City of Heavenly Fire
Chapter Forty-Four
December
Magnus? Come on, I know you can hear me.
Eliza, along with everyone else, was being cold-shouldered. She didn't blame him. Breaking up was hard enough without being tied to all of their friends. It was easiest to cut them all out of his life.
That particular stipulation had been hardest on her. She'd known Magnus longer than the others had. Without him, she would have been up the creek without a paddle. Several times. Magnus Bane was her savior. Her best friend. And now, she was nothing to him.
She'd come home after seeing Jace to a cold and silent apartment. All the lights had been off.
"Magnus? I'm home! Good news!"
He had appeared, swathed in a black robe. His dark hair was flat, eyes hollow.
"What's wrong?" She dropped her purse.
He pulled the robe tighter. "I broke up with Alexander." The story unfolded quickly. Alec had lied, sought out Camille, and had actually considered turning Magnus mortal. It was an unforgivable offense.
She crossed the room, enveloping him in her arms. "I'm so sorry." He let her hold him for a brief few seconds before stepping away from her. "What can I do?"
His yellow-green cat eyes swallowed her. In that moment, she knew whatever he was about to say, she wouldn't like it very much. "I need you to move out."
She hadn't been able to find a word to respond with. They stared at one another for a few minutes in uncomfortable silence.
"You remind me of him. And I know when Jace is here, it will get worse. Especially with your feelings bouncing around. I can't deal with that."
She understood that. All too well. But she hated the feeling that she was losing her best friend.
In the end, she'd hastily agreed to move out. But almost all of her thing were at Magnus'. Clothes, the little bits of makeup she owned, weapons, books. Her room at the Institute was barren.
Magnus' last gift of magic to her was a snap of his fingers, transporting all her stuff to her room at the Institute.
She hadn't seen him since.
Her mother wasn't very keen on Eliza residing at the Institute. After all, her boyfriend lived there. But what was she to do? Magnus had practically kicked her out and there wasn't another room in Luke's house.
Of course, Maryse promised to keep a watchful eye on them. Which wasn't working. One would sneak into the other's room after she'd gone to bed and be back in their own room before she woke the next morning.
She flipped a page in her book, smiling to herself as Jace critiqued Jordan's meditation technique.
Alec and Izzy were a few feet away from her, talking quietly on top of a cluster of large rocks. Jace's meditation wasn't mandatory, just strongly encouraged by his girlfriend. Jordan meditated to calm down the inner wolf (his words, not hers). The idea had been Simon's and upon hearing it, Clary suggested it to Eliza, who all but forced Jace to ask for Jordan's help.
His only condition was that she attend all sessions. They were two sessions in. The first had been…entertaining, to say the least. The heavenly fire heightened everything about Jace. He was never truly calm and any spike in adrenaline sent it over the edge. During the first session, he'd gotten so heated (literally) he'd burnt the floor.
All sessions were to now take place out of doors.
Which was how she ended up on a blanket in Central Park. A wooly coat was pulled around her, a scarf tied round her neck, a pair of knit gloves covering her hands from the cold. She even had another blanket thrown over her legs. Adjusting her book, she glanced over at Jace and Jordan.
Her boyfriend, not paying attention to instruction, was already staring at her.
She smiled and pointed at Jordan. Stay focused, her gesture indicated. He sent her a wink and turned his attention back to Jordan.
"Dude," Jordan groaned, "could you pay attention for longer than five seconds?"
Jace chuckled. "Sorry, man. I can't help that my girlfriend looks good."
He caught her eye as she looked over at him. He graced her with a dazzling smile. "Jordan," Eliza said, "you have my full permission to smack him."
Jace huffed, turning away from her.
"Next time." Jordan promised. He stood up, brushing dried grass from the back of his jeans. "I've got to meet Maia."
As Jace stood up, Simon and Clary entered the clearing. Clary was laughing at something he'd said, her head thrown back with a smile on her face.
Jordan gave Jace a stern look. "Practice the whole 'peace' thing for next time. No weapons or killing or demon talk."
Jace rolled his eyes and said he'd work on it. Jordan waved goodbye to Alec and Isabelle and said something to Simon in passing as he left.
