Chapter 2

She remembered her little sister.

Shiloh had an adorable overbite. Two of her top fangs shown like gleaming pearl daggers, and they pressed into the skin below her lower lip. Her silver hair that hung in ringlets and gleamed silver, almost ghostly white under the sunlight. She would go to her sister during the day in the Mundane World and spend the hours that the sun offered with her in the park with Kaelie. It was not hard for her to travel between the worlds, the Unseelie King, her father, really could care less what his daughter did. She might be his only female offspring, but he had sons to praise and his subjects to rule over.

Her half-sister, they shared their mother's blood. Rohan felt this need to protect her sister from the dangers that lurked in the shadows and the depths of night. Rohan crafted her a dreamcatcher while she was in the Unseelie Lands, so it would capture all of Shiloh's nightmares. She gave it to her on her fourth birthday, when she and her mother left Fairie with her father's knight, Noll, to visit her.

She made her little sister's gift out of white birch branches and silk threads, she even made a crescent moon out of moonstones that she fused together with one of her handmaiden's aid, that fit perfectly to the left of the dreamcatcher, wrapping the two together so it would not break with more silk thread, it stayed firm. She even added in Mundane objects she found in the world when she visited. They were tied at the bottom with ribbon replacing feathers that would normally be there. A four-leaf clover bracelet charm made out of silver, a piece of Mundane currency called a penny, some trinket made of plastic called a Lego, an old skeleton key to a house long forgotten, a button from a shirt, a bottle cap from a soda, a seashell they had found together when Kaelie took them to an actual beach, and from her very own collection of thingamabobs, an actual pearl.

Rohan leaned her head against the wall behind her and took off the floppy jean-made sunhat with a rather ugly looking supposed-to-be a rose flower on the front, and let it fall to the ground. She closed her blazing flame-colored eyes and tried to ignore her mother's screams of agony that echoed in the room where her mother was currently being subdued to the Mortal Sword. She curled into herself until she could rest her chin on her knees. The ugly hat was something her mother had found in a Salvation Army in the Mundane World to cover her daughter's pointed ears and ram horns that curled slightly above the points of her ears. She hated that store, it had reeked of mold, mothballs, and cat piss.

It did not match her silver leggings and tunic that she wore for training sessions with Noll. But Noll was possibly very-much dead by now, it probably did not matter. Her boots were scuffed and warm. She had refused to change her clothing just so it was approved by the Clave. If Shiloh was forced to watch her father's death, it gnawed at Rohan's soul that she was not able to be there to hide her little sister from the horror. Her fingers itched to wrap around the long knife she kept in a belt sheath around her waist that rested against left hip, more than that she wanted her tomahawk-style axe that her father had especially crafted her on her tenth birthday. It was the size of a battle-axe that could have been used by a man twice her size, she loved that axe. She was even going to name it, but now she would not have the chance because the Clave probably had both of weapons melted by the Iron Sisters. Rohan let out a groan of annoyance and finally allowed herself to breakdown into heart-wrenching sobs, because the life that she had known had now been tossed out from under her, it was if she was gripping on to the edge of cliff with her bare hands and now that had crumbled and she was falling into an unknown abyss.

Finally, being guilted by the fact that she felt disgusting and oily in her training garb, Rohan let the tunic and leggings fall to the floor after she kicked off her boots. She put on the stark-white dress that had been left for her. It bellowed down and nearly covered her bare feet, the Rune that her mother had put on her by using a stele, showed clearly against her pale skin. Rohan just thought it looked like a fancy magical quill without a feather, but her mother said it was an important tool for a Shadowhunter. Rohan had wanted to protest getting the Mark of mother's lineage being burned into her skin, but she bit her lip and gritted her teeth in order to bear the pain, she did not want to break her mother's heart. The Mark now had turned black like ink on the outside of her forearm.

What Rohan had wanted to be was part of her father's guard, a knight. But that longing desire was not going to come true either. If she was sent back to Fairie would the Unseelie King take her back under his protection or would she become a Wildling without a home? The title of Princess was only that and nothing more to her. But now, if she did not have it anymore, that meant that she did not have anywhere to go, which hurt her with more pain on top of her shattered her heart, more than she could withstand.

Her long ash black hair nearly reached her tailbone, she was not sure if she should try to pull it back or just to leave alone. She wiped her tear stained cheeks with her hands, and struggled to stop her eyes from blurring with the ugly stinging salt water again. What if they executed her mother? Or worse both of them? Her fears were beginning to crush her chest, and she struggled to breathe.

