Disclaimer: I don't own SPN, TMI, or The Tithe trilogy by Holly Black.
Warnings: Snarky demons, teenagers, and grumpy women.
AN: Some of Holly Black's character will make cameo's in certain places, given that TMI and Tithe series takes place in the same universe.
Word count: 11,860
Chapter 2: All of the above.
As cliché' as it was, it was the next day and the inhabitants of the Institute woke up and began their day. Light filtered in through the windows, so no nook, cranny, or crack escaped illumination and made it impossible for anyone to stay asleep. When Sam woke up, Dean was already gathering their things and Cas was sitting quietly, watching them.
"Get ready." Dean instructed. "We'll be outta here in 5."
Cas hesitated. "You go. I wish to stay."
Both turned to him. Dean looked at Cas with a strange expression.
"Scuse me?"
"I wish to remain here. Something is…enamoring me to stay…"
Sam frowned. "Like a spell?"
"No." Cas paused, long enough that Sam thought he wasn't going to elaborate. "A sort of…memory of power. An echo you could call it."
"Thanks for clarifying." Dean replied dryly.
"Um, well. Let us know when the, er, echo is done. Or really, if you need anything."
"Thank you." Cas might have smiled.
Dean scowled and stalked out of the room.
SPNTMI
Meanwhile,
Jace stood in the old study that used to be Hodge's, and faced Maryse; the large mahogany desk was in between them. He felt defenseless from her scrutiny. Maryse was never looked at him with such cool eyes; he was her favorite. This was the first time that he found that he did not want to be in her company. His dread increased, he lowered his gaze, letting it rest on the table's 'legs'. The 'legs' were actually angels carved from the wood, their expressions filled with anguish as they struggled to hold up the heavy wood of the desk. Jace could sympathize with them; he wished he could be as expressive as them. Maybe if he was, Maryse would look at him normally again.
"Jace."
"Maryse."
"I raised you for 7 years, you came into our lives and I thought I knew everything about you-"
"You do." Jace quickly interrupted. "I'm still the same person."
Maryse's lips thinned and Jace could feel the sudden stomach plummeting, ice water drenching terror; something wild was flying inside of his chest, frantically trying to escape. Hope was still fighting to survive. Jace inhaled sharply to control himself.
"You really didn't know Valentine was your father?" Maryse's expression was oddly hungry. "All those years you spent with him and you never knew?"
Jace was shocked to realize that that Maryse was looking to him for reassurance; Mayrse, who never showed pain or uncertainty. Maryse, who was an adult.
'Who should know these things.' Jace thought angrily.
"How?! He never said '"Oh by the way son, did I ever tell you that I was an evil overlord?"', Jace stopped when he saw he saw Maryse's expression. "I had no idea."
She looked grim, as if she had already come to a decision and hardened herself to it.
"I can't take that chance."
Jace stared, incredulous. She was resolved; he knew she wouldn't change her mind. Jace struggled to clamp down on the hurt-he couldn't deny that, even to himself that broke like a geyser inside of him. Disappointment became just as strong inside him. Still, he wanted to give one final try.
"You've known me for 7 years…" he tried not to plead.
"I've called the Inquisitor." she ignored Jace. "The Clave needs to know what has happened-"
"I can take it from here."
It took all of Jace's self-control not to make a move. He had been so preoccupied with Maryse, he didn't even notice that another person had been in the room! Was he or wasn't a Shadowhunter?!
"Who are you?" demanded Jace.
The woman blinked. She had pale, nearly colorless eyes that were framed inside a tight, angular face. Her lips were a firm line. Her hair was pulled up in a severe bun and there wasn't a single strand out of place. Her clothes were stiff, with a high collar and the color of ash. Jace had the impression that he was looking at a really tall bird of prey, just waiting to tear him out of the institute.
"I am the Inquisitor." her voice as cold and colorless as her eyes. "I will be referred to as such."
The Inquisitor scrutinized Jace as though he was a dissected frog. His insides rippled with nervousness when her gaze drilled into him. He suppressed a shudder.
"I've been waiting for this, Jonathan Morgenstern."
"Jace." he corrected. "And I think you should stick to someone your own age." he added.
Maryse stifled a gasp. The Inquisitor's eyes, if possible, became even flintier.
"Watch how you speak to me boy."
Maryse glared sharply at Jace, and he felt a surge of anger at her. It was her fault; she brought the Inquisitor' in this when she decided not to trust him-
"I guess I can't help it. Sarcasm is just a part of who I am."
SPNTMI
The two brothers made their way downstairs. Through dimply lit corridors with old lamps stuck onto the wall's corners. Sam guessed the building was pretty old, and he resolved to figure out what he could about the building. The ceiling was domed and the wooden beams were dark and arched. Every time they turned a corner, a carving was perched somewhere on the beams, each one looking downwards as if watching the people walking below. Instead of gargoyles, they were angels. Some carried swords, or stood tall. All manner of angels, all looking beatific and awe-striking. It was somehow managed to complement the Victorian-esque flowered wallpaper.
"It's like a movie set." Dean whistled softly. "Now how do we get out?"
Sam shrugged, the winding passages and numerous rooms seemed to be designed to be imposing and confusing for those who didn't live there. A corridor and a turn later and they wound up in the kitchen.
"Finally." Dean smiled when he noticed where they were.
Sam smiled back; this was more familiar and there were people inside of it. Two boys, one was taller with jet black hair, and the other was smaller with glasses. It was the boy named…
"Alec right?" Dean asked.
He nodded. "Hello."
"We've gotten turned around, so if you don't mind showing us the way out, we'll get outta your hair." Dean said.
"Of course." Alec turned the younger boy, "Max, go back to your room for a bit."
The boy named Max made a face. "But…"
Alec gave the boy a look. The boy, Max, made another face before leaving the kitchen, giving both Sam and Dean curious glances. Sam felt an odd twinge of guilt and familiarity; was Alec trying to protect the boy from them, the outsiders? Sam turned to Alec, who was regarding them silently.
"Thanks for letting us stay here, especially since it was so…inconvenient for you."
Alec looked somewhat sheepish; he knew what Sam really meant.
"It's no problem. This way."
SPNTMI
Clary wandered down from her spare room; she was unable stay asleep any longer. She usually didn't stay at the Institute for such lengthy amounts of time, so maybe she was just jumpy from sleeping in a place she normally didn't occupy. She hadn't stayed overnight unless something bad had happened…
She decided she'd have breakfast if Isabelle wasn't going to cook it. Speaking of, Clary could see the striking figure of Isabelle standing only a few feet away. Isabelle raised her hand in greeting.
"Morning." Clary said when she got close enough.
Together the two walked down the brightly lit hall. Clary could tell they were moving past the kitchen, as Isabelle only craned her neck briefly before moving on. Clary raised her eyebrows.
"Um…no breakfast?"
"You can, if you want." Isabelle sounded disinterested.
"Well what are you gonna do?"
Clary assumed that Isabelle was going to do some type of Shadowhunter training thing.
"I wanted to see those guys off." Isabelle smiled, slow and mischievous.
Clary felt at ease enough to tease. "Of course. Why should I be surprised?"
"Hey! Didn't you think they were cute?"
"Well…"
Clary didn't have to think too hard on that one. It was true; they were…nice looking, almost rivaling Jace. Both had green eyes, only shades apart from each other, and they both had something serious about them. Almost like Shadowhunter eyes. The kind that had seen many difficult things and Clary was curious as to what those difficult things might be. It was hard to describe, but she was reminded of Jace.