Jace made his way over to Eliza. He knelt beside her, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "How's the book?"
She shrugged, closing it. "I'm sure it'll pick up." She laid it down on the blanket as he situated himself beside her. She gave him some of her blanket and scooted closer to him. He'd always been warm before, but the presence of the heavenly fire in his body kept his skin hot at all times. It felt good in the cold air of December. Even though the sun had managed an appearance, it wasn't doing a very good job of providing warmth. "You should really start listening to Jordan. He knows what he's talking about."
He picked up her hands, holding them inside his to warm them up. "If you weren't so distracting, I'd be fine."
"Distracting? I'm reading a book, making absolutely no noise!"
He grinned, kissing the backs of both her hands. "And you look beautiful doing it." She rolled her eyes. He was once again trying to use his charm to get out of something. "Seriously. You look like something from a painting, sitting here all bundled up with your book. I can't help but stare."
"Creep." She muttered, even though she was flattered. "I can stop coming, if it'll help you focus." It would be best to stop attending. Anything to keep him from bursting into flames.
He shook his head. "Then I'll just be worried about you. I promise I'll do better."
"Only if you promise." She agreed.
"I swear." He dropped her hands and gently cupped her chin, turning her face towards his. "Seal it with a kiss?" His hand was warm on the chill of her skin.
He really was corny. Kissing was now a carefully constructed art between them. An action that had once been passionate, heavy, and heated had been slowed to something quick and precisely managed. They both suffered, but Jace was adamant about not setting her on fire. Which she greatly appreciated, but she missed the time when they'd spent hours kissing. They'd had sex, but she didn't like dwelling on that. They'd both been under demonic influence and had agreed those times did not count.
But it was hard to forget.
Jace sealed his promise with a chaste kiss on her lips. His hand trailed down to her neck, pulling her closer. The moment he tried to deepen the kiss, a buzz of electric shock shot between them.
"Shit." She muttered, pulling away. She gingerly touched her lips. Jace was staring at her with a dejected face. She let her hand fall. "It's fine. It didn't hurt." She assured him. "Just shocked me is all." Her pun did not earn a laugh.
"I'm still working on the whole self-control thing." He told her. "Maybe we shouldn't kiss for a while. Until I have it under control."
Now that was a ridiculous thought. Who knew how long that would take? She had already spent too much time not being able to kiss him in the past. A little static shock wasn't going to stop her. "Jace, you are not going to set me on fire from a kiss. Besides, if it gets too much, I'll just jump in the pond."
That joke didn't earn a laugh, either. "You know what Clary said about the sword and the heavenly fire. It could really hurt you." It could kill you. He didn't have to say it for her to know he was thinking it.
If there's more Heaven than Hell. If not….
That's what Clary had relayed to them from Simon. The Angel himself had spoken the words. They were really about Jonathan, but that meant it applied to her as well. She wasn't really worried. She was more human than Jonathan would ever be. Surely, she'd be fine. It wouldn't kill her, just burn out the demon blood. And that wouldn't be a terrible thing.
Jace was not willing to take the chance, not even a little it seemed. Too much had happened to her as far as demonic forces went for him to even consider putting her in that kind of danger.
"I know." She mumbled. He gave her a sympathetic smile. He glanced behind them. Their friends were watching.
"Come on. Before they start recording." Jace stood up and pulled her to her feet. She left the blanket behind as they walked over to join their friends.
Alec was staring intensely at his phone. Jace sat down next to him, extending his arm so Eliza could lean into his side.
"What are you doing?" Eliza asked him pointedly. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously.
He said nothing, a little too quickly for her pleasure. Isabelle tore her attention from Simon. "Texting Magnus."
Jace looked at his phone over Alec's shoulder. His eyebrows shot up. "Not just texting, I see. You've been calling too."
Alec put his phone in his pocket, giving his sister and parabatai evil looks. He bit down on his chapped lip. A piece of the skin had torn, leaving a small spot of dried blood. "Today's his birthday." He told them. "I wanted him to know I didn't forget." His voice was small, a little broken.
