Ascension

"Are you okay?" Jace tried to swipe Clary's hand away, but she grabbed his wrist with surprising strength and held them out of her way. "Let me see your neck, where the demon was licking you."

"Clary, I'm fine," Jace groaned, more out of pride than pain. "Let me see your arm, it's bleeding badly."

Clary hadn't even noticed her arm was bleeding, she'd been so caught up in her terror of Jonathan and Jace's injuries that she'd forgotten she'd been bitten. "Do you have a stele?"

"No," Jace admitted, "but I can clean it and bind it up. Come with me to the bathroom; I can probably get Aline to bring me some herbs from the kitchen."

As if she'd heard Jace say her name, Aline came scuttling out of the mess that was the Queen's rooms. She took in the sight of Jace and Clary, bleeding, bruised, and tattered, and gulped loudly. "W-what do you need?"

"Aline, do you know your herbs?" Jace asked, leading Clary into the bathroom. When Aline only looked confused, Jace sighed. "I'll write out a list and you can take it down to the kitchens and have someone get them for you. There is a human down there who can read, right?"

"Yes," Aline murmured, watching the blood from Clary's arm pool on the floor. She drew back slightly. "I'll go fast."

Jace told Clary to soak her arm in a bucket of water while he wrote out a list for Aline. She fled, running for the kitchen and the safety of human company while Jace returned to Clary. She was watching the water turn slowly pink as her blood leaked out. When she saw Jace coming, she nodded to her arm.

"It looks worse than it is, I promise," Clary said. Jace plucked her arm out of the water and turned it over gently.

"It looks pretty horrible," Jace said, and found a towel. He dried her arm off and then began tying it off around her upper arm. "As soon as Aline gets here, I'll clean it, but for now, how about you now lose any more blood?"

"Do you think it's poison?" Clary wondered. "I was bitten by a demon, and they have all sorts of horrible diseases in their bodies."

Jace frowned. "We'll clean it and keep an eye on it. We can always petition Jonathan for a stele; he doesn't want you dead, after all." Jace sat quietly for a minute, and then looked into Clary's eyes. "Your brother Clary, he needs help; I didn't know how bad he was…how far gone."

Clary turned away. "Jace, he's not gone, he-he just needs help. He didn't make me hurt you."

Jace looked incredulous. "Clary, he broke my rib, and let his demons attack you; he clearly wasn't trying to keep us in one piece."

"He's just confused and the demons, he keeps them around and they make him do things," Clary knew how ridiculous she sounded. "Please, he needs our help."

"I don't deny that he needs help, but I don't know if you can give it to him," Jace said, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to risk your safety for him."

"He's my brother," she said softly, staring at her arm. "I know he's done horrible things, but I think there's a way to him. It's just…"

Jace wanted to shake Clary until she said she'd just forsake her vain hope, but he felt that familiar tingling in his arm, spreading up into him. It was Clary, it was her hope and faith and her love. "Just what?"

"Do you remember what he said?" Clary asked, thinking back to those last horrifying moments. "He said, can I have nothing?"

"And so?"

Clary shrugged. "It just sounded so…so desolate, like he'd tried being nice, and it didn't work, and he tried being cruel, but he realized that didn't work either. He wants something Jace, but I don't think even he knows what it is."

"He wants you," Jace said darkly.

"He wants us," Clary denied. "He didn't have to bring you along, he didn't even have to let the two of us stay together. Jonathan wants me because he thinks he loves me, but he wants you for something. I just don't know yet."

My brother-in-law wants to bed my wife and keep me like a pet, Jace thought darkly. "If he wants a friend, he should try not letting his demons eat me."

"Better a friend than a lover," Clary snorted as Aline returned with her arms laden with goods.

Jace was glaring when Aline said, "I've got the herbs, sir."

"Bring them here," Jace said, not taking his eyes off Clary. Jace crushed up the herbs and dumped them into water before bringing it to a boil. The smell of earth and plants filled the air and Clary felt heady. "Alright, let me see your arm."

Clary held it up and Jace dipped a cloth in the softly simmering liquid. He pat Clary's arms with it, but she gasped suddenly and Aline stumbled back. "Jace, it hurts, stop! Stop!"

Jace jerked the cloth back and was horrified to see that her arm was turning black around the bite marks, and she wasn't bleeding anymore, the punctures were oozing white foam. "By the Angel," Jace whispered.

