Hello Readers!
Here is Chapter 4! (It may have taken me a million years to write it, but...) I hope it was worth the wait! (Maybe? Hopefully?...)
Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS CHARACTERS!
The passages that led through the Silent City were just as Jace had remembered them. They were gloomy and dim – corridors made of dark stone, lit at intervals by eerie witchlight torches. Brother Dominic led at the front, with Eve following behind him, looking as fragile as a tiny bird, and the three Shadowhunters from the carriage had circled her, making a sort of human prison with their hulking bodies.
Jace had kept a careful eye on Eve throughout the procession, but he still couldn't determine how she was feeling: Her posture had remained perfect and relaxed while they walked. And she didn't appear tense or afraid at all.
Although she had every reason to be.
They had already past through the first level of the Silent City, where the mausoleums and the dead rested. And the second level was coming up quickly; the level that Jace knew held the archives and the council rooms. The level that Eve would be interrogated in.
Bluish light caught in Eve's golden hair as she passed a witchlight torch, turning her waist-length curls an ethereal shade of green. The thought of her being interrogated at all sent fury, like a rush of adrenaline, through Jace's blood. He thought of when Clary had been summoned by the Silent Brothers, and the way it had pained her when they had searched through her memories… It wasn't something he wanted to see again. Not with Eve. She wasn't stubborn or strong the way Clary was. And surely her memories were more painful than Clary's could have ever been. The interrogation would cut Eve deeply; that he knew. Far deeper than it ever had with Clary.
Eve, Brother Dominic began. Jace started, wondering if the Brother had been reading his mind, and then he registered his surroundings. Brother Dominic had led them to an elaborate doorway, to which Jace assumed was going to be Eve's interrogation room. His fists tightened at his sides.
You will address the Consul and Inquisitor by their proper titles, Dominic insisted. And you will not speak unless spoken to, do you understand?
Eve nodded, like she usually did when given a command, watching quietly as Brother Dominic opened the massive door. Inside, the council room was immense, with a gleaming, checkered black and white marble floor and pale stone walls. Dominic slipped inside, but instead of trailing after, Eve hesitated. She turned back to look into Jace's face, her gold-blue eyes strangely desperate. "Jace," she asked softly. "Will it be an unkind death?"
Jace stared at her, reeling at her question. "What?"
"When they kill me," she repeated. Her voice faltered. "Will it be an unkind death?"
He wondered for a moment if Eve was joking, but her face was set, her expression unremitting. Suddenly, Luke's own face flooded into Jace's memory, showing the way he had looked when he had said to take care of Eve. A protective flurry of rage coursed through Jace like lightning, and this time, he didn't try to force it away.
He pushed his way to her and gripped her shoulders tightly, as if to reassure her by force that he was there.
"No one," Jace growled. "– No one is going to kill you."
The Shadowhunters circling her glared, but Jace couldn't care less. He glared right back at them as venomously as he could, and to his surprise, Eve smiled. She reached out her hand and touched the side of his face tenderly, but in her eyes was an old sort of sorrow.
"You remind me so much of Jonathan," she told him, dropping her hand away.
Jace dropped his hands as well. "I don't know why you keep saying that," he said through his teeth. "I'm nothing like him. I saw Jonathan Morgenstern in Alicante; murdering innocent Shadowhunters in cold blood –"
"– The boy you saw in Alicante was not my Jonathan," Eve replied in a distant voice. She seemed to have noticed Jace pull away and appeared hurt by it. "It was a monster with his face."
Part of him wanted to scream at her. Did she really think Jonathan Morgenstern was a saint? Was she really that misguided?
Eve. Enter. Brother Dominic commanded.
She turned away slowly and glided into the room.
Jace trailed behind. The Shadowhunters circling her forced him away; knitting themselves closer together, into an impenetrable wall of black fighting gear and glinting weapons. He couldn't even see a glimpse of Eve by the time they entered the council room. What he did see, however, was even more interesting.
Brother Dominic stood next to a desk-like table in the centre of the room; where two men in black robes sat side-by-side. The one closest to Dominic was short, about forty years old, with thinning mousy hair and dull grey eyes. Beside him sat another man; one about the same age, who was tall and regal-looking, with tousled black hair and steady, pine-green eyes. Jace hoped this dark-haired one was Inquisitor; partially because he looked like someone who would be compassionate towards Eve, and partly because the other guy beside him looked like a weasel.
Jace shoved his way to Eve, ignoring the answering growls from the men surrounding her: He knew he had to be at her side, no matter what her verdict was.
He reached her – and instantly knew that he had done the right thing.
She caught his gaze momentarily, and Jace saw that all her courage had slipped away, leaving nothing but a gaping, hopeless void. Barely controlled fear and gratitude crossed her beautiful features as she studied his face.