Eliza's chest tightened. One, she hadn't known it was Magnus' birthday. Two, the situation was impossible. She'd known Alec before she had Magnus, but she'd known Magnus longer than Alec had. She had resolutely decided not to take sides. Which was increasingly difficult considering Alec was the only one speaking to her.
Happy birthday, Magnus, she tried again to reach out. She knew she wouldn't get a response.
"I pity your broken-hearted state of pining." Jace said. "It's sad."
Both Alec and Isabelle turned to him with surprised faces. Eliza raised her eyebrows at him. Clary wore a knowing smile. Simon seemed unfazed by Jace's declaration.
Alec rolled his eyes. "You have no room to talk, Jace." He told him. "You were way worse than me." Jace said he had absolutely no idea what Alec was talking about. Alec looked at Eliza and she shrugged. "Don't play dumb. 'Ugh, I hate her, why is she so stubborn. I think I'm in love with her, why won't she talk to me? Oh my, God, she kissed me! Oh, she's my sister, wait am I in love with my sister? What does Declan have-." Alec's verse on Jace's own pining took a sudden stop.
Eliza had visibly stiffened, her gaze locked on a tree. Jace was watching Eliza with careful eyes. They had never brought up the incident. Declan Kensley's name was never mentioned. It was too hard for Eliza to admit what Jace had done, to acknowledge that he could kill someone considered a friend. Someone she cared about.
Jace was too willing to admit it. He wanted the punishment for it. A punishment no one was willing to put on his shoulders because it "hadn't been him." Jonathan's control and influence on him had been the reason.
So, it went without mention. The only person outside of their little circle who was aware of the situation was Raphael. And he was sworn to secrecy.
"I'm sorry." Alec mumbled.
Eliza's eyes fell on him. There was a brief second of tense silence before she laid her head on Jace's shoulder. "It's okay, babe." She giggled. "I pined after you too."
Jace smiled meekly. The air around them felt stale. Alec glanced down at his phone, eyebrows drawn together in frustration. "All right, Alexander, hand it over." Jace held out his hand.
"What? No." Alec shook his head.
Eliza leaned forward and grabbed the phone from him. Jace had been right. Alec had called and texted Magnus several times. "Oh, Alec." She sighed quietly. Watching him suffer silently had been miserable enough. To see his vain efforts displayed so clearly was heartbreaking.
Jace grew closer to her. He was reading over the latest message. Not a birthday message at all. "Let me see." He said.
She handed him the phone. Hopefully, he'd delete Magnus' number and that would be that. But no, Jace always had to go the extra mile. He held Alec's phone open and bent the upper half back to the point it broke apart. He let the two pieces fall.
"Jace!" Eliza chastised loudly.
Alec's eyes traveled from his phone, to Jace, and back to the phone before he rested his murderous gaze on his parabatai. "Seriously? What the hell?"
Jace seemed very casual about the whole ordeal. "I'm your best friend, your brother, and your parabatai, therefore I cannot let you succumb to this. It's a rule, I'm not allowed to let you keep calling your ex-boyfriend."
"And that meant breaking my phone?" Alec's voice thundered. "It was brand-new."
Jace shrugged, leaning back on the rock. Isabelle said there was a bright side to it. Their mother wouldn't be able to try to contact him anymore. Simon asked why they were avoiding her, as Isabelle had mentioned she'd turned her phone off to evade Maryse's many texts and calls. "Usual post-battle stuff, but way more intense." Isabelle said off-handedly. "The Clave won't let anything fly by on this. They want to know exactly what went down at the Burren. Why Eliza stabbed Jace, how he's practically made of heavenly fire now. What the Dark Shadowhunters looked like, did we recognize any of them, what did their runes and weapons look like. And the Infernal Cup." She made a remark about phone sex that made Simon look away.
The Infernal Cup. That was what they were calling it. A near exact replica of the Angel's Cup. Except it was black and demonically powered. By Lilith and her gross blood. No one knew where Jonathan had run off to with the cup during the battle. They only knew that he was on the run. And apparently, he was coming.
So said the grisly message he had left at the Institute. The wing of an angel, cut and torn, coated in thick, golden blood. He'd even been kind enough to leave a note: Erchomai.
I am coming.
When he did, they'd be ready.