She nodded to Isabelle, who had already looked decisive about Clary's assessment of the two men.
"How old do you think they are?" Clary asked.
Isabelle shrugged. "Does it matter?"
Clary laughed. Typical Isabelle. They had already reached the hallway to Hodge's old study, the heavy doors were closed. Sudden raised voices made them stop. Voices raised in anger could be heard from behind the heavy doors, which meant that the discussion was getting heated. Isabelle's eyes widened.
"That's mom and Jace."
Isabelle pressed herself against the door, black hair obscuring one side of her face. Clary stared for a moment before hissing:
"What are you doing?"
"Shhh."
Isabelle made a gesture with her hand. Clary looked around the hall, paranoid that someone would appear in seconds. She quickly went to Isabelle's side, pressing her ear tightly to the door. The wood was thick, the voices managing to sound soft even though they must be loud and tense from the other side. She could recognize Jace's voice; he sounded…pleading?
Clary shivered; what could be happening to make him sound so…vulnerable, or was it different? She couldn't tell what he was feeling and that bothered her more that she'd like to say. Then there was Maryse, whose voice sounded pinched, as though she was squeezing a live wire to some kind of terrible bomb. She didn't sound as though she was in much of a command of anything, which seemed out of character from what Clary had heard of her. The third voice was unrecognizable, but nevertheless sent shivers down Clary's spine.
"What are you doing?"
Clary jumped. She turned around. It was Alec, along with Sam and Dean. The three looked on at the two girls with varying degrees of amusement. Clary felt an all-consuming heat suddenly occupying her face. Mortified, she was unable to speak. Isabelle however, was unabashed. She made a shushing motion in annoyance.
"Hush. It's getting good."
Isabelle winked before turning her attention back to the door. The voices were starting to get louder; there wasn't a need to press an ear against the door anymore. The third voice had said something, and Jace responded. Clary could tell by his tone, that it was something snarky and possibly caustic. It was a familiar tone, and from the way the stranger responded, is was someone who wasn't tolerating it. They yelled, and Jace cut her off and Clay could actually here what he said:
"-I'll prove it. I'll take the Trial of the Sword."
Clary whirled to face Isabelle. The other girl had a strange expression on her face, and she had paled considerably.
"What is that?! What does he mean?! Isabelle!"
Clary grabbed Isabelle's shoulders roughly and had to repress the urge to shake her. Isabelle wouldn't look directly at her, but at something she couldn't see. Clary knew that Isabelle was just as worried as she was. Alec looked stunned. Sam and Dean looked confused, seemingly unaware of what exactly was going on, except that it was serious.
The third voice was speaking again, angry and haughty, and something…happy. A voice that Clary didn't want anywhere near Jace. A sudden surge of protectiveness and indignation rose up in Clary like a heat wave. Ignoring everything else but the sound of her own heart hammering in her chest, Clary pushed the doors wide open with a bang.
The sound made everyone jump. Maryse looking shocked and angered, and Jace's face was completely drained of color, looking at Clary as though he had just fallen down a flight of stairs. He made a sort of strangled cry, when he probably wanted to say something. The stranger on the other hand, barely spared her a glance or at any of the others. She had been in the middle of speaking, and wasn't going to stop for anything.
"Just as arrogant as your father-"
She continued, stating Maryse's incompetence and possible disloyalty, including all of the Lightwoods in that category. Then she moved on to talk about the Law and their blatant disregard for it, the mercy of the Clave, and finally ending with Valentine's list of crimes.
"If you want to prove your worth, then a night in the Silent City would do you some good." her smile was terrible.
Maryse blanched. "Imogen-"
"Inquisitor!" she barked.
Jace was suddenly silent. At this, The Inquisitor's eyes gleamed with a dreadful triumph. Clary looked wildly at the faces in the room, trying gauge the situation. Isabelle was staring at her mother in something akin to horror. Alec however, was staring at Jace and the Inquisitor with a mixture of irritation and resignation.
"You see." the Inquisitor crowed, gesturing at Jace as if he were some kind of exotic animal. "Even someone like him will learn the lessons needed to be taught. The Silent City is doing its job already. Come here, Jonathan."
Jace walked forward slowly, almost like slow motion. The Inquisitor pulled out her stele.
"Jonathan Morgenstern. Until further notice you are suspended from duty and will stay in the Silent City until morning."
"Lucky me." Jace croaked.
"MOM." Isabelle spoke up. "Do something!"
Maryse just nodded her head at the Inquisitor, and the other woman made her way to the door.
"Mom-"
Maryse's face was taunt. "Isabelle be quiet."
"How can you do this?!" Clary suddenly shouted. "This is-"
"Clary." Jace's voice was pleading and angered simultaneously.
"You didn't do anything wrong! Just because Valentine is your father-"
"Which is exactly why The Clave wants to speak to him." The Inquisitor interrupted, her gaze frosting over Clary. "Unlike you, he was not lucky enough to escape his father's influence. Don't think that means you will be exempt. Wickedness runs in your family. I will be watching you." She turned back to Maryse. "I will be watching you as well; you have been in good standing so far, but I will not be deceived easily. This will not be tolerated anymore." She surprisingly turned to regard Sam and Dean. "Actions like letting these…people inside." She made clear how she thought of these people. "Who are?"
"Nobody." Dean spoke up quickly. "These people are leaving."
Sam nodded once to Maryse and the rest of the Lightwoods, and Dean gave a sympathetic look in Jace's direction before the two quickly strode down the hall. Clary shivered at the Inquisitor's callous glare, but it wasn't enough to stop her. She was ready to shout at this harpy woman.
"Clary." Jace directed. "It's ok, just leave it."
"No its not!"
"Be quiet you silly girl!" The Inquisitor shouted.
With a final dismissive glance, the Inquisitor gripped Jace's arm in a vice-like grip and bodily led him out of the room. Alec had tried to catch Jace's eye, but he didn't bother to turn around and look back at any of them. Clary took in the faces of Jace's family, each one a different kind of defeated. It just made her angrier.
"How could you?"
Anger actually made it difficult to speak, and their pale unresponsiveness just made her even more enraged. Isabelle's eyes looked oddly bright, but Clary didn't care enough to know why.
"You're his family! Why would you let that-that women take him away!" she shouted.
"He…shouldn't have mouthed off to The Inquisitor. That's why she-" Alec's voice was wooden, almost like he was reciting a piece of information.
"Mouthed off?" Clary was incredulous. "Who wouldn't mouth off to that-" no words seemed proper to describe the horrible woman, or were good enough for Clary.
"He is a solider, and she is high in the Clave's chain of command. It was a bad idea, and he should have known better-" Alec cut himself off.
"We know how you feel." Isabelle cut in. "It's that-"
"Enough." Maryse interrupted. "Clarissa its time you went home."
Clary looked at both Alec and Isabelle, unable to speak. She just couldn't understand; it must have been written on her face, but that wasn't enough for any of them. She drew in a shaky breath, and she really hoped that she wouldn't cry in front of them.
"Fine."
She cast one last look at the study, and her eyes found the desk with the angels carved on the bottom. Their faces contorted horribly, and Clary knew she didn't want to be in the room any longer. She raised her eyes back to Isabelle and Alec.
"Screw you." she put as much venom in her voice as possible.
She raced out of the Institute's doors as fast as she could.
SPNTMI
Dean slammed down the trunk of the Impala. He could see a bit of the imposing cathedral, but only if he squinted hard enough or looked out of the corner of his eye. It honestly gave him the creeps.
