In the time since she had last been in Alicante, the Gard had been remade. Not completely, but enough that it seemed newer. The gates were new, the old ones having been destroyed in the attack. The Council's symbol shone in the bleak sunlight. Adamas always did react strangely to light.
"What are each of the C's for?" Eliza quizzed her sister as they approached the Gard.
Clary thought for a moment. "Council, Covenant, Clave, and Consul." She answered.
"Good." Eliza nodded.
Each C housed a symbolic icon for the four species of Downworlders. The Fair Folk were paid homage with an arrow, vampires with a star, werewolves a crescent moon, and warlocks with a spell book.
Soon enough, all Shadowhunters would be gathered in the Gard for a Council meeting. All for her brother.
"Are you nervous?" Clary whispered.
Many of the Nephilim wore white, in memoriam of those who had been lost.
Clary had opted for the white jacket that had been paired with Amatis' mourning dress. Eliza herself had chosen a long white dress with a high neck and sleeves that clung to her arms, paired with a belt shaded in the ceremonial red of the Nephilim.
A Shadowhunter walked past them, a woman, maybe older than Jocelyn. She shot Eliza a venomous look before disappearing in the crowd. The woman had not been the first to shower her with judgement, and she wouldn't be the last.
Eliza turned away. "Why would I be nervous?" She grumbled. "It's not as if I'm walking into the lion's den."
Clary gave her a sympathetic look. There was a difference, a universal truth beholden between the two sisters. Both bore the burden of having Jonathan has a brother, but there was an inherent social danger in being his twin. Clary had the cushion of being raised mundane, by her mother. Eliza was not so lucky.
On the path leading up Gard Hill, she spotted the Lightwoods among the others. Maryse and Robert walked ahead of their children, as far apart as social standards could allow without raising outside suspicion. Their children followed, Isabelle nestled between Alec and Jace.
All five of them wore the white color of mourning.
Max, Eliza told herself, as if she could ever forget. Alicante was the last place he'd been alive. The last place he had breathed and been held by his family.
As she watched them walk up, Jace's gaze found hers. He broke from his family, gesturing at her to Isabelle. Isabelle nodded thoughtfully before he began his movement through the crowd. They parted for him as the Red Sea had for Moses. He was special among Nephilim standards, and not just because he was an exemplary Shadowhunter.
He was a Herondale, but the son of a Morgenstern. The hostage of Jonathan (most called him. Sebastian but she couldn't bring herself to it, he would always been Jonathan to her), freed from a demonic binding by a blade sent from Raziel himself.
As he grew closer to her, more and more eyes found themselves glued to both of them.
"Hi." He greeted she and her sister. His eyes flitted over their clothes. "Wearing white?" Clary pointed out his own attire. "Touché."
Eliza looked behind him. So many people were staring at him. At her. And the meeting hadn't even started yet.
"Liz." Her name sounded like an angel's song coming from him.
"Everyone's staring." She said quietly as her eyes found him.
He smiled, hooking his hand in hers. "Only because you're so beautiful. You look like a snow angel."
She rolled her eyes but appreciated the compliment and the effort. Jace wasn't oblivious. He knew everything that happened around him. She knew his ears had prickled at the comments made about him. "That's not why they're staring, and you know it."
He pulled her along towards the Gard. "Well, that's why I'm staring."
It was enough to make her smile and push all thoughts of pariah-ness from her mind.
"Liz, we should probably...you know…tell him…?" Clary's eyes darted around them. Jace asked what she was talking about.
In the hustle and bustle of the morning, Eliza had forgotten about the overheard conversation between Luke and Jocelyn the previous night. The mysterious appearance of Jonathan's baby box. Clary and Eliza relayed the event to him and Clary confirmed seeing the box on the table, recognizing it as the one her mother had kept for her son.
"But Sebastian took it. He had it in the apartment." Clary told Jace. "How could it have gotten in the house?"
"The only reason Sebastian turned Amatis was to hurt Luke and your mom." Jace sad to them. "I remember when we were b- when I was with him." He glanced at Eliza, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were focused on the movement of the crowd. "Before we went to the Burren, he told me he was going to come to Alicante and take a Shadowhunter. He never said who, but now we know it was Amatis."
"Which means," Eliza looked back at Clary and Jace slowly, her eyes dark, "my brother planted the box. He knew that Mom and Luke would find it eventually." She was growing more accustomed to referring to Jocelyn as Mom. "And he knew, he knows, how much seeing it would rattle Mom."