Thank you, her eyes said.
"Is this Eve?" a nasally voice demanded.
The question came from the short man at the table. He had finally caught sight of Eve, obviously, and the way his beady eyes ran down the skin of her legs made Jace want to strangle him.
Yes, Consul, Brother Dominic replied. This is Eve.
Jace almost smiled, despite himself.
If that rat was the Consul, then that meant the dark-haired one was Inquisitor Silverspear. But Jace supposed Eve wasn't entirely out of the woods yet.
Silverspear was a bit of an enigmatic figure, even to those high up in the Clave like Maryse and Robert. He had been Inquisitor Aldertree's replacement; that Jace knew. He also knew that Silverspear had been studying to join the Silent Brothers before his promotion to Inquisitor. And rumor claimed him to be impartial and fair – but Jace had his doubts.
Silverspear saw Eve – and his eyes widened impossibly. "Eve," he murmured. His voice was soft and contemplative – like a prayer.
Quietly, the Inquisitor studied Eve; from the top of her damp gold hair to the scuffed toes of her simple boots, but his gaze was very unlike the Consul's. He stared at Eve like she was a daughter or a sister or a beloved friend that had finally returned to him – not like she was a piece of meat he couldn't wait to chew on.
"Felix," Inquisitor Silverspear said, tearing his eyes from Eve. It sounded, strangely, like he was pleading. "She looks just like him, Felix… Felix, she looks like Emile."
Emile, Jace realized. That was the name of Eve's father. How did the Inquisitor know him?
The Consul nodded his agreement. "It is as we had thought, Argyle. She is undeniably Emile's daughter. She is a mirror image of him… But you can't let this interfere with your judgment. The Council would be displeased if they found out."
"But Felix –" The Inquisitor turned back hopelessly to Eve. He had compelling, high-boned features, Jace thought, and although he could not have been younger than thirty-five, he had a youthfulness that transcended his outward appearance. "Felix, I –"
"If you want," the Consul suggested, glancing hungrily at Eve. "I could conduct the interrogation in your stead. That is, if you don't feel comfortable."
There was a pause.
"No," the Inquisitor replied firmly. Jace wondered if he had been able to see through the Consul's look as well. "No, I must do this; or no one will do it at all."
In a shadowy swirl of robes, the Inquisitor stood. He regarded Eve with a mixture of compassion and stiff formality. "Please, step forward," he told her. "And state your name for the Council."
Jace saw belatedly what looked like a jury of Silent Brothers lined beside one of the cold marble walls, and he thought he saw Eve tremble.
Cautiously, she stepped forward, away from the safety of Jace. "My name is Eve Acadia Morgenstern," she told the Inquisitor rigidly.
The Silent Brothers murmured ominously at that: She had no Morgenstern blood. She had no right to that family name.
Or so they thought.
Silverspear seemed to shudder at the mention of 'Morgenstern', but he inclined his head to her politely, nonetheless. "Eve," he said. " My name is Argyle Silverspear, and this," he added, gesturing to his left. "– is the Consul, Felix."
Felix took the opportunity to flash an obsequious smile at Eve, looking as grimy as a toad as he did.
Jace growled.
Argyle weightlessly strode towards Eve – and he motioned with a finger for her to do the same – so that they met in the middle, only a few paces apart. They both observed each other with silent intensity. But Eve had none of the Inquisitor's peculiar sorrow, only his vulnerable curiosity.
"Forgive me," said the Inquisitor softly. "But I'm afraid that the Silent Brothers are going to have to analyze your memory, Eve… I asked that they only try you by the Sword, but after what Valentine has done…" They thought it unwise, his silence said. The Inquisitor shook his head slightly before continuing. "I would like your permission, Eve, to examine you as well. I want to help you as best I can, despite what you may think."
Something flashed in Eve's gold-flecked eyes – a question.
The Inquisitor seemed to understand. "I may not fully be one of the Brothers, but I have learned their talents and their ways: I was training to join the Brotherhood before I was asked to become Inquisitor," he continued. "That is why I will be able to see your memories along with the rest of the Brothers, if you'll let me."
Eve shuddered. "I don't have much of a choice in the matter, do I?" she asked tightly.
The Inquisitor sighed. "No," he answered ruefully. "I suppose not."
Eve dropped her gaze and stood very still for a long time. The only movement from her was the rise and fall of her chest; her hair shining like actual twists of metal to where it fell to her waist.
After a deep breath, the Inquisitor stepped forward, until he was close enough to place his hands on her shoulders – and he did just that – with a tentative sort of affection that Jace was sure everyone noticed.
"What do I do?" Eve whispered.
Silverspear paused and leaned his head closer to hers. "Tell me the earliest memory that you can remember."
