"Can we go somewhere tomorrow?" The words were out of Clary's mouth as soon as the door to their shared bedroom was closed.

In her absence from the house, it seemed the trading of beds had occurred. Rather than the one queen sized bed, there were now two twin beds.

"Depends on where it is you want to go." Eliza hung her cloak on the back of the door. "If it's outside the city, bets are Mom says no."

Clary laughed but didn't disagree. With their psycho murdering brother running around God knows where, they couldn't be too safe. "Inside Alicante. I was thinking that since I've been a Shadowhunter and training for about four months now, it was time I got a weapon of my own…"

Eliza's eyes sparked and she whipped around. She all but jumped onto Clary's bed. "Yes! We'll go first thing in the morning! What are you thinking? Knives? You have really good aim, you know. Like when you hit that wolf in the hotel. Or maybe-."

"I was thinking about a sword."

Eliza's eyes widened and she sat back. "Really?"

Clary nodded. "Is that…it's okay with you?"

"Of course, it's okay with me! Every Morgenstern needs a sword, that's what Father always said. And I know you're more of a Fairchild, but you're a Morgenstern. And that means you need a sword."

"You're sure?"

Eliza leaned forward and grabbed both her sister's hands. "Come here." She led Clary from the bed over to her unpacked bag. She threw open the top and dug through it until she found her favorite white dress. On normal Shadowhunter circumstances, it would have been a summer mourning dress. And in a way, it had been. But for her, it was a tangible remembrance of the first time she'd laid eyes on Jace.

She unfolded the dress, revealing her sword. She pulled it out and stood back up. "Here, take it."

Carefully, Clary took it. Her hand curled around the hilt.

"Good. How's it feel?"

"Heavy." Clary admitted.

Eliza laughed quietly. "You just aren't used to it yet. You're used to lighter weapons. You'll adjust."

Clary licked over her bottom lip. She spent several moments weighing the sword in her hand and balancing it out. "Why Eosphoros?" She asked.

Eliza sat on the edge of her bed. "It means Morning-Bringer. The original swords, Heosphoros and Phaesphoros were made with the intention of symboling the attributes of the morning star. Dawn-Bringer and Light-Bringer. Pieces of our name, fit for our hands."

"Which one is Sebastian's?" Clary handed the sword back to her. Smart girl, hilt first.

Eliza swallowed. She hated that name. Hated the way at which everyone succumbed to the name he wanted. She'd never fall to it. He would always be Jonathan. "Heosphoros, the son's sword, Dawn-Bringer. It's lost. Has been since before the Uprising. He carries Phaesphoros, the father sword. Valentine always promised he would find Heosphoros and return it, but he never did."

Clary sat back on her own bed. She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands. "Must have killed him seeing you get a family sword when his was lost."

Eliza smirked. "It's probably part of the reason he hates me so much. He never thought I was worthy of the name and yet I still got a Morgenstern sword." She chuckled, shaking her head. "Not to mention it was made for me. There were always two, one for the father and one for the son. They've been passed down through generations. Mom said after I was born, Valentine went, and had it made for me. Jonathan's was an heirloom, pre-destined for him, but mine was special."

That, she took pride in. It was a small victory she allowed herself. One family claim she would take.

"They say our family used to be great. Before Valentine." Clary said quietly.

"We were. Good and strong. Respected. And now…we're this. Shadowed by a stain that will never wash clean." Her fingers ran along the edge of the sword's blade.

"We'll change that. You and me. We'll make it better." Clary promised. Eliza looked over at her. "We'll make it known for something good again."

Eliza nodded firmly. "Together."

At that, the two decided to settle in for the night. Content, Eliza dreamt of a triple set of swords and the bleaching of a dark stain from the sky.

The day was clear. Not so much warm in the dead of December, but it was a clear day and Eliza's mind was only focused on one thing. Weapons.

Weapons were her greatest material love. Simple and basic, easy to understand, easier to wield. For her, anyway. She was most at home with slips of throwing knives and a sword (her own, above all else), but any weapon at all felt better than no weapon. Chakrams were a third-choice weapon (maybe she just really liked to throw things) and everything else fell below.

"Beautiful, huh?" She let a finger slide over the slick edge of an axe on the wall.