It was a knock at the door that dragged her away from her fears. A woman with short ink black hair with kind eyes and a soft smile, stepped into the room. She was wearing a pale blue dress with gold thread. Her Shadowhunter Mark was on the lower of her arm, near the crease of her elbow, but it was visible and shown like a freshly inked tattoo. She sat down next to Rohan, if Rohan remembered what her mother taught her about Shadowhunters being from all over the world, this woman may have been from China.

Rohan felt comfortable with this woman, she could tell that this woman must also be a mother. It was as if the woman's very soul and outer aura shined with an invisible white gleam of love and motherly protection. "My name is Jia. You must be Rohan?"

The half-breed girl nodded and clasped her hand in her lap, so tightly her knuckles turned white. She still could hear her mother's wails of agony in her head, and she could feel tears blurring her vision again.

"Your mother will be okay." She said softly, she had a brush in her hand and a piece of forest green ribbon to tie it back. "You shouldn't hide your face, sweetheart, you're so beautiful…"

Rohan turned around on the bench so Jia could fix her hair and also so the Shadowhunter lady could not see the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

As Jia braided Rohan's silky hair down her back, she handed the young girl a handkerchief that she kept in the pocket of her dress. "None of this is your fault, Rohan."

The reply that came from Rohan's mouth was bitter and chilled with ice cold loathing and anger. "My mother was the foolish one. Why was my father not good enough for her?"

Jia felt sadness deep in her soul when Rohan answered. How could a child so young as this, feel so angry? "People can fall in love more than once. You shouldn't blame your mother for following her heart."

"She was the one who dragged me here! I could have stayed with my family, with my father, and within the safety of my lands! If she was not so damn selfish and would only listen, then I would not be here being punished by her kind, your kind, just because of my mixed blood!" Rohan retorted, her blood felt as if it was boiling, her nails dug into her palms, as her hands curled into fists. "It wasn't right of her to drag me into her mess!" Even though she loved her mother and even though she hated to hear her mother wailing in agony, her anger was brought on by the fact that she did not understand how her mother could take her with her to the Lands of the Shadowhunters with the impending danger of the Cold Peace. Had she truly not known?

Once Jia was done plaiting her hair back, the Shadowhunter lead her to where the Council was waiting for her to enter. The room was so quiet and filled with tension that you could have heard a mouse sneeze. The council was up high their seats, they were seated as if they were the Gods and Goddesses of Mount Olympus, and Rohan was the small and insignificant mortal human waiting to be smited.

The Half-Blood daughter of the Unseelie King watched as Jia took her seat as the Consul and could not keep the piercing glare of the Inquisitor, a man with dark hair and dark blue eyes from making her shiver. He stood from his seat and approached Rohan, the Mortal Sword in his right hand.

The weapon that he carried was an enormous silver sword, a straight double-edged blade. If Rohan was not so terrified, she would have been in awe of the Soul Sword. She spent a lot of time with her father's blacksmiths that forged the weapons meant for his knights and their armor. She even borrowed massive tomes from the library to soak up the knowledge of ancient wars and just as old fighting styles. Right now, she wanted to be with her father standing beside her as he showed her how to use a longbow and how to apply poison to tips of arrows. She wanted her father to protect her from these cold hearted animals that dared to call themselves Nephilim.

Robert Lightwood set the sword in front Rohan, the swords tip now rested between her bare feet, placed by the ends of her big toes. The Inquisitor then roughly took her hands, she cried out in pain as her fingers were now wrapped around the hilt and no matter how hard she yanked and struggled to pull her fingers off the hilt, they stayed as if they were hooked in. The Mortal Sword was unnaturally heavy, it made her feel as if she had cinder blocks tied to her arms, and it was cold. It felt as if she fallen through the ice over a frozen lake in winter.

Robert Lightwood stood in front of her like a general. His eyes were flooding with authority and looked as if they were the dark ocean waters during a storm.

"What is your name, mutt?"

Rohan grit her teeth against the pain that tore through her mind as if she was being electrocuted. "Rohan, daughter of the Unseelie King and Esther Bloodkey…" she whimpered and tried to keep herself upright, she would not let the Inquisitor see her waver.

"What was the relationship like between your mother and your father?"

"He loved her…she loved him…until Mother met Noll."

"He doesn't love her anymore?" Robert Lightwood scoffed with a raised eyebrow, the fact that the Fae of the Downworlders could actually love someone, he found amusing.

"No, because she broke his heart."

"Then why did she stay with him?"