"It hurts," Clary groaned, and she crumpled back, holding it against her chest. "Jace, it's burning."

"Okay, okay, let me see," Jace said, trying to grab hold of it and failing while Clary whined and rubbed her arm. "Clary, let me see it!"

"W-what happened?" Aline stuttered, watching the white foam leak out. "I'll g-get some help."

"Wait, Aline-" Jace called, but she was gone. He growled under his breath and managed to wrest Clary's arm away from her. "Let me see this."

"My shoulder hurts," Clary said while Jace tried to clean it with just water. "What happened?"

"You were bitten by a demon," said a calm voice. "It was clearly toxic, and now, you're suffering adverse side effects. Tell me, Jace, do you feel it yet?"

Jonathan was watching the display with a smirk and Jace narrowed his eyes. "Help her, Jonathan."

"And why would I do that?" Jonathan asked. "It'll be a at least a day before she's in a critical stage; until then, she'll just be in horrible pain, and, since you two are bonded together, so will you." Jonathan looked very pleased with the idea. "I would very much like to watch you suffer."

"She's your sister!" Jace snarled, and as if Jonathan could see the future, his arm started to tingle with an unpleasant heat.

"No," Jonathan said, coming closer and looking from Clary's arm and then into her eyes. She blinked back tears. "She gave up the right to call me brother when she betrayed me. Clarissa is nothing but a servant in my palace now."

Jace could feel the heat in his arm growing and he looked over at Clary who was slumped over her arm. "She could die."

"No, she couldn't," Jonathan said, and then he sat down on the edge of the tub, resting his elbows on his knees. "I fancy I know a thing or two more than you about demons. I have until dawn tomorrow to perform the healing rune."

"Why are you doing this?" Jace demanded, and rose to his feet. He stood taller than Jonathan, but Jonathan just looked up at him and smiled.

"Because I can, and because I'm bored," Jonathan shrugged. "You see, since you two pulled out of our play, I had nothing to do after that. The demons wanted to eat, so I let them-"

"Stop it."

"-but what was I to do? I certainly wasn't hungry, at least not in the way they are. And the job of the court is to keep me entertained. Since the rest of my court was busy, I thought I'd come here."

"You think watching your sister suffer is entertainment?" Jace snarled, and his arm was stinging. "You're a monster."

Jonathan's hand snapped up and grabbed Jace's burning arm; he gasped and crumpled to his knees. "You're going to call me names? I am your king! I am your master! Shall I put you in your place, Jace?" Jace jerked his arm back and forth, but Jonathan wouldn't let go. "Get down, boy!" Jonathan ordered, and threw him to the floor.

Jace rolled over before Jonathan could aim a kick at him. Clary, who had seen it all from her place on the floor, reached out. "No, Jonathan, don't!"

Jonathan paused and looked over to Clary. "My dear, I can't abide a slave saying such things to me."

"H-he's just worried about me."

"All the better reason for me to let him watch you suffer," Jonathan answered, and his eyes were glowing with a manic light. "I'm not going to spare you either, Clary. In fact, I think we should, perhaps, retire somewhere where I can be a bit more comfortable to watch you two."

"You're sick!" Jace roared from his place on the floor. "Leave her alone!"

Jonathan had grabbed Clary under her arms and was lifting her to her feet. Clary was shrieking all the while, her arm oozing on the floor. "Be quiet, wench," Jonathan snarled.

Jace scrambled after Jonathan, who was now tugging Clary because she had found her footing. Jace was pleased to see who was putting up a fight, but when Jonathan spun about and caught her across the face with the back of his hand, she tumbled sideways and he was able to pull her along without any resistance. Jonathan threw open the doors to his chamber and tossed Clary in; Jace lunged at Jonathan then, and the two fell into the room.

"You really think you're a better fighter than me?" Jonathan asked as he and Jace rolled across the floor. "You may have a lion's share of the Angel's blood, but I've got something much better."

"The blood of a monster!" Jace snarled, landing on top of Jonathan. He pulled back his fist to hit the other boy, but Jonathan was quicker, and caught his fist. "We know the truth, Clary and I, about what Valentine did to you. We know about the demon blood."