"Think we dodged a bullet."
Sam nodded. "They called her the Inquisitor; I think that sums it up nicely."
They climbed in and Dean started the ignition. As soon as they pulled out of the space, a shape hurtled past and Dean slammed on the brakes.
"Whoa!"
Sam unclenched his hands from their death grip on his seat and stared. The person who had darted out in front of them hadn't moved, and stood staring back.
"Red?" Dean called.
"Clary." Sam reminded.
"Right." Dean stuck his head out the window. "Need a ride?"
Clary seemed a little dazed. "Yeah sure, great thanks."
SPNTMI
Surprisingly, there were no jobs that they could see. Clary didn't seem inclined to go anywhere either.
"So…I take it was bad after we left?" Dean asked.
"Yeah."
Clary didn't seem like she was going to say anything more, but she surprised them by suddenly talking. She relayed the whole argument, and then explained that Jace was adopted by the Lightwoods. She had poured all her frustration into her story.
"And you're also his sister?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. I just found out recently. I thought I was just a normal only child, but now…" she paused, "I never realized how strange that is."
"I actually know what you mean." Dean replied.
"You do?" Clary looked hopeful.
"We had a half-brother named Adam." Sam supplied. "We didn't know about him until recently."
"Oh. Had?"
After a exchanging a look, Dean replied. "He died."
"Oh." Clary was shocked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"
Dean waved it off. "You didn't know."
"How was it that you were raised apart?" Sam asked, changing track.
Clary paused. "My…our parents split up, because mom didn't want to be around…Valentine."
She gave a hasty explanation on who Valentine was and what he did. There was a stunned silence when she was finished speaking, but Clary felt glad that she was shedding this story, that there was someone to tell it to who had no stake in the whole thing. She even felt lighter, ready to float up and away from that nightmare.
Dean whistled. "Still wanna hang around Shadowhunters?"
"Your job seems pretty dangerous too." she countered.
Dean made a shrugging motion, as if to say, "To each their own."
"So there really are no jobs?" Clary began cautiously.
"Yeah. Why?" Sam turned in the back seat, catching Clary's hesitant smile.
"Well…I could show you the city." Clary offered.
"Why not." Dean smiled.
Not bad for a day off.
SPNTMI
True to her word, Clary showed them around the city. She didn't take them on the tourist routes, but the more fun places. She showed them Pandemonium, explaining that it was a favorite haunt for Downworlders.
"Clubbing for monsters. Go figure." Dean muttered.
"New York really does have everything." Sam was half teasing, half amazed.
"You don't know the half of it." Clary laughed.
A few blocks later, Sam's phone rang. He quickly answered it.
"Hello?"
"Sam." An excited breathy voice replied. A voice he recognized.
Sam tried not to groan; Dean gave him a questioning glance.
"Becky. Hi."
Dean snorted with laughter, not stopping even when Sam shot him his darkest bitch face.
"You remembered!" she managed to be breathy and still squeal.
"Er…yes I did." Sam glanced back at Dean. "How did you get this number?"
"It was in Chuck's phonebook."
"…Oh, um well-" Sam floundered. "What did you need?" he cringed.
Apparently, this was all she needed. She giggled. "Naughty! Well, remember at the convention, when we were talking? I didn't get a chance to tell you the rest of it-did you ever read the last book?" she didn't wait for him to reply. "Well at the end when Bela gave the colt back, she didn't give it to Lilith-"
At this, Sam did cut her off. "Wait what?" Dean glanced up at the sharp tone.
"She gave it to another demon named Crowley. I think it was because they were close or something-"
"Wait hang on-"
Sam put the phone on speaker. "Ok go on."
"So she gave the colt to Crowley, and there's even an address!"
Sam quickly scribbled it down on an old napkin as Becky hurriedly recited it. "Thanks Becky."
Sam barely registered her chirrup of farewell before hanging up.
"So you've got a job?" Clary asked.
"Yeah."
"Sorry we gotta cut this short." Dean added.
"No its ok. You can drop me off here." Clary pointed to the street corner.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I can take the subway."
Clary slid out of the backseat with ease. Sam nodded to her, but Dean paused for a moment.
"If your brother means that much to you, then you should look after each other. Family makes its own rules."
He smiled at her and in that moment, he was lovelier that Jace could ever hope to be and then it vanished. He gave her a brief wave. Clary watched them speed off down the road. She gave them a small smile as they got smaller and smaller.
SPNTMI
"Think this is legit?" Dean asked.
"It's this or nothing." Sam replied.
"True."
Sam pulled out his phone again, dialing rapidly.
"Who you calling now?"
"Jo. We could use her help."
SPNTMI
It was twilight in Central Park and the children had already gone, and the next shift of bikers and joggers now used the paths. There were quite a number of people there, but there was one all by herself and she was the one that should be paid attention to.
She was here on a job. She flexed her pale fingers before balling them into fists. The iron in her pockets felt comfortable, as well as the slender stone that was hanging around her neck. She strode down the path, dark eyes searching out the secret places. She stepped off the path and went into the small woods that surrounded the park. Ignoring the couples that hidden themselves inside the tangled brambles, her arms pushed past the fading foliage. The light was fading fast, and she picked up her stride; her leather jacket kept the chill away, not that she needed it to.
A faint sound could be heard on the breeze. Pausing, her body strained to hear more. There it was: sweet notes that were occasionally pierced with a sour pang, like finding a nail in a featherbed. She grinned; she was on the right track.
It didn't take long after that. They were easy to spot once you knew where to look. Faeries. All shapes and sizes. Ones that were made of bark, little men with wicked looking teeth, and slender things that moved eerily. Their eyes were wild and feral, and gorgeous. There was nothing human about them.
She grinned, wider this time. So many to choose from and so little time. A woman faerie with hair made entirely out of vines brushed past her and she shivered. They didn't even smell human. She followed the vine woman and pushed past a patch of thorny rosebushes. A sudden tug and pull sensation told her she was now in a different place, and her body wriggled at the shift.
A plethora of faeries surrounded a small clearing. There was a banquet table in the center and it was bending under the weight of its contents. It was heaped with fruits in wild colors, roasted meat and figs, and black water was being served in pale goblets.
Music was being played on harps with strings that were probably unpleasant things; that made her smile. The musicians were lounging on rugs and pillows that seemed to be made from human hair, and tiny sprites darted around in the branches above them, sparkling in time to the beat.
She scanned for a face. So many faces. Faces like foxes, and birds, and bark. Dresses spun from cobwebs, and leaves that still held dewdrops. Everything looked so fragile, and fleetingly pretty; even though she knew that applied more to humans than anything else. These creatures were vivid and timeless.
"Your glamour is strange. Are you one of us?" a voice asked.
She turned. She had no idea what kind of a faerie he was, but from a sudden pulse at her throat, she knew his age.
"What a question. What does make a human?"
The answer seemed to please him, and when he smiled his teeth were all points, like bone. He plucked a fruit from the table and handed it to her. It was pale, and the pit was visible beneath. It was soft and smooth and smelled sweet. Well there has never been a fruit not worth eating, and she bit into it.
She moaned in delight. It was meaty, a chunk of it slid down her throat; the smoky, spicy taste reminded her of home. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly as she sucked the pulp down. When she held the black pit in her hand she quickly bit into it. The earthy, bitter flavor burst in her mouth and she longed for more
Suddenly the music was sweeter, and she loved the bitter piercing tone that unexpectedly shot through the song. She swayed to it, feeling herself drown in it. She turned to the fey boy. His eyes were the color of raspberries and when he licked his lips, his tongue was black. She never wanted to leave; the stone pulsed at her throat and it seemed to drive needles into her neck in warning. She looked at him and could feel her smile become slow and liquid.
