddenly very exhausted of the conversation. His eyes were slanted in an annoyed fashion, his shoulders tense. "Untrained, clearly." He sounded bored. "You've no idea what a demon is and what a demon is not. You are charmed by the façade of kindness that Downworlders show to you. I can excuse this, seeing as your sister prefers to…fraternize with them on a more intimate level." Disgust coated his words. "You see demons are malevolent and disgusting beasts that plague the earth and mean us harm. However, demons exist in other places too. They walk in disguise, some of them far worse than the disgusting creatures I've called here tonight." Valentine went into deep and intricate detail of a demon he had encountered once in London who had his servant bring him animals and children. Clary begged him to stop but he continued on. The demon would feast on the animals and the children over the course of multiple days, torturing them and feeding on their pain and cries.
"Enough!" Clary screamed at him. "Stop it!"
Valentine seemed satisfied, a small smile on his lips. Eliza crept forward, stalking in his shadow.
"I kill because I have to. Not because I want to." Valentine said. "Your mother lied to you. She built you a wonderful paradise where nothing bad ever happens and you have always lived in it peacefully, never knowing it was an illusion. Outside of the walls, peering through the glass, have been the demons. Waiting to pull you out of the lie."
"You." Clary hissed at him. "You tore through the wall and dragged me. Not demons. You." She pointed her finger at him.
"She has a point, you know." Eliza said from behind him. He swiveled around to face her. She took out Eosphoros and stood before him. His height always startled her, the massive size of her father. A giant in front of an ant. "You did kidnap her mom and leave a Drevak in her apartment."
His lip curled in discontent. "Jocelyn had something I needed." The Mortal Cup.
Eliza raised an eyebrow in question. "And the Drevak demon? An accident or was the flower shop all sold out?"
Valentine's eyes drifted to the short-sword and back to her face. His disappointment of a child, wielding the sword he had made for her, ready to use it against him. "Morning-bringer." He said quietly. "You would use my gift against me?"
She spun the sword in her hand, feeling the bite of the wind as the blade rushed past her arm. "I'll use all of my gifts against you. You did give me quite a few."
He put his hands up. "I never planned on harming the two of you. I need you unharmed." He told her.
She glanced back at Clary, who was frowning. "Why?" Clary asked. He moved aside so that they formed a triangle. He could see both of them clearly. He was aware of the danger of not watching one of them.
He clasped his hands in front of his body. "Your friends will track you down. I'll tell them that if they want the both of you alive, they have to hand over the werewolf girl."
Maia. Two Shadowhunters for a Downworlder. Clary said that they would never make the trade. Eliza lowered her sword. "Yes, they will." She told Clary. She thought of Jace. He wouldn't let Valentine keep her for longer than necessary. Not knowing how much she despised being in his vicinity. "It's the Law." She said. "The Clave requires that, should it happen, Shadowhunter lives are more valuable than that of a Downworlder."
Valentine nodded in agreement, pride gleaming in his eyes. "The Clave and I are not so different." He told them. "In fact, there is very little difference between all of us. Only in method."
Valentine moved forward, closer to Clary. Now the threat since Eliza had lowered her weapon. She had submitted, finally, to his will. Just as Eliza had hoped, Clary moved extremely quick, grabbing the Soul Sword and picking it up. She pointed Maellartach, the tip reaching towards Valentine.
Eliza smiled, raising her sword once more so that Eosphoros was also pointed at him. Right at his back. "Tsk, tsk, Father. Don't you know never to turn your back on the enemy? That was lesson number…seventeen, I believe."
The look of utter annoyance on his face made her heart skip a beat.
The euphoric feeling, however, didn't last for long. Eliza knew the pain of holding the Angel's Sword. She had seen it on Jace's face the previous night. And Jace was a hell of a lot stronger than Clary.
Clary gasped, the Sword falling from her grasp and clamoring to the floor. Before Eliza could even process it, Valentine had picked the sword up and was standing with it leveled in his grasp. Clary was looking down at her palm, a pained expression on her face.