Clary had not uttered a word since they entered Diana's Arrow minutes before. Awe-induced green eyes traversed over the contents that littered the walls and the tables. For a few moments, her gaze had been stuck on the gold chandelier that hung above them.

"When did she start wanting a sword?" Jace murmured into Eliza's ear as she admired a gorgeous longsword that had a delicately colored pommel in a shade of turquoise.

Eliza shrugged. She didn't have a precise answer. Clary had simply said she wanted one, not when she had decided in favor of the weapon. Not that Eliza was disagreeing. She couldn't wait for her sister to get her hands on a sword so she could teach her everything that she knew. In a nicer and more informal way than what she herself had been taught. No lashes for Clary.

"Emma Carstairs said I needed a better weapon." Clary's eyes were set on a longsword with a thick iron hilt. "Figured if a twelve-year old said something, it was time I got my own weapon."

The difference, Eliza decided not to verbalize, was that Emma Carstairs had been raised a Shadowhunter. Clary had not.

"And this is the best place for it."

Eliza's eyes narrowed at the woman stationed behind the counter. She had recognized her immediately, from the moment they stepped into the shop. It was hard to misplace a woman who had a koi fish inked onto her face.

"Do you own this place?" Clary asked. Her hand outstretched towards the longsword.

Jace shook his head at her. "Too long for you." He advised. "But you are pretty short so."

Clary's gaze darkened at his joke. She took height jokes a lot of the time. She was disgraced on the height genetic. Not that Eliza could say much, she only had a few inches on her.

"Yes. My name is Diana Wrayburn."

"You want a short-sword." Eliza instructed her sister. "You can't fight with something that's bigger than you."

Taking both pieces of advice to head, Clary opted to turn her attention to a short-sword that was hanging on the wall close by. There were runic letterings scratched into the surface of the blade. "What are these?" Clary asked Diana.

"Viking runes. The sword is heavy." Clary asked what they meant. "Only the Worthy. You can tell a lot about weapon from whether it has an inscription or a name."

Clary recounted Emma Carstairs' weapon and its inscription. The comment struck up a conversation between Clary and Diana. Growing bored, Eliza turned her own attention to the table behind her. A hefty looking morning star was laid out, the spikes shining and sharp. She poked the pad of her index finger against one of the spikes. The small contact drew a speck of blood.

Now that was a weapon.

"Interested?" Jace whispered.

She shrugged. Morning stars weren't exactly her forte and she didn't really have the room on her person for another weapon. "It's pretty."

"You think all weapons are pretty." He pointed out.

A truth. It was easy for her to get lost in the admiration of all things sharp and harmful.

"There's a certain beauty in things that can kill you with a single blow."

"Must be why I think you're so beautiful."

She spun and gawked at him. "Jace!" She smacked her hand across his chest.

He chuckled before rubbing the spot on his arm. "What? Too soon?"

She was on the verge of answering with a stern reprimand before a single word burned through her ears. Morgenstern. Bespoke from her sister's mouth. Clary was standing in front of the counter. Diana stood opposite, a short-sword laid out on the glass countertop.

When Eliza's eyes landed on the sword, the first word that came to mind was beautiful. The pommel, grip, and cross-guard were a dark mixture of obsidian, black and infinite. A blade cured from a silver that was dark enough she nearly mistook it for black. The piece of the blade that caught her eye and made her stomach churn though, was the gentle pattern of dark stars that ran down the center.

"Oh, my God." Eliza's hands curled around the edge of the counter.

Diana's eyebrows lifted. "Years ago," she told Clary, "Wayland the Smith was commissioned to craft a set of swords. One for a father and one for a son. Light-Bringer and Dawn-Bringer. Phaesphoros and Heosphoros. Valentine Morgenstern carried Phaesphoros and in his death, Sebastian Morgenstern takes the sword."

Eliza narrowed her eyes. "We know that. And I'm sure that you already knew that." She snarled. "You know who we are." Not a question. Eliza figured there wasn't a Shadowhunter in Alicante, or even Idris, who didn't know.

"Our world is not so large. I've seen your testimony," she looked at Clary before averting back to Eliza, "and watched you take the Angel's Sword."

"Where did you get the sword?" Clary asked her.