"Come walk with me."
He led her to a small path, and she hummed in time to the leaves rustling at their feet. The boy stopped once they were under a dogwood tree, its bark gleaming darkly. He sat beneath it, and his smile was terrible and handsome all at once. She sauntered to him, pressing herself onto the cold crushed grass next to him.
"Riddle prettily for me."
His slim fingers wound themselves into her hair; she purred when his claws struck her scalp. She burrowed into his skin, and he laughed.
"Hmmm, let's see. What makes one human?" she recited. "Go to a place with sulfur sunsets and see how well you fare."
He hummed appreciatively as his teeth nipped her lips, sending spasms throughout her body. She let her fingers graze her jeans as lightly as she could, just so she could give herself a little bit of torture. She had effectively pinned the fey boy beneath her, and his otherworldly heat competed with hers. She reached into her pocket, and felt the cold, reassuring weight inside.
"Mary Mary quite contrary." She growled.
She let her lips crash down on his, feeling his laughter rumble up into her throat. She felt the cold bar in her hand, and she brought it closer. Giving one last plunging kiss, she made her move. He didn't see it coming; she moved her mouth a fraction away from his and replaced it with a bar of iron. His shriek of pained surprise was quickly cut off. Growling, she threw all of her weight onto him, one hand pressed over his mouth and nose. He could not spit the iron out, and his eyes bulged as he could no longer get any air. His chest heaved up and down like prey. She took one look at his terror stricken face and laughed.
It was a high pitched laugh that pierced the air and could cut frost. She laughed long and loud. His body was now in the death throes, but he was still aware. She giggled, and bucked her hips to match his spasms. He finally went still, she sighed and the wind sprayed down the petals of the tree, sending them fluttering down onto the ground, into her hair, and on the faerie corpse.
She bent down to see his face, swollen from choking and eyes still open. His expression was rigid with shock. She nuzzled his neck before moving to get up. She ran a hand through her tousled curls, letting the air cool her nape.
"Thanks for the party."
She stood up and hauled his body up and over her shoulder like a sack of meat, and walked back onto the path.
Meg wondered which shortcut she should take.
SPNTMI
Jace sat in his cell, letting his vision adjust and he shifted to get more comfortable. He felt another traitorous thudding of unease; his breathing would not settle. Shadows danced on the walls, turning into shapes, and inched closer to him. Jace jumped, before shifting in shame; no one was here to see him behave like a coward, but still…
Shivering, he wrapped his arms around himself as far as his manacles would allow. Jace was led down here by The Inquisitor herself, but now he only had the company of The Silent Brothers and the dead Nephilim that were cremated and laid to rest in the mausoleum. Nothing to fear, but the feeling wouldn't subside.
'It's only for one night.' he reasoned.
This would be simple; the easiest thing he had done in a long time. He sighed; he wanted to say something to break the silence, but somehow that seemed blasphemous. He was still Nephilim and this was a part of his path, being afraid was unbecoming of a warrior.
'Just what daddy taught.'
A high piercing scream rent the air. Jace jumped, his manacles jangled warily and they chafed at his skin. He gasped in pain, but quickly stifled it. Every instinct in him screamed at him to stay quiet, to not move, and hope that whatever it was did not come near him. More screams shot through the walls, bouncing down the darkened corridors. Almost like ghosts talking to each other, repeating the horrors that had been done to them. Jace's teeth chattered, clacking together like mocking laughter.
'Get it together.'
He shuddered when another set of screams ran amok; screams of people who were unused to terror, the voices climbing higher and higher. As if the screams were being ripped out of them with such terrible violence that Jace flinched. Each sharp cry made him jump and rock back and forth. The screams belonged to the Silent Brothers. People who hadn't uttered a sound in years were suddenly crying out. They were terrified.
'There is nothing to fear from the City of Bones, so it must be something external. Something must have gotten in.' Jace inhaled sharply. 'But what could it be?!'
His heart was pounding hard enough to hurt, and his vision started to spot and blur. He never felt this way before, and he longed to drown out the sounds assaulting his ears. He couldn't picture what was causing the panic, but he could picture the panic itself well enough. Faces contorted with pain and fear swam up in his vision as the threat of…some kind of violence was being carried out.
A shadow leapt out and Jace shouted. Was that the sound of footsteps just now? The faint tinkling of laughter. He gritted his teeth, feeling his body shrink back into a corner. He bit his lips to prevent himself from whimpering and tasted blood. More shadows moved, as if they were running away. Something was groaning and wheezing, dragging its feet.
Jace was shaking, eyes wildly searching for anything that could be a weapon. It came into view, and a low moaning came out. It took him a minute to realize it was coming from him and Jace flushed with shame. It came into full view and staggered, clutching its chest. It was a Silent Brother-
Jeremiah!
He suddenly pitched, like being pushed down a flight of stairs. He hit the ground with a loud thump, like a sack of meat. Blood was welling and his mouth was a too full cup, its contents pouring out. It was coming towards him, and a deep throated giggling was coming from the end of the hall; it announced the arrival of the blood that was flowing towards Jace's feet. He scrambled to get away from it; it was the only color in the room.
The door was creaking open, and a tiny smidgen of light came from the cracks, deepening the shadows. Jace knew it was witchlight, but the brightness was hurting his eyes, and sending him reeling. The door was groaning and the giggling turned to singsong.
Jace could no longer breathe properly; things were just behind that door and only rusted iron bars stood between him and pain. His hands went to his chest; and he had the crazy thought that his heart might pop out and bounce away.
The noises stopped, and a figure came out from behind the door like some boogeyman from a childhood nightmare. The person didn't look like anything; Jace's mind couldn't focus on any details, except for one thing-
The person's eyes were jet black.
No color, pupil, or iris, just two pits. Jace stuck a fist into his mouth to keep from screaming. When the person smiled, Jace all but shrieked.
"Found ya."
Its voice carried down into the hall, repeating itself down the bloodstained passage way. It gripped a witchlight stone hard, letting the light bleach the world into clarity. Jace shivered as a second set of witchlight began to correspond with the already present light. Someone else was coming.
'What now?!' Jace wanted to wail.
The door creaked further as the second, larger figure came into view. This one was familiar, but that didn't help. It was Valentine.
"Thank you." he addressed it, before turning to Jace. "Jonathan."
The witchlight was making him tear up, and he'd be damned if he would whimper in front of them. Valentine bent down to Jace's level and was searching his face intently, and Jace shied away from the scrutiny. He wanted to stand tall and meet his father's gaze evenly, but he simply couldn't do it. Every muscle in his body shook and screamed.
"Who put you in here? The Lightwoods?" Valentine's voice was soft and there was anger.
Jace tried not to whimper. At the sound of that voice, he was a small boy again, playing on their front lawn and waiting to be scooped up into Valentine's arms. Even the fact that Valentine was angry on his behalf was enough to make him mewl in gratitude. He didn't want to feel this way.
"The Inquisitor." Jace managed to gasp.
Valentine made an ugly expression but smoothed into something else. "I see. So the Clave no longer trusts you."
"No thanks to you."
"It would have happened either way. The Clave is corrupt, and anyone willing to defy it is summarily destroyed."