"Clarissa, you must take me for a fool. You couldn't really believe I would let you near a weapon you could use, did you?" He sounded foul, disgusted, disappointed. She knew it all too well. "It seems as though, only one of my children understands the truth."
Clary looked at Eliza. "You don't mean Eliza. She hates you more than anyone." Clary told him. "And Jace. He hates you."
Valentine put the tip of the blade right at Clary's collarbone. "You've said enough." He said shortly. Eliza said a droplet of blood form at Clary's throat. "Tell me, Clarissa, did you mother ever speak of me? Did she ever tell you about your father?" He drawled. Clary said that Jocelyn had only ever said that her father had died. "She never told you that you were different? That you were special?"
Special. Different. Just as he had made them. Bred them. Forced them to be. Demon's blood in their veins, mixed with the Angel's blood. Black and white, Lucifer and Raziel. The Devil and the Angel.
"Do you know why she left me?" He asked. He was staring at her from across the Sword. Close, yet far.
"There was more than one reason?" Clary managed to half-laugh. Eliza admired the audacity.
Valentine did not. His eye twitched. "Your mother told me that I had turned her first born children into monsters. She thought she had left before I could do the same to the third one. But she was too late."
Monsters. The word resonated in her brain. The demon blood. She knew then why Jonathan was the way he was. His cruelty, the aggression, the evil. Why then, wasn't she?
"Father." Eliza spoke, desperately wanting to call his attention. She had her pleasing voice on. Soft, pliant, sweet as honey. He didn't turn. "Father." More demanding this time, her word clipped. But still he did not turn. "Father." Harsh, ice-cold. An order.
His head moved hesitantly, as if he did not want to turn but had no choice. His dark eyes seemed glazed, not quite there. They were wide, disbelief shining through. Her eyes had turned black, void and cold.
"My mother would never say that." Clary said, her words shaking. She was shivering. "Jace and Eliza aren't monsters. And I'm not either."
Eliza's own lip curled. "He doesn't mean J-."
The trapdoor above them fell open. Two dark figures fell through the hole, landing behind their father. He snapped out of the daze.
Eliza's breath caught in her throat. Jace. He held a steel strut in his hand, the jagged end covered in blood. And next to him was…Simon?
Clary shouted her best friend's name. Simon whipped around to look at her. Clary began crying. Valentine turned his head, taking in their company. The Sword dropped just an inch and Clary fell to her knees on the floor. She shook, her body raking with shivers as if she had gone in the snow for an hour with no overclothes on.
"What the hell did you do to her?" Jace asked.
Valentine stood straight, staring Jace down. "Nothing. Yet." He took in Simon's presence, a disgusted look on his face. "Jonathan, what have you done? Why is the revenant still alive? How did it manage to regenerate?" He spoke as if he already knew the answers to his questions. He wanted Jace to confirm them.
"You left me for dead." Simon snapped at him. Eliza was surprised at his vigor. He didn't sound like the old Simon.
Jace hissed at Simon to be quiet. He looked back at Valentine. "I let Simon drink my blood." He said simply.
She thought Valentine was going to drop the Soul Sword. She thought she was going to drop her own sword. Jace had let Simon drink from him? He hated him!
Her father looked pissed. "Willingly?" Jace glanced at Simon before he said yes. "What have you done?" He growled.
"He saved a life. The life of our friend." Eliza told her father. "He gave Simon life where you tried to take it away." Valentine said that Simon was a monster. A monster who would kill again and continue to kill until it was killed. Vampires, he reminded them, were always hungry.
Simon bared his fangs. They rested against his lower lip, a brilliant white. "Yeah, I'm hungry right now." Simon told him. "I could use another drink, but I think your blood would choke me."
Valentine's laugh was hollow. He pointed Maellartach at Simon. "When I take your life with the Angel's Sword, you'll burn."
Wordlessly, Jace, Eliza, and Clary all looked at each other. "The Sword isn't fully turned!" Clary shouted out. "He doesn't have Maia's blood yet!"
Valentine swiveled back to Clary, a treacherous smile on his face. He flicked his wrist and Clary fell. Her body rolled until it hit the wall. Simon started to run to her but Valentine swung Maellartach. Fire rose from the blade and Simon stumbled back.
