Hello readers!
I finally updated Eden! Yay!
The action is really going to start to heat up in this story, so you will not be bored in the next chapters coming up, I promise! Oh, it's so exciting!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments!
"I don't know about this, Jace," Alec muttered, his arms crossed anxiously over his chest. "Maybe this is just a really bad idea. How can you be sure she's not… bad?"
Jace glanced at his parabatai, wanting to convince him that it wasn't such a crazy idea – that Eve wasn't 'bad' – but he was feeling, for once, very lost for words.
Eve had been ushered into the Institute as quickly as possible when they had arrived, but Alec, Maryse, and Robert had been the only Lightwoods there. Isabelle had been mysteriously absent – although Alec had mentioned that his sister was rushing home as soon as possible – and before Jace could have gotten two words of introduction in with the rest of the Lightwoods, Inquisitor Silverspear had swept Eve into a private meeting with Maryse and Robert – and Jace had been left to explain Eve's whole situation to Alec without the help of the Inquisitor.
The story hadn't been a pleasant one for Alec to hear – Jace could tell.
At every mention of the Morgensterns, and Jonathan Morgenstern especially, the muscles of Alec's shoulders had noticeably tightened, and for good reason. It had been just over six months since Max had died, and all the emotional wounds were still raw. But even so, Alec had been patient with Jace, letting him finish Eve's story without interruption. It was a better reaction than Jace had expected from him – but all of the questions were going to come out now, Jace was sure – and from the looks of it, Alec had a lot of them.
"The Inquisitor and the Silent Brothers all say that she's done nothing that infringes on the Law or the Covenant, Alec. If she had, they would have taken her to Alicante right away for a full trial in front of the Council, if not to a cell in the Silent City," Jace replied.
"So what am I supposed to believe, then?" Alec demanded, his blue eyes shooting ice. "That she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time? That she just happened to be living with the Morgensterns when – when everything happened at Alicante?"
"They went through her memories, Alec." Jace tried to sound convincing and only half-succeeded. He was too tired. The night had drained him. "If it wasn't true, the Brothers and the Inquisitor would have seen it for themselves."
A frown flickered across Alec's mouth. "The Brothers could have been wrong. What if there was some sort of block on her memories – or maybe her mind was tampered with –"
"They would have sensed that too. And the only thing that could put a block that strong on her mind would have been a warlock. And I doubt that Valentine would have trusted a Downworlder with his son's precious fiancée."
Silence stretched out; and then Alec sighed.
"Could you explain that again?" Alec put in, rubbing his temples tiredly. "About why Valentine wanted her to marry Jonathan?"
Jace sighed. "Jonathan had Demon blood in him. Eve has Angel blood in her. Demon father plus Angel mother equals Nephilim super-warrior baby for Valentine without Jonathan's bad attitude."
"Right." The eldest Lightwood son looked drawn as he moved across the room and sat down in an armchair by the fireplace. His black hair fell over his forehead, hiding his sapphire-colored eyes from Jace's sight. There was a long, withering pause between the two parabatai, one that seemed to go on for hours. "Do you think –" Alec finally added, "never mind. It doesn't really matter, I guess."
Jace stretched his fingers. "Do I think what?" he asked.
"That Eve really loved him. Jonathan, I mean… Or do you think she was forced into it?"
Jace pondered on the question for a moment and shook his head thoughtfully. "I don't know. I can't really tell. But I don't think Valentine gave her much of a choice, either way. Valentine wanted her to have Jonathan's child. That was all she was good for to him, in the end. He wouldn't have allowed her to not love him."
"I guess not." Alec raised his dark head and peered at the old, grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "They've been in there for almost an hour," he said, gesturing to the room where the Inquisitor and his parents were. "Do you think everything is alright?"
Jace looked, but at that exact moment, the doors squealed open and the Lightwood parents appeared in the doorway. Both the tall and narrow Maryse and the broad, imposing Robert looked profoundly exhausted, but Inquisitor Silverspear appeared optimistic as he followed behind them with Eve. His pine-green eyes were glittering victoriously.
"It's been decided," Argyle announced, looking between Jace and Alec. "Eve will be remaining here at the Institute until her mother is located."
Despite it all, Jace was relieved: relieved in a way that was too profound and difficult to express. As long as Eve was around him, he knew she would be safe. He would keep her safe.