'Then you aren't that different after all.' He gritted his teeth.
Valentine somehow looked gentle. "Unfortunately, I cannot trust you yet. I would like to, but since you are still so closely tied with those who want to destroy me, I cannot."
"Well don't worry, I don't trust you either." Jace willed his voice not to tremble.
Valentine smiled. "I have found a way to defeat the Clave."
Jace's eyes widened. He finally noticed the thickly strapped weapon across Valentine's back. A sword and one that looked familiar. Valentine noticed where Jace's gaze had gone. He pulled the blade out of its sheath; it made an impressive ringing when released. It was a huge sword, its hilt in the shape of a pair of outstretched wings. It thrummed with power and Jace shivered.
"Is that…?"
"Maellartach." Valentine's voice was filled with awe. "When you are ready for this and what I stand for, then you will find me."
The person with the black eyes looked up, startled. "Hey-they're here."
"Ah, yes thank you." Valentine re-sheathed the sword. "Well until we meet again."
Valentine turned his back on Jace and went to leave. Jace's heart sped up again, and he nearly screamed, but instead-
"Wait-just unchain me at least!" he shouted. "Can't you do that for me at least?!"
"That wouldn't do you any good." He followed the black eyed person. "Goodbye Jonathan."
SPNTMI
Clary's cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID, Simon's name glowing on the screen. She waited a few moments before flipping it open.
"Yeah."
"Hey. I've been trying to reach you all day."
"Oh yeah, I've kept it off all day. I've actually spent the day with Sam and Dean."
"Those two guys that spent the night at the Institute?"
"Yup."
Clary filled him in on the day's events.
"What?! Holy crap. Guess I missed an important day. Wow, I actually feel sorry for Jace."
"Simon."
"Well fine, but that Inquisitor lady sounds kinda bonkers. Better stay outta her way."
"No problems there, but I've got a bad feeling…"
"Same here. You said she represents the Clave. You sure you wanna keep hanging around-"
"Yes." Clary kept her voice firm. "There is something I want to tell you. I'm gonna bust Jace out." she heard Simon's sharp intake of breath.
"No way. Really?"
Clary thought back on Dean's parting words. "Yeah."
"Wait, tell me where you are. I'll meet you there, and we'll go together."
Clary hesitated. "No. It's fine."
"Figures." He sounded resigned, and a bit of something else.
"What does-wait never mind. I'll see you soon."
"I better. Later."
SPNTMI
Clary stood on the front steps of the Institute, brass knocker heavy in her hand. She took a shuddery breath; she had every right to be here!
"I am Clarissa Morgenstern, one of the Nephilim and I ask permission for entrance-"
No sooner than the words left her mouth did the doors fly open. Clary jumped back in surprise before striding into the doorway and down the aisles of pews. She pulled the elevator doors open and stepped inside. Getting inside to the marble foyer was easy, and she was glad that she remembered where Isabelle's room was. She stood outside Isabelle's door, anxiety roiling in her stomach; she hoped that she wasn't too upset from their last conversation. She knocked on the door, nerves making the sound jangle.
"Isabelle, you there?"
Clary thought that maybe no one heard her, but suddenly the door was yanked open.
"Clary?!" Isabelle's face was a portrait of shock. "What are you doing here?"
Clary winced. "…I'm sorry. About earlier today." she hesitated. "Can I come in?"
Isabelle suddenly looked drawn. "Yeah. Alright."
Isabelle swung her down open and Clary rushed in. It was as she remembered it. Clothes strewn in tandem with weapons and girly products littered her dresser drawer. The same wallpaper was in place, making it Isabelle's. It was entirely hers, and Clary felt an unexpected rush of affection.
"I came to say I'm sorry."
"Well that's all well and good." Isabelle replied, then seeing Clary's expression, added. "It's fine. We're good; I'm not surprised you reacted like that."
Clary looked around. Alec and Cas were in the room also. This seemed unusual, but that was probably ideal for what Clary wanted to do.
"There's something else." she hesitated.
"There always is with you." Isabelle groaned.
Clary made a disbelieving noise.
"She is right." Alec put in.
"I'm going to get Jace."
This was met with disbelieving looks. Clary wasn't going to waver, and she stood straighter.
"I know that Jace is pretty much a solider and he did something wrong-" she put air quotes on the word wrong, "but he is in trouble, I just know it. Besides, he shouldn't be in there anyway." She looked intently at them. "I only came back to see if you guys wanted to help."
Alec looked ready to say something, but a sudden ringing stopped him.
"Who is that now?" snapped Isabelle.
"What is that?" Clary asked.
"It's a phone." Alec explained, then clarifying, "Well obviously, I mean for calls for when we are needed. Where we're supposed to go and such." He followed Isabelle. "So someone needs help."
They all made to follow Isabelle into the study, but she was too quick and was back before they could get into the room. She looked tense; her whole body was ready for a fight.
"Well Clary I guess you got lucky. I just got a call from the Silent City. Something has attacked the Silent Brothers, but the details are sketchy."
Alec was all business. "Who is available for this?"
Isabelle's face was grim. "Just us."
Alec made a shrugging motion. "Then we have to go."
She nodded. "Alright then."
Clary was glad that she brought her stele, and she wondered if they were going to have to wear fighting gear.
"You can't-"
"I can and I will." Clary frowned. "Jace is my brother. So I will come with you."
"I will accompany you also." Cas suddenly put in.
"No-"
"I insist." his voice was firm and his gaze intense.
"Let him." Isabelle snapped. "We need to move fast. Clary, did you bring your stele?"
"Of course."
SPNTMI
Dean led Sam and Jo down the lawn. Both flanked him silently. They had dispatched the guards at the front of the iron wrought gates and then hung back in the darkness. They were looking for a less conspicuous entrance, and when the clouds ghosted away from the moon and illuminated the ground. The soft light filtered down on their hair and eyes, making them shine. Dean stopped, raising his hand in warning. Sam and Jo halted and looked warily around. Dean pointed to a set of stairs that led down to an out of the way wooden door. He led them down the steps and Sam brushed past him to pick the lock.
The door barely made a sound and they crept inside. From the slivers of moonlight showed that they were inside a wine cellar. Dean made a face and pulled a bottle out of the rack. He made a punch line with his expression. Sam frowned disapprovingly and Dean reluctantly put it back. Jo nudged the both boys and ducked her head in the direction of another door.
Sam and Dean shared a look before pulling out their guns. This door was unlocked and behind them was a set of narrow stairs that led up to a hallway. They had no choice but to go up them single file. The stairs creaked nervously beneath them, as if warning against their intrusion. With Dean and the lead, Jo behind him, and Sam bringing up the rear they made good time. The place seemed empty.
It was a well-furnished place, with furniture gleaming in the dark. They were all mahogany and velvet, with paintings that were framed heavily with ornate designs. Every piece looked well taken care of and as if they had been painstakingly hunted down.
"Nice digs." Dean mouthed.
Jo rolled her eyes in response and Sam shushed them with his hands. Music was floating up from another room. It wasn't hard to find; it was a good song, and it led them straight to him. The door was wide open and they could see a figure, with its-or his back to them. Dean nodded to the two and raised his gun a little higher. The music suddenly cut off, and the trio tensed. The man suddenly sat up straighter. He set down the drink he was holding.
"Well it's about time." his voice managed to be both smooth and gravelly. "Do you know how long I've had to wait for you?"
"Crowley." Dean grimaced.
Crowley smiled. "A pleasure, etc etc."