A high-pitched bell rang out through the air and the gates to the Gard opened. Somehow, the three of them ended up with both their families in the jostling crowd. The walk through the Gard was solemn and silent. The stone fortress had never felt less welcoming, under the circumstances and the cold winter air.
The large mass of Shadowhunters found themselves in the Council chamber, a long room located at the end of a long corridor. The Consul, Jia Penhallow, greeted the mass as they entered the chamber.
The chamber itself was a massive amphitheater, built to hold a group of gigantic proportion. The seating was compromised of rows of benches looking out at the raised dais. The dais housed two podiums. The Consul would stand at one and the Inquisitor at the other. Behind the podiums sat a chair for each of the Downworld representatives on the Council. Each chair had a branded symbol for its specific Downworlder. There, in front of everything, was a long table covered by a midnight blue table cloth made of velvet. On top of the table was a sword. Maellartach.
The Mortal Sword.
Eliza's chest tightened.
The windows behind the dais overlooked the city. The demon towers glistened in the distance.
"I'll see you later." Robert Lightwood broke from his family to take his place at the dais. Behind the Inquisitor's podium.
Her family followed the Lightwoods down an aisle of benches. Had it been an official Council meeting, Luke would have taken the seat on the dais reserved for the werewolf representative. But instead, he sat by Jocelyn.
Eliza glanced around the room as she settled into her seat, squeezed between Clary and Jace. Alec sat on Jace's other side and Jocelyn on Clary's. The room was nearly filled, even though more Shadowhunters were still coming through the door. When Consul Penhallow took her stance at the podium, the room grew silent.
"The Council will now come to attention." She spoke acutely and clearly. Her voice projected through the chamber. The beginning of the meeting drew the audience forward. Those, at least, who had no clue what was going on. "Several of our Institutes have been attacked in the recent days. One after another before the previous could be reported. The respective Conclaves of Bangkok, Berlin, Buenos Aires, Los Angeles, Moscow, and Oslo have been Turned." Quiet tension, thick and suffocating, grew in the room. "Those who were capable fighters, I mean." Jia spoke again. "The Shadowhunters who were too old or young were killed."
A murmur passed through the crowd. Not many knew of what had occurred at the Burren. Of what Jonathan Morgenstern had done. What he had created.
"What do you mean 'Turned'?" A woman closer to the dais asked. Something shimmered on her cheek, a brazen tattoo of a koi fish. "Were they not slain with the others?"
Consul Penhallow's eyes seemed to find Eliza in the crowd. "No." She said in response. "When I say 'Turned', I mean that Jonathan Morgenstern- Sebastian Morgenstern, if you will- has Turned Shadowhunters from seraphic beings into demonic ones."
The name made the room buzz. Eliza saw no eyes on her, but she felt them. She kept her eyes locked forward, her jaw tightened. Jace was still holding her hand, his thumb running circles over the back of her hand.
Someone called out that Shadowhunters didn't raise arms against other Shadowhunters.
That was the thing though. These were no longer Shadowhunters. Their Marks had faded after drinking from the Infernal Cup.
She heard her brother's name, mixed into a conversation with her father's. A man two rows ahead turned and met her eye. She swallowed, looking back to Consul Penhallow on the dais. She was notifying the mass of the nearly dead Endarkened that the Silent Brothers were examining.
A flicker of movement at the edge of the dais captured her attention. Brother Zachariah stood with his hands clasped in front of him. Helen Blackthorn, dressed in white, stood beside him.
Our allies in the Spiral Labyrinth are searching tirelessly for a cure, his level voice echoed through the room, ringing in the heads of all the Shadowhunters. His piece earned a negative comment about warlocks from someone in the crowd.
Another, a woman with pale white hair, inquired if the Endarkened- Kriegsmesser- could be interrogated. Brother Zachariah's answer filled the heads of everyone: there could be no interrogating the Endarkened. He was barely conscious and his allegiance lay completely and totally to Jonathan.
"Can he be killed?" The woman with the facial tattoo asked out. "Sebastian Morgenstern. They say he cannot be killed."
Eliza shifted in her seat. "Anyone can be killed." She commented.
It had been something she meant to say in her head, or barely under her breath. But the words came out a little too loud.
"What was that?" Consul Penhallow looked out to the crowd, her eyes searching.
Several turned to look at Eliza. A murmur swept through the room.