Eve aimed a little smile at him, which he returned, but Alec just scowled at her. "And how long will it be," Alec inquired icily, "until she leaves?"
Jace watched Eve's smile dissolve. She dropped her blue eyes to her toes.
"A week," Argyle replied, placing his hand affectionately on Eve's shoulder. "Perhaps a little longer. But there are other matters of Clave business that need to be attended to while Eve is here. I can assure you, Alexander, the time will pass very quickly."
"Other matters?" Jace inquired. Even though he understood Alec's suspicions of Eve, he still had to fight the urge to kick his best friend savagely in the ankle. "What kind of other matters?"
"Skill testing, for one thing," Argyle replied with a shrug of his narrow shoulders. "The Consul is curious as to what extent her abilities are, so he can bring proof of it to the Council… I tried to tell him that the Silent Brothers and I already know how well she can fight… We saw it in her memories… but unfortunately, the Consul is a higher authority than I am. He has required skill testing… The assessments will begin tomorrow."
It was hard for Jace to imagine that the Consul was more powerful than Argyle Silverspear. Although he mentally knew the fact, he could not place Felix's weaseling, powerless attitude above the confidence and natural leadership abilities of the Inquisitor. "I will be here tomorrow as a witness for the Council," Argyle added, and Eve relaxed ever so slightly. "So there ought to be no issues, in that regard… I will be seeing you first thing in the morning." The Inquisitor turned and strode halfway across the room until he turned around, realization lighting his pine-green eyes. "Oh, and one last order of business…" The Inquisitor held out his pale, slender hand to Eve, expectantly. "I'm going to need your bag, Eve. To perform an inspection of your belongings."
To Jace's, and everyone else's surprise, Eve grinned.
She shrugged off the bulky satchel and put the strap in Argyle's palm, giving it over easily. But as soon as Argyle got ahold of its full weight, he frowned thoughtfully. He raised and lowered his arm as if the bag weighed so much as air, even though it appeared to be filled to capacity and looked about as heavy as Eve herself. Even though Jace had seen Eve strain under the bag's weight…
In a single motion, the Inquisitor pulled at the drawstring, letting the top of the bag fall open as Jace and the Lightwoods looked on curiously. "It's empty…" Argyle began – and then he glanced at Eve and smirked as well. Understanding flickered across his face like a flame. "Ah… A very clever girl. It is enchanted, isn't it?"
Slowly, Eve's smile widened.
"Enchanted?" Maryse echoed. "What do you mean?"
As if to explain, Argyle flipped the bag upside down, and nothing spilled out of it. Not even a speck of dust. Alec squinted at it, suspiciously.
"To the unsuspecting onlooker," the Inquisitor explained, "it is an empty, unimpressive satchel. But once in the hands of the owner it is tied to…" He quickly tied the drawstring and held out his hand, the bag's strap dangling on his fingers. Eve reached out compliantly, seeming to understand his movements, and gripped the strap beside Argyle's hand. Immediately, the Inquisitor's muscles tensed and the bag dropped an inch lower to the floor, as if it had suddenly been filled with bricks. "Its contents are accessible. Very helpful when carrying important objects of high personal value, or when transporting items of a less than innocent nature: it ensures they will never be found or stolen… It's nothing the Silent Brothers have not dealt with before, of course… although enchantments like these are sometimes very difficult to take apart," he added, glancing at Eve. "I just certainly hope for your sake, Ms. Riversend, that the Clave will find nothing in here that they could consider questionable."
Eve's expression was as cool as stream water. "Well, they will know soon enough, won't they?" she replied timidly, withdrawing her hand. Argyle folded the seemingly empty canvas bag over his arm with a smile and turned to the door. But someone burst through it before he could take a single step.
"I got takeout!" a familiar voice called. Without much warning, Alec's sister Isabelle flounced through the doorway, wearing a black, knee-length trench-coat and a matching pair of high heels. She held up a pale, nondescript paper bag in one hand, which made for a startling contrast against her ink-colored clothes and hair. "I thought you'd all be hungry since Mom isn't here to cook, so I stopped by Taki's and –"
All of a sudden, she finally seemed to take in her surroundings. Everyone was staring at her: Maryse and Robert looked mildly embarrassed, Alec looked exhausted, and the Inquisitor just looked supremely amused.