She was alone.
Jace had gone on some mission to convince Magnus to take Alec back. Isabelle and Alec were at a meeting at the Institute, to which she did not want to attend.
Clary and Simon were out Christmas shopping, something she was not allowed to attend because her gift was one being bought. In fact, no one but the two of them were allowed to go, as they were buying everyone's gifts. In truth, she hadn't wanted to go anyway because she didn't know how to celebrate Christmas.
Her father had not been too keen on celebrating holidays. He thought they were trivial and mundane. They hardly observed the day when Jonathan Shadowhunter had been gifted the Mortal Instruments from the Angel Raziel. That day always earned a small dinner and a speech from Valentine about the importance of his mission, how vital it was to reveal the corrupt nature of the Clave. Birthdays were the allowance. It was easy, there was only one day to celebrate since she and Jonathan shared a birthday.
His gifts had been practical and disturbing. Hugin and Munin, knives. The short-swords.
Now, she was expected to celebrate Christmas.
That seemed like a lot to ask of her.
The Lightwoods weren't planning a Christmas party at the Institute. After everything that happened in the past few months, and Max's death, they weren't in the mood to plan anything.
Alec appeared in the doorway of her room.
"Alexander, I'm honored for the appearance." She drawled, sitting up in her bed. Her book was boring her, and she really was thankful for his arrival. But the grim look on his face said she should not be. "What happened?"
"You're being summoned. You're needed. Or wanted, I'm not sure. They told me to come get you."
She hastily removed herself from the comfort of her bed. She didn't like the sound of being summoned by the Conclave. That usually meant bad news.
If they kicked her out the Institute, where the hell was she supposed to stay? She couldn't exactly get her own place to live. She didn't have any money.
She slipped on a pair of boots and let Alec lead the way. He remained silent, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Eliza, so carelessly, slipped her hand in his and gave it a small squeeze. It was a simple action, something she'd done with Isabelle and Clary, probably even Simon, before. He looked down at her, but she was staring ahead.
"I miss him." He said in a deadly quiet voice.
"I know."
He led her to the library. From outside the cracked door, she heard the flow of voices. It was more than a few.
Alec went to push open the door, but she jerked him back. "What am I walking into, Alec?" She whispered. "What didn't you tell me?"
"There was an attack on the Clave."
He said nothing else before opening the door.
Heads whipped around and several pairs of eyes landed on her. She knew exactly what they saw when they looked at her. Who they saw.
"The sins of the father." She muttered. And now, the brother.
The first face she landed on was her mother's. Clary was next to her and Luke on her other side. The largest part of the library had been cleared to make room for a large circular table. Members of the Conclave occupied the seats surrounding the table. Eliza didn't know many of the members by name.
Maryse Lightwood was standing at what could be considering the head of the table. Her steel gaze landed on Alec and Eliza. "Thank you, Alexander." Alec nodded. "Eliza, have you received any contact from your brother?"
Her mouth parted. All she could do was stare back at Maryse. "N-No." She stammered. She regained herself and straightened her shoulders. "What has he done?"
"Sebastian Morgenstern has attacked six of our Institutes. Bangkok, Los Angeles, Berlin, Moscow, and more. He left no survivors until the most recent on Los Angeles. Only the Blackthorn children managed to get out alive." Maryse explained to her.
Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. "And someone thinks I helped him." She said bluntly.
"No one said that." Maryse said quickly.
That didn't mean they weren't thinking it.
No matter how many times she explained the raw hatred for her brother, someone was always going to doubt her.
"He wasn't alone." Her attention snapped from Maryse to the side of the room. She hadn't noticed Jace sitting in the chair against the wall. He gave her a reassuring smile. "The Endarkened were with him."
His demonic Shadowhunters. Jonathan was powerful, he was strong, but not strong enough to attack six Institutes on his own. He would have needed help, some kind of upper hand. The Endarkened provided that. With Lilith's blood, they were stronger than normal Shadowhunters. Faster. More dangerous.
"We didn't expect this." Maryse told them. "We expected an attack on Alicante. Not the slaughter of innocent Shadowhunters."