Whatever Jonathan expected Jace to say, it's hadn't been that; his face paled a shade and for a moment, his eyes widened in surprise. "And who told you that?"

"I wouldn't be too worried about it," Jace answered, trying to free his fist. "It's the truth, that's all that matters."

Jonathan threw Jace off him and pounced on top of him. "You don't know the half of it, because if you did, you wouldn't speak to me so petulantly. You, little Angel Boy, would live in fear of my might."

"You're a demon," Jace spat. "That's all I need to know."

Jonathan smiled then and reached into his pocket to reveal of knife, its tip wickedly sharp. "Perhaps we should talk about blood, then, eh?"

"Jonathan, don't!" It was Clary, and she had managed to stumbled over to the two boys, wrapped her hand weakly around Jonathan's wrist.

"Ah, and dear little, Clary, too," Jonathan said, swinging his arm around, and her with it. Clary landed on the floor beside Jace, and she looked up at her brother in horror.

"Why do you do this to us, Jonathan?" Clary gasped. "I'm your sister, and Jace, he's your brother; if you would let us, we could be your friends."

"I know now that you and I can't be friends, Clary," Jonathan said darkly. "We are as water and oil; it is in our natures, you see, to hate each other. It is only unfortunate for you that I want to keep you two alive."

"Stop speaking in riddles," Jace snapped, eyeing the knife in Jonathan's hand.

"Take heart, Jace, that if I could, I would kill you," began Jonathan, "but we share a history, the three of us, and when I've burned this world to ashes, it is us three who will rise up."

"I don't understand," Clary moaned, clutching her arm. "If your nature is to hate us, why bother keeping us alive?"

"I told you!" Jonathan roared. "You and I are the last Morgensterns, and Jace…it was just the luck of the draw that brought him here. Were you any other man, I would have killed you by now."

Clary's hand shot out for Jace as if Jonathan could kill him by just his words. "You want us so badly; let us help you."

"There is nothing to help," Jonathan chuckled darkly. "I'm not ill, little sister, I've not been poisoned; I am simply being who I am." He held the blade against the throbbing vein in Jace's wrist. "This is my nature."

"What do you mean?" Jace asked carefully, aware that he was the disposable one.

"You say you know what Valentine did to me," Jonathan said with a manic smile, "but have you never wondered about yourselves?"

"Just keep your wits about you and don't say anything stupid."

"Thank you for the advice," Isabelle said scathingly, "because I was planning on telling the Inquisitor and Counsel that they could both go rot in hell. So glad you got to me first, though."

Magnus raised an eyebrow and looked to Alec. "Keep an eye on your sister; with her mouth, you're both likely to be banished from the city."

Alec grinned as he looked down, but Isabelle caught his eye and he managed to rearrange his face into something serious. "It's a quick ceremony, isn't it? We'll go, and give our oaths, swear fealty to the Clave, and then drink from the Cup, that's it, right?"

"Yes, in essence, but I'm sure the Inquisitor is liable to drag on a bit about honor and bravery and dedication, and you'll have to sit through it all. So, be ready for the long haul."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. It wasn't really her fault, but when she was nervous, Isabelle seemed annoyed with everything around her. "Can we just go in already?"

"The Clave is making a big production of this," Magnus sighed. "Afterward, they'll probably ask you to go give a speech or something to the general public, encouraging men and women to join them. You're going to be the face of their movement."

Just what I want, thought Isabelle darkly. I'm not doing this for the Clave, I'm doing it for Clary and Jace. "Well, I haven't got time for that, have I? I've got to train."

Magnus smiled slyly at her. "Nice try, Isabelle, but they're not letting you off that easy."

Alec caught Isabelle's shoulder before she could respond. "I'd like to get started either way. Are they almost ready for us?"

Magnus turned and listened carefully to the door that separated them from the Conclave. "It sounds as if the talk is dying down; I'd smarten up if I were you."

Alec glanced down at himself. He was dressed in a formal coat Magnus had lent him, buttoned to hide the stain on his white shirt. He'd managed to convince Isabelle to wash his pants, and his boots gleamed in the witchlight. His eyes moved slowly to Isabelle, who hadn't bothered checking to make she was presentable; frankly, she didn't need to. Isabelle looked stunning no matter what she wore, and today was no exception. Jocelyn had found her a fitting red gown, and she brushed her hair until it gleamed. Isabelle certainly looked like a shadowhunter, her dark eyes contemplative and secretive, her face set in grim determination.