"Sorry, did I miss something?" she asked, blinking at each of them in turn. "Alec just texted me to come home about an hour ago and I…"
"That's alright Isabelle," Maryse replied, crossing her slender arms. "I'm sure everyone would appreciate takeout."
"Take… out?" Eve repeated quietly, staring at Isabelle. She looked confused, as if the word was a foreign language to her – but there was something more to the way Eve looked at Isabelle – as if the Lightwood's only daughter was somehow familiar to her.
Maryse gave Eve a quick look, as if she had seen this moment before. Suddenly, the Lightwoods' mother glanced away from Eve with the tiniest of smiles, and Jace had to chuckle. He could imagine he had been much the same when he had come to the Institute: ten years old, questioning every little thing that differed from what he was used to.
The Inquisitor stepped aside, giving Isabelle a full view of their newest, blonde addition. "Miss Lightwood, meet Eve Riversend," Argyle told her. "Your parents have agreed to take her in under Clave protection, for a week or so, until we can arrange other living arrangements for her."
Isabelle stared at Eve, her expression unreadable.
"She may need to borrow some of your old clothes until tomorrow," Maryse began, tentatively. "Unless it bothers you, of course –"
"No – please," Eve cut in, her blue eyes wide. Even from the distance, Jace could see the flecks of gold dancing in her irises. "You are already being so generous, Mrs. Lightwood –"
"By the Angel," Isabelle finally breathed. Everyone glanced at her, unsure of how the sentence would end. But when Isabelle looked up again, her face was bright with enthusiasm. "It's about time we got another girl here!" Isabelle finished animatedly. "Are you sure she's not a Mundie? She barely has any Marks."
Argyle grinned. "No, Miss Lightwood… If anything, she is more Nephilim than the rest of us."
Isabelle, for whatever reason, ignored that comment; her dark eyes studied Eve industriously, her hands on her hips. "She looks just like a Barbie-doll. Where in the world did you find a girl like this?"
Eve blinked again. "Bar-bie doll?"
Jace looked at the floor, trying to hide the fact that he was grinning. Beside him, Alec was fuming.
"And who are you?" Isabelle inquired, glancing at Argyle. "I've never seen you before."
Silverspear's smile widened. "I am the Inquisitor, Miss Lightwood."
"Oh." If Isabelle was supposed to be taken aback by that response, she wasn't. She tilted her head to the side like a curious bird. "You're kind of cute, for an Inquisitor… I thought Clave officials were supposed to be older."
Maryse and Eve both gaped at her.
Argyle laughed.
"Isabelle!" her mother admonished her. "That is not –"
"Isabelle."
The new voice that broke into the conversation was low, bassy, and carried a sense of finality. Jace watched as Robert Lightwood stepped forward, his massive frame blocking the doorway behind him. At the sound of her name in his mouth, Isabelle immediately stopped.
Everyone went silent.
"Thank-you, Inquisitor Silverspear, for all you've done," Robert said, finishing the conversation, inclining his head to Argyle.
The Inquisitor nodded in reply. His green eyes were suddenly grave. "It is you I need to thank, Robert," he answered. "You are doing me a kind favor, by extending your hospitality like this."
The Lightwoods' father shrugged his massive shoulders. He was well-tempered even at the worst of times, Jace knew – but Robert was a man of few words. His voice was gruff as he murmured a short, "She's Emile's daughter," and fell back into remote silence.
There was a moment where everyone stood still, then Argyle gave one last lingering look at Eve and turned to the door. "I will be seeing you at sunrise, tomorrow, Eve," he told her over his shoulder. Light caught his hair and eyes again, turning them that dizzying rainbow of color – like the way a crow's feather caught color in the sunlight.
"And Eve?" he added, his expression somber. Their gazes locked for a long moment, and both pairs of eyes shared a secret, grim, and almost telepathic understanding. For a split second, Jace remembered the silver bird from before, flashing like the moon, clawing Eve's fragile arms with its talons. "Stay safe."
In the end, Isabelle dropped the takeout off in the kitchen, was about to eat, and then her parents yanked her unwillingly into the Library for an emergency debriefing on the 'situation'. This left Jace and Alec to fend for themselves for dinner – and it also left them both to watch over Eve. But Alec took his designated white box, moodily sulked off to his bedroom without a second glance back, and Jace and Eve were quickly left alone with each other.
"And then there were two," Jace murmured into the paper bag.