Sam lifted his knife and Crowley raised his hands in mock surrender. The blade glinted menacingly, its inscription easily seen. Crowley eyed the blade with a cool distaste.
"I assume you want the Colt?"
The boys looked briefly surprised before smoothing their expressions into something grimmer.
"It'd be a good idea to just give it to us." Sam let the blade shimmer.
Crowley appeared to consider this. "True. Unfortunately, I do not have it on me."
"That's a shame." Sam moved to attack.
Jo grabbed his arm. "Wait." she turned to Crowley. "So the gun hasn't been melted down?"
"Of course not, since I was the one who started the rumors in the first place."
"Why?" Dean was baffled.
Crowley seemed to think this was a stupid question. "So you would be the only ones to get your hands on it."
This confused the three of them. "What, why?" Dean asked.
"So you can use it against Satan, the big man himself."
"That makes no sense." Sam put in. "You're a demon too-"
"Oh, I forgot-I'm speaking to idiots."
Dean made a disparaging noise. "You're an idiot…idiot."
Jo rolled her eyes again. "Then humor us. Why?"
"Self-preservation. Lucifer is an angel. Once he is finished destroying humanity, who do you think he will move onto next?"
"But…he made demons." Dean pointed out.
"We're just cannon fodder, just the grunts on the ground. We all used to be humans once, but made even worse-" he gave a deprecating smile. "He has no respect for those he corrupts."
"So this is-" Sam began.
"Oh boo hoo-what exactly do you want us to do about it?" Dean asked snappishly.
"I want you take the colt and shoot dear old Lucifer." he gave them a wicked smile. "Try not to miss."
"If you don't have it, then where is it?" Sam asked, still suspicious.
"With the Faerie Queen." Crowley replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Huh?" Dean gaped.
"She lives in New York." He said this with a straight face, and then elaborated. "Well, there is an entrance to her court in New York City."
"H-how? Faeries are real? Really?" Sam was skeptical, but more than that, he was incredulous.
"Of course." Crowley looked at the three hunters. "Why is this so hard to believe?"
"Um maybe because it sounds crazy." Dean replied.
"There are many things you haven't encountered before. Doesn't make them less real." Crowley countered.
Sam nudged Dean. "He does have a point." he gave his brother a meaningful look.
"Ok, so where is this Queen?" Dean asked.
"Silarial is the Queen of the Seelie Court. One of the entrances to her court is in New York City, central park to be exact."
"Of course." Sam deadpanned.
"Just one question." Dean asked.
"Hmm?"
"Why give a gun to a fairy?"
Crowley held up two fingers. "One, we have worked out an arrangement, just mention my name and what you want and she'll give it to you. Two, iron is deadly to the Fair Folk."
Jo slapped her fist against her other palm. "So even if someone else figures out the colt still works, they won't know where to get it, and since you're the only one who knows where it really is, they can't kill you to figure it out. I bet if the Queen ever tries to betray you, she won't be able to use it against you."
"You don't seem to be as dim as the wonder twins."
Jo was undaunted. "I like to think its cuz' of my hair."
"If you're trying to trick us-" Sam's voice became deadly.
"You'll know where to find me." Crowley cut in smoothly.
SPNTMI
The three strode back to the Impala, their shoes crunched on the gravel as they hurried away from the stone home. None of them put their weapons away, even though they met no demons on the way.
"Do you think he was lying?" asked Sam.
"Like you heard, whatever happens, we know where to find him." Dean replied.
They packed up the trunk and began to climb in. Dean was looking thoughtful as he turned the ignition.
"Although I think that those Shadowhunters are more credible now."
Jo leaned forward from the backseat. "Wait I haven't heard this."
Sam twisted in his seat and gave her a quick rundown. Jo' eyes widened and she whistled. Dean pulled out his cell phone.
"Who are you calling?" Sam asked.
"Bobby. He probably knows something." He moved his mouth away from the receiver. "They called them the Fair Folk right?"
"Yeah."
Jo turned back to Sam, half listening to Dean greeting Bobby. "So faeries really are real?"
"Sure looks like it."
"Hang on." Dean said, putting the phone on speaker. "Ok, say what?"
"So you Idjits wanna tangle with the Fair Folk?"
"What can I say; we just love to do things the hard way." Dean replied.
"Hey Bobby." Sam greeted. "We got a lead on the colt. Apparently it's with the Seelie Faerie Queen."
Bobby cursed. "Well that's great. Do you have any idea what we're dealing with?!"
"Umm, Tinkerbelle?"
"Boy." Bobby's voice wiped the smile from Dean's face. "The lore of the Folk is old, and none of it pretty."
"When is it ever?" Sam replied. "Lay it on us Bobby."
SPNTMI
Castiel followed the Shadowhunter children down the steps into the Silent City. His ears popped of their own accord; the body knew that it was entering a place that was pocketed away from the rest of the city. He was confused; the identity of Shadowhunters was a baffling mystery to him, and one he was determined to solve. A fluttering aura was permeating the atmosphere. It was strong in the Silent City, as if the inhabitants had made it that way, or maybe it was the other way around.
Isabelle was in the lead, with Clary close behind her. Alec was flanking them, but Castiel was bringing up the rear. They moved haltingly, the light was dim and scattered. Castiel could see fine, but he knew the other three could not. They used their witchlight stones, the light looking familiar to his eyes. It was almost angelic, but he wasn't sure how that could be possible. Their lights flared, casting stark shadows across the vast room, and gave a small fizz as they did so.
He could see the large marble slabs; they seemed to give some sort of energy, as though they were alive somehow; it gave him an errant thought that it could be a spell of some sort, after all there were some power in the bones of saints…
"Where are the cells?" Clary asked.
This snapped Castiel out of his reverie. He banished the stray question of why he was thinking of such specific spells, when he noticed the smell. Alec wrinkled his nose.
"On the level below us. Does anyone notice that smell?" Alec asked.
"I do." Castiel replied.
Their small group didn't pause, and they entered a pavilion with a glittering canopy. It served as an entrance to an elaborate room. The room was high with a domed ceiling, and had circular benches that kept rising up, stairs in between them. There were slender poles that held witchlight at their tops, and they stood at every corner. Their light was doused however, and it made the children squint. The floor had a mosaic of an angel rising upwards. Castiel felt his heartbeat rise and heard his sudden intake of breath.
"What is this place?" he looked around.
He noticed the ceiling had glimmering a light, giving the impression that one was looking at a swathed starry sky. Behind the highest row of benches stood a fixed holder; it was mounted on the wall and had the indentations of a…sword. It was no longer there, but it still emanated power. Castiel strode over to it, hearing his question being answered by Clary.
"They call this the Speaking Stars; it's where the Silent Brothers hold meetings. I've been here before but-" she cut herself off with a grimace of disgust. "Seriously, what is that smell?"
Castiel didn't answer, but he already identified the scent. It was the smell of rotting bodies. Something else was more pressing: they were killed by something dark. He sensed the same darkness when he first met the Shadowhunter children when he killed the creature they were fighting. He felt his wings shudder in irritation; he couldn't understand why it brought out such a heady surge of violence in him, but he wanted to figure out the Shadowhunters more so.
Castiel put his fingertips to the indentations of where a sword had been held, and-he gasped. A sudden jolt went through him, flooding his body. His wings shuddered, longing to get free as nostalgia overcame him.