"I told you." Jace said in a low voice. "I told you he would do exactly what you didn't expect." He stood up and crossed the room to stand by Eliza. He wrapped his arm around her waist. "So, what now? Has the Clave called another meeting?"
Maryse, in a sharp voice, said no. There was not another meeting. "We've been ordered to evacuate the Institute immediately. All Institutes are being evacuated, every Shadowhunter is being called back to Idris." She looked around the room. "The Clave will be doubling the wards around the home country. After tomorrow, no one will be able to enter or leave Idris."
From the furthest part of the table, Isabelle made eye contact with her mother. She asked when they had to leave.
"Tonight."
"All packed?" Jace was standing in the doorway of her room. For once, the room looked impeccably clean.
She'd had to spend an hour putting all her belongings in their proper places before tearing through to decide what should go and what could stay behind. She knew that she'd be coming back, but the problem was figuring out when that would be.
In the end, only half her closet was making the trip. If she needed more clothes, she could always buy them. All of her knives were folded into her clothes, her sword tucked into the folds of her favorite white dress.
"I suppose." She huffed. Both her bags were already taken away, waiting for her to follow. She fell back on the bed. Something squalled from under the pillow where her head landed. Church darted out from under the pillow, sending her a glowering look. "Oh, don't be like that. Come here, handsome."
At the same time Church hopped over onto her stomach, Jace launched himself on the bed, landing next to her.
"I meant the cat." She laughed at him as she scratched Church's back. Jace rolled his eyes and made a comment about her liking the cat more than him. "Well, he was my first friend here." She teased, but her smile had faltered. She turned to face the ceiling.
"What are you thinking?" He murmured. His hand reached and he twirled a piece of hair around his finger.
Her face turned and her eyes fell on him. "I don't want to go." She sighed, letting Church go. He nestled a spot between them, resting his head in Eliza's open palm. "I know we have to, but I don't want to."
"Idris is home." Jace reminded her.
It was a good place, a home for all Shadowhunters. But not her. She'd lived there for seventeen years and never felt the way she did when she was in New York. In the greenhouse among the morning glories, curled on the couch with Magnus watching trashy reality television, eating dinner with her family at Luke's.
Idris was full of memories that left a foul taste in her mouth.
"No." She countered. "This is home. This was the first place I ever felt safe. The first place I ever felt really loved."
Jace sat up, disturbing the cat. Church forced upon him a murderous look before jumping off the bed and stalking out the door. "You aren't leaving alone, Liz. Your family is going, you're going to be safe. And I promise, you're going to be loved."
"What if we never come back?"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up beside him. "Then we never come back." Her eyes narrowed at his lack of comfort. "But that doesn't mean everything won't be okay. Idris is going to be the safest place for us after tomorrow. If we have to stay, we have to stay. Building a life there wouldn't be so bad, would it? A family?"
The comment earned half a smile from her. After everything, it was good to know he still saw a future with her. A family.
"I dreamt it like that." She admitted. "Raising a family in Idris, with you. And our families being there for all of it."
Jace grinned, his chipped incisor winking at her. "You did?" She nodded. "Tell me about it."
And she did. All of it. Their wedding, four kids (at which Jace gawked), a lifetime of happiness and love.
Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed her. At first, it felt like old times. And then he shocked her. Quite literally, a spark passed from his lips to hers.
"Sorry." He pressed the pad of his thumb to her bottom lip. He glanced to the door. "We should head down. They're probably about to send a search party for us."
Hopefully while they were in Idris, the Silent Brothers would find a way to get the heavenly fire out of Jace's system. Or maybe it would just disappear on its own.
By the time they got down to the Portal, most of the Conclave had already passed through and Simon had arrived to say his goodbyes. He and Clary were off on their own, talking quietly.
She felt a familiar prickle in her mind and her hand fell from Jace's.
"What's-?"
He didn't get to finish his sentence. Eliza's gaze was set straight ahead, her green eyes wide. Magnus was standing by the gate, conversing with Clary and Simon. He looked different. Perhaps it was the exchange of glamorous and flamboyant outfits for dark-washed jeans and a dark colored t-shirt. Or maybe it was the pure melancholia of his energy.