"Kill the revenant, Jonathan. Kill it now and your transgression will be forgiven." Valentine ordered him, his eyes on Simon. Jace, in an eerily quiet voice, said no. Valentine's eyes hardened. "Take that weapon and shove it through his heart. You know where it is. I taught you." He was aggravated.
Eliza sheathed her sword. Jace had him distracted. She could take him. Tackle him from behind. Knock him down. But the Sword…He had the Sword. It didn't matter. She could take him. Her eyes lifted and her gaze met Jace's.
He knew her, knew her better than she wanted to admit. He saw the gears in her mind, the recklessness that the Fearless rune had brought about. He shook his head once, slow and subtle. Don't.
"I saw Agramon." Jace said suddenly. "It wore your face, Father." Valentine took a step towards Jace, the Sword wavering in his grasp. Valentine asked how he was alive. "I killed it."
He what? He had killed Agramon? The Great Demon. The Demon of Fear. Eliza stood, shell-shocked. Impressed.
"You managed to kill the Demon of Fear, yet you won't kill one vampire?" Valentine asked slowly, words full of anger. "I'm ordering you to kill it."
Jace wore the careless expression she had seen so many times. "His name is Simon." Jace informed him.
Valentine stood still, the Soul Sword pointed directly at Jace. If he moved to hurt him, Eliza would do what she did best. She'd throw a knife and land it in his skull. Maellartach glittered black, threateningly so. She wondered if he was going to stab Jace and if Jace was going to let him. "Does this mean that you haven't changed your mind?" Valentine asked. "The things you told me last night, those are your final words? Or do you regret your disobedience?"
What had he said? What was so important that it was being brought into the conversation? She wished she would have stayed but her anger had been too much.
Jace shook his head. His free hand was moving to his waist, towards his belt. He and Valentine were staring at each other, gold and black. "Yes, Father. I do regret my disobedience." Valentine's face softened and he looked at Jace a way he had never looked at her. That, she realized, was his caring face. Jace's gaze met her own. He nodded once. She slipped a knife into her hand. "I regret my disobedience in the manner that I'm about to do it again. Right now, actually." Jace's hand moved impeccably fast. He threw something through the air at Clary. It landed just inches from her, clinking against the metal floor.
Eliza looked, wondering what Jace could have thrown Clary. And then she saw it. Her stele. Her mouth broke into a smile.
"A stele, Jace?" Valentine laughed. "You've lost your mind."
Clary pushed herself up and grabbed the stele. Her face was agony and Eliza heard Valentine say Clary's name. He started towards her and Eliza loosed the knife. It whizzed past his face, landing in the wall.
"You missed." He said, staring at where the knife had landed. He was reaching to yank it from the wall when she took off running. She jumped from the floor and landing on him, her thighs around his neck. She reached back, yanking the knife from the wall. Tightening her thighs around his throat, she leaned down and shoved the knife into his leg. He yowled with pain as she pulled it out.
She released her legs, flipping back and landing on her feet in front of him. One hand clutched the wound on his leg and the other held the Soul Sword. "I never miss." She told him, wiping the blood on her shirt. She slid the knife back into the brace. The Fearless rune had burned away off her neck, leaving only a silvery scar of remembrance.
"A fool's errand." He told her. "I'll make you pay for that, Eliza."
She smirked back at him. "No. I accomplished exactly what I wanted." She said triumphantly. He asked her what that was. "I gave Clary time to make that." She pointed to the Mark that Clary had carved all over the wall. Dark ink was scrawled all over the wall.
Valentine's eyes trailed to the Mark on the wall. She watched his face melt into triumph, horror, despair, and delight. Simon asked what it said. "Mene mene tekel upharsin." Valentine said quietly.
Clary stood up. "No." She whispered. "It says open." At her word, the Marked wall seemed to scream. It shuddered, warping and tearing. Water began flowing into the room as the wall tore itself apart. Valentine was shouting, but the water drowned it out.