"…Morgenstern girl…"
"…Demon blood, they say…"
"Is she a spy?"
"She's probably working for her brother…"
She clenched her jaw. Her grip on Jace's hand tightened. "I said," she spoke loud and clear, "anyone can be killed."
Jia Penhallow's eyes found her. "Even the Devil?" Koi tattoo asked sharply.
A dark smile played over Eliza's lips. "My father is already dead. We burned him and everything." The woman insisted that she meant Sebastian. Eliza scoffed. "My brother isn't the Devil. Valentine was. The Devil creates monsters, demons to carry out his plans and run the roost long after he's gone. Jonathan is just one of those demons."
It shut the woman up. Jia nodded curtly, ending that segment effectively. She turned to Helen Blackthorn. "The last attack, on the Los Angeles Institute, was the only one that left survivors. Six children, in fact. Miss Blackthorn, if you will."
Helen disappeared from the dais.
It wasn't in Jonathan's nature to leave survivors. Not unless he needed them for something. Nothing was without reason with him.
Helen returned, ushering a young boy, maybe a little older than Max Lightwood had been. He was skinny, wiry with a head of brown hair. He wore white and held in his arms a small boy. A toddler with the same brown curls. A young girl stood behind the boy, probably ten or so. She had dark brown hair and the boy whose hand she held had messy black curls. Being one herself, Eliza noted that they were twins. Behind them was a younger girl with brown pigtail braids.
Each of the children wore white. And each of them looked exhausted and terrified.
Her brother wasn't beneath killing children. So why leave these alive?
"Who are they?" Eliza asked Clary quietly.
"The Blackthorn children. Helen's younger siblings."
"Julian Blackthorn." Consul Penhallow called out.
The first boy looked up from the floor. Julian handed the toddler to Helen and stepped forward. His eyes were frantic as they scoured the chamber. A girl came out on the dais, taking a place beside Helen. She gave Julian a thumbs-up gesture.
"Please pick up the Mortal Sword, Julian." Consul Penhallow told him. Her voice had lost its edge. Her words were smooth and gentle, the way they were supposed to be when talking to children.
Clary fidgeted. Jace swallowed. Eliza inhaled.
"He's just a kid." Clary muttered.
"He has to." Jace told her.
Eliza agreed with him. She took her hand from Jace's, balling her hands into fists on her knees. The Angel's Sword was heavy. Not in its make, in its being. It weighed upon you until the truth seeped out. By choice or force.
Julian complied. Robert Lightwood left his position at his podium and moved to the table. He lifted the Mortal Sword and placed it in Julian's grasp. The boy struggled with the weight of the Angel's Sword.
Consul Penhallow went to stand beside Julian. She knelt down next him. "Julian, tell everyone who is on the dais with you."
Julian said that Consul Penhallow and Inquisitor Lightwood were with him. He listed his siblings: Helen, Tiberius, Livia, Drusilla, and Tavy. And the blond girl next to Helen, Emma. Carstairs, his best friend.
"Can you explain what you witnessed at the Los Angeles Institute?"
The boy's skin was paling. "It happened in the afternoon." He told her. "Katerina was helping me and Emma train and Mark was watching us." He said that Emma's parents had been out on patrol. There had been a flash of light and the adults- Mark and Katerina- went to investigate, telling Julian and Emma to stay put. They heard people fighting. They split up. Emma went to get the younger children and Julian to alert the Clave with the twins. "That's when we saw him." Julian said in a quiet voice.
Eliza straightened.
"Who?" Consul Penhallow asked.
Julian looked at her and swallowed. "The Shadowhunter." Julain said he wore a red cloak and runes that 'weren't right.' Consul Penhallowed asked what he meant by that. Julian explained that the runes made him feel sick. "It was him, Consul Penhallow. Sebastian Morgenstern."
Jace reached over, taking her hand again. "Are you sure?" Consul Penhallowed asked him.
Julian nodded. "He had a sword. It was silver and it had black stars on it."
Phaesphoros. The father's sword. Jonathan's, Heosphoros, lost was premade, part of a long-lasting set in the Morgenstern family. The son to Valentine's Phaesphoros. Jonathan's sword, so their father had told, was made of a mixture of black gold and adamas, the blade silver. A pattern of stars decorated the hilt and blade ridge. Valentine's sword, twice the length of theirs, gold and adamas. It had been bathed in a silver so dark, the blade shone black. Phaesphoros as well had a pattern of stars on the ridge of its blade. Her sword, it was special. It was newer than the others. Made special for a daughter. The blade was slimmer than that of Heosphoros. White gold and adamas. An M engraved on the hilt, surrounded by three glittering rubies. Down the blade was a single falling star.