Eve watched Alec go with a miserable expression.
"He hates me," Eve stated. "And there is nothing I can do to make him hate me any less."
Jace glanced at her, wondering if she was thinking of Max; her words certainly seemed genuine.
"He doesn't hate you," Jace commented, pulling out his own box of takeout. The delicious, overwhelming aroma of pasta and garlic and tomato sauce came along with it, and his stomach groaned. "He's just suspicious of you. A not-so-surprising reaction considering your fiancée murdered his brother six months ago."
Wincing, Eve turned her face away from where Alec had gone. Jace watched as she crossed her pale arms over her chest and shivered.
He had only just begun to feel a tiny bit of pity for her as he grabbed a fork and started out of the gleaming, stainless-steel-riddled kitchen. "Come on," Jace muttered, beckoning her along. "It's late. And I have no idea how long Maryse and Robert will take with Isabelle."
With an obedient nod, Eve followed him through the Institute's long corridors.
It only took a minute or so until they came to Jace's bedroom, and he shoved the door open with his shoulder. Eve had quietly filed in the room behind him as he flicked on the light, looking vulnerable without her massive bag of precious belongings. Setting the takeout and the fork on his dresser, Jace opened a drawer and began searching for a t-shirt for Eve to wear. It wasn't the ideal sleepwear for her, he assumed; but it was the best he could do until she got her clothes back from Argyle in the morning.
"When was the last time you ate?" Jace asked her, finding a plain black shirt that seemed to fit his purposes. When he finally glanced upwards, though, he simultaneously heard a clatching noise, and saw that Eve was at his bedroom door and had closed it, her hand guarding the handle like a sentinel. A flower of apprehension blossomed in Jace's chest. Something dark and volatile was glinting in her blue eyes, something very unlike her innocent, angelic outward appearance. His fingers brushed against a cold, smooth object that was tucked into the corner of his drawer – a dagger, the Herondale dagger; Amatis had given it to him, along with the rest of his blood father's belongings, back in Alicante – and it offered Jace the smallest bit of reassurance. Expertly, Eve eyes flicked to his window, flashing gold. The window was shut, like his door, and the blinds were drawn across the glass. The sight seemed to please her, and she returned her gaze to him.
Jace shivered, inexplicably.
Without any warning, Eve did the unpredicted. Instead of hurling herself at him, attacking him, throwing him down – she simply walked over to his desk, put her left foot on the desk's chair and hiked her short dress high – all the way up her leg. Jace blinked and almost turned his face away, but what he had anticipated to be Eve's pale white skin was not that at all. Half the length of her thigh was a tight, impeccably fitted, black leather sheath. There was a vicious-looking knife strapped into the front of her leg, right beside a stele, and a mysterious pocket took up the space on the inside of her thigh. It was that pocket Eve reached for, flicking it open with her thumb.
"Wow." Jace made himself grin at her, trying to maintain composure. "Usually girls make me take them out for dinner first before they rip off their clothes in my bedroom."
Eve, fumbling in her pocket, ignored that comment. A moment later she pulled out something black and rectangular – if Jace hadn't been looking too closely, he might have thought it was a wallet – but he was looking closely, and it was a bit too long, and far too thick, to be a regular wallet. Taking her stele, Eve wrote a single Rune on the face of the wallet-looking object – Jace couldn't be entirely sure which Rune it was, from the distance between them – and then she scrawled a word overtop the design in elegant handwriting: it almost looked like Valentine's writing, Jace thought with a jolt of surprise, although that was far from possible – this was Eve in front of him, not Valentine. Then he saw the word and the Rune flare to a brilliant golden light, and he caught a glimpse of the signature, then: albeit only the last four letters: R-I-E-R.
A French name, perhaps? Although it made no sense that Eve would forge Valentine's writing to scratch out a French name… Either way, the object in her hand responded to the strange combination of script. There was the smallest of clicks, and then the wallet opened for Eve. She flipped through its contents quickly, critically, marking every tiny detail. It was then that Jace saw what was inside the wallet: the leather binding was full of clear, plastic pages, holding the most unexpected thing of all.
Credit cards.
Flashy gold and black credit cards.
There must have been over thirty of them.
Eve clapped the wallet shut then, and, with a skilled tap of her stele, returned it to her thigh sheath. Then she unceremoniously reached into the neckline of her dress and pulled something glittering and silver out of her bra.
