I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling mistake.
"Ready to go?"
"Yeah." Simon nods at me, tucking his hands into the pockets of his brown jacket in apparent nonchalance, as if I don't already know he's only done it to hide the fact they're shaking. "Sure. If you are…"
I grab his forearm, thus putting an abrupt end to his ramblings.
"Simon." I say in my most authoritative tone, commanding him to calm down. "We're just going to your house. You're going to explain to your mom you won't be home for a few days because you've got to practice with your band. You have a place to crash and you're going to be fine. Clear?"
He opens his mouth to protest, something along the lines of 'It's going to be a lot more than a few days and committing treason is hardly as harmless as band rehearsals.', but I squeeze his arm (perhaps a little too harshly), interrupting him before he can utter a word.
"You're going to be fine." I tell him, this time as encouragement rather than instructions. "Just don't start babbling like this."
"But I'm really, really, really bad at lying." He shakes his head, starting to babble exactly as I'd just told him not to. "They're going to see right through me and they'll want to know what's going on and how do I explain to them that I'm..."
"Look," I struggle not to show my frustration; he's nervous enough as it is and additional pressure from me wouldn't help. "If you want to help us save Clary, without endangering other people you care for, you have to do it. She'd do it for you, wouldn't she?"
That renders him speechless. I regret having to remind him of Clary's fate, but it seems to be the only thing that can strengthen his resolve. He needs something to fight for.
"Let's go." I pull him into the elevator.
On our way out, we bypass a few older Shadowhunters who are heading in the opposite direction. Luckily, everyone in the Institute is so busy these days nobody pays the slightest bit of attention to our comings and goings. To the Clave, me and Simon are just a rookie who wants to prove herself and her puppy. The only person whom is a challenge to avoid is Mom.
"Luke will meet us at your place?" I check with him once again when we're out of earshot.
He nods. "He's going to kill me for not having noticed Clary was gone."
"You couldn't have known she was going to follow Jace." I say reassuringly.
"I should have expected she would." He sighs, disappointed in himself. "When the Clave got the Cup, she lost the only thing she could trade for her mother. I should have known she would try to rescue her on her own."
He looks crestfallen; the loss of Clary has taken a great toll on him. He's been exceptionally good at keeping it all together so far, but I can tell he's not far from cracking. It doesn't help that he's going home – it's a place that he also associates with her, with their old lives. Lives in which they weren't hunted by a power-hungry lunatic who is also Clary's mother's ex-husband.
"She'll be fine." My words don't sound utterly convincing to my own ears, but if I don't believe them, how can Simon? "She's got Jamie with her."
Simon looks at me in bewilderment, as if he's not sure if I'm being serious or making fun of him.
"I suppose we can hope Valentine will get tired of the two of them barking at each other and hand them over peacefully just to get rid of them." His tone isn't entirely ironical; I find it hard to suppress a laugh. "Hardly, but…"
The laugh fades away from my lips all too soon. I wish it were that easy. Jamie and Clary are simply too valuable pawns to be handed over. With them under his thumb, Valentine can force Jace to do whatever he wants him to. It's what it all comes down to in the end – Valentine assessing his son's loyalties.
When we finally reach Simon's place, a cute little house covered with ivy, with flowers decorating the balcony and the window through which I can see shadows moving (Simon's mom or his sister), Luke's already there, waiting for us.
"Luke." Simon looks beyond relieved to see a familiar face and the werewolf seems equally as glad to see him alive and well.
"Are you okay?" He asks, shooting me a threatening glare that promises trouble if Simon's answer is anything but positive.
I choose to ignore him.
"I…I'm okay, but Clary…"
I can tell by the choking sounds he's making that Simon has no idea how to say what's got to be said, even though he insisted he needed to tell the story to Luke in person. According to what he told me about Luke, the guy's basically Clary's father; I understand why he's having trouble finding the right words, but we don't have all day, so I decide to step in.
"Why don't you go talk to your mom and I'll fill him in?" Gently, but unyieldingly, I push Simon towards the door that lead to his house.
"I…"
"We'll play nicely, I promise." It's only after those words come out of my mouth that I remember Simon doesn't know much about tensions between Shadwhunters and Downworlders, so my choice of words doesn't really matter.
With one final pleading glance at us, Simon finally enters the house. I check the street for any unwanted ears and then I turn to Luke, who's staring at me with his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest.
Seriously, he thinks I'll be intimidated by that?
"When I last saw her, Clary convinced me to let her come with you." He growls at me; for a moment, his eyes flash gold menacingly. "Two days later, she's gone."
I force myself to retell the events that have happened since we parted ways at Renwick's in the calmest tone I can muster. Of course, I skip the part about Valentine being Jace's father, our plans for stealing the Cup and the fact that I'm supposedly pissed at Alec for his betrayal. The less people know what's really going on behind the curtains, the better.
