Clary stared at the screen blankly, at a loss for words. There was simply no point in saying anything - the purpose of speaking is to communicate a point, and the GPS's reading had made the point clear enough.
"Are you sure?" Simon asked again, and Clary wished he wouldn't. She wished he wouldn't make her navigate the pixellated map again, prove to him once more that they were -
"Trapped," Izzy spat, as vehemently as if it were a curse. "We're trapped, Simon. Let it be."
Simon shook his head fiercely, as if his denial would change the GPS' reading, as if the too-steep contours of the valley around them would flatten if only he willed them to. But no matter how much he wanted to get out - how much any of them wanted to get out - the fact remained that they could not.
"What do we do now?"
It was Jace who asked it. The hopelessness in his voice almost made Clary wince - Jace was never anything but sure of himself.
"We wait," Simon said, taking control of the situation. "We wait until we're found, or until Magnus gets well enough to help us up this slope."
Huh. Not only was Jace unsure, but Simon was being decisive. Clary thought that if they ever made it out, Jocelyn and Luke may not believe those things.
Without much further discussion, the group settled back into their tents. Magnus and Alec were in theirs, both recovering, although Alec now had a bandage plastered to his wound and a stiff stick bound as a splint to his leg. Jace climbed into his tent, pausing at the threshold.
"Well?"
With a start, Clary realised he was propping open the tent-flap for her to get in first. As if he wanted her there.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Izzy smiling gently. Maybe all was not lost.
She took a deep breath and followed Jace into the tent.
"Jace - "
"Can I talk first?"
She gulped and nodded slowly. With what could have been a hint of a smile, Jace continued. "I know you're sorry. You've been trying to tell me that all along, and… I've heard you, Clary, but you know me. Hearing isn't the same as listening. To listen, you have to take what you're hearing seriously, and - and I'm sorry for not listening to you. You were right, huh? The GPS did more harm than good. And after all the division it caused, after how angry it made me, after my blind anger led to Alec getting hurt and Magnus spending most of his magic… I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."
She was silent for a second. "Me, not it."
"What?"
"You said 'the division it caused', and 'how angry it made you'. But it wasn't the GPS that did that. It was me. No matter whether or not I was right, I still made a stupid decision that could have proven harmful. I accept your apology, but I need you to know that I'm not willing to shake the blame."
His smile was full this time. "You're… you're so…"
"Wow. Jace Herondale, lost for words. That's got to be a first."
"I was going to say that you're incredible, but I rescind that and I'll instead say: you're so frustrating, Fray."
She laughed playfully, and he shook his head in earnest. "Really! You frustrate me beyond belief. And do you know why? Because even when I was mad at you, I still wasn't. I knew what you did was shitty, but I couldn't convince myself that you were shitty - and believe me, I tried. You frustrate me, because I've spent my life around frustrating people, and you are frustratingly un-frustrating."
"That sounds frustrating," she commented sarcastically, leaning into him.
"It is," he mumbled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as she fell into place next to him like a puzzle piece. "Incorrigibly so."
She slipped her fingers into his, the way she'd wanted to ever since their initial dispute. "Hey - I finally figured out what your fatal flaw is."
"I thought we agreed it was that I was selfish."
"It's not - you're not selfish, not self-obsessed, not even self-involved; you just care intensely for the people you love. You care so deeply about your loved ones, and you're afraid if others knew, they'd exploit that as a weakness. So you act as if you're the only person you care about, because if that's the case then nobody will ever hurt anyone to get to you." She paused. "It's not that you care too much about yourself - it's that you care too much about the people you love ."
She waited for a response, but none came. Twisting slightly to gauge his reaction, she found that he was watching her with tearful eyes.
"Jace," she whispered, regretting saying anything that would ever hurt him -
But then he kissed her. His lips parted hers with an intensity that she'd never felt before, an urgency that spoke more than any words ever could. It wasn't like before, a desperate attempt to communicate something inexplicable - it was an acknowledgement of the depths only they could traverse. It was a key to unlock a universe only they knew. It was a blinking light on the horizon only they could create.
It was sacred, it was powerful, and it was only ever theirs.
"Jace," she mumbled, his name a litany lost between them. "Jace."
And he said her name, and the world exploded around her head, a kaleidoscope of events that just so happened to lead them to each other. She didn't care who heard, who knew what they were doing - her heartbeat mixed with his drowned out everything beyond the touch of her skin.
Clary forgot how hopeless Jace had seemed. In fact, she'd never dwell on that broken plea of his again. Because right there, right then, they were a beacon of light in a smothering darkness, and there was nothing between them but hope.
"Alexander."