Jace nudged her forward. The only person outside of Alec and Magnus' relationship that was suffering from the breakup was her. "Go. I'll be right here."
She darted off, intercepting Magnus before he could reach Alec. "Little dove." His voice was dull and dry. "Leaving me again for the home country?"
The urge to hug him got the best of her and she threw her arms around him. He was still before his own arms wrapped around her waist. "If I remember correctly, you kicked me out." She choked on her own laugh. He still smelled the same, even if the faint odor of old Chinese food still clung to him. "By the Angel, Magnus, have you been eating anything other than Kung Pao chicken?" She pulled away, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
He shrugged. His eyes moved behind her before he turned his attention back. "I brought you something."
Her eyebrows shot up. "And here I thought you were only here for Alec."
Magnus frowned. "Don't be coy, Eliza." He snapped his fingers and a thick, square piece of black fabric materialized in his other hand. "It's wool, the good kind." He told her as she ran a hand across the black material. "From some animal in Peru called a vicuna."
She'd never heard of it. The fabric was soft and felt warm. She gave him questioning look and he nodded. She took it and let it open it. It was a cloak, longer made to reach her knees. It was lined in gold thread. The clasp was shaped into a small gold dagger, the blade buckling into the hilt. The sword was impeccably detailed with a small falling star down the little blade. There was even a pair of faerie wings etched onto the hilt.
"Magnus…" She breathed.
It was beautiful.
"Only the best for you, my little dove."
She clutched the cloak to her chest and glanced behind her. Alec was talking to his mother and had not yet noticed his ex-boyfriend's arrival. When she looked back at Magnus, he was still looking at Alec. Had their pining not been so mutually pathetic, she would have felt bad for them. "Go on." She touched his shoulder. "He misses you."
Magnus hesitated. Eliza gave him a gentle push in Alec's direction. She watched him approach Alec. Maryse saw him before Alec and took her leave. Maryse Lightwood was adjusting to Alec's sexuality far better than her husband.
Jace was still where he had been, true to his word. Eliza went back over to him, showing off her new cloak.
"Magnus continues to show me up, I see."
"You're only jealous he didn't get you a going away gift." She teased him.
Jace rolled his eyes. He took the cloak from her. "Here. Let me put it on you." She turned around and he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. His thin fingers were slow and sure as he secured the clasp. "There." His hands moved up to her shoulders.
He spun her around, steadying her where their noses barely brushed against one another. She inhaled the smell of him. As of late, there was always a thin layer of sweat mostly covered by sandalwood and honey.
"Thanks." She breathed.
He was leaning in when Maryse called for them. Jace's eyes darkened, annoyed at the interruption.
She would have been as well, had she not known what would happen. They would kiss, she'd be electrified by the shock of heavenly fire passing from his lips to hers. Jace would feel guilty. It would be a repeat cycle of the past couple weeks.
"Time to go." She said. His hands fell from her shoulders and he took her hand.
Her mother and Clary stepped through the Portal after Luke. Alec and Isabelle, hand in hand, went through, followed by Maryse.
Simon was standing a little way from the Portal, his back to the Institute. Eliza waved half-heartedly to him, a wave of pity flowing through her. He was being left behind by his girlfriend (if they were officially dating, she never knew with Izzy) and his best friend. At least, she assured herself, Magnus was still around, and Simon had Jordan and Maia.
Her gaze shifted, eyes traveling over the Institute. All stained-glass windows and gothic spires. Home, her heart tightened.
Ever so slightly, Jace tugged on her hand. She turned away to face the Portal, blue surges of magic too bright for her eyes. "It's okay." Jace whispered. "We'll be back."
They stepped through and she didn't think she believed him at all.
Her family was staying in Amatis Herondale's house, which she found weird. And extremely creepy. The last anyone had seen her, she'd become one of Jonathan's Endarkened Shadowhunters. No one had any clue as to how she'd been captured. Her house was spotless, the examiners sent by the Council had found nothing.
It was, in her good opinion, a nice house. She'd barely seen any of it during her last trip to Idris. It was what she imagined a good family home to look like. A fireplace in the living room, photos decorating each room. It was homey. Lived in. Warm.