All those years, the son's sword was supposed to be lost. Somewhere to probably never be found. And all along, it sat in a weapons shop right inside the city. Mere miles from the son it was destined for.

"Your mother sold it to my father shortly before the Uprising." Diana informed. For some reason, Eliza wasn't surprised. Jocelyn Fairchild continued to amaze her. "The sword should belong to you."

Clary shook her head and stepped back from the counter. She said she didn't want the sword. She had seen what the larger of the swords could do and the monsters who wielded it and she wanted no part of that. "Morgensterns are nothing but evil."

Both Diana and Jace's eyes fell on Eliza.

"I take severe offense to that." Eliza said lightly.

Clary's face softened. "You know I didn't mean you."

Eliza nodded thoughtfully. She knew that, she really did. She locked eyes with Diana before picking up the sword. She leveled it. Well-balanced. Not too heavy, not light either. Perfect. Just like her own.

"You're a Morgenstern too, Clary." Jace reminded.

Eliza flipped the sword in her hand two times. "It's a good sword." She said softly. Pressuring, easing. She could be manipulative, when she wanted. It was the sword of the son, but traditions could be broken. Clary could take it.

Eliza didn't often entertain the idea of fate. Not on matters such as that. On a bigger scale, perhaps. Such as Jace. She and Jace, specifically. Not swords. But this, it wasn't any sword. It was Heosphoros, a Morgenstern blade. And no one else could have it but a Morgenstern. One worthy of wielding it. And that person was Clary.

"It's too expensive." Clary dismissed. "Black gold and gold. Too much." She shook her head.

Eliza didn't have much money to her own name, but she was more than willing to pawn a few of her items off. Clary had to have the sword. Even if it meant Eliza had to pawn off her throwing knives.

She was about to offer up her suggestion when Diana intervened. "It's yours, if you want." She said. "People tell stories of these swords, you know. Dark magic mixed in the metal. It belongs to a Morgenstern."

A sword. A free sword. A free Morgenstern sword. There was no better offer.

"I don't want it." Clary sighed.

Eliza turned the sword inward, letting the blade skim under where her shoulder and chest met. The hilt faced Clary. "Try." She urged. She gave a nod of encourage and Clary took the sword. "How's this one feel?"

Clary nodded, balancing the sword out. "Light as a feather."

Eliza grinned. "Normal, right?" She asked. "Like it's part of you."

"Yeah." Clary breathed.

"It's yours." Eliza enforced. "You're a Morgenstern by blood and the sword is meant for a Morgenstern. Heosphoros is yours."

Clary lowered the weapon. Her eyes were clouded over with indecision. "But-."

"Remember what we said?" She leaned against the counter. "You and me. Together. We'll make it better, right?"

Polish the name. Make it known for something good again. They could never erase the stain, but maybe they could clean it up a bit. The two of them. Valentine's daughters. Morgensterns, Fairchilds.

Jace laced his fingers in with hers, giving a gentle squeeze. Her eyes flickered as Diana caught something out of the air. A little slip of paper materialized from the piece of light. Diana's eyes flitted over the paper. Her eyebrows turned down, mouth forming a tight line.

"What is it?" Eliza asked.

"There was an attack on the London Institute."

Jace's hand tightened around hers. "What? When?"

Diana laid the paper on the counter. "No one is dead. There were some injuries. But they didn't manage to capture or kill any of Sebastian's forces."

Eliza yanked her hand from Jace's. She drove her hands through her hair before leaning over, doubling her body down. Her hands placed themselves on her knees.

"Liz…?" Jace whispered.

His hand was on her back. She pushed her hand out and he took a step away. "Don't." She hissed. She pulled herself up straight and took a deep breath. "I just…I need a second, okay?"

He nodded.

Her fist slammed against the edge of the wooden table that housed the morning star. "God damn it." That ever familiar and too present bubbled up in her stomach. Too much rage, too much hate. Darkness. Sweeping, sinister. She squinted her eyes shut, trying her best to push it all away. "He doesn't- he won't give up."

"Liz, no one was killed. Everyone is gonna be fine." Clary assured her.

Fine? No one there was fine. And they wouldn't be. No one- Shadowhunter, Downworlder, mundane- would be safe until Jonathan was dead.