"I shouldn't have let her go with you." Luke says after I finish. He looks even more pissed than before. "I should have taken her with us. She would have been safer with me."
I'm just about to point out that it isn't our fault that Clary's got self-sacrificing tendencies, but we're interrupted by Simon's return. He looks relieved, which I take as a good sign.
"I think they believed me." The relief evaporates from his features as he looks at me. "Did you tell him…"
I nod as an answer to his unfinished question. He swallows hard, but gathers his courage and turns to Luke.
"Luke, I'm sorry, I should have kept an eye…"
"I'm not mad at you, Simon." Luke cuts him off; I feel the accusation in his tone and it's not directed at Simon. "I'm mad at myself for letting you and Clary out of my sight." And at the Shadowhunters for having been so careless they let Clary wander off straight to Valentine.
"Do you have any idea where she could be?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
His narrowed eyes meet mine again.
"You were in the Circle once." I say directly before he can answer; I don't have the strength to play yet another game. "Do you know of any place Valentine could use as a hideout? Where he could have taken her?" And Jamie?
He studies my face for a few moments, as if trying to decide if I was too rude to be given an answer.
"He and Jocelyn used to live in the Fairchild manor." He replies finally, shrugging his shoulders. "But it was burned down years ago. We all thought he and their son had died in the fire."
Their son? I glance at Simon, but he doesn't look surprised. It seems he and Clary have neglected to mention some things (though, it's not like I can call them out on it, given that we haven't been completely honest with them either). So, if Jace is Valentine and Jocelyn's son, that means… Jace and Clary are…half-siblings? Or maybe even full-blooded siblings? By the Angel.
I want to say something, but the promise I made to Jace keeps my lips sealed. It's his secret and only he can decide when and with whom he wants to share it. So I open my mouth to ask whether there is any other useful clue we could follow, but I never get the chance.
Suddenly, something knocks me over and I fall on the ground. A moment later, I find myself staring at the black depths of a demon's mouth, its teeth trying to bite off my head. Its breath smells of rotten flesh, drops of acidic saliva dripping onto my hair. I grab its head and try to force it away from my jugular vein, but I don't have the strength to shove it away.
Just when my arms start giving way, the demon suddenly disappears. I jump onto my feet, whip in hand, and look around, searching for a target. I notice a werewolf running its teeth into another demon, thirst for blood sparking in its emerald eyes. I turn around, looking for the demon that nearly took off my head, but I'm completely taken aback when I notice another werewolf biting its leg off.
I don't have the time to figure this out, because another two demons appear at my side. My whip wraps around one demon's leg and knocks it off its feet, leaving burning marks in its wake, while I pierce the other demon's heart with an accurately thrown blade. The air is filled with screeching of the demons; with a grin on my face, I silence mine with a stab of a heel through its throat.
And people say high heels are only useful when one wants to look pretty.
My ears filled with the sound of the demon choking in its own blood, I register the sound of an enemy behind my back a heartbeat too late. But when I turn around (half-expecting a harsh pull at my hair), the demon lies dead at my feet with an arrow in its back.
"You really ought to be more careful, Isabelle." I separate my eyes from the demon and direct my gaze at the owner of the familiar voice. "Had I not been there, you would be dead."
"Meliorn?" He smirks at the disbelief in my voice. "What are you doing here?"
"You told me to meet you tonight." He walks over to me gracefully; one of the many gifts the Fair Fold possesses that are beyond appealing. "Do you not remember?"
Shit.
I did tell him to meet me tonight, but it was ages ago and with everything that's happened, I completely forgot about it. What he and I share might only be a matter of physical attraction, but only an idiot would make a mistake of ignoring one of the Fair Folk. They're not particularly good at forgiving or understanding.
"I…" It takes a few moments for my sleep-deprived mind to connect the dots and launch a counterattack. "We were supposed to meet in front of the Institute."
"I was there." He says with a note of amusement to his voice that sends shivers down my spine. "I saw you and your mundane companion walk past me as if I was invisible."
Of course, he could have let us know he was there, but he didn't. I bit my lip nervously; what did he hear that he wasn't supposed to?
"Can you imagine my most unpleasant surprise," A cruel grin appears on his lips, "When I learned the Clave had retrieved the Mortal cup and didn't bother to notify Downworlders?"
"The Mortal Instruments are Shadowhunters' business." I counter immediately with an air of superiority, but on the inside I'm mentally slapping myself for having made such a foolish mistake. "Not yours."
"They are a weapon that, in the wrong hands, can wipe out the entire Downworld." He says matter-of-factly; I can't belie him. "If the Clave wants peace, they should be more honest with their allies."