Clary ran towards them, but a surge of water knocked her over. Water pooled at Eliza's feet, cold as ice. The water dragged Clary out of the hole and into the river. Jace grabbed onto Eliza's wrist, only to let her know he was there.
And then the water sucked them out.
The East River water was darker than she had thought it would be. Jace's hand slipped away from her wrist as the water pulled them apart. Millions of tons of water pressed on her. She wanted to breathe but she couldn't. If she was going to die in the East River, that was fine. All she wanted was to see Jace one last time.
And then she was being pulled up, at least she thought it was up. She opened her eyes, the filthy water stinging. Gold, bright gold. The Angel, she thought, Raziel. And then it was gone.
She woke up in the bed of Luke's truck. Jace was leaning over her, muffled voices in the background.
"Thank the Angel." Jace breathed. "We thought you were dead." He gingerly pulled her into sitting position.
She looked around. Luke and Simon were looking at her. Snow was falling around them. It took her a second to realize that it wasn't snow- not in September- it was ash. It had coated Luke's hair. Next to her was Clary, unconscious. The bed of the truck had water in it, not quite up to Luke's ankles. Ash had fallen into the water, mixing in with, making the water a filmy white color.
She remembered the room in the belly of the ship. Stabbing her father. Clary creating an Opening rune that blew the ship apart. And then the water. And the Angel. Lifting her from the water and pulling her to safety.
"Where is he?" She asked, her eyes running over the bed of the truck frantically. He was nowhere to be found.
"Who?" Jace asked. "Valentine? We don't know."
She shook her head. She didn't care about Valentine. Where was Raziel? "The Angel." She coughed, a spurt of dirty river water coming from her mouth. She saw the look that Jace and Luke exchanged, both of them looking concerned. "Raziel." She stated. They stared back at her. "He was here, in the water. He pulled me out."
Jace leaned towards her. His tawny eyes were soft, unreadable. "How much river water did you drink, Liz?" He asked her. "The Angel wasn't here."
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Surely…surely the Angel had been there. He had pulled her out of the water, he had saved her. She didn't want them to think she was crazy. She looked down at Clary, still unconscious beside her. Ash was falling to her face, sticking against the water. Eliza reached over and wiped her face as clean as she could get it. "How long as she been out?" She inquired. Luke's words were strained as he told her she hadn't woken up since they pulled her out of the water.
The image of the river dragged Clary out of the ship flashed in her mind. She knew what he meant, the hurt behind his words. Clary could be dead.
Eliza's shoulders sagged. She pushed Clary's hair from her face. She looked so much like their mother. The same hair, vibrant and red. The same eyes, brilliantly green.
Wait. The same eyes? Clary's eyes were open, staring up at her. "Clary." Eliza breathed. She pulled Clary up into a squeezing hug. "Thank God."
Clary hugged her back limply before she pulled away. "Hi." Confused edged her voice and she rubbed her eyes.
Eliza grinned at her, tears burning her eyes. "Sorry." She said quickly. "It's just…I thought…" She didn't even want to say the words.
Clary asked what was wrong. "We thought you died too." Luke told her.
Too? Eliza looked at Jace. Who else had died? What had she missed while she and Clary had been locked away in Valentine's trap. She looked into the cab of the truck. Where was Magnus?
A sick feeling filled her stomach. She stood up, her head swimming. She rushed to the side of the truck and vomited. Jace said her name, his hand on her arm. She waved him away, telling him to put whatever Marks on Clary she needed to feel better.
Luke was standing next to her. "Are you okay?" He asked quietly. She shook her head, saying no. "Consequences of the Fearless rune or something else?" She looked over at him, asking how he knew about the rune. "Jace told me."
Of course he did. "Where's Magnus?" She asked in a soft voice. "Is he…?" She trailed off.
Luke said no immediately. She asked what happened and where Magnus was. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees. "Something set Valentine's ship on fire. There's nothing left, nothing but ash." She asked again about Magnus. "There are a lot of wounded Shadowhunters. He left to go help as much as he could on the boats. He's safe."
She nodded. Good. He was safe.