Her eyes met Jace's. All in that brief look, so much was shared. Understanding, concern, a single thought. Do what you have to do.

"This can't go on any longer. We can't just sit here, walled up in the city while he's out there bloodying his hands more." Eliza gripped her hands into fists. "I'm not going to just wait for him to come. He has to be stopped."

Luckily, her sister and boyfriend were in no disagreement. They hated him just as much as she did. Jonathan couldn't be allowed to traipse and walk freely any longer. He couldn't be allowed to kill at his own leisure or promote terror.

Clary gripped the sword a little tighter in her hand. "Together." She said firmly.

The door to the bedroom closed with a soft, but quiet intensity. Eliza didn't bother glancing up from the blade of her sword.

"I want to be alone, Jace."

"Not Jace."

At that, she looked back. The sight of her soon-to-be stepfather leaning against her bedroom door caused her hand to still as it wiped a rag in repetitive circles across the sword's blade. It was pristinely clean, gleaming, but it was all she had to draw her mind away from other thoughts. It was either clean her sword until her hands cramped or throw knives until her wrists locked up and she didn't think anyone would appreciate holes in the wall. Amatis' house didn't have a training room of any kind and she had no clue where to go for decent target practice.

"Same goes for you too, Luke. I don't want to be bothered."

Luke sat down on the edge of Clary's bed. "I didn't think you did. But wanting and needing something aren't the same."

Eliza let go of the rag and placed the sword carefully on the floor. "Sure, they are." She told him. "I want to kill my brother and I also need to kill him."

She didn't like saying that she wanted to take the life of someone. Then again, Jonathan wasn't really someone anymore. He never had been. He had never been the son that Jocelyn wanted, the boy he should have been. He was the foot soldier to their father's cause and now the general of his own twisted army. What a promotion.

"I remember a couple months ago when Jace was dragging you off at the crack of dawn to track Sebastian down so you could do the same thing to Valentine. How'd that turn out for you?"

She grimaced. Not very well. "Could've gone better." She muttered. A lot better, actually. Valentine had died, sure. But not before he had killed both she and Jace. And yes, they were brought back. But, by the Angel, at what cost? "If you're trying to scare me off from going after him, it isn't going to work. I don't care what happens to me but trying to kill him is better than waiting here while he's out there murdering innocent people."

And really, no one was truly innocent. No one's soul was so bathed in pure and heavenly white. But that didn't mean they deserved death.

"How are you going to get out of the city? Just gonna try and sneak out?"

She got to her feet and picked up her sword. Tossing the weapon on the bed, she looked Luke dead in the face. "You seem to be forgetting that I offered myself up on a silver platter to Consul Hightower and the rest of the Council. They don't have any other option right now other than me. And I'm betting that after the London attack, they won't hesitate to send me out there."

All she had to do was present herself and her weapons in front of them and say she was ready. She was the only option they had to take down Jonathan. Beggars couldn't be choosers. Not with Nephilim lives on the line. Really though, what she needed was a way to get the heavenly fire from Jace and into her sword. That was the only way she could assuredly kill Jonathan. Burn the evil out and take his life at the same time. A done deal.

But the Silent Brothers were nowhere close on figuring that out. And she doubted Raziel wanted to be summoned again. Especially by her.

"Eliza, I can't say that I know exactly how you feel, because I don't. But I understand this…drive to fix the mess that your father and brother have made. It's not your responsibility alone to clean up after them."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She didn't want to clean up the mess! She wanted it gone. She wanted them both gone from the world and erased from existence. Dead. Burned. Buried. Whatever. Rotting away in Hell or Edom or wherever damned souls were sent. She needed people to know that she was a Morgenstern, but she wasn't tainted. She wasn't Valentine. She wasn't Jonathan. She was Eliza and she was good.

"I'm the only one who can, Luke." She whispered. "I know…" she sat down on the end of her bed, only a few feet from where Luke sat, "I know I've failed in the past but everything that was holding me back then, it's gone. I can do it. I have to."

Luke sighed before looking back at her. "You aren't a killer, Eliza. I know you think that because of what was done to you, that you're bad, but you aren't. Taking a life, taking the life of your brother, it won't be an easy thing to do. Killing demons isn't the same as killing a person."