'This power…'
A flash went through him, like a memory, although it was not his own. He saw, actually saw it. It came before his eyes like a film reel scene. An angel had once wielded the sword that hung on the wall. An angel that was full of righteous fire, and was impaling a creature similar to the one Castiel had recently encountered. Was it Michael? The angel's grace felt familiar, and Castiel felt his own grace respond to the memory of power.
'Amazing. How did an angelic sword end up here of all places?'
Castiel turned to regard the children, the memory fading from his eyes as they powered the witchlight stones to burn brighter. They shouted; bodies were being illuminated. The one nearest to them was impaled on one of the light poles, as though it was some type of greeting to them. Blood was everywhere. Coming out of mouths, ears, and noses. It streaked the walls, dripped onto the ground, and poured and puddled underneath their feet.
The Silent Brothers faces were contorted horribly, wearing obvious expressions of terror. Rigor had already set in, their hands stone-like and clutching their chests. The three took out their weapons, but Castiel bent down to examine the bodies. He ignored the disturbed cries of the Shadowhunters; he couldn't blame them.
He searched intently at the face of the nearest Silent Brother. Strange markings were all over the body. They weren't exactly Enochian in script, but it was similar enough to confuse Castiel and he even felt his grace stutter in response. Almost as if it was recalling something. He felt his resolve hardening. The rest of the body was pale, and the stitches from the mouth were fluttering open. The smaller details were ones he hadn't paid much attention to after seeing the strange markings on the body. They weren't entirely dissimilar to the ones he saw on the Shadowhunter children, but seemed to speak a different form of the language. Castiel guessed that they served a different purpose.
'The Silent Brothers seemed to be a different sect of Shadowhunters.'
"Why did this happen?" Alec asked.
"Perhaps because those creatures attacked." Castiel replied absently.
"You mean demons?" Clary asked.
Castiel frowned. "Those creatures are not demons."
"And you know this because you are an angel?" Isabelle asked somewhat testily.
"Yes." Castiel deadpanned. "I am an angel of the Lord."
This was met with sounds of disbelief, anxiety, and irritation. Castiel sensed this might have something to do with the murdered men that surrounded them. He sighed; he didn't think he was irritated. Castiel was reminded of Dean, when they first met and of the man's expression when first locked eyes. Hard green eyes that held pain and determination, and loyalty…
"Umm guys we need to get to Jace." Clary put in with quiet urgency.
Inspired, Castiel stood back from them and closed his eyes. Pulling in energy, his grace thrummed happily in the surroundings and he let it guide him. The witchlight seemed to glow in response and got brighter; the air seemed to vibrate. Castiel heard the gasps from the children and he wanted to pull in their energy, the energy inside them that made his grace flutter and want to mingle with…whatever it was. He frowned in momentary confusion. They did not have grace, and they seemed incomplete because of that. So by all rights, his grace shouldn't be reacting in such a way; he never felt that way around human beings before. Castiel even felt saddened that he couldn't interact with them in such a way. He pushed that emotion aside and concentrated.
He felt his vessel's body ripple. The muscles contracting in a way that was both painful and pleasurable. Castiel vaguely noted this as he felt his wings began to unfold. He smiled; it felt comfortable to unsheathe his wings, almost like stretching after a long nap. Shadows and light played against each other against the walls, and Castiel made sure that it was enough so that his wings could be seen without hurting the children. He let the shadows give depth to his wings, and he knew he couldn't do much else. Revealing anymore would be careless…and harmful.
He opened his eyes, and smiled. They were all staring at him. With wide eyes and rigid, awe-struck expressions. Something akin to fear and they were frozen. Castiel folded his wings back, and let them rest inside. The lights dimmed back and the shadows settled, tamed again. He gestured to the missing sword's placeholder.
Alec's eyes widened even more. "The sword-it's gone."
"By the Angel." Isabelle breathed.
Castiel tilted his head. That was an unusual expression. His eyes met with Clary's. She seemed frozen, but somehow was in distracted thought, as if woken up from deep thought. Her eyes were green, but very different than Dean's, but somehow, in a way, he was reminded of Dean.
"Wait." she startled. "If the sword is gone. I bet it was Valentine."
Her words made the Lightwood siblings freeze, turning to look at Clary.
"Valentine took it, and if he was here than- Jace, we have to get him!" She shouted.
Clary took off at a run, her steps echoing loudly. Isabelle and Alec shouted after her, and hurried to catch up. Castiel gave the room one final look before following them. His stride quickly matching pace with Clary's. They raced to the lower level, pushing past the door. It slammed wide open.
"Jace, are you in here?!" Clary shouted.
"…Clary, is that you?" a voice croaked.
"Yeah."
Castiel watched Clary pull out a slim object and it seemed to glow with determination. She studied the bars to Jace's cell for a moment.
"Stand back."
She took the object in her hand and pressed it against the bars. She made a…drawing motion. It was a strange, wild gesture. Castiel could have sworn she just written a word. It said 'Open.' The bars groaned in protest before bending and snapping. It resisted briefly before breaking apart and the pieces flew in all directions. Castiel shifted to avoid being hit. He heard the faint click of metal unlocking and Clary rushed into the cell.
"Jace!"
Alec and Isabelle rushed into the room. They cried out, and circled by the blasted open cell. They only gave Castiel a brief looks before walking into the cell. Castiel tilted his head as he watched Alec and Clary take a side next to Jace and lifted him up. Isabelle had taken out her own slender object and was moving it across Jace's skin. It was as though it was a pencil and Jace's skin was mere paper.
A faint, tracing burn could be seen on Jace's skin, and Castiel felt a minor thrill of power even from his distance. The marking looked similar to Enochian and Castiel could read it; angels never suffered from language barriers, but its resemblance to the angelic language was somewhat off putting. He didn't know why; Castiel was getting entranced by the swirling lines that seemed comfortable and minor. Nothing that could match him, but…
"Let's get outta here." Isabelle said. "We have to inform the Clave.
"We've got you Jace." Clary softly murmured.
"Let's go." Alec grunted.
They hurried to leave behind the stench of bodies and the broken, dancing light.
SPNTMI
"I'm coming with you."
Jo's voice was firm. Dean glanced at Sam, and looked back at Jo.
"This is-"
"I know. It'll be dangerous, but I can handle it." she smiled.
"Figured you'd say that."
Jo just grinned. She looked at both of them expectantly.
"So what's the next step? Where do we find the Queen?" she asked.
"Well, we could try hills, or anything with water." Sam suggested. "Or leave something out for faeries to find."
"Yay." Dean tried to amend his reply. "Well, we could give them a dead baby."
Sam made a face. "Dean."
"What?" he turned to look at Sam and Jo briefly before looking back at the road. "From what Bobby said, they might actually like that."
Sam appeared to agree. "Still."
Jo looked thoughtful. "What about those Shadowhunter people? Can we get in touch with them and see if they can hook us up?"
"I bet they can." Sam mused, if somewhat unhappily.
Dean was also reluctant. "Yeah, but they didn't exactly roll out the welcome wagon."
"We could try Cas." Sam pointed out.
This seemed to cheer Dean up. "There is that." he pulled out his cell phone.
SPNTMI
Castiel watched Isabelle push open the entrance. He blinked; he was aware of the presence of many more Shadowhunters, even before stepping out into the night air. Clary inhaled sharply. Castiel set his feet onto the grass and peered at the faces staring back at them. More than a dozen men and women wearing black encircled them. They carried witchlight stones with them, letting the light blaze and leave nothing hidden. Castiel read their aggression, and wondered what it was that made them so defensive.
"Wait!" a voice called out. "Those are my children!"