"Phaesphoros." Eliza murmured to Jace. "Father's sword." He'd seen it before, the night they died. The night he killed Jonathan.
"What did he do with the sword?" Consul Penhallow asked.
Julian told her that Sebastian had held the sword to his father's throat. "He had others with him. Other Shadowhunters. They wore black cloaks and red gear. I didn't know they made that." His eyes flitted to Helen and she nodded for him to continue. "I remember the woman, she had brown hair. And a cup, it looked like the Angel's Cup. She forced my dad to drink from it. And he-he-." Julian's voice broke off.
Eliza closed her eyes. She blocked out his voice as he continued.
"Stop it!" A voice rang out.
Her eyes flew open. The girl, Emma, had run out on the dais. She had stepped in front of Julian and was staring Consul Penhallow down with a furious look.
"I saw what happened. Question me instead." Her arms jutted out, hands palm out. Begging for the pain, the weight, of the truth be put on her instead. "Julian isn't even the one who stabbed Sebastian Morgenstern in the heart. I am."
What?
Eliza jerked forward. Jace's other hand wrapped around her bicep, keeping her in the seat.
"Emma, please." Consul. Penhallow insisted. "The Sword isn't harming Julian. I promise."
Emma moved to stand beside Julian. She placed her hands over the Sword so that they shared the burden. "I stabbed him. Right in the heart." Her voice was loud as it echoed through the chamber. "He didn't even flinch. He pulled out the knife and he laughed at me."
"Did he say anything?"
"Yes. He said, 'It's too bad you aren't going to live to tell the Clave that my mother has given me more strength than they could ever imagine. Only Glorious could end my life. A shame my fool of a sister wasted it, isn't it? Heaven will not grant another wish. There is nothing that can touch me now.'"
Next to her, Clary shuddered at their brother's words spoken through the mouth of a child. The room was no longer quiet as the members of the Clave broke out into murmured conversation. Emma ran off the dais and disappeared. After a moment, Clary was on her feet. Eliza, too shocked at her sudden movement, didn't try to stop her as she ran out of the aisle. She ran up onto the dais, past Helen Blackthorn and out towards where Emma had disappeared to.
"Well." Eliza breathed. She settled back into her seat.
"Thank you, Julian." Consul Penhallow said. She nodded at Robert Lightwood and he took the Sword from Julian's hands. The boy went back to join his family. "Eliza Morgenstern." Jia's dark eyes found her in the crowd.
Jace's hand tightened around hers. Her mother was looking at her. Did you know, her eyes were asking, her lips mouthed.
Imperceptibly, Eliza shook her head. No, but she had assumed as much. She pried Jace's hand from hers and stood up. The movement shifted all eyes on her.
She balled her hands into fists at her sides, locking her eyes on the dais. Her mouth felt dry, her throat scratchy, skin hot. They all watched her on her journey to the dais. Her feet were silent as she walked up the wooden steps. She stood between Jia Penhallow and Robert Lightwood.
"Will you take up the Sword?" Consul Penhallow asked.
Eliza held out her hands. Robert Lightwood placed the Angel's Sword in her grasp. Her fingers curled around the blade and she closed her eyes.
She tasted dirt in her mouth, cold dirt mixed with warm blood.
"What can you tell us about your brother, Sebastian Morgenstern?"
Her eyes opened. "What do you want to know?"
"What was he like growing up? Did the two of you get along?"
Eliza wanted to scoff, reply with some sarcastic remark. But she didn't. She couldn't. "I wouldn't say that. We…co-existed." Penhallow asked what she meant by that. "When we were younger, I was considered the competition. It became clear when we were about twelve that Jonathan had nothing to worry about. But-." Her sentence broke and she swallowed. "But he still liked to torture me."
"You said there was a competition? What kind? And what exactly became clear?"
"The competition for our father's attention. Jonathan needed it, he craved it." She said. "A few days before our- my-twelfth birthday, we were training. Valentine made us train for hours on end. When we performed poorly, he would whip us. The whip was tipped with demon metal. On that particular day, he made us spar twelve times. 'One for each year you've lived and one for luck.'
"Miss Morgenstern-."