You can't get rid of me that easy, little dove. His voice was loud in her mind, jovial though she could sense the exhaustion.
Her heart surged. I was scared I'd lost you.
I'll see you soon, little dove. Worry not.
She looked back at the others. Jace had finished Marking Clary with iratze runes. "What about everyone else?" Clary asked. "Alec and Isabelle? Maia?"
Luke's face looked grim. What the hell had happened on the top level of the ship? "Malik and Imogen are dead." He reported. The Inquisitor? She seemed impossible to get rid of. "Both Isabelle and Robert Lightwood are injured. A lot of people are hurt and a lot are dead." He told them. "No one has seen Valentine so it's safe to say he's disappeared and taken the Sword with him."
Of course, her father had managed to escape with his life and the Angel's Sword while so many others, innocent Shadowhunters, had died fighting against him.
"If I hadn't used that rune, none of this would have happened." Clary said quietly. She averted her eyes to her feet, wet pieces of hair falling in her face.
Luke got up and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "It isn't your fault." He assured her.
Jace agreed. "Clary, if you hadn't done what you did, everyone would be dead. His army would have slaughtered everyone."
Luke nodded along. "You blew the ship apart. Literally. It tore itself apart, piece by piece. And then it caught fire. We all barely had time to jump. That was…no one has ever seen anything like what you did."
Probably because no other Shadowhunter parents had experimented on their children with demon blood, Eliza thought wearily. Clary was special, just as their father had told her.
She asked if she had hurt anyone. Jace said that the only ones hurt were the demons who had drowned when the ship went down, but all of the Shadowhunters who hadn't been killed by demons were okay. Clary wryly asked if it was because they could swim.
Jace glanced at Eliza, expression hard to read. "Nixies pulled us all out of the river. Turns out the Seelie Queen planned on keeping her word after all."
Eliza's stomach churned at the thought of the Seelie Queen, with her all-knowing eyes and cunning smile. "Who would have guessed?" She mused bitterly.
Simon noted that the Shadowhunter boats had started to move. Luke said it was time to go. He climbed over into the cab of the truck and started the vehicle. Within seconds, the truck was skimming along overtop the water and they were headed away from the ashy remnants of battle. Eliza held onto the edge of the truck to keep herself steady.
"You don't look good." Jace sat down next to her. She snorted, saying thanks. "I just mean that- never mind." He sighed. "Do you want me to fix it?" She didn't bother saying yes, she knew he would do it anyway. His fingers traced over silvery scars, looking for the place where her Healing rune rested. He found it in the crook of her left arm and took out his stele. It burned only slightly as he traced over the silver Mark, making it new again.
She was feeling much better by the time he had put his stele back away. "Thank you." She murmured, looking out to the river.
She felt his finger on her neck, where the Fearless rune had been. "It's gone." He observed. "Did you see him? Agramon?" She said no. "Then…?"
She looked back at him, green eyes bright as fresh Spring grass. There was a sad look in them. "Do you even have to ask?" He didn't respond. "Father. Tonight was the first time I've ever been in his presence without being afraid of him." She raised her hand to touch the faded Mark, their fingers brushing against each other. "I think it faded after I stabbed him."
Holy shit. She had stabbed him. She had actually managed to sink a knife in him without being hurt.
"That was so cool!" Simon exclaimed from across the bed. Both she and Jace looked at him. Clary was leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "I mean, you just threw it and when it went into the wall, all I could think was 'oh shit' but then you just took off running and you tackled him and how did you learn to do that? And then you stabbed him! And you did the coolest backflip. And then Clary made the ship explode!"
Eliza let out a quiet laugh. Clary asked what was going to happen to the Lightwoods since the Inquisitor was dead. Jace said he wasn't sure. "I just know they're going to be really interested in what you can do."
Simon's face was green, a little too sickly colored for a vampire. Clary asked what was wrong with him. "Running water and vampires aren't a good mix." He mumbled. Clary asked what happened to him after the ship blew apart. "Jace got me out of the water. There was a floating piece of metal and he got me onto it."