She shook her head. Luke was good, but he wasn't that good. "You know, I remember everything from those weeks Jace and I were with him. All of it. And I wasn't like Jace. I wasn't subservient to whatever Jonathan wanted. I wasn't blank in the head. Everything I did, I did because I wanted to. I liked that feeling, that freedom. There were no consequences for my actions, no repercussions I had to face. For the first time, I was really free. I had nothing to worry about at all." She leaned forward, resting her forearms against her thighs. She clasped her hands together and looked down at the floor. "Luke, I killed people. Not because I had to or because they deserved. I did it because I wanted. I know how to take a life and I know how it feels. And if I have to lose myself in the darkness to do what I have to, I will."

"And if you die?"

That, she knew, was a strong possibility. Jonathan was stronger than her and he nearly always beat her in fights. But she had one thing he didn't. A cause. Sure, he wanted to rule the world or whatever nonsense he was spouting. Who didn't at some point or anything? But she had a reason, a real one. Family and friends. The entire world, Shadow and not. She had a seven billion reasons and counting to beat him and all of that meant more than what he believed in.

She had something else, too. Something new. Jonathan would always be her brother, but she didn't see him that way anymore. He was just another demon, another monster, that had sleazed into their world. Something that needed killed. There was nothing remotely human to him. He had never been a brother to her in anything but blood. Letting go of the deep held, near subconscious idea that the humanity in him could be reached was the edge she needed. He was nothing but a shell. Nothing to her.

"You don't sound very confident in me." She muttered. "What happened to me being one of the best?"

Luke snorted. "You are. You're a remarkable fighter, Eliza. But so is he. And you have people to think about. Your family, your mom and me, Clary. The Lightwoods. Magnus. Your friends, like Simon and Maia. Jace."

"They've all been hurt by my family. So many people have been. If it takes my life to pay for everything Valentine and Jonathan have done, so be it. If I have to lay down on the line to save the lives of everyone else, I will."

"You're seventeen. You shouldn't have to."

Seventeen. She remembered that birthday. Nothing special, save for the fact that just a short year after and she'd be free. A legal adult by Nephilim standards. She hadn't been gifted anything special, not a real present. Just the information that her father had a special task for her.

You must go to New York and locate the Angel's Cup, girl.

Suddenly, for the first time in her life, out of his hands. Away from her brother. Safe. Alone. She would find the Cup, turn it, and her family, over to the Clave, and never have to go back to him again.

That had worked out so well for her.

Now, she had four months until she was an adult. A legal one, anyway.

"I don't see anyone else lining up." She said in a sour voice. "And I don't know of anyone else with the right blood, either. You know, the kind that puts a little bit more air in your jump. A little pep in your step." I.e. no other special experiments. No one with an extra dosage of a little something something. Luke reminded her that both Jace and Clary had angel's blood. They were special, too. Stronger.

Four. Four special Shadowhunters. Two of the heavens. Two of hell. Three locked up safe in Idris. One running around shoving his sword through people. But there was only one who could really take Jonathan.

"The key word in that sentence is angel, Luke. They're good, extra good because of it. And I'm not underestimating them because I know better. Jace is an exceptional fighter. He's fought me on several occasions, and he does have the capability of going head-to-head with my brother. And Clary is spectacular for someone so new. But-."

"But you're better?"

She huffed air through her nostrils. Unsurprised that he went that direction. A lot of people did. She did have a touch of arrogance in herself. "That's not where I was going." She shook her head. "I love Jace. And I love Clary more." A widely known fact. Jace was her boyfriend, but Clary was her sister. Her little sister. There was no one she cared about more. "That's why I can't let them near this. If-when I go, I go alone. They're strong, but they're two of the most important people to me and I won't let them get hurt. Besides, you've met them. Do you think they're killers?"

Luke paused. Anyone could be a killer, in the right circumstance. If the situation called for it. Jace had killed Declan, after all. "You never know. Anything is possible."

"My mind is made up, Luke. It's going to be me. And there's nothing anyone can do to stop me."

"Eliza!"

She hadn't been asleep. She hadn't. Just thinking a very blank, leisurely piece of nothing with her eyes closed and breathing steady.

Eliza had not been asleep, but she had been startled near death when the door to the bedroom flew open.

"Mom?"