"Mom?" Isabelle called back.
The crowd shifted and murmured. Isabelle's mother looked ready to stride to their side; her eyes widened when she noticed Jace. She was pulled back by another woman with cold, hawk-like features, and Castiel was struck by the aura of deep pain that surrounded her.
"Explain this immediately!" the hawk woman shouted.
Jace groaned at the sound of her voice.
"Inquisitor…" Alec began.
"What is he doing out of the Silent City?!"
Clay stared at the Inquisitor incredulously. "You can't be serious-"
Alec cut her off. "The Silent Brothers are dead."
A ripple of sound and unease went through the crowd. The suspicious glares intensified. Castiel watched a young woman with silver hair stare intently at Clary before he turned his gaze back to Alec and the Inquisitor. Said Inquisitor look ready to barrage them with another round of questions.
"The Soul-Sword has been stolen as well."
'So that's what they call it. '
"By Valentine?" Isabelle's mother, Maryse asked.
The Inquisitor scoffed. "Of course. I imagine he was aided by his son."
"That's ridiculous!" shouted Clary. "Look at him!"
Jace's breathing had become labored, and if he wasn't being held up, he would have sunken to the ground already. His face was devoid of color, eyes glassy. He seemed to have a hard time focusing.
"Valentine must have heard that his son was inside the Silent City when he made to steal the sword." The Inquisitor said. "He knew Jonathan would be there and planned accordingly."
"Doubt it." Jace rasped. "He doesn't care about me, he just wanted the sword."
"Ridiculous, the sword can only perform one function: to determine a Shadowhunters' honesty. Obviously Valentine would have no need of such an object."
Castiel was about to tell her that the sword could do much more than that but was stopped by a fierce glare from Isabelle; his intent must have been plain. He had a strange wish not be scrutinized too deeply by such a large crowd.
"It is a powerful object; he must have desired it simply because it was so. Maybe with the added satisfaction that he has taken something important from us. To say there is nothing we can keep from him." Maryse pointed out, not unreasonably.
Jace wheezed again and Clary and the Lightwoods seemed to flinch at the sound.
"He needs help!"
This seemed to irritate the Inquisitor, as if Jace was merely inconvenient and just spoiling her plans out of spite. She shook her head irritably. She waved her hands dismissively.
"He'll be fine." Her gaze rested on the children and Castiel. "Furthermore, I assume you came all this way just to take him out of what you all consider an unjust punishment."
"No." Alec spoke up, his voice firm. "We came because we got a distress call from the Silent City. No one else answered it. We were merely doing our jobs. What I would like to know is where everyone else was?"
Maryse answered. "We got a call ourselves. A fey child was murdered in Central Park. It was so similar to the death of the warlock boy that-"
"That we assumed it was urgent. This has trap written all over it. Valentine murders a Downworlder and we are sent out, meanwhile he is actually elsewhere, stealing a prized possession! A trap. And we walked right into it."
"That is a likely explanation." Castiel put in.
The Inquisitor's eyes narrowed to slits.
"Who are you?"
"He is a friend of Magnus's." Alec replied hastily.
"Magnus Bane the warlock?" she didn't seem to believe it.
"High Warlock of Brooklyn." On anyone else the answer might have seemed smarmy, but Alec was earnest.
The Inquisitor shook her head, like she was trying to get rid of a fly. "Very well."
She made a motion for the Shadowhunters to move. They glided past the small group and down into the steps of the Silent City. Only the silver haired woman turned back to look at them, and she locked eyes with Clary before she followed the others. Alec flipped out his cell phone and began typing on it hurriedly. The Inquisitor turned back to Jace, lip curled in distaste.
"What to do with you now? I will not have you returning to the Institute when your name hasn't even by cleared yet."
"He could stay with Clarissa. She is his sister." Maryse suggested somewhat reluctantly.
"…No…" Jace moaned.
Clary looked at Jace with a wounded expression. She looked back at the two women angrily.
"He needs help, not an interrogation!" she shouted.
Alec's cell phone beeped unexpectedly, startling them all. He began playing with the phone, fingers flying over the keys. Both Maryse and Isabelle gave him disbelieving looks, seemingly wondering what he was doing at a time like this. He looked back at the women, surprised at their gaping scrutiny.
"I have a suggestion." he spoke up. "Jace could be housed in the home of Magnus Bane."
Both the Inquisitor and Maryse raised their eyebrows.
"Of course." was the acidic reply from the Inquisitor.
"But that-"
"Can easily be arranged." A new voice spoke up.
A tall thin man with spiked multicolored hair strode into the clearing. He wore an old fashioned looking coat, and tight black pants. His face was painted in an array of colors. His eyes were a green-gold and had the pupils of a cat. Castiel thought he was the strangest person he had ever seen, but that wasn't what made a chill go through him. It was the strange aura that he had. It was the same as the creature that Castiel had fought. Well, not quite the same, but in a similar group. It was faint and covered. Like dust beneath a bed. It made his grace rise and his wings flurry in agitation. Castiel could sense the humanity next to it, and the buzz of energy inside that seemed to be a natural extension of the man's overall being. There was no malice in his eyes, so Castiel forced himself to relax.
Magnus seemed to sense the scrutiny, but he gave Castiel a brief wink in greeting and turned to the Inquisitor and Maryse.
"How-?" Maryse asked.
Alec waved his phone somewhat sheepishly.
"I thought we could use his help, since he'd be a neutral party in this."
Magnus inclined his head. "I'd be happy to help. For a fee of course."
"Of course." the Inquisitor echoed.
"Discount rate."
Maryse stepped forward to Magnus. She began to settle a price and the two set the terms of the contract. Castiel watched as Jace was hauled up and the girls and Alec made their way to Magnus's side. Magnus greeted Jace cheerfully before giving a meaningful look to Alec and then a questioning one to Castiel. The Inquisitor gripped Maryse's arm. The two strode off without another word. Just as it seemed everyone was about to leave, Castiel's phone rang.
SPNTMI
"Dean."
"Hey. We got a lead on the colt."
"I may have something too."
Dean glanced at Sam. "Really?"
"A holy artifact has been stolen. A sword."
"Ok, by who?"
"…I believe by a man named Valentine."
"Wait, isn't that the name of Clary's father?" Sam asked.
Jo looked a little puzzled as she listened from the back seat. Dean gave a brief nod to Sam.
"And…you want to do something about it?"
"I'm not sure." Cas seemed hesitant.
Jo leaned forward, speaking into the phone's mouthpiece. "Are you still with the shadow people?"
"Yes."
"Then tell them we need to know a way to get the Faerie Queen. That's where the colt is."
"I see. Something odd seems to have happened."
Dean groaned. "Of course."
"A faerie child was murdered tonight, apparently done by Valentine as well."
"You think this is connected?" Sam asked.
"I think we shouldn't discount anything."
"Alright." Dean nodded, though Cas wouldn't see. "We'll be there sometime tomorrow."
"I could-"
"No. I've been driving for hours, I'm tired. We'll see you tomorrow." Dean shut his phone.
The three were silent for a few moments. Finally Jo spoke up.
"So. Shadowhunters huh?"
Sam nodded. "Yup."
"So what are they, like supernatural police?"
Dean snorted. "Crazy huh?"
"How come we've never heard of them?"
"Beats me."
"Think something bigger is going on?" Sam asked, looking at the other two.
Dean sighed. "All I know right now is that I need coffee."
They lapsed into silence as the Impala sped down a dark road.
SPNTMI
TBC…