It felt empty with no one to say it to. Magnus knew Alec preferred his name truncated - it was simpler, and he didn't like to complicate simple things. But Magnus couldn't bring himself to simplify his name, because that would be simplifying him - and Magnus would never even attempt to strip away the intricacies of Alexander. It would be almost sacrilegious.
"Alexander," he repeated, although his audience had not grown in size. Even though Magnus was lying alongside his boyfriend, the only one listening was himself.
He wished Alec was conscious. He wished it had never ended up this way, with his magic so empty that he couldn't even mend broken skin. Thankfully, the runes had done what they could, but the healing process would be long, slow, and undoubtedly painful.
That is, if his magic didn't recover first. He could think of no other way to describe it than like an animal - it ran around within him, fearless and impulsive, until it was hurt or scared. Then, it would disappear without a trace, giving no indication of when it would return. What kind of animal is so independent, so apathetic? Magnus wondered. He scoffed to himself. A cat.
But looking at Alec… that made the feline enchantment within him purr back to life. He had noticed that Chairman Meow used to scamper away when large crowds were near, but the second the path was clear and Magnus was alone, he'd saunter up to the warlock with all the confidence of a white man. The magic within him was a bit like that - it wasn't afraid when it was around others, not quite, but it was more inclined to return swiftly when Alec was involved.
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he felt it in him. Magic was a constant thrum in his bones, a silent melody that never truly left him, but at this point in time was steadily building to a crescendo. It would return within a day or so, he imagined, and then - then, he'd properly heal Alexander.
But would Alec want that?
The doubt in his mind was quiet, but loud enough for him to pay it heed. He'd noticed in the past that although Alec was appreciative of his attention, he'd far sooner act for the good of them all than the good of himself. If Alec ever found out that Magnus had used the limited magic he had to heal him as opposed to getting them out of there… Alec had proven that he struggled to hold things against Magnus, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. It hurt him to see others hurt when simple things could alleviate their suffering.
And there it was again - that notion of simplicity. It seemed almost cruelly ironic, how simple things should have been, where in reality their predicament was more complex than any spell Magnus had ever performed. For the past few days, he'd been carefully navigating a complicated world of human emotion, fault and… humanity. He couldn't handle any more complexity - and from what Alec had said on that morning, it seemed he was of the same opinion. The bond they'd formed was primal, it was basic, it was simple - and that's what made it so special.
Magnus sighed, the last iteration of Alec's full name dying on his lips. Everything was too complex, and although Magnus wasn't usually against that, he was tired of it.
Taking a deep breath, he tried again. "Alec."
Simon could hear Jace and Clary in their tent. It was kind of gross, he thought, to be so close to the two of them when they were clearly in their own world. It also made him feel kind of… pathetic, really, to know that whilst they were making out like the world was going to end, him and Izzy were sitting a few metres apart in silence.
It wasn't because they were mad at each other - not at all. It was because neither of them had anything to say. Simon was worried, almost sickeningly so, and he wanted to scream about how he felt until his voice was hoarse, but Isabelle's self-imposed silence let him know she wasn't in the mood for talking. That was okay though - he was fine just sitting there.
Fine… albeit a little bored.
He looked at the ground around him, but found nothing but dirt to distract him from the plaguing worry. Hmm. He looked at the trees around him, their branches gnarled from decades of undisturbed growth. He wished he could see something beautiful in them, something artistic, something meaningful, but they… they were just trees. Nothing more, nothing less.
Trying not to show his increasing restlessness, he casually tilted his head upwards, surveying the full height of the torturous slope. It wasn't fair, had never been fair, but they were stuck with it.
And then -
A slight movement caught Simon's eye. He squinted, wishing his glasses weren't so dirty, but after a few seconds of concentration, he focussed on the moving object.
He couldn't believe it.
"Neville?"
If the rodent heard him, he didn't respond. He just carried about his business, clambering all over a thick branch in the tree above Simon. It had to be Neville - there was no other animal that was so baldly disrespectful of human presence and so small at the same time.
"What was that?" Isabelle asked, breaking from her reverie.
"Neville, I think," Simon mused.
Isabelle barked a laugh in response. "Really? Where?"
"On that branch," he said.
"Which?"
"The big one, above the…"
He trailed off.
Eureka.
"What? What is it?"
"The branch… it's above the slope. Like… right above it."
"So?"
"It's pretty thick, too."
Catching on, Izzy stumbled over to the bags, and combed through them until she found -
"Rope," she exclaimed, hoisting it into view.
"Will it be enough?" He asked, taking the coils in his fingers.
Using her frighteningly astute powers of observation, she nodded excitedly. "It… it looks like it'll be plenty." The smile fell from her face. "But how will the first person get up there?"
Simon thought for a second.