Was he going to throw up? She couldn't handle him throwing up too. "I've been thinking." Clary announced. Jace bemused that that was a dangerous thing in itself. She rolled her eyes. "Do you think…do you think that Valentine drowned?"
"No." Eliza said sharply. They each turned to look at her. Clary asked why she thought that. "Because he's a monster. He'll never die."
Simon said she was right. "You can't believe the bad guy is dead until you see the body." He added.
"If he was dead, the Mortal Instruments would have turned up by now." Jace said. "He's alive and he still has them." Jace looked past him to the reddening sky. "Sunrise." He noted, voice weary.
Eliza's head jerked up to look at Simon. Simon's eyes were on the horizon, watching the edge of the sun creep into view. Jace got to his feet and made his way to the cab of the truck. He bent over, speaking inaudible words into Luke's ear. Whatever he said made Luke turn back to look at Simon and then he turned his attention back to Jace. With a shake of his head, he turned around.
Her heart sank. Just as the truck jutted forward, spraying water on her face. Jace was shouting for Luke to make the vehicle go faster, as fast as he could.
Dawn was coming. It would be fleeting, only a few minutes. But that was all it took to end a life.
"We can cover you with our clothes!" Clary suggested, the hopelessness of her voice was thinly veiled.
Simon said it wouldn't work. Only walls could protect a vampire from the sunlight. Clary argued, saying there had to be something they could do to protect him. Simon embraced Clary, holding her tightly against his chest. She could hear their faint whispers to each other, Clary's rushed and afraid, Simon's calming and sure.
Eliza heard Jace shout something, but the word was lost in the roar of the truck's engine. Eliza looked up at the sky. The rising of the sun had turned it a pink-gold, replacing the dark red. The sun came into full view, golden light shooting through the sky.
She watched Simon's body still, Clary still hanging on to him. His head jerked back and she saw the bright molten gold of his eyes. His skin cracked with black lines. Clary screamed his name out.
Jace walked forward and grabbed Clary by the shoulders. She tried to struggle against him but he pulled her away from Simon, murmuring for her to look. Just to look at him. She begged him not to make her look. Jace tugged down at her wrists, gently forcing them away from her eyes.
He was alive. The sun was up and Simon was alive. The sunlight washed him in golden rays. Eliza exhaled softly. "By the Angel." She whispered. And she knew in her heart, Raziel himself had granted Simon the gift of survival.
She was finishing up her packing when there was a harsh rapping on her door. She tossed the pair of socks in her hand onto the bed and crossed the room. She opened the door, more than surprised to see Maryse Lightwood in front of her.
"Oh." She scrambled to find words. "Mrs. Lightwood, hi." She stepped aside, waving her arm back. "I was just finishing packing."
They stood awkwardly for a few moments. She looked behind her into the room. "May I?" He asked.
She nodded, stepping aside so she could walk into her room. Curiosity begot her as she looked around her room. It looked bare, most of her belongings piled onto the bed, packed away into suitcases, or away already at Magnus'. "I'm sorry if I sound rude but was there something you needed, Mrs. Lightwood?"
When she turned to her, she wore the kindest of expressions. It made her resolve falter just a little. "Eliza, you can call me Maryse. I've known you since you were a baby."
She added it to the list of things she didn't remember but wished she did. "Right, Maryse." She tried it out. Saying her informal name sounded…wrong. "I'm packing up to leave, so you and Robert don't need to worry about that. But I'm sure if the two of you spoke to Jace, you could talk him into staying."
She nodded, laughing softly. "I'm actually on my way to speak to him, but I thought I would stop in and check on you first." There was something unsettling to her kind words. "There's something I wanted to discuss with you." And there it was. You're a danger to our children. Cut off your contact with them. She was sure Jace would receive the same speech. "I've heard…things." She said slowly. "About your life, before you came here. I hope you'll forgive Alexander and Isabelle for sharing with Robert and me."
She locked her jaw. What had they told their parents? "What did they tell you?" She asked. "Izzy is so dramatic sometimes, I can only imagine what she said." She zipped up another suitcase, filled as much as it would go without bursting.