Eliza looked at Consul Penhallow. "Eleven. We sparred for twelve rounds. I lost eleven of them." She looked back out at the crowd. Everyone was looking at her. She focused on her mother. "We were trained the same way. There was never any difference. It didn't matter that he was a boy and I was a girl. What mattered was that I cared. I felt bad for hurting my brother. I didn't want to beat him senseless like I was supposed to. And Jonathan…he just wanted to win. He liked beating the hell out of me."
"Miss-."
"My father didn't bother whipping me that day. He locked me in a Malachi Configuration. You're familiar with those?"
Consul Penhallow gave a quiet 'yes' in response. "A seraph blade is placed in the four cardinal directions. You draw the rune at the southern blade, and it creates a cage." Eliza nodded silently. "Your father put you in Malachi Configuration as a punishment for dismal performance during training?"
"Mhmm." Eliza hummed. "He let me out three days after, on my twelfth birthday. No food, no water. Nothing." Her grip on the Sword tightened and she grimaced. "You asked me what Jonathan was like growing up? He was a monster, just like our father told him he was. He told us both that. Jonathan took it to heart, clearly. He was violent. Cold. Cruel. He was sadistic. My brother is a psychopath, he always has been. I've spent most of my life being terrified of him and hating him."
She heard the slow breaths of Robert and Jia. "You were bound to him, much like Jace Herondale was. What was the nature of this connection?"
"Our lives weren't tied together, if that's what you mean. But it was a connection of the same kind."
"Demonic?" Robert Lightwood inquired. "Forced on you by Lilith?"
She nodded, saying yes. "She thought…she thought that we ought to be closer to one another. The way twins are meant to be. In life and death, that's what she said. She used demonic versions of the Wedded Union runes to bind us together."
She hated the memory of it. The dreams and what had been her life only a few weeks ago. She and Jonathan, behaving the way siblings were meant to. It wasn't a real familial love, runes couldn't create love. But it didn't mean that it hadn't felt real. They'd joked with each other, laughed, eaten meals together.
And for a short while, they'd been parabatai. Real ones, like Jace and Alec.
Now the only things she had left from that time were vivid memories and a half-faded parabatai rune.
"What other information can you give us about Sebastian?" Consul Penhallow questioned.
Eliza met her gaze. "Ask me what you really want to ask." She instructed. "Don't beat around the bush. I could spend days letting you know every single thing about my brother and never get around to what you actually want to know."
Consul Penhallow licked her lips slowly. "All right then. Are the rumors true or just rumors? Does your brother have the blood of a demon? Is he now unkillable?"
The truth was a dangerous thing. For something so simple, so cut and dry, it held a lot of power. She had no choice but to give it over. Condemn herself. Who was to say her head wouldn't be put on the chopping block alongside her brother's when it was all over?
"Lilith's blood is in his veins. Valentine experimented on us before we were born."
"You have it as well?"
"Yes. It's what makes him so dangerous. It's why he is the way he is. He's faster than a normal Nephilim, stronger too. But the blood burnt the humanity from him. That's why he's so deadly. He doesn't care. There are no emotions to hold him back."
"That doesn't apply to you? Are you not enhanced in the same way?"
Eliza cracked a smile. "I have my moments, but I do a pretty good job of holding them back. I was given a chance early on, one Jonathan wasn't. That's what makes me different, human."
"And is he killable? Is there a way to kill him?"
"Sure."
"What is it?"
"Me."
"You?" Consul Penhallow repeated. "Your brother said a weapon of Heaven-."
Eliza interrupted her. "Give me one." She told her. "Find a way to take the heavenly fire out of my boyfriend and put it in my sword. And I'll drive it straight through Jonathan's heart."
"What if you miss?" Consul Penhallow asked her. "Not many can hit the heart on the first try."
Something rustled in the crowd. It drew her attention. Jace was standing. "She never misses, Consul. Eliza always hits her mark."
Jia Penhallow smiled at Eliza. "Very well, then. You could do it, take the life of your brother?"
Eliza smirked as she loosened her grip on the Angel's Sword. She slid her hand down the blade and gripped the hilt of Maellartach. Voices broke out in the crowd. "It would be my greatest pleasure in life."
It was a tiring business, holding the Mortal Sword. Being questioned in front of most of the Nephilim.
It was even more tiring being stared down by her mother.
Jocelyn Fairchild had inquisitive eyes, all seeing and luminous. They were the same eyes that had been passed down to both her daughters. At that moment, her eyes were trained on her oldest daughter.