"Magnus. He may not be strong enough to get us all up there, but if he manages to get just one person - maybe Clary, because she'll be lightest - then we can get the rope over the branch and up to her so she can pull the rest of us up."
"Simon… you… you…" Whatever she was trying to articulate, she seemed to have given up, because without any warning she pulled Simon into a frantic kiss.
He was shocked at first, and expected it to be over as quickly as it happened, but the second their lips met, Izzy took her time. He felt himself melt in her arms.
The world seemed to stop until she finally released him. He felt like jelly, so helplessly in love with this angelic warrior. Noticing his shakiness, she laughed softly.
"Are you alright?"
"I… woah," he managed. "I wasn't expecting that."
"Well… you know what they say," she mumbled. He blushed. "It's the Lightwood motto: go big or go home."
"Magnus!"
Simon's sharpness took him aback. He propped himself up onto his elbows, one hand still in Alec's hair.
"We need your help."
"With what?"
"Are you… are you up to lifting one person out of here? Even if it's just Clary?"
Magnus paused. He wanted to say no, to save his recovering magic for Alexander. But he could hear Alec's voice in his head: do it for the good of everyone. And so he nodded.
Before Simon left to organise whatever he was planning, Magnus caught his anxious face break into a smile so pure it felt warm. Once he'd left, Magnus turned to Alec. He half expected him to be awake.
But he wasn't. He was still unconscious, as he had been when Magnus made that decision. With a start, he realised the voice in his head wasn't Alec's at all - it was his.
And so he stood up, took one last loving look at his boyfriend, and left his tent to go help the others.
Jace was undoing the last button on his shirt when Clary was yanked impatiently out of the tent. Although he'd been desperate for a solution to their problems earlier that day, Jace couldn't help but resent Simon's efficiency. Now, as he sat alone putting his clothes back on, he could hear Simon explaining to Clary what she needed to do. She seemed willing enough, and a tiny part of Jace took offence - what they had been caught up in was far more important than anything this realm had to offer.
And then he reflected on what he'd just thought, and almost laughed. God, he was useless when it came to her.
Once he was outside, his careless attitude became decidedly more sombre. There was an atmosphere of something happening, something monumental, something they had all been waiting for. It seemed that the elusive finish line was indeed in sight, then.
"Are you ready?"
Jace almost didn't recognise Simon's voice - he wasn't used to the mundane taking charge like this. His authoritative tone seemed to have taken more than Jace by surprise - Magnus' eyebrows inched upwards ever so slightly. Nevertheless, he nodded his consent. Looking to him, Clary did the same.
It was now or never.
Magnus walked to the foot of the slope, allowing the familiar thrum of magic to overtake him. By the time he was in position, the blue sparks were dancing across his fingertips of their own accord. Clary shot Jace a glance, one that reassured him that they'd finish what they had started in the tent once they got back home. He winked at her, and she laughed. It seemed strange, for her to be laughing in an atmosphere so tense, but she did nonetheless. Before Magnus faced away, Jace noticed that he was smirking too.
"Alright, biscuit, let's go."
The camp held its breath as Clary's feet slowly left the ground. Her ascent was gradual, but it showed no sign of faltering. She had her eyes squeezed shut, scrunching up her delicate face.
Finally, after a minute of heart-stopping levitation, Clary's feet landed firmly on the ground. At the top of the embankment.
Jace couldn't contain his 'whoop' of joy. His excitement was short-lived, however, as Magnus promptly collapsed to the ground.
Izzy rushed to his side, but he was already sitting himself upright. He waved away her attention, dismissing it as 'spending too little magic too fast'. Despite seeming like she didn't want to take that as an answer, Izzy let him be, and decided to go get Alec - he'd be one of the first transported up by rope.
By rope. Jace turned to Simon, who had the length of rope in his hands. He'd tied a large loop at the bottom, so the person ascending the slope could either put their foot in it as a support, or have it fastened around their waist to haul their body up. Catching Jace watching him, Simon grinned.
"Do you want to do the honours?"
"What?"
"Do you want to throw the rope up to Clary?"
"She's… she's going to pull us up by rope?"
"The rope will go over that branch," he corrected, indicating the correct bough. "That'll make it easier for her."
Jace took a step back, inspecting the branch. "I don't know… it's pretty high…"
"What do you mean?"
"Will we be able to get the rope up there?"
Simon froze. His features drooped noticeably. "Shit."
"I've got Alec," Isabelle announced, holding her brother as if he were a damsel in distress, and she his knight in shining armour. It was impressive, Jace thought, that she managed to hold him off the ground despite his lankiness. "He says hey."
"He's awake?" Magnus mumbled.
She nodded, walking over to him. "And he's asking for you."
She lay her brother down next to the warlock, the two of them looking worse for wear.
"Hey, Magnus," Alec whispered, his voice hoarse.