She's far more suited to this life than I, thought Alec painfully. She'll make a name for the Lightwood family.

"Have they stopped?" Isabelle asked suddenly, her fingers brushing over the skirt of her dress. "Can we go in?"

Magnus opened his mouth to answer, but the doors opened suddenly, air whooshing out of them. "I'd say yes," Magnus murmured.

Just like the time before, Isabelle and Alec were struck by the sheer size of the room, the emptiness and the darkness. As they padded into the room, the stone floor and its pattern gleamed in the faint light. Isabelle drew a little closer to her brother and they crossed to the center of the room together.

"Alexander and Isabelle Lightwood," said the Counsel, and his eyes sparkled in the pale, green glow. "You come before us, seeking Ascension."

Alec swallowed loudly. "We do."

"And are you certain this is your desire?" the Inquisitor asked suspiciously.

"More certain than anything," Isabelle answered swiftly. "We want to help our friends."

"Help your friends?" said the Inquisitor sharply. "How do you propose to help the Clave?"

"They are one in the same," Isabelle said, wishing she hadn't spoken. "To help the Clave will help Clary and Jace. We will work for the Clave to free our friends."

It looked as though the Inquisitor wanted to press the matter more, but Jocelyn stood then and cleared her throat. "We've been through this before, Inquisitor, and the Clave has already agreed to instate them. I hardly think their views have changed in the time since."

"We must be certain," said the Inquisitor, but Magnus's laugh cut him off.

"I don't think you can afford to be certain," he sniffed. "You need more soldiers, and they are willing to step forward and help."

"So be it," said the Counsel, shooting the Inquisitor a look. "The Iron Sisters have come to Mark you, and the Silent Brothers to swear your oaths."

Silent Brothers? Iron Sisters? Isabelle wondered, but there was the sound of fabric dragging across the floor and Isabelle turned toward the sound.

Approaching them across the hall were four shadowhunters, two women, two cloaked and hooded. The women carried long, sharp knives, like the ones all shadowhunters carried, but glowing with a fierce light, the cloaked figures, though, carried nothing and spoke to no one.

Isabelle turned to Alec, looking confused and his eyes found Magnus across the hall. "What are they-"

We are here to search your mind and heart, to know that you are ready to take up the mantle of shadowhunter, and to seek your intentions, as they may be.

Alec and Isabelle both jerked back as if they'd been tugged by an invisible force. "To search our minds?" asked Alec aloud.

One the cloaked figures raised a hand in greeting. We are the Silent Brothers, the keepers of the Clave's past, the guardians of its future. Before you may enter out ranks, we must know who you are.

It's in our heads, Alec realized, for the voices had sounded so loud.

Indeed, answered one of the Brothers. You must open the door to your minds. State your name.

Isabelle and Alec exchanged dubious looks. "I'll go first," Alec said. "If something happens to me, run."

"Alec-"

But Alec had already turned to face the hooded Brothers. I am Alexander Lightwood, firstborn son of Robert and Maryse Lightwood. I am the brother of Isabelle and Maxwell Lightwood. I was born in-

Alec's thoughts were lost in a sudden whirl of colors and sounds. He felt as if he were falling, falling, falling into a tunnel of memories…his memories. Images flashed past, days he'd long forgotten, nights he'd lost to dreams. Alec saw a child version of himself sitting at a scrubbed wooden stable, shelling peas, standing in a field watching sheep graze, milking a cow. He saw Isabelle as a little girl, chasing him around and around the old pine tree that grew behind their house, saw himself holding little baby Max.

But there was more. He was older now, old enough to hunt. His father was with him and they were out in the woods. He watched while his father heft high a bow and string it with an arrow. He saw the light glint off the tip, saw the string taught, saw the tension is every line of his father's body and he knew that this was his life. The arrow was released with a snap, it flew through the air, straight and true. Straight and true…

He was a young man now, hunting on his own, going to market with his father to sell their wares, thinking nervously of the time when he would have to leave their home. Alec didn't want to leave the farm or the country; he liked the small rivers, the sloping meadows, the way the leaves turned red and gold at the season's turn. This place was his home, this small spit of dirt and grass was all he'd ever need.