I don't miss the hidden meaning of his words; if we continue to keep the truth from Downworlders, they'll turn from allies into enemies. We simply don't have the means to handle both Valentine and a possible rebellion at the same time. We need Downworlders on our side – or at least, not against us.
A loud cry reaches my ears, interrupting my musings about politics.
Simon.
I run for the source of the whimpers, my heels clicking against the asphalt. I find Simon sitting on the ground in the closest side alley, leaned on a wall that surrounds the yard of a neighbouring house. He's surrounded by two figures; I recognize one of them as Luke, but the dark-haired girl with curly dark hair and amber eyes kneeling next to Simon is unfamiliar to me.
"Oh, God, please no." I hear her whisper in horror. My heart starts pounding wildly again. "Please, no."
"What happened?" I ask nobody in particular as I kneel down next to the girl. I notice blood soaking the left pants leg of Simon's jeans; when I tear the fabric apart to reveal the wound, I find traces of teeth on his skin.
"I had to get him out of the way." The girl says without looking at me; I'm not exactly sure as to whom she's trying to convince. "I tried to grab just his clothes, but I…"
"It's okay." Simon addresses her softly, but his voice isn't entirely even. "I'll be on my feet in no time."
"It's not that." I say breathlessly, noticing I'm holding my stele. I don't even remember reaching for it; it must have been an instinctive reaction. But it's of no use now; even if Simon wasn't a mundane… "You…You could be Turning."
He blinks, then chuckles nervously, as if waiting for me to drop the act and laugh in his face.
"Turning?" His face grows paler with every silent second that passes. "Into…"
"He needs to stay with us." Luke interferes, looking at me. He isn't asking this because he distrusts me; his eyes are wide with fear for Simon.
I can't think of any counterargument. He's right. Staying with Luke's pack is the best thing for Simon right now, at least until…
"When's the next full moon?"
"In three days." Luke replies straightaway. "We'll take care of him. If he does Turn…"
"Let me know." I insist firmly. I feel responsible for this; Simon would never have got anywhere near danger if I hadn't insisted he went to talk to his family. I just wanted to avoid any inconveniences that would come with a mundane disappearing off the face of the Earth without a proper explanation. If only I hadn't been so stubborn… "Please. But just me."
My desperation must be clearly written all over my face; Luke nods in agreement.
"Do you have a phone?" He asks, taking his own cell phone out of his back pocket.
I do have a phone, but it's not mine; it belongs to the Institute. Luckily, Clary had left her cell phone in the Institute before she went after Jace, so I smuggled it, hidden in a cup turned upside down, to Jace when I once brought him a meal. So far, that means of communication hasn't failed us, but I haven't counted with me and Simon separating. I need his cell phone to keep in touch with Jace, but if Simon stays with Luke…
"Take mine." Simon takes his cell phone out of the pocket of his jacket. When I open my mouth to object, he silences me by putting the cell phone into my hand. "I'll use Luke's if I need to contact you."
I smile at him gratefully as I take the cell phone. I don't think I've ever meet a guy as good-hearted as Simon (and I've met quite a lot of guys). Despite everything that's happened to him (and despite some of it being my fault), he's always so kind to me. I can't escape the feeling that I don't really deserve it, but this isn't the time to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Thanks." I put the cell phone into my jacket and then get onto my feet. "I need to get back." I turn to Luke, who nods solemnly. "Please, call me as soon as you know anything."
"Be careful." He tells me in a more caring tone than I would have expected, glancing at the main street where we fought demons only a few minutes ago – side by side. "There are other demons where those came from."
Meliorn. I suddenly recall my sort-of-boyfriend, but when I emerge back onto the main street, he's nowhere in sight. He must have run off to notify his Queen of the new developments. I let out a frustrated hiss, cursing my own carelessness and the duplicity of the Fair Folk. Shit.
I don't think this evening could become any worse, but I'm proven wrong when the first person I come across when I return to the Institute is Mom.
"Where have you been?" She demands the moment she sees me exiting the elevator.
"I went to Simon's." I answer coldly as I pass her by. "His mom was worried, so we went to his house so he could tell her he wouldn't be around for a couple of days."
There's a moment of silence as she analyses my words, probably so she could come up with some complaint.
"And where is the mundane now?"
I pause in my steps. Simon, mom. His name is Simon.
"His mom insisted he stayed at home for a day or two." I say without turning around to look at her. It's the only believable explanation I've managed to come up with. "She wouldn't let him leave so soon. I had no choice but to leave him there."
"Isabelle, do you have any idea…"
"I'm not an idiot!" I cut her off, turning around so I can look her in the eyes. I'm too tired for her endless flow of questions and doubts. "I made sure nobody followed us. I made sure nobody saw me. Simon will keep quiet about us. Now excuse me, I want to go to bed."