"Hey, Alec."
"Alexander."
"What?"
"Alexander. I… I heard you before," he managed.
"Oh."
"I like it," he said simply.
"Huh. Well - hey, Alexander."
Alec didn't reply - he just smiled to himself.
Jace turned his attention back to Simon, who was still clutching the coiled rope in despair. "We may as well try and throw it, right?"
Jace shrugged, and took one end of the rope from him. With all the strength he could muster, he threw the rope upwards. It barely made it a few metres before gravity yanked it back to the ground.
"Shit," he muttered. Clary, from the top of the slope, was looking down in concern. If they couldn't get the rope up, it would mean that she'd have to go by herself to get help. The thought of her all alone on a busy road with no place to shelter set a lump in the pit of his stomach.
"Jace."
He barely heard the voice, because he was gathering the rope back up and trying once more to throw it over the branch. He was going to make it, goddamnit. For Clary.
"Jace."
He flung the rope up, to no avail. He grunted in frustration.
"Why isn't this - "
"Jace!" It was Magnus' voice that got his attention. He turned to face the warlock, who was looking at him with disapproval.
"What?"
"Are you deaf, or just plain inconsiderate?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Jace," Alec repeated for the third time, his quiet voice measured. The irritation Jace had felt dissipated.
"What's up, Alec?" He walked over to them and crouched before his parabatai.
Groaning, Alec reached to the ground beneath his head. Jace moved to stop him, to tell him not to hurt himself, but by the looks of things, Alec was recalling his hand now.
With something clenched in it.
"What…"
Alec slowly, ever so slowly, unfurled his fist to reveal, in his palm -
A rock.
A plain rock.
Jace could feel the confused glances from everyone else, and even though he had a niggling feeling that he should know what Alec was hinting at, he didn't. Sensing this, Alec scowled. His limited movement and speech clearly made it difficult for him to communicate a point.
Shifting slightly (and wincing along with the movement), Alec tried again. "Loophole…"
And it clicked.
"Alec Lightwood, you are a genius. A fucking genius," Jace laughed. "I… I could kiss you right now!"
"Don't," Magnus snapped. Alec grinned.
"What did Alec do?" asked Izzy, but Jace was already scouring the clearing for a suitable rock. He settled upon a brown, vaguely cubic rock about the size of a fist. Once he had that in hand, he began tying the end of the rope around the rock. Catching on, Simon let out a triumphant cry.
"Alec! You're smarter than you look!"
The grin faded quickly.
The rope tied firmly around its girth, Jace held the rock in one hand. "Take three?"
"Take three," Simon nodded. Clary looked mildly worried.
Jace lobbed the rock into the air, and it sailed clean over the branch -
And swiftly began its descent.
To where Clary was standing.
"Watch out!" Izzy called, but Clary had already scrambled to the other side of the road, and the projectile landed a metre or so away from her, rope still attached. Shaking her head, she collected it from the ground, testing the branch's strength as she pulled at the rope. With her holding one end and Simon holding the other, the bough seemed to be holding up when both of them tugged on it.
The real test, it seemed, would be whether it could support the weight of a person.
"Who first?"
The question echoed around the campsite - no one wanted to be the guinea pig, in case the rope - or the branch - broke. Sensing the other's apprehension, Simon raised a hand. "I'll do it - but frankly, I'm offended that you all doubt me that much."
Izzy shook her head, trying to diplomatically deny the allegations, but Jace shrugged as if to say, 'that's fair'.
"You're insufferable, Jace Herondale."
"Back at you, Simon Lewis."
And in a strange way, that was as close to a wish of good luck that Jace was going to give Simon. Izzy, however, was much more blatant with her affection.
"Be safe," she whispered.
"I mean, I'll try - it's in my best interest to - "
And she silenced him with a quick kiss. Once she pulled away, he grinned sleepily. "Um… yeah. Good."
Laughing at his fumbling response, Izzy gently pushed him in the direction of the rope. "Go on. We don't have all day."
And so he turned to the rope, which was now looking unhealthily thin. Taking a deep breath, he put his right foot in the loop he'd made and held on tight. Clary, her face set with stony resolve, gripped her end of the rope with all the concentration of a tightrope walker. Although neither realised it, they slowly exhaled at the same time, their hearts pounding in their ears.
"Now or never," Simon said, just loud enough for Clary to hear.
"Three… two… one."
And she began to pull. She hadn't realised how much Simon weighed until now, and she was instantly glad that it had been he who'd gone first - he was the shortest out of the remaining five, and the slightest, too. He'd weigh the least. Then, once he was up with her, he'd help her lift the rest of them.
That was, if he made it up.