Closing her blue eyes, she began. "My first memory is the first time I met Valentine," Eve said. "I was six years old –"
And then her voice cut off with a sharp gasp.
The Inquisitor's fingers tightened suddenly on her shoulders, reflexively, as the strangest sound flowed through the room. Jace thought at first that it may have been the soft rush of running water, but a few more seconds of listening told him it wasn't water at all: It was the Silent Brothers, ominously muttering in their inaudible voices, and Jace knew that they were in her head – examining her memory. Eve seemed to snap apart in that moment – her knees buckled, and she leaned into the Inquisitor for support. Her strength appeared to be gone and she looked impossibly small, next to the looming height of Argyle Silverspear.
As quickly as it had begun, though, it ended. The murmuring stopped. Eve's jewel eyes flew open, at the exact moment as Silverspear's did, and they both stumbled away from each other with matching expressions of shock. However, unlike the Inquisitor, Eve didn't seem to recover her balance as swiftly.
Jace shot forward, just as Eve fell bonelessly to the hard stone floor. He reached her just as her knees hit the ground, moving faster than any other Nephilim could, and caught her lightly in his arms. And she didn't fight him, or try to force him away from where she sat; instead she clung to him like a child, so tightly than if he had been a normal mundane, he would have cried out in pain.
But he wasn't a normal mundane: He was a Shadowhunter.
Eve buried her face in the crook of his neck, her breathing ragged – and Jace drew slowly away to glance down at her, terrified that she was sobbing – But she wasn't crying. There were no tears in her eyes when he saw her, but there was an unguarded horror in them that was somehow worse. Jace remembered Agramon, the Demon of Fear, the way it had known the terrors that lay buried inside each person, and the way it had exploited them. Eve looked the way he had felt with Agramon – like a butterfly pinned to a board – and it made him wish he had seen her memories too. If he knew her inner demons, he could rip them into pieces for her, but there was no way he could comfort her then.
Jace glanced in the direction of the Inquisitor.
Argyle himself was shaken, his chest hitching up and down, his eyes too bright, his skin a shade too pale. He stared at Eve as if she was likely to shatter apart at any moment, and when she didn't, he whispered under his breath, the same words over again, though Jace couldn't make them out. Then Silverspear turned away from them, passing a hand over his face, as if seeing Eve pained him to the core. Past him, the Consul was leaning forward expectantly in his seat, but obviously confused.
The Inquisitor may have been able to her read memories, but Consul Felix apparently could not.
It made Jace a bit relieved, despite everything.
But the feeling was short-lived.
The jury of Silent Brothers at the side seemed to come alive, with a chorus of dreadful sighs that made Jace hold Eve more tightly. They were all staring toward her, with pairs of black pits that once were eyes, and studied her curiously.
Hmm, the Brothers mused together. How very interesting. How very, very interesting…
"What?" Jace snapped. His throat was dry, making his voice raspy and weaker than he had wanted. "What is interesting?"
To his surprise, it was the Inquisitor that replied. "She is innocent," he said shakily, his back to them still. "Eve is innocent before the Law and the Council. She does not need to be punished."
Jace reeled at that. Hell, even the Consul reeled at that.
The Silent Brothers nodded their agreement simultaneously. Yes, she is innocent, they said – if someone who did not make noise could speak. It is so strange. Very strange indeed. We cannot find reason to convict her: She most certainly lived with the Morgensterns, but she has not raised her hand against Downworlder, nor Nephilim, nor mundane…Nor has she been officially authorized into the Circle, because she is still a child... And there is no evidence to suggest that she conformed to any of the ideals of the Circle either…
Jace stared down at Eve, catching her gaze. "But you said – you told Luke that you were a member of the Circle… You said that –…"
But you were lying, weren't you? Jace thought bitterly. Why would Eve lie about something like that? Did she want to die?
"Then what do we do with her now?" the Consul asked in his repulsive voice.
Inquisitor Silverspear suddenly turned to the jury of Silent Brothers, his eyes begging. "Let her come live with me, Brothers. Let me correct Emile's mistake of giving her away, for his sake. By the Angel, you all know that he regretted it himself. The girl needs a father – a real father – who will protect her."
Eve whispered something, Jace thought, but her face was buried in his neck, and her words became muffled beyond comprehension. Jace lowered his ear to her mouth, listening for the words.
"Don't let them," Eve was whispering. "I don't need a father."
His arms tightened around her.
The jury milled – unaware of her comment – muttering this and that to each other, but no one seemed to come up with a final decision.
You should not take her in, Argyle, Brother Dominic finally replied. We know you were Emile's closest friend, but not many others do. Think of the rumors, Inquisitor: A beautiful young girl with connections to Valentine, walking away from the Council unpunished, only to share a house with the Inquisitor… You can imagine what they will think of you… It would be foolish.