"Isabelle…"
I start running, giving my best to ignore the sound of her voice. I don't care how childish that act makes me look; I really don't have the strength to deal with this.
Jamie would handle this much better. I think to myself as I run through the corridors with tears in my eyes. I miss her more than I even thought I could. She's always had the knack for acting. She'd keep up the pretence for as long as necessary. She wouldn't be cracking two days into it.
I burst into my room and slam the door shut. Breathing heavily, I close my eyes and turn around to lean onto the door. My back slides down the wood slowly as my legs give way. When I land on the floor, I grab my hair and rub my scalp, trying to force my overwhelmed mind to relax just for a moment.
"Tough day, huh?"
My head snaps upwards; I notice a guy standing next to a bed – that's not my bed.
Demons' attack, Simon being bitten, Meliorn learning about the Cup, Mom's questioning, and now this? By the Angel, can this day become any worse?
"I'm sorry." I scramble to my feet, using the doorknob to support myself. I keep my eyes on the floor, hiding my flushed cheeks from the guy's gaze behind the locks of my hair. I don't think I've ever felt this awkward in my life. "I…I didn't mean to disturb you."
"If your intention was not to disturb me, you are just in time." The light-heartedness of his tone makes me swallow down my shame. I glance at him through my eyelashes; for a moment, I allow myself to be bewitched by the teasing smile playing on his lips. He bends down and reaches for something on the bed; when he stands up straight, he's holding a violin and a bow. "I was about to practice, but you'd caught me just before I began."
I smile against my will. It's probably the genuineness of his tone that gets me, without a single flirty note to it. His olive-green eyes are glued to my face, which kind of surprises me; most other boys would steal at least a glance at my body. Perhaps I should introduce him to Alec.
But I can't even look at Alec with anything but anger in my eyes, let alone play matchmaker. If the wrong people were to see us…
"I better go before you start." I reach for the doorknob with my hand outstretched behind my back. I don't really want to let his handsome face out of my sight just yet. "I'm really sorry for bursting in like this."
"It's alright." He nods. The smile vanishes from his face and I actually feel robbed. "I would be distracted in your situation too."
I feel cold dread cutting through my stomach like a knife. I swallow hard, not trusting myself to say a word without falling apart. It'll have to wait until I'm surrounded by four walls of my own room; I just have to make it there.
"I'm sorry." He says remorsefully. "I shouldn't have brought it up."
"I'm thinking about it all the time." I shrug my shoulders tiredly, feeling tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
I feel so alone. Simon was the only ally I had, the only one I could talk to, but now he's gone too – and it's my fault. Sometimes I feel like Max is the only one of my family I've got left, but he's too young to carry the burden of being my confidant. I need Jamie back and Alec and Jace at my side. I need them desperately.
I yawn and rub my eyes in the best imitation of need for sleep, but I don't think I've fooled anyone.
"I should go." I open the door and rush out without waiting for an answer.
Luckily, the corridor is empty and my room is only a door far; a heartbeat later, I'm inside my (locked) room, lying on my bed, trying to keep it all together – and failing. I feel everything falling apart within me, my broken thoughts assembling in my stomach like a pile of broken glass. Tears I've been holding back for days start pouring down my cheeks and soon I feel salt on my tongue, choking on the taste of it as it were blood.
A gentle sound somehow makes it past my heavy sobs, maybe just because it soothes my soul, rather than cutting through it cruelly. It's a classical piece, but I'm too tired and too uninterested to try to remember exactly which one.
(Jace would know instantly. And Jamie. And Alec. And even Max.)
Pushing the thoughts of my family aside, I hold firmly onto the soft melody, pricking my ears so I can hear it through the wall that separates my room from…
I remember the face – we crossed paths when he moved in, his parabatai introduced them – but I can't remember the name that goes with it for the life of me.
Black Swan. The name of the piece suddenly occurs to me. She appeared at the ball as Odette and tricked the prince into declaring love for her. Because of her and her father's schemes, the story ended in tragedy.
The melody follows me into the uneasy sleep full of twisting and turning.
I dream of a street I don't recognize, empty of life. There's no-one around me, not even in the buildings made of glass. Yet I feel like I'm being watched, my skin covered in gooseflesh. I force myself to move, but one step is enough for something to crack beneath my shoe. I look down and see dead crows with feathers as black as my own hair lying on the road, soaked in blood. Their azure eyes are glassy, their wings broken at their sides. I reach for one dead body, but the moment I touch it, all of them catch fire. Wind carries away the ashes that remain in the wake of flames before I can collect them; I can feel them, still warm, slipping through my fingers.
I sink onto the cold hard ground, my broken cries echoing the glass city. Nobody cares; there's no-one there.
Then darkness engulfs everything.