The rope felt tight under her fingers, as if it were one strain away from snapping. It was a relatively thick rope - the fibres were braided together securely - but the ominous feeling in the pit of Clary's stomach didn't go away.
Simon wasn't feeling great either. He was less than a metre off the ground, and the rope was already swinging side to side, making a pendulum out of him. He found himself leaning to counteract the swing, but he knew if he leant too far, he'd risk losing his grip on the rope. His hands felt sweatier by the second, which wasn't comforting, as the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground was his grip - his grip, and his full weight supported by a loop tied with a dodgy knot.
"You're doing great, Clary," Jace called up. A part of Simon felt he deserved some recognition too - after all, he had the very difficult job of not passing out in terror. He glanced at his feet and instantly regretted it - the ground looked miles away.
"Hey Iz?"
"Yeah?"
"How far off the ground am I?"
"About two metres," she replied. "Maybe three."
"Oh." It seemed more than that, but then again, the further you were off the ground, the more exaggerated the height seemed.
Simon didn't hear Jace lean in to Izzy and say, "Your estimations are shit. He's at least eight metres up."
And Simon definitely didn't see Izzy wink.
No, Simon was focussed solely on the task at hand.
Clary was focussed, too. Her hands felt dangerously slick with sweat, but she couldn't afford to let go - not unless Simon had his feet on solid ground. Her arms were straining at the effort, but she knew that it would have been worse without the bough of the tree to simplify matters. At this point in time, the only thought running through her head was a mantra - Don't drop Simon. Don't drop Simon.
She could hear the others talking, yelling, even, but she didn't focus on what they were saying. A tiny voice in her head, the voice that liked to play the devil's advocate, wondered if they were trying to warn her of something. The thought petrified her, and she paused her focus for a moment to listen to what they were saying.
"Keep it up, Clary. I've already died once. I don't fancy doing it again."
Simon. He sounded relatively close, but she didn't want to get too close to the edge in case the rope slipped due to the lack of tension. She wanted to snap something sarcastic back at him, but she found herself unable to speak from the strain of lifting him.
"I was just kidding, by the way. I don't think I'm going to die. I trust you."
Suddenly, she found herself in the same spot, about a week ago - where she and Simon had stood, rain pelting down, and contemplated jumping down to the others. He'd said, "Of course I trust you, Clary. I always have, and I always will." And then, his trust in her had led to him winding up in this mess.
Now, his trust in her was getting him out of it.
Huh.
Simon looked down again and blanched. He made a mental note to stop doing that.
"How far now?"
"Less than two metres."
"What? Last time I checked, I was five metres off the ground. This slope is fifteen, at least."
"Actually, it's twenty," Jace piped in, "and Izzy's been lying to you. Give it a few seconds and you'll be able to reach up to the edge of the slope."
Simon didn't know whether to be mad or relieved. He didn't have the energy to be mad, so he went with the latter option.
"Thank God," he mumbled weakly. The edge of the slope was indeed in sight, and, as he inched higher, he saw Clary. Clary, soaked in sweat, her pale skin bright red with exertion, her eyes fierce and her features stony. Clary.
"I… I could probably take it from here," Simon said, looking at what was left to climb. "I could use my arms to haul me up."
Shaking her head, Clary yanked him up the next forty centimetres. Now, he was able to crawl onto the road - he did just that. The second his weight was off the rope, Clary sighed with relief. She let go of her end of the rope, and luckily, the part that had supported Simon stayed hanging where it was.
"Clary," Simon gasped, the feel of solid earth underneath him more comforting than he'd ever thought possible.
"Simon," she answered through a gulp of air. "Thank God."
"Thank you," he muttered, but he knew he didn't need to say it - she could tell how grateful he was. She could read him like a book.
They decided Magnus would go next. In his fragile state, he would have to sit in the loop at the end of the rope, but he'd be capable of holding on tightly enough to stay put. Before Jace helped him over to the rope, Magnus squeezed Alec's hand tightly. Alec, who was drifting out of consciousness again, returned a weak smile.
With both Simon and Clary manning the rope, it should have been easier, but both were weary from the previous exertion. However, they managed to haul Magnus up without him getting hurt - even if it did take twice as long as before.
Jace wanted to send Alec up next, but Isabelle refused. "Clary and Simon are getting tired - we could send Alec up now, but then they'd have to pull one of us up without any reinforcements. You should go next - then you can help bring up Alec and me."
"Iz, I - "
"Please, Jace - trust me on this."
He paused, searching her face for so much as a flicker of doubt. When she showed none, he conceded, taking his place on the rope. "Alright - are we ready?"
"Yeah," Clary called down, although she didn't feel ready at all. She needed a rest. Her arms were burning and her whole body felt slick with sweat. Simon looked as ruffled as her, but she knew he wouldn't ask for a break. Not out of nobility, or protecting his honour, but because he was afraid of looking like a wimp in a bunch of warriors.