Jace fought the urge to laugh – it was so unlike her – until he saw what she'd pulled out.
It was a long, platinum-colored chain – and swinging on the end of that chain like a clock's pendulum, was the Morgenstern family ring. It was easily identifiable, what with the engraved 'M' and the pattern of stars. That same ring was hung around Clary's neck, and Jace could feel it almost as vividly as if it was pressed against his own heart.
Eve sighed and tucked the necklace back down her dress, as if the mixture of it and the wallet was vital to her.
Jace squinted in Eve's direction. "Is there anything else on you that I should know about?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at her. "Because I have a feeling Argyle Silverspear knows nothing about those two things."
She barely glanced at him. "He does know – about the ring, at least."
"And that wallet-thing – that was one of the memories you kept from him, I suppose?"
"I had to," Eve replied. Her eyes burned with a strange sacrificial light. "I took that from someone – someone close to me. It is best if Argyle doesn't know who. There are some things it would hurt him too much to know."
"Is it Jada?" Jace inquired, recalling the name Eve had said before.
He watched her cheeks flush white with alarm, and knew he had been correct. "How did you –?"
"You said the name before… Just outside the Institute."
Her eyes widened in recollection. And panic.
"Don't tell Argyle," she pleaded. All of a sudden, her former confidence was gone. "I can't – If you even say the name –"
"Who is she?"
She looked like a doe, Jace thought. Maybe it was just her eyes. Eve looked ready to respond – and choked on the words. "I can't –"
"Tell me," Jace answered. "Or I will go to Argyle Silverspear and ask him myself."
Her jaw tightened. "You mustn't say a word to anyone. Not a soul."
"That shouldn't be a problem."
She stared behind him at the wall. Her gaze was distant, as if she was skimming through time. "Jada was my tutor, back when I lived with Valentine… She had been a good friend of Argyle's once, many years before she met Valentine. I can't imagine telling Argyle that she was as closely related with Valentine Morgenstern and the Circle as she was. It would destroy her if he knew."
Eve had a tutor?
The thought kind of fit in Jace's mind… A picture of an older, matronly lady with a harsh tongue and a strict personality to match formed in his mind. He could almost anticipate who the tutor would be – much like the old Inquisitor, his grandmother – Imogen Herondale; all old age and sharp angles. Yes, it certainly sounded like someone Valentine would employ to keep an eye on Eve. But what sort of relationship could she have possibly had with the Inquisitor? A mother-figure, maybe?
"Here," he said, offering her his t-shirt and the unopened takeout box. "You need to eat something."
She wrinkled her nose suspiciously at it. "What is it?"
"Food," he told her. "Delicious food, in fact."
Eve wasn't convinced. "I don't know if I trust eating something that comes out of a cardboard box."
"Oh, don't be such a snob," Jace replied, shoving the box and the shirt in her arms. "Some of the best things in life come out of cardboard boxes: like Twinkies and homeless people."
A wry smile curled her lips. It felt like that smile brought the brightness of the afternoon sun with it. "That is disgusting," she replied. "Homeless people aren't fit for human consumption."
"Don't worry. Neither should be Twinkies."
Her smile widened, and she took the items he gave her, gratefully. "Thank-you, Jace, for your kindness toward me," she murmured quietly. "You convinced the Lightwoods to let me stay here; you did not leave me in the Silent City… But Max… This Max-boy was your brother, too." She looked miserable. "You deserve to hate and distrust me as much as Alec does."
He thought about that for a moment, looking at his toes.
"I'm not the only trusting person, here… You know I didn't swear on the Angel," he finally commented, "when you told me about your tutor, Jada. You know my word technically means nothing without that oath, but you told me about her anyway."
Eve stared him squarely in the eye.
Her eyes were old eyes, he thought – even though they were placed in a youthful, unlined face. She looked like she had lived though many lifetimes and many, many more sorrows than any person had right to see.
"Well," she began, glancing away from him. "I hope that neither of us let all this trust go to waste."
What did you think?
This chapter is more of an emotional kind of vibe still, but everything is going to change with the skill testing and onward... Did those of you who read The Morgenstern Girl like the description of the tutor Jace gave? I almost fell off my chair laughing when I wrote that... Everyone is going to be in for a little shock...
P.S: Thank you for reading and reviewing; it makes me so happy!
Until next time!
Love, Fishie.