"I should have known." Jocelyn muttered.
Eliza shifted. They were at the kitchen table where, only the night before, she had heard Jocelyn and Luke discussing her mother's wish to have killed Jonathan as an infant. Jocelyn had her hands wrapped around a cup of tea. Eliza's sat untouched in front of her.
"You couldn't have known." Eliza assured her. "You thought I was dead."
Jocelyn sighed, shaking her head. "I'm your mother. I should have known you were hurting. I grew you, I carried you inside of me for nine months. How could I have not known?"
Eliza picked up her cup. She took a slow drink. Chai, her favorite. "Like I said, you thought I was dead. You don't have to feel guilty. It isn't your fault."
"I knew that-I knew-." Jocelyn frowned and let go of her cup. She sat back in the chair. "Luke and Maryse told me that Valentine had hurt you growing up. I never…I never imagined something like what you spoke of today."
"You thought some part of him, some humane part would appear in his parenting?" Eliza asked her. "He committed one of the most atrocious acts in our history by slaughtering other Nephilim. He wanted to eradicate Downworlders and he murdered the Silent Brothers. He experimented on pregnant women. There was no part of him fit to be a father."
Eliza took another drink of her tea. Jocelyn picked up her cup, holding it between her chin and chest. "He was so excited the day the two of you were born. He went the very next day and requested a sword for you. But that day, the day you were born, I slept. I was in and out, it was so much work, bringing the two of you into the world." She could imagine. Childbirth sounded horrible. "He stayed in the room the whole time I slept. Every time I woke, he was there. Holding the two of you. Talking about what great Shadowhunters you would become." Her mother's voice was nostalgic, far-off. Remembering a better time. "He doted on you a lot, I remember that. You were a sensitive baby, a soft child. Jonathan was always pulling your hair or taking your things. And your father was always there to save you. That's why it's so hard for me to think of him hurting you."
He had doted on her? That was hard to believe. She was his great mistake. Unsatisfactory. A failure. Lost cause. Waste of time and space. She couldn't picture a time when he had held her, shushed her cries and promised everything would be all right.
"He realized I wasn't what he wanted me to be." Eliza told her. "Like I told Consul Penhallow, it became clear Jonathan was going to be the soldier. He was the perfect weapon that Father wanted. After that, I meant nothing. Not until he needed me. And I took the first chance I could get to leave and do what I could to stop him."
"I wish things had been different." Jocelyn sighed. "For your sake. And for Jace's."
Eliza had half a smile on her face. She was thankful the conversation about her upbringing was at a close. Her mother's unjustified guilt was too much to bear. "Oh, you like my boyfriend now?"
"I've never disliked him. I just didn't trust him."
"And now you do?"
Jocelyn took a drink of her tea and set the cup back on the table. She stared at Eliza with motherly intent. "He loves you. I've seen the way he looks at you and I know he'll protect you with his life. And he makes you happy. That's all I can hope for in the person you choose to spend your life with."
The Lightwoods had been granted a nice house. It was one set aside for the Inquisitor and his or her family to live in. Which meant it was one of the nicest houses inside the city. The house was comprised of several floors.
Jace and Alec were sharing a room, which she didn't think was necessary considering the house was so large. Isabelle, being a girl, had her own room. Which Eliza was sure she enjoyed.
The two Lightwood siblings were sitting together in the windowsill. Jace and Eliza on Jace's bed. They were sitting next to one another, not touching except for the fact that their hands were interlocked. Clary had taken residence on the foot of Alec's bed upon her arrival.
"We're basically in hiding." Jace said bitterly. "All Shadowhunters were recalled back to Idris, locked up nice and tight. Meanwhile, Sebastian is out there. Demons are out there. And we're all sitting here."
"Not for long." Alec assured him. "The Council has to make a plan. He's already murdered dozens of Shadowhunters, they can't risk more lives before they have a plan."
"They have a plan, somewhat." Eliza reminded him. Jace's face immediately twisted into annoyance. "Jace, don't start." She begged.
"It's a stupid plan." He said thickly. "You can't offer yourself up on a platter like that."
"What the hell else are we going to do?" She asked him. "Wait for Jonathan to slaughter more people? Mundanes? The only way to stop him is to kill him. And I'm the best chance at that."
Jace rolled his eyes at her. "Why? Because you're the best Shadowhunter of our age? That doesn't mean anything, Liz. He's almost killed you before, he could do it again. He could really kill you." He said quickly. "And I don't think Lilith will be too keen on bringing you back again."