Jocelyn was wild-eyed and tense. "Come on! To the Gard!"

She jolted up from the bed. On instinct, she grabbed her sword. Did she need it? Maybe, maybe not. Was it better to have it just in case? Absolutely.

Jocelyn's hand wrapped around her wrist as she reached the door. Her mother pulled her through the house out into the night. Luke was waiting for them on the front doorstep. And then they were speed walking through the cobblestone streets. Massed together with the tens of other Nephilim headed to the same destination.

In the distance, red and gold sparked the dark of the sky. Upon a lengthened inspection, she realized the lights weren't the sparks of a fire, but the warning signs of the demon towers that littered the outskirts of Alicante.

"What's happened? What's going on?" The question wasn't directed at any specific person. Just someone willing to provide an answer.

"Attack." Luke provided.

Another?

Where? When? Who? So many thoughts and questions bombarded her brain, swirling around one another like crowded fish in a bowl. At least, until two bright, flashing words halted her in her steps.

Clary.

Jace.

"Eliza!" Jocelyn yanked on her wrist. "We have to go!"

"Where are-?"

Her mother's face molded into sympathy before she gave her another hard tug and they were once again on the way. "Hopefully there or on the way."

She didn't know. And neither did Eliza.

"Where was it? The attack?" She asked Luke as they continued on. "When?"

Luke grimaced. "It's still happening."

Had it not been for her mother's stern grip, Eliza would have faltered again. Still happening?

First London and now this? Two in a day? Jonathan, whatever he was up to, was getting anxious. By the time they reached the Gard, Jocelyn's steel grip on her wrist hadn't loosened. The crowd grew to a pause at the front gates. Normally closed but now bared open to the public. The squared courtyard was home to a massive Portal. An active one.

"Luke-." Eliza glanced up at him.

His hand was resting on Jocelyn's shoulder. Her mother's attention thrown everywhere in search of Clary. Imperceptibly, he shook his head. Now's not the time.

But if it wasn't, when was?

Robert Lightwood stood in front of the gates. In front of him were the two people her eyes had been scouring over for ever since being pulled from the house. The wind from the Portal blew over them. Clary had Heosphoros in her hand.

Eliza jerked free of her mother's grip and took off. She weaved through the burgeoning crowd of Shadowhunters before making it to her destination.

"You're okay! Thank the Angel." She pulled her sister in for a side hug.

Clary hugged her back. "Mom and Luke?"

Eliza nodded her head in the direction she had come. Jace put his hand on the place where her neck met her shoulder. "There was another attack?" She looked at Robert Lightwood. "Where is he?"

Jia Penhallow cut through the crowd, making her way to the side of the Portal. "Sebastian Morgenstern has attacked the Adamant Citadel! All Nephilim who are armed and ready, come to me! We must help our Iron Sisters!"

Eliza swallowed. She looked back into the crowd, her gaze connecting with Luke's. No, his face said. She had to go. Chances out of Alicante were few and far between and she couldn't pass it up.

"I'm going." She stated, looking back at the Inquisitor himself. "Let me go."

"Liz-." Jace started.

"Eliza, you aren't an adult yet. We have the numbers without having to send in children to fight."

She wasn't a child, not by any means except the law. She had never been a child. Only a soldier. A warrior. Someone to fight and someone to win.

"If you want this over, if you want him dead, you'll send me through that Portal."

Jace gracefully, carefully, pulled her away from his adoptive father. The gold of his eyes was dark with questioning. "What are you hiding?" He asked.

Robert said nothing in response. Just then, two women in gear walked behind them. Both were talking animatedly about the attack. Capturing the Endarkened warriors. Turning them back, saving them.

Eliza frowned. Didn't they know…?

"You can't be serious." Clary whispered, meeting Robert's eye. "You can't let people whose loved ones are Endarkened go through that Portal. And you can't keep letting them think that their relatives can be saved."

"We aren't sure of all the possibilities." Robert countered.

"There aren't any possibilities." Eliza told him. "Only one. Those people can't be saved or fixed. What's done is done. They aren't Shadowhunters anymore, they aren't even human."

Clary agreed with her. "If you send those people through that Portal, they're going to meet their family members in battle, and they'll stop. They'll hesitate and-."