It wasn't fair, thought Clary, that Simon still didn't feel strong enough to admit to being imperfect. She didn't know if he was among the strongest in the group - in fairness, it was a tough competition - but there was no doubt he was one of the strongest people she knew.
"Ready?"
It was Simon that asked it this time. His voice was low, intended only for her. As if he knew the answer she gave Jace was forced. Slowly, she nodded. "Are you?"
"Always."
Huh.
There was something in his eyes, something so convinced of his cause, that Clary wondered if she'd misjudged him. Her assessment wouldn't have been inaccurate a few days ago - in fact, it was probably most obvious back then. But seeing him now, this renewed confidence… perhaps he'd realise that he was equal to the warriors he used to fear.
And perhaps it wasn't shame, but loyalty to these warriors that drove his persistence.
She didn't realise she was still staring at him until he raised his eyebrows. "Are we doing this, or what?"
Shaking free from her thoughts, she nodded once more - confidently this time. "Of course."
And so, with a renewed strength, the two of them hauled Jace up the embankment. As soon as the ledge was within arm's reach, he hauled himself up. Instead of thanking either of them, he took the rope from their hands, feeding it back over the branch so it would be low enough for Izzy to load Alec into.
"Go sit down with Magnus. Take a break."
"We're fine," Clary insisted, but Jace could tell her heart wasn't in it.
"No you're not. I mean - I wouldn't be. Not after hauling the weight of three people up a cliff in quick succession."
Whether or not this was true, Clary didn't know. Frankly, she didn't care. Jace had admitted to not being superhumanly strong - he only did that, only told the complete truth, when he was being sincere. When he was trying to persuade her to something for her own good. And so she sat down without a further word.
Simon still wanted to help, but Jace waved him away. He didn't deign to give Simon the same heartfelt pep talk as he did to Clary, but he did grumble, "you're redder than Clary's hair. Sit down."
Knowing better than to argue, Simon did.
Izzy didn't know why she'd felt so strongly about being the last one up. Perhaps because it meant carrying Alec over to the rope and tying him in - and who was she to ignore the symmetry of now and their arrival? Yes, she'd been holding Magnus when they were the first to tumble down into this new adventure, but if that hadn't've happened, Alec wouldn't have leapt after them. If she hadn't have tripped, no one would be here.
Did she blame herself for their misfortune? No. She knew better than to pine away over something that she couldn't change.
But did she want to do all she could to right a wrong that was arguably hers? Of course. Endlessly.
By now, she'd secured the rope around his waist. It did feel inhumane, tying him up like this, but there was no alternative - he'd understand. He'd have to.
Kneeling over him, she looked at his face. Her big brother, so motionless, so still. Almost calm, in a terrible sort of way. She hated seeing him so lifeless. It will all be over soon, she reminded herself, as if their wilderness experience had just been a nightmare she was destined to wake up from. It was true, though - it would all be over soon. It had to be.
"Ready, Iz?"
She stole one last glance at his tranquil features. "Ready."
And the lifting began.
Jace had overestimated his strength. He knew Alec was heavy - he was tall, and though he was thin, he was broad and muscular - but it felt like he was hoisting up multiple Alecs, not just one. In fact, he had broken a sweat before he'd lifted Alec a metre off the ground.
There was no way in hell that that would stop him, though.
He persisted, yanking the rope bit by bit until his fingers were red and raw and his hair was matted to his forehead. Until the shapeless lump of Alec's hanging body appeared in sight and Simon and Clary rushed to him. Only once the rope slackened from Alec's weight being taken off it did Jace dare to loosen his grip.
What he'd said to Clary was right - he wouldn't have been able to do what she'd done, even with Simon helping him - his arms were already singing with pain. And now, as she was supporting Alec's legs as she and Simon carried him to where Magnus was, he discovered a whole new reason to admire her.
Half an hour had passed since they had started when Isabelle finally took her place on the lowered rope. She looked out over the clearing that they'd called home for the past week. It was familiar, in an alien way. She doubted that she'd be able to find her way back here from somewhere else, but for now, she felt as if she knew every tree, rock, and stray leaf. Their tents and belongings were still there - they'd decided to come back for them, preferably with a crew who could speed up the process, once they'd gotten the medical attention that Alec and Magnus needed. Ironically, Magnus had been the only one to oppose this procedure, as it would mean leaving his clothes behind, and he would rather suffer than let his clothes get any dirtier than they were.
Isabelle laughed to herself. Out of all of them, Magnus had been the only one to bother getting changed every day - some days, Isabelle hadn't changed out of pyjamas, or, even worse, had gone to sleep in her normal clothes and hadn't bothered to change them the next morning. She sighed. Once they were back in New York, she'd have to go back to a schedule - not necessarily a bad thing, but it was nice to have a break.