Her green eyes narrowed at him. The corner of her mouth twitched. "No. Because we're built the same. I know him, better than anyone in this room. I know how he thinks. I can kill him, and I will."
"You've missed him before." Jace reminded her quietly. "You've tried before and failed."
"This time will be different." She promised him. "I'm not going to let my emotions get in the way."
Every other time, when faced with the option to strike her brother down, she had stopped herself. Some integral part of her had held back. The same part that refused to beat him in sparring matches as children. It was a weak little part of her that recognized Jonathan more as her brother than a cold-blooded, psychotic murderer.
It still existed, on some lower level of her being. But she wouldn't let it stop her again.
"Is that all that happened after I left?" Clary asked them. "You offered to kill Sebastian and they dismissed?"
Isabelle said not quite. She explained that the Council concluded that the missing members of the attacks needed to be assumed as Endarkened now. He needed soldiers, not hostages. Alec added that even with the six Conclaves on his side, his forces were still smaller.
"He knows that." Jace told his parabatai. His tawny eyes had turned a dark gold. "Trust me."
"We have Downworlders. They'll side with us. Tomorrow's meeting is with the representatives. They'll help us fight against him." Alec said to him.
"We hope." Isabelle added in a solemn tone. "After all that, conversation turned to Jace."
Clary raised her eyebrows. "What about him?"
Isabelle shrugged. "You know, the usual. Heavenly fire, can we get it out of him, stuff like that. Which," she said in a bored tone, "rounds back to-."
"Me." Eliza looked at Clary.
"You?"
Eliza nodded. "I told them I could kill Jonathan. But I'll need a weapon made of heavenly fire to do it."
Clary frowned. "Jace is the only source of it though…"
Eliza glanced at Jace, who's jaw was locked tight, his lips pressed in a firm line. "Yeah." She said dully. "Which is why I told them to get it out of him and into my sword so I could drive it through Jonathan's heart."
Jace, clearly, did not agree with her plan. Before he could yet again disagree with her, Alec relayed the rest to Clary. "After that, there was kind of a scene. A bunch of people think Eliza is secretly siding with Sebastian and don't trust her."
"The usual." Eliza sighed.
"They want to find a way to capture Sebastian. See if they can kill off all the Endarkened."
Izzy said something about trapping him in a coffin made of adamas and dropping him to the bottom of the ocean. Which wasn't a half-bad idea.
Jace shook his head at her. "They're still trying to figure out how to cure the Endarkened. The warlocks in the Spiral Labyrinth are being paid a lot to figure out Sebastian's ritual and spell."
"They just need to be killed." Isabelle said toughly.
Eliza didn't necessarily disagree with her. It would be more time-efficient to just kill off the Endarkened. Alec reminded Isabelle that most of the Endarkened, if not all of them, still had Shadowhunter family. They were missed, they'd been real people. Their families wanted them back.
Like Amatis. Luke wanted his sister back.
"And I want Max back, but that isn't going to happen." Isabelle's voice rose. "They're not people anymore, Alec. They're demons walking around in Shadowhunter bodies." She was shouting, high voice bouncing off the walls of the room.
"Stop yelling." Alec ordered her. "Mom and Dad are still in the house. We don't need them coming up here."
"I know that." She snapped at him. "And I doubt we're their main concern right now. They're probably in their room, standing on opposite sides-."
"That's not our problem." Alec said.
Eliza glanced at Jace. Usually, when Alec and Izzy fought, he watched with slight amusement. But he sat with his eyes dark and trained on their hands.
Isabelle harshly said it was because Maryse and Robert were their parents. "Iz," Alec said carefully, "lots of parents split up when a child dies."
Eliza's attention snapped back to them. Isabelle's mouth fell open. She was more sensitive than the others when it came to Max. She felt responsible, somehow, even though it wasn't her fault and she couldn't have helped him.
Isabelle pushed out of the windowsill and ran from the room. Alec started after her. Clary looked over at Jace and Eliza. "Guess I'll go home." She said.
Eliza let go of Jace's hand. "I'll go with you." She got off the bed and grabbed her jacket. Clary's eyes flickered to Jace. He was watching Eliza, eyes dark with perplexity and thought. "I can get back on my own. I think you should stay. You guys have a lot to talk about."