"And be killed." Jace cut her off. His face was pallid with disbelief. "You can't let this happen." Robert said it was the decision of the Clave and it would be done. "There's no point in sending them. Save yourself some time and energy and just kill them here and now."

"This is not a joking matter, Jace!"

"I wasn't joking."

Shadowhunters were starting to be sent through the Portal. Old, young. Completely decked in gear and weapons. Jia Penhallow was directing them, encouraging them. Sending pigs to the slaughter with a few energized words.

"Fifty Shadowhunters can take twenty Endarkened." Robert told them.

"You really think he only has twenty soldiers with him?" Eliza asked. "My brother is a lot of things, but he isn't a fool." Robert said there was no way he had backup. He had attacked by going over land and their luck in having been watching the Citadel was a gift. "You're being reckless and stupid. You're sending people to their deaths."

"He's a boy!" Robert shouted at her. "Sebastian Morgenstern is just a boy! He can be beat, and he will be. Today." At that, he turned and stormed towards Jia.

Eliza licked over her bottom lip. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword. Her eyes were glued to the Portal. One chance. Another most likely wouldn't come. She glanced around. No one was really paying any mind…

"Liz?"

His voice, always that sweet gasp of air after being under the water for so long. The first hint of sunlight after a storm.

"Hmm?"

"What're you thinking…?"

She swallowed before meeting his eye. "That I love you." She smiled. "And, I'm sorry."

His smile, quick and easy, fell to a frown. "Sorry? For what?"

"Liz, what-?" Clary began.

"I love you guys, but don't follow me. And tell Mom I'm sorry, will you?" She looked at Clary. "What, Liz-?"

She pushed past them, walking quickly in the direction of the Portal. Blood pumped loudly in her ears, blocking out the sound of the two people she loved most yelling her name. Her pace quickened and she was running. The Portal brightened the closer she drew to it, the wind heavy and strong. Gravity ceased to exist as she jumped through and she became weightless.

In hindsight, her only issue with her decision was that she did not bring a coat. It was cold, and with the nighttime, colder still. Snow coated the ground, ice slicked the spots where snow was bare.

"Liz!"

Her shoulders tightened. Her head whipped back to see her boyfriend and her sister running towards her. Annoyance shot through her. They never listened.

"Are you two nuts?" She hissed. "What part of don't follow me did you not understand?"

Clary stared back at her. "Did you really think we were just going to stay behind?"

Eliza sighed, relaxing her shoulders. No, she supposed she did not. But one could hope. "Go back. Right now. This is my fight and I don't want you two anywhere near it. If he hurts either of you-."

Jace reached out with his free hand, taking hers. He held an unfamiliar longsword in his other hand. He squeezed her hand gently. "He won't. And really, we can't go back. They closed the Portal right after we came through."

Fantastic.

"You're stuck with us." Clary grinned.

The whole situation made her uneasy. Not just the fact that she had put herself in the middle of fight against Jonathan and his force of Endarkened (there had to be more than twenty). More than anything, it was that Clary and Jace had blindly followed her into said fight.

Once again, she was the reason they were in danger.

"You're both incredibly stupid for-."

Her own words were halted, completely abandoned as the Adamant Citadel appeared before them. She had never seen the Citadel, let alone thought she would ever see it with her own eyes. But there she stood. There it stood. Purely made from adamas, gleaming like a beacon against the darkness of the night. The Citadel was circled by a wall, also built from adamas, that only had one gate to pass through. Fashioned as two magnificent swords dashed into the earth.

The massive scape of the world continued to stretch out beyond the Citadel. The volcanic plain they stood on, the flurrying snow. Everything and nothing.

And there, in front of the gates were spots of blood red. Closing off access to the Citadel. Denying any aid that the Shadowhunters sent could give. The Endarkened.

Eliza gripped her sword and silently wished she had another weapon. Or two. Perhaps a couple seraph blades, a few throwing knives.

"Where is Sebastian?" Clary asked quietly. "Or the Iron Sisters?"

That was the million-dollar question. Where was Jonathan staking himself out? He was too unpredictable, there were too many possible scenarios. He could be locked away in the Citadel, hording the Iron Sisters in with him. The Sisters could be dead. Or, and she wasn't sure if she favored this idea or not, he was staged as an Endarkened. Hood up, face covered. Lying in wait like a snake in the tall grass.