Although, she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss showers.
"Ready?"
Of course she was.
The world swayed beneath her feet as Jace, Clary and Simon hauled her up. She had never been afraid of heights, so seeing the ground get smaller as she jolted upwards didn't faze her. In fact, she was rather enjoying it.
She was musing about how unexpectedly successful Simon's contraption had been when she heard something that twisted her stomach into a knot.
Creak.
As if the tree was groaning, begging to be released from this arrangement. As if the branch was going to snap.
"Simon? Clary? Jace? Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Creeeeak.
"Right. That. Um."
"How far from you am I?"
"No idea," was Simon's reassuring reply.
Trying again, she asked, "Does the branch look okay? Is it going to snap?"
"Uh…" a lethal pause. "No…?"
Well, shit. That wasn't good.
"Hey Iz - are you good at rock climbing?"
"Jace," she spoke, as if she were in the face of a furious beast that would go in for the kill if it detected fear, "don't joke."
"Unfortunately, I'm not joking."
Shit. Shit shit shit.
Creeeeeeeeeeak.
"What if I… what if you guys hold the rope still and I pull myself up? If I… I don't know, reverse abseil? Use my feet to almost walk up the embankment?"
Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak. And to finish it off, a slight snap.
"Yeah. Do that. That sounds good."
She turned herself around, facing the wall and placing one foot on the dirt. She hadn't noticed how weak her legs felt until now. Breathing deeply, she tightened her grip on the rope and slowly, ever so slowly, inched the foot in the loop out of the rope and onto the wall. For a few terrifying seconds, she couldn't find the solid earth beneath her feet, and she clutched the rope tightly to her, praying that the sweatiness of her hands wouldn't be her death. Finally, however, she found her footing. She stood with the embankment almost parallel to her, praying that her idea would work.
And it would have to work quickly.
"Make sure the rope stays tense," she yelled, and she could only hope that the others had heard.
Her heart pounding in her ears, she took one step. That was easy - it was just readjusting her stance so one leg was higher. The real challenge was the next one.
"Start pulling, guys," she ordered, but she couldn't tell if they had obliged or not.
Her blood singing in her ears, she stepped.
And she didn't die.
Her confidence slowly blossoming, she took another step, her paces small but sure. The rope remained tense, and she was gathering ground faster than she had been before.
In fact, she'd almost forgotten that the branch was verging on snapping at all.
That is, of course, until -
Crack.
For a few horrific seconds, the world vanished around her as she fell. The others may have screamed - she wasn't entirely sure. She didn't care. She didn't want to waste the last few seconds of her life listening - she wanted to think.
But the thoughts and the air were knocked out of her when she slammed back into the embankment, as Clary, Jace and Simon held the rope securely.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she grunted, but she wasn't. Her arms felt even weaker than before, and she'd lost precious ground in that drop. She knew it'd be harder now for everyone - the others had to support her full weight constantly, and she'd have to work twice as hard. But there was no other option - they were halfway there.
"Okay… let's go," she called up.
"Okay," they replied.
And taking another deep breath, she put one foot in front of the other. Her legs ached, and she knew she'd have a bruise or two by tomorrow. But there was no 'go back' option, so she'd just have to deal with it.
Gradually, she climbed the slope, taking a painstakingly long time to cover frustratingly little ground. If this had been a training exercise, she might have considered giving up. She might have, just might have, asked to take a break. But she couldn't do that - this wasn't a training exercise. This was real life. And if she stopped climbing, if Jace, Clary or Simon let go, if she let go, she'd get hurt. Badly.
Clary, Jace and Simon were all on the verge of tears, though they'd never admit it to the others. Their hands sang with intense pain from the rope burn they were forced to endure, and their arms were screaming from how tense they were kept. It wasn't that Isabelle was phenomenally heavy - she was lighter than Alec and Jace - but they were all so wearied from earlier activity that each tug was torture.
"Just a bit further," Jace grunted through gritted teeth. Clary hoped he was right.
Isabelle had stumbled only once on her journey up, which would impress her later (right now, she was too focussed on not dying to marvel at how close she'd come). Her rigid steps, her preternaturally tight grip - she was like a machine. She'd stopped thinking about the alternatives to making it to the top a long time ago - in fact, she'd stopped thinking at all.
But when the seemingly infinite dirt wall ended and she saw Jace, Clary and Simon on the other end of her rope, relief rushed through her. Her next step - her final step - was much larger than the others had been as she used whatever strength she could salvage to push herself onto solid, horizontal land.
And she lay there, sprawled out, rope still gripped tightly in one hand, until she felt Clary's hands gently shaking her to check if she was okay.