She and Clary were sharing a room. Amatis' house only had two bedrooms, the master and the spare. The spare room only had one bed, but Luke assured them he would try to trade it in for two beds, so the two sisters didn't have to share a bed.
Clary was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes trained on her sketchpad, but every so often looked up to the circular windows.
"What's this?" Eliza pressed the toe of her shoe against the trunk at the foot of the bed.
Clary looked up from her sketching. She leaned over the foot of the bed. "Clothes, mostly. I think they're Amatis' old clothes from when she was younger." Clary went back to her drawing. "Old school uniforms, a wedding dress, stuff like that."
A wedding dress? Wedding gowns weren't meant to be stored in trunks. Eliza knelt down and unlatched the trunk. There were pieces of clothes, stored away with careful precise. Each layer was separated by a thin piece of paper. Amatis had kept her old uniforms from the Shadowhunter Academy, among other more casual styles. At the very bottom was a dress, made from a white material. A matching white jacket was folded around it. Sewn into the dress were the silver runes for mourning.
"Clary," Eliza spoke softly, "this isn't a wedding dress." She held the dress carefully in her hands.
Clary looked back over. "Sure, it is. It's white."
Eliza, under other circumstances, would have smiled at her sister's lack of understanding of Nephilim customs. "White isn't a wedding color for Shadowhunters. It's the color for mourning."
She examined the dress. Now, the silver runes stuck out against the white fabric. On the cuff of each of the sleeves was sewn a faint design.
Herons, she realized.
A sour taste filled her mouth.
"Amatis wore this to Stephen's funeral." Eliza observed quietly.
A woman wearing the dress of a widow to the funeral for the man of whom she was no longer married. She would have stood off, away from the crowd. Unnoticed, nearly invisible.
Her fingers traced over the heron birds, her mouth suddenly dry.
"Hey, what are you two-.?"
Jocelyn was in the doorway, her eyes on the funeral dress in her oldest daughter's hands. Eliza looked up, blinking back tears.
"Oh, my." She entered the room and sat down next to Eliza. "I can't believe she kept this."
"It was the worst day of her life, wasn't it?" Eliza asked.
Jocelyn nodded. "Amatis never moved on from Stephen."
Eliza remembered the box of his things that Amatis had gifted Jace. A dagger, some photos, letters. Letters Stephen had written to his ex-wife. "He never got over her, either." Eliza said duly. "He still wrote her, after he married Celine."
Jocelyn frowned. "We do love strongly, terrifyingly so." She took the dress from Eliza's hands. "Nephilim have the hearts of angels. Cursed to endure every pain of being human, but never to heal from it." She said her tutor from when she was young had once told her that. Clary noted that it was a morbid way to think. Jocelyn agreed with her, still staring at Eliza. "But some of us are cursed that way, I believe. To love, truly love only once in a lifetime, enough so to die of a broken heart." She put the dress back over the trunk and reached to tuck a piece of Eliza's hair behind her ear. "Which is why I worry about you so much. You have the heart of an angel."
And the blood of a demon, she added bitterly.
Jocelyn got to her feet and reorganized all the clothes back into the trunk. Once again, the mourning dress was tucked away at the bottom of the trunk, stored deep as a bad memory. "You should wear white tomorrow, to the meeting."
"Why?" Clary asked.
"Nephilim have been lost. Whether they've died or been turned into Endarkened, each one gone will be mourned as if they're dead." Jocelyn told her. She walked from the room to the door. "Try and get some sleep. And," she gave Eliza a pointed look, "no sneaking out. Please."
Clary stifled a laugh.
Eliza stood up and gave her mother a nod. "Since you said please." Jocelyn bid them both goodnight and shut the door softly.
"Are you really not going to go see him?" Clary asked her.
She said no. As much as she wanted to be near him, she couldn't stand to look at him so soon after seeing a pattern of herons on a dress made for mourning. If things had been different, she could have worn a dress just like that.
It was only an hour after they turned off the lights and Clary had resolved to sleep, that her sister woke up. Eliza had stayed awake, unable to find any peace in sleep.
"You're still awake." Clary observed, turning on the witchlight lamp that sat on the bedside table.