Maryse agreed with another light-hearted laugh. Then, he became incredibly serious. "I have a feeling what they've said is undeniably true." She stared back at her, asking again what they had told them. "I understand that some parents have different methods of disciplining children, Eliza. Perhaps I, sometimes, have been too hard on my children. But I know that what you suffered, what your father did to you, that wasn't discipline. It was torture. An exercise of his power, an extension of his malice. I know I misjudged you and didn't believe you earlier this week, but I hope that you understand it was because of extreme circumstances. I was looking out for my family."
So, that was what they had confided to their parents. She expected nothing less of Izzy and Alec. Both of them were great friends, caring and passionate.
"Nothing short of those things." She told her. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "You know, Jace told me that when he turned five, Valentine told him that he could have anything he wanted. And Jace, he wanted to take a bath in spaghetti." She relayed the story back to her. It seemed like so long ago that Jace had told her. "I thought for sure that Valentine would have laughed in his face, called him absurd and left him alone. But Jace said that he got that spaghetti bath." Maryse cleared her throat. "You know what I got for my fifth birthday? A smack in the face for speaking out of turn. I spent my twelfth birthday locked in a Malachi Configuration for unsatisfactory performance in training."
She was making her uncomfortable, she realized. She hadn't expected her to be so open about it. She honestly hadn't either.
"I am sorry to hear that." Maryse finally said. "Robert and I had a very long discussion about your circumstances and we would like you to know that, should you feel the need or want, you have a place in our home. Our family."
She certainly wasn't expecting that. She sat up straight. "That's very kind of you. Thank you, but you don't have to extend an invitation like that to me. You already have three children to care for, as well as Jace."
Maryse gave her a confounded look. "Eliza, we wouldn't extend the offer if we didn't mean it. It would do Isabelle some good to have another girl around, and I know how close you and Alexander are…" Her voice trailed, insinuating the unthinkable. The unimaginable.
"Oh, oh no." She smiled. "Alec and I aren't…we aren't-."
She cut her off. "I know that. It's only a thought. He holds you in the highest of regards. Perhaps if things with you and Mr. Kensley don't work out." She said. "Anyways, Max is also very fond of you. He even let it slip that he thought you were 'badass', though I can't imagine where he learned that word from."
"Izzy, most likely." She snorted and wasn't surprised that Maryse agreed with her.
"That reminds me of what I originally came to tell you. Mr. Kensley is outside of the Institute. He wishes to speak with you. It sounded very urgent."
Shit, she thought, I haven't spoken to him in forever. He's probably worried out of his mind.
She stood up, her pair of socks falling from her bed. "I'm a terrible girlfriend." She muttered. Maryse reminded her of her offer. "Thank you, again. It means a lot. I know how much Jace cares for you." She quickly excused herself.
She raced down the corridors and called up the elevator. It was an agonizing three-minute wait before it appeared. An even longer five-minute ride down to the foyer. She practically stumbled out of the elevator and out the front door.
She saw Declan standing on the sidewalk near the street. He seemed so…mundane, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, head turned up to the moon.
She slowed her pace as she walked toward him. "I'm sorry. I'm a terrible girlfriend. I should have called or had Magnus write you or something. This has been the most hectic and horrible day and I've had plenty of those, believe me."
He didn't say anything. He just pulled her into a hug, holding her head against his chest. "I'm just glad you're all right, my dear. I've been so worried." He whispered. "Are you hurt?" He pulled away, inspecting her face.
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I promise. Just exhausted."
He picked up her wrists, examining the marks still left by the cuff the Inquisitor had put her in. His caramel eyes flashed. "I'll kill that Inquisitor woman." He growled. In that moment, she could have sworn he was a werewolf. The only thing keeping her from believing it was his fangs pressed against his lower lip.
"She's dead already." She told him solemnly. "She died protecting Jace. She's paid for it, a hundred-fold."
Declan pushed the wisps of hair from her face. "I only wanted to come and see that you were alive with my own eyes." He kissed the top of her forehead. "Go and get some rest, my love."
She watched him walk away. He faded into the night, a shadow in the world of shadows, a Night Child vanishing into his night. Where he belonged.