"Then I could take her in," the Consul piped up eagerly. Perhaps a bit too eagerly. He looked at Eve like she was a Christmas present of his that had just arrived early. "She would be safe, and I have enough space for her in my house…And if my reputation is scarred, so be it, if that is what the Inquisitor desires."
Jace snarled at Felix, low, in the back of his throat. "Don't," he growled. "Don't pretend you aren't doing this for yourself."
The Consul glared at him like an aggravated boar.
Slowly, the Inquisitor turned to Jace again. He didn't look like wanted Eve to go with Felix either, but he looked hopeless, as if there was no other option available. "Do you have another solution, Mr. Herondale? Unless you want her to stay here in a cell with the Brothers, that is."
"She could stay at the Institute in New York," Jace blurted, before he could stop himself.
In reality, it was a horrible idea for her to stay at the Institute. Eve was Jonathan Morgenstern's fiancée – at one point anyway – and Jonathan had killed Max. He had killed Max. How could Jace explain Eve to the Lightwoods, without them throwing her out onto the streets? Maybe the Inquisitor could help, make them see reason…
After a little more murmurs here and there, the Brothers seemed to agree.
It is decided, then, Dominic stated. Eve is to live at the Institute, until other arrangements are made.
"What other arrangements?" Jace demanded.
"Since her father is dead," Argyle said tightly. "Her mother, Minerva, is technically her legal guardian; But Minerva is… a difficult woman to find. It may take a few weeks before we can locate her and call her back to Idris."
"So Eve is staying at the Institute?" asked Jace.
"As long as the Lightwoods – who are the keepers of the Institute – consent," Felix hissed. He seemed unforgiving of Jace's rebellious behavior before, and he was going to make his life hell because of it. "Which I doubt they will. It was Valentine's son that killed Maxwell Lightwood, if you recall. The Lightwoods will hardly be kind to a girl who was in Valentine's service at the time their boy died."
Eve made a startled noise. Jace glanced down at her face quickly, as her slim fingers gripped the front of his t-shirt forcefully. "That Lightwood boy – Max," she choked. "Jonathan killed him?–" Then her voice broke off.
Jace thought of Ithuriel, the angel that Valentine had imprisoned within the Wayland manor-house. Eve had the same expression of pain. Her lovely gold-flecked eyes seemed to shatter at the news.
Was it possible that she had not known about Max's death?
"We can try, Felix," Silverspear countered. "And as for being in Valentine's service, they cannot complain. They were in the Circle once: and every Downworlder they murdered in the past was someone's child, someone's parent, someone's brother… I am not trying to justify what Jonathan Morgenstern did, but they can not blame Eve. She did not murder Maxwell, nor did she side with it."
The Consul refused to give up. "But –"
"My word is final, Felix," Argyle pronounced, setting his jaw. "Do not try to challenge me. You will lose."
That shut him up.
Within moments, he paled and shrunk back into his chair, utterly silent. Finally, Felix said a short, 'whatever you think is best' to the Inquisitor, and crossed his arms moodily over his torso. Like a two-year-old that was just denied candy.
Eve's hands flattened against his chest. Jace could feel them, softly nudging him away. He glanced at her in confusion and met her solemn eyes. "Please, Jace. Let me stand," she insisted quietly.
And he did; but only after a long moment of hesitation.
Jace rose to his feet first and gave her a hand up: Eve was still shaky, but she set her jaw and held herself well, so he assumed she could stand fine by herself. He still stuck close to her though; just in case he had been somehow, impossibly, wrong, and she needed another daring rescue.
The Inquisitor watched them curiously, his head cocked to the side. "Eve," he asked. "Going to the Institute – is this what you want?"
She glanced at back at Jace, studying his face intently. Then she turned again to the Inquisitor. "Yes. This is what I want."
Argyle nodded shortly, which rustled his tumbled raven hair. "Then we had best be going. Robert and Maryse will want an explanation for this, and I have a feeling this story may take awhile."
Jace let out his breath and cracked a grin, almost weak with relief.
He had been so afraid that Eve wouldn't come out of this interrogation-trail alive; and to think that she had… It was phenomenal. The word phenomenal couldn't even come close to describing it.
Eve's curls became a flurry of gold as she spun around to face him: Her sapphire eyes danced like a child's, and her smile was like that of an angel.
Beautiful, he thought.
She was beautiful.
Ah, ha! How horrible of me to leave you with such angst, hmm? What a villan I am! Muahaha! (Valentine: ...)
P.S: Review... IF YOU CARE. (*fake-cries in a corner*)
Next chapter we'll get to see the Lightwoods, hmm? How interesting...
I'll see you all then.
Love, Fishie