Eliza was sitting in the floor by the foot of the bed. "I have trouble sleeping in new places. It'll take me a couple nights."
Clary got up from the bed. "Hungry?"
"Famished." Eliza got up. She hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, which had been a quick affair that occurred around seven thirty.
The two sisters left their shared room and walked their way down the dimly lit hallway. They were quiet on the stairs in fear of waking Jocelyn or Luke. Mostly, though, their mother. And while the living room was empty, they both heard the set of voices coming from the kitchen.
"Is that what I think it is…?" The voice belonged to Luke.
"Yes." Jocelyn replied, her voice uneasy and stringent. "I haven't seen it in ages. I don't know how it ended up here."
Eliza grabbed Clary by the wrist, holding her back. She pressed her index finger to her lip, signaling for Clary to stay quiet.
"Clary said Jonathan took it." Luke said.
Jocelyn huffed. "Then it should have been destroyed, along with everything else in that apartment." She snapped at him. "But it's here."
Clary had, on the day of Jonathan's ritual to create his Endarkened, destroyed the interdimensional apartment. They had no idea how Jonathan was getting around, especially how quickly he seemed to move.
Whatever the item was, it belonged to Jocelyn. Many of her items had been stolen by Valentine and kept in the apartment. After everything, he still thought she would come back to him. He'd kept clothes for her, art materials stolen from her apartment in Brooklyn, pieces of her jewelry.
"Valentine is gone, now." Luke told her. "He's dead."
Eliza and Clary poked their heads around the corner. The two adults were huddled beside each other at the small kitchen table.
"But Jonathan isn't." Jocelyn reminded him. "He's out there somewhere. Watching. Waiting." How much did it pain her, to have a son like him? How much did it hurt to grow something in your stomach for nine months and have it come out as Jonathan?
Eliza realized how lucky she was. She'd barely made it by the skin of her teeth. Whatever happened, whatever event occurred to give her humanity and Jonathan none, she was thankful for it.
"Every year, on their birthday, I'd lock myself in my room. April fourth, without fail. I'd wake up and it would hit me. The twins, I'd tell myself. I kept a box for each of them, something I'd done before…everything." Jocelyn's words grew wistful, airy and far off. "I had a photograph with each of them. A lock of Jonathan's hair from his first haircut. God, he screamed like a demon." She laughed crossly. "And Eliza's rattle. It belonged to Seraphina. Valentine had it engraved for Eliza after they were born." She heard the ragged sounds of Jocelyn's breathing. "We never expected a second baby, not twins. All the healers had been sure of one child and that it was a boy. And when they were born, Valentine was ecstatic. I hadn't seen him so thrilled in ages. Now, now I know why."
Eliza swallowed and ducked back around the corner. She rested her head on the wall, taking a quiet breath. A normal father would have been happy for two children. He was happy for two soldiers.
"With Jonathan, I always knew something was wrong with him. He never cried. Babies always cry." Jocelyn continued on. "He hated being held. She was different, Eliza was. She cried, often. Mostly because of Jonathan. There was one time they were playing in the garden and Jonathan pushed her into a beehive." Luke said nothing on the matter. Clary was watching Eliza, green eyes shadowed. "On their birthday, I'd look at those photographs and I'd wish for them to be with me. I would imagine a little boy who could laugh and play with his sisters, a smiling little boy with green eyes. And I always saw Eliza, fiercely protective of Clary and they'd be thick as thieves."
That version of Jonathan, the one Jocelyn had dreamt up and imagined, had never existed. He would never exist.
"At least," Luke finally said, "your dream about Eliza came true." Clary reached and grabbed onto Eliza's hand. Thick as thieves. "But you have to tell the Clave about this. The box didn't just show up."
Jocelyn made a frustrated noise and said she would rather burn the box. "All of this is my fault, Luke." She said. He asked how any of it could be her fault. She hadn't poisoned Jonathan in the womb or raised him into what he was. "I didn't kill him when I had the chance." Luke reminded her that up until recently, Jonathan and Jace had been bound to one another. She wouldn't have killed Jace like that. "No, I mean when he was a baby. I should have killed Jonathan when he was a baby." Her words were spoken with a bitter finality. She meant every word.