Clary left them alone in the room. Jace was silent until the sound of Clary's feet against the stairs disappeared.
"Jace-."
"Come on." He stood and put on his jacket. "Let's get out of here." He grabbed her hand and led her out of the bedroom.
"If you're going to berate me for offering a plan again, I'd honestly rather just go home."
It was cold, maybe colder than New York. No snow, not yet. But when it came, it would be beautiful. The most natural of things, like rain and snow and sunshine, always seemed more beautiful in Idris. She didn't need warlocks to know magic was real. Idris was all the proof she needed.
Other Shadowhunters, scurrying around in the early evening, spent sideways looks in their direction. It may have been dark, but the street that paralleled Oldway Canal was busy as ever.
"I'm tired of talking about it." She added when she received no response. "What's done is done and if they take the offer, good. If they don't, that's fine too."
He stopped as they drew upon one of the many squares inside the city. The stone well that sat in the center of the square had been covered up for the colder season. "It's not about the plan anyway, Liz. It's about you."
"Yeah, I know. You think I'm being reckless and-."
"Because you are being reckless. But that's not even what I mean." He sighed. He rubbed the side of his neck and looked around. It was several seconds before his gaze landed back on her. "Why does it always have to be you? Why do you always have to offer yourself up for the most dangerous mission? Killing Valentine, killing Sebastian. Why does it have to be you?" He didn't give her time to respond before continuing on. "Because they're your family? They're Clary and your mom's family too. Because they hurt you? They hurt a lot of people. What is it? Why you?"
Her shoulders relaxed, slumping almost. The horrible part of his tirade wasn't that he was angry, because he wasn't, but that he sounded scared. That was what signaled the alarms in her head. Jace rarely sounded scared. It wasn't often he let any of his fear show.
"No, Jace, it's-." She stopped herself. To be frank, the reasons he listed were the very same reasons she had given herself. False reasons. Coverups for the bitter and miserable truth. "If I kill him, maybe people won't whisper or stare." She murmured. "They won't say I'm with him. They'll trust me."
His face, heavenly and beautiful, softened. "They'll always talk, Lizzie. Your Valentine's daughter and you're Sebastian's sister. Nothing you do will change it. You don't have to prove anything to anyone." He reached, taking her hand. His skin was warm, even in the cold night air.
Thank you, heavenly fire.
"That's not all…" He asked what all she needed. What else could there be? "We aren't the same. He thinks that somewhere inside, I'm like him, but I'm not. I don't want to be. We look the same and we have the same blood, but that's it. Isn't it?"
"Eliza, you will never be like him. Not even on your worst day." He promised.
If she strained her eyes hard enough, she could see the faint glow of gold whispering in his veins. Fire that could burn away evil. Evil in Jonathan, evil in her. Her thumb traced over the veins on the back of his hand. "Maybe if I kill him, I'll be destroying the evil inside me. I could be good. Like you and Clary."
"Lizze…" He whispered. He pulled her in for a hug. "You're already good. Everyone knows that, everyone who's opinion matters anyway."
She sighed, nestling her head into the crook of his neck. "I could be better. And that's what I want, to be better. I don't want to have any connection to him at all."
He stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "You know I love you, right?"
She frowned. "Of course, I do. You remind me pretty frequently."
The corner of his mouth dragged up in a half-smile. He cupped the left side of her face. "I was never angry about your plan. I just worry about you and I love you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. And when it comes to Sebastian…"
"I know." She groaned. "Niceties for the Morgenstern twins are off the table. I've been promoted to kill-on-sight for him."
"Exactly. And I know you're good, you're one of the best. Maybe even the best. But when it comes to him…"
Jonathan was the better fighter. He always had been. It was because he didn't emotion cloud his judgment or thinking. Which was why, when it came down to it, neither would she.
"I know." She repeated, firm with a nod. "By the way, I love you too."
Jace had a smile that could easily outshine the smile. It was the smile that only occurred when he was truly happy. Which, in that moment, was true. He leaned forward, slow but sure, as if to kiss her. He drew to a stop, their lips only millimeters apart.
"We shouldn't." His voice was quiet, nearly lost over the rippled of the nearby canal.
She closed her eyes. She knew that, knew the answer was coming. It was a dangerous business, the two of them kissing. Even touching proved harmful sometimes.
"Then we won't." She said with a smile. "Come on. We should get home."
He nodded and let his hand fall. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. Warmth surged through her and an idea sparked.
Maybe he could burn the evil from her…