"I'm fine," she rasped. Was she? Not really. But then again, she wasn't dead. And that was really all she could ask for.
"We… we need to get out of here," Simon said. "Come on - we're so close, guys."
"We should wait until Izzy's okay, at least - "
Jace didn't get to finish his sentence, because Izzy was slowly but surely getting to her feet. Her arms and legs felt like jelly, threatening to give way, and her head spun, but she straightened herself up, looking him in the eye, and raised an eyebrow. She caught Simon's proud grin and arched her eyebrow higher.
"My bad," Jace apologised. She knew he knew she wasn't okay. He wasn't okay either. But he also knew that there was nothing that could stop Izzy from going home right now - not even him.
And so they began their weary journey. Izzy walked on her own, refusing the offer of a shoulder to lean on, and in turn having her own offer of supporting Alec or Magnus refused. Jace and Simon took Alec, each with one of his arms draped over their shoulders. His height meant his feet were dragging on the ground, but yet again they figured that in the scheme of things, Alec wouldn't mind. Before long, however, he sparked to life, asking to talk to Izzy. When she leant in, he whispered something that brought tears to her eyes.
Though he couldn't muster the energy to walk, he could keep his head upright and kept thanking Simon and Jace profusely. Simon had been accepting the thanks, and in turn thanking Alec for his idea with the rock, but Jace simply muttered, "Don't thank us yet."
Clary was left to support Magnus, who initially didn't want help. His decision was swiftly overturned, however, when he tried to walk and couldn't make it a few steps without feeling dizzy. So, Clary found herself with her arm around him, gently guiding him forward. Rather unusually, Magnus was quiet for most of the journey. In fact, the only thing he could bring himself to say was: "Thanks, biscuit."
They trudged along in relative silence until Izzy, who was leading their parade of misery, stopped in her tracks.
"Do you hear that?"
Clary paused, straining her ears.
Yes. She heard it.
The crunch of dirt under wheels.
Wheels.
A car.
The sky was darkening, but there was enough light yet for them to not fear getting hit. It didn't seem like the car was moving fast, either, so instead of scattering, they stopped. And waited.
After the car rounded the corner, it slowed to a halt about a metre from Izzy. She stood her ground. The windows were tinted so they couldn't see inside, but she could see the logo of the campgrounds they had intended to stay at on the bonnet of the car.
A door opened - the passenger side. The six of them stood, still as statues, as the passenger climbed out.
Clary was crying as soon as she saw the red hair.
"Mum?"
"Clary!"
Magnus shifted his weight so Clary could let go of him and run towards Jocelyn, both their arms outstretched. Clary couldn't care less about the pain that reverberated through her, the screeching ache of her arms - she couldn't care less about anything.
Jocelyn was crying, too. These past few days, she'd done a lot of it. But she was not crying now out of sorrow - she was crying out of joy.
Clary was alive.
They were all alive.
And when her daughter collapsed into her, her tiny frame heaving with joyful sobs, she offered a silent prayer to whoever was listening.
Thank God. Thank the Angels. Thank the Universe. Thank anything and everything.
When Luke stepped out of the car, he felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. His first instinct was to hug Clary, but upon seeing the others, how sore, bedraggled, dishevelled they seemed - he couldn't stand it.
"Isabelle," he whispered. And although they'd never been particularly close, she crumpled into his hug without any resistance. Together, they walked to the others, and only now did Luke realise that Alec was being held up by Jace and Simon. Letting Izzy go, he rushed to take the weight from the two boys, scooping Alec up and holding him in his arms.
"What happened?"
"He had a nasty fall," was all Simon could mumble before he flung himself upon Luke in a ravenous embrace. God, these poor children.
Jace nodded curtly at him, which Luke took to mean he didn't want a hug, so he turned his attention to Magnus. Magnus smiled wearily. Not knowing how to comfort him, Luke busied himself by carrying Alec back to the car.
It was only as he was opening the car door that he realised how remarkably light the shadowhunter was. Luke knew they wouldn't have been feasting like kings at all, but to lose that much weight? It was impossible, particularly as Alec hadn't changed all that much physically. How, then, was he so weightless?
Once he'd placed him carefully in the back seat, Luke looked up to find Magnus watching them. Magnus. Of course. Luke offered him a grateful nod, which Magnus returned with sincerity.
The mundane police officers had already begun questioning the others, but it was clear they were too tired to speak. They were ushered into the car that Jocelyn and Luke had arrived in, as well as others that had entered the scene loaded with paramedics and police. The last people to clamber into cars were Jocelyn and Clary, who were still hugging tightly.
"I missed you, mum," was all Clary could manage.
"I missed you too. So, so much."