"The Sisters will be inside the Citadel. Protecting what they can." Jace answered. "He's here for the weapons, I think."

There was no doubt in her mind that Jonathan had attacked for the sole purpose of the weapons stored inside the Citadel. She didn't think there was anything else in there worth his attention. "The Iron Sisters would sooner tear down the Citadel than let him in the armory. And he knows that-."

A high-pitched scream cut off the rest of her words. Jace moved forward towards the Citadel but she jerked him back. She spun him backwards, towards the scream. The blood-chilling noise came from a Shadowhunter, falling to the ground as the blade of an Endarkened protruded from his chest.

The Endarkened looked up from the body. He was large, thickset, seeming bigger even in the dark red gear. Blond hair, terrorizing grin not so unlike the one her brother sported.

"Jason!" It was the same woman they had heard back at the Gard talking about the possibility of saving the Endarkened. "Please stop this, Jason." She pleaded, stepping towards him.

The Endarkened withdrew another weapon from his gear belt, eyes narrowed in anticipation.

"Don't!" Clary warned her. "Don't get any closer!"

Unsurprisingly, she didn't listen to Clary's warning. She was just inches from him. Only a step or two from his grasp. "This isn't you, Jason. You're a Shadowhunter, Nephilim. Sebastian Morgenstern can't make you do anything you don't want to. Come with us and we can fix you. We can-."

The man- Jason- let out a dark laugh as his secondary blade slashed out towards her. The woman's head slid off her shoulders. Nausea rolled through Eliza's stomach as dark blood puddled on the ground, seeping and turning the snow dark.

Screams erupted throughout the crowd.

"Eliza…" Jace murmured.

She blinked and looked back at him. He was pointing ahead. From where the Portal had been, a force of Endarkened were marching towards them.

Trap. It was a trap. She knew it.

The Shadowhunters around them rose to a panic. They had been told only twenty Endarkened. This was too many. Too many to fight. Too many to survive against.

"Hammer and anvil!" Jace shouted out. "Hammer and anvil!"

Eliza grabbed onto him by the wrist. "Jace." His eyes were darting around, surveying. "Jace!" They snapped back to her, dark with worry and…something. "Get Clary somewhere safe. Somewhere she can make a Portal. You have to get these people out of here, they won't make it."

"Liz-."

"Jace." She stressed. "This is it, okay? This is where we say goodbye."

He shook his head fervently, whispering no over and over. "I'm not doing that. I'm not saying goodbye."

She swallowed, throwing a wayward glance to the oncoming enemies. Closer and closer. Time was of the essence and she didn't have much to work with. Not enough to kiss him properly, like she wanted, to let the contents of her heart pour out. She didn't have the time to tell Clary how much she meant to her or how proud she was to have such a kickass little sister.

There was never enough time.

"Keep her safe. Protect her."

"Lizzie-."

"'Til next time, Jace."

She shoved him backwards. His eyes met hers one last time and with the gaze, she knew he was resigned with understanding. She watched him grab Clary's wrist and pull her away.

"Liz!" Her sister called out.

But she didn't answer.

She relaxed her shoulders, closing her eyes for only a moment. Balanced Eosphoros in her grip. Protect them, Raziel. It's all I'll ever ask. A deep breath before she let the slow-building and ever present wave of darkness rise up inside her. A mixture of everything bad- anger, resentment, fear- pent up and stored away. Just for this, when she needed it most. Not as blatant as when she had been tied to her brother, but enough to give her an extra boost.

She opened her eyes just in time to see an Endarkened headed straight for her.

Eliza drew up her sword and lunged for the Dark Shadowhunter. His blade met hers with a clang of metal against metal. Jonathan's Endarkened were strong, stronger than normal Shadowhunters. So, maybe if she had been a normal Shadowhunter, she would have been beat. But she wasn't.

She forced his sword down and swung again, knocking the weapon from his grasp. The sword flew through the air and landed several feet away. She slashed back, the edge of her sword slicing against his chest, through the gear and straight into skin. The Dark Shadowhunter fell back into the snow.

"Here we go, then." She muttered as she adjusted her grip. And then she turned her sights to the Citadel. "I'm coming, Jonathan."