Rohan bit back a sob of agony, until she could taste blood in her mouth from her own lips. "For the protection he offered…and because of me…"

"So you're the reason your mother shirked her duties as a Shadowhunter and abandoned her family?"

The answer that she gave him was soaked with tears as she could not hold back the need to sob anymore. "Yes…"

"Did Esther Bloodkey give your father any of our secrets in order to stay under his protection?" the question was coated with scorn and disdain.

"I-I don't know! I didn't keep my ear pressed to their closed bedchamber door eavesdropping!"

Rohan could hardly keep herself conscious now, the world spinning around her and the face of Robert Lightwood faded in and out with blotches of nothing but blackness in between.

"Who is Noll? What role did he play in your father's court?"

"He is…was…one of my father's guards, until he was caught and given to the Wild Hunt as a gift." The Half-Blood girl cried out as the burns on her palms became worse and felt as if something was scraping in her mind like nails on a chalkboard digging the answers out of her memories.

"Why did the Unseelie King give his own guard to the Wild Hunt?"

"He found out that Shiloh…was not his and isn't dead like he was lead to believe." Saying her little sister's name felt as if someone was yanking it out of her mind like pulling out a dagger out of one's own skin.

Robert Lightwood stopped mid-pace and his eyes seem to burrow into Rohan's. "Shiloh? So your mother gave birth to another abomination?"

Rohan could feel blood pooling into her mouth from biting her bottom lip, it tasted like pennies. Glaring at the Inquisitor, she spat the crimson liquid at him, several droplets landing on his shiny new boots. "She isn't. We aren't abominations. She is my little sister and her father isn't the same as mine."

"Then who is Shiloh's father?"

"Noll." Rohan answered, gasping for air as if she was in a deep water, and even though she was treading water, she was starting to drown.

"What did your mother do with Shiloh. Where is the bastard cur being hidden?"

His questions hit her like a jackhammer and she let out a wail as another answer was yanked from her mind. She bit the inside of her cheek until blood filled the empty spaces of her mouth and trickled down her chin. "In New York…somewhere."

"Somewhere?" Robert Lightwood could feel himself becoming impatient with the mongrel daughter of the Unseelie King. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!" Rohan screamed, it echoed throughout the room. The wail was bloodcurdling, she leaned against the sword, her knees caving in as she landed harshly on the floor. With her head now resting against her own wrists, she allowed herself to cry. Truly weep, she wanted her father to save her, to tear the council to pieces. They would tremble in fear of the Unseelie King, probably pissing in their gear.

She was not going to give up Kaelie. She wouldn't. The Inquisitor had given her a tiny loophole, but she had managed to squeeze through it. He asked where Shiloh was, which she truly did not know. He had not asked who she was with.

"That's enough, Inquisitor Lightwood!" Jia shouted from her seat, she had risen from it and was now looking at Rohan with pity in her eyes.

He looked up at Jia. "I merely have one more question left." his gaze then fell back to Rohan. "What is your role in your father's court?"

"I am merely his daughter, a Princess by title." she answered and as his face was very close to hers when he went to release her hands from the invisible chains of the Mortal sword, she spat her own blood in his face, as it landed on his cheek and splattered, a grin that could be considered less than sinister flickered across her face.

Before he could rebuttal her for her rudeness, Jia came down from her high chair and handed him a handkerchief to wipe her "mongrel" life liquid from his face.

Once the Mortal Sword was back in Robert Lightwood hands, the Silent Brothers floated toward her in their dark robes, the hoods pulled over so she could not see their mutilated faces.

The Silent Brother, who had introduced himself as Brother Enoch when he showed her to the room where she would be waiting while her mother was intrigued approached her once more. The other beside him did not speak a word.

His voice came through her mind, gentle, not at all like what the Mortal Sword had done. "You will go back to Fairie."

"W-What about my mother?" Rohan asked, looking into the crowd of onlookers above. She easily spotted her mother's parents, her Grandfather Levi and her Grandmother Judith. The man with the bald spot and hipster eyeglasses was the one who had ratted her and her mother out to the Clave, her mother's brother, Uncle Alpheus. Beside him was his wife and four children.

"Your mother, Esther Bloodkey, was sentenced to become one of the Iron Sisters. She will become one of them with time, it is her punishment."

Rohan took a deep breath of air that hung in the Unseelie Lands and nearly fell to her knees. She was glad to be back in Fairie, but she had lost her mother to the Iron Sisters and did not have any clue where Shiloh was, she just hoped that she was safe.

Suddenly her father's arms were around her and his scent overwhelmed her as she pressed into his clothing. "You are safe now, Rohan. You are home."