But it was gone. There were the horrible cries, the screams, the sounds of terror. All around him was fire and chaos. His mother was crying at him to take Isabelle and Max and run, she was watching out the window of their house frantically for their father. Alec saw a mounted soldier shoot by, then another, and another, and he wondered why they had come. What did they want? He scooped up Max, and he took Isabelle's hand and he fled into the darkness, into the madness, into the flames, and he turned, and the farmhouse was alight, throwing sparks up into the night like falling stars.

Alec was running, dragging Isabelle along behind him, and Max was wailing, and the screams and the terror seemed to stalk them like a pack of wolves. Somehow, he knew that he'd never see his parents again. His mother was trapped in the house as the flames ate it, and his father never did come home. Somehow, that pain and that loss was consumed by the fire too, and he'd managed to keep going. But now it came back, sharp as any dagger, thrust into his heart.

In the hall, Isabelle saw Alec double up in agony.

But Alec was still there, trapped in that night. He was leading Isabelle and Max as fast as he could from the town, into the woods, into the safety the trees offered. Behind them, the sounds women crying, men roaring, and fire snapping filled the air, chased them on. Alec led them faster, desperate the flee, and they broke the cover of the forest at the bank of a river.

The river was too deep, too wide, impossible to cross. Alec could feel Max sobbing and he saw his sister standing in the moonlight looking lost and small, and he knew it had been his duty to protect them. And he had failed.

The sounds of hooves, shouted orders, broke their silence and Alec frantically sought a place to hide. There was none, though, and when three mounted soldiers left the forest, they found the Lightwood children quite unprotected and helpless. One looked at Isabelle hungrily, and Alec put himself between the two. He expected to die then, he thought that this was surely it, but it wasn't. He and his siblings were bound in rope and brought back.

Alec saw country flash before his eyes, saw villages and towns, saw the sky line the palace cut against the setting sun. He was brought to the palace and all those memories of fields and countries were replaced with the cold, hard stone walls of the palace; he knew only the slow, degrading life of a servant, and it was misery.

Isabelle, who was still standing alone before the Clave watched as Alec fell to his knees, and she gave a startled cry and tried to hold him. "Alec…" she whispered. "Alec, I'm here." But he heard nothing.

The days of Alec's memory were dark, fraught with countless moments of fear and humiliation. There was nothing for him here in this hell but his sister and brother. It wasn't until Jace came along that he saw any glimmer of hope, and with Jace came his introduction to the Royal Physician.

Magnus, Alec thought, and some of pain he was feeling faded.

A burst of images rushed back: Magnus healing his arm, speaking softly, considering their escape, leading him to Alicante, the nights they'd spent in the library, working together, the strange, reassuring warmth he'd felt in the pit of his stomach whenever Magnus was nearby.

Stop this, Alec wanted to scream, his thoughts of Magnus spurring him on. Stop it, now!

It was as if that one order was heard through the two Brothers, and a fissure ran through them. Suddenly, Alec was back in his body, and he heard Isabelle beside him, whispering his name. Beneath him, the cold floor was pushing back his confusion and he welcomed the sharpness of it.

"Isabelle," he croaked softly. "Are you alright?"

"Am I alright?" she laughed softly. "Are you?"

Alec's eyes darted to Magnus, who was watching him, worry in his gaze. Magnus. "I will be." It didn't matter now to Alec if the Silent Brothers knew he loved Magnus, and it didn't matter if they wouldn't accept him as a shadowhunter, he knew what he wanted. His gaze moved back to the two Silent Brothers. "Are you happy?"

There was a long silence, then, You are found to be true of heart of mind, Alexander Lightwood. You may join our ranks.

Using Isabelle to help support him, Alec stood and viewed the two Brothers. "Then I thank you."

One of the Iron Sisters stepped forward, holding the knife in both her hands. "Your arm, Alexander Lightwood, to Mark." Alec held it out, his heart pounding all the same. She took his wrist in a grasp much stronger than he thought such a small woman could, and placed the tip of the knife to his skin. He felt a burn like a kiss. "You swear, Alexander Lightwood, to forever follow the Angel in his quest against Demon-kind? You will put yourself before the innocents to defend this world from the Dark?"

"I will," said Alec.

"Then it shall be," the Iron Sister answered, and pressed the tip of the knife into his skin, a permanent Mark, flaring to life.