One More Mountain

The moment Isabelle could, she left Jocelyn's house, heading straight for Simon. She didn't know why, she didn't know what it meant, she only knew that hearing Simon's calming voice, listening to him reason through their situation, watching him walk back and forth across the room, was exactly the sort of mind numbing comfort she needed. So, after Luke had returned from taking Jocelyn to bed, and they had agreed to leave Max there since he was already asleep, Isabelle had made her farewells and quickly left for the other side of town.

Her feet seemed to know the direction they were taking because all the way there, her mind was ringing with the news she'd just learned.

Jonathan made a pact with Lilith, the first demon. The most powerful demon ever is going to be helping him lead his armies against us. Isabelle shuddered as she walked. We can't stop her. She's too strong; she'll have an entire army of demons waiting for us.

Images flashed through Isabelle's mind's eye of all the people who would be affected by this war. She saw all the innocent families currently hiding in Alicante. The shadowhunters who would be slaughtered. The Downworlders who had pledged their allegiance to the cause. And still there were more…all the people living in Idris, completely unprotected from the hordes of demons. But would it stop there? What of all the lands in the entire world who would find themselves at the mercy of a demoness and her son? She saw the world as it might be in the future, a barren waste land where life and hope had shriveled away.

Stop thinking that way! There's still hope. There's still the chance we can win this fight. We have the Mortal Cup and…Clary and Jace are there now, fighting.

Because that was one thing Isabelle knew with certainty now. If they had just discovered who the demoness was, surely Jace and Clary had worked it out ages ago. They would already have some plan formed, ready to leap into action and stop Lilith and Jonathan.

Unless Jonathan really has done something horrible to them. He might have imprisoned them in his dungeons, or had them tortured, or-or he might even have-

Stop!

Isabelle gave herself a very firm order not to think about what Jonathan could be doing to Jace and Clary, and instead, focused on their current plan of action. They had to somehow alert the Clave as to what they had discovered, they had to gather an army far larger than they had thought, and she had to rescue Clary and Jace from Jonathan.

Before she really knew where she was, Isabelle found herself knocking on the door to Simon's house. At first no one answered, and Isabelle remembered that she had come over just after dawn; Simon would probably be in bed. After another loud knock, she heard the sound of tired, uncertain footsteps.

"I-Isabelle?" Simon asked as he stifled a yawn.

"We need to talk at once," she said, pushing her way into the house and closing the door with a snap behind her.

"It's four-thirty in the morning," Simon pointed out, trailing her with a dour look.

"You're a vampire," she said with an eye roll. "Isn't this your time of day?"

"Not living underground it's not," Simon muttered, but he saw the tension on Isabelle's back and the shadows under her eyes and knew something important had happened. "What's going on?"

"You don't have any guests, do you?" Isabelle said as she entered his drawing room and hurried to stoke the embers to life. "Not that it matters if Maia is here, I'm sure Luke will be telling the pack first thing…"

"No, I'm alone." Simon watched Isabelle's jerky movements. "Is something wrong? Is it Clary? Is there news?"

Isabelle's hand slipped on the fire poker. "No, nothing about them, but…well, it might concern them."

"Then what?" When Isabelle didn't respond Simon went to her and stood her up before him. Her face was tight with grief and she seemed fragile in his arms. "Isabelle, speak to me."

"Magnus, Alec, and I summoned a demon-"

"What? By the Angel, what possessed him to do that?"

"Simon! We summoned the demon so we could question it about Jonathan and the demoness Valentine summoned. We thought that if it was very powerful, surely other demons would know it."

"Did they?" Simon asked softly.

"It did," Isabelle whispered, and she turned away, looking sick. "Simon…it's awful. I don't know what we're going to do. We can't fight this war as we are now. He's too powerful."

"Why?" Isabelle swayed suddenly, and Simon noticed just how weary she looked. He helped her to the nearest seat and knelt down by her feet, looking up at her. "What is it?"

"Her name is Lilith…do you know who that is?" Isabelle watched Simon's eyes cloud over with thought. He has lovely eyes, big, deep brown pools. Like a deer's, thought Isabelle, thinking of anything but what she had heard. I never really looked at his eyes.

"I've heard the name mentioned, read it a few times," Simon murmured. "She's a demon, right? An important one?"

"She the important one," Isabelle sighed. "She was the first demon. Valentine convinced her to give him blood so she could have Jonathan, and now Jonathan has her behind him, summoning her demons and-"

"Give her Jonathan? What do you mean?" Simon raised his eyebrows. "Was she in love with him?"

"No." Isabelle tried to recall what Magnus had said. "I don't really understand…Lilith can't have children, I guess, so Valentine offered her his son for her blood."

"She must really have been desperate if she settled for that," Simon muttered, thinking of the young man he had met a few times.

"He wasn't always that way," Isabelle said as an afterthought.

"I hope Clary doesn't hear that," Simon said darkly. "If she thinks there's a chance of saving him she'll jump at it."

"You should have heard Jocelyn," snorted Isabelle. "She was making oaths to every angel she knew, saying she was going to get Lilith back. It sounds like madness."

"What does Magnus say?" But when Isabelle just sniffled, Simon shook his head. "Why don't we stop this talk, it's fouling up my house. I'll make you some tea."

Isabelle's eyes darted up. "No, you need to know."

"For what?" Simon laughed. "I'm not in the Clave and I'm not important to the local vampire coven. As players go, I'm a pawn. Now let me make you some tea; you look dead on your feet."

Isabelle glanced down at her well worn boots. "I could use some, I think."

"There's a good girl," Simon said kindly, and brushed her cold cheek with a kiss before going to the kitchen and making a pot of tea with honey. By the time he got back, Isabelle was reclining back in her seat, staring up at the ceiling, a faraway look on her face. "Tea's ready."

"Lovely," said Isabelle, not looking at him.

Simon crossed to her and held out a mug, but Isabelle stared at it. "You look exhausted, Isabelle. Drink the tea and go to bed." When she didn't take it, Simon sighed and sat down before her. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," she whispered. "I keep thinking about Clary and Jace. If they're with Jonathan, then they're in danger of Lilith. What if she tells Jonathan to hurt them? What if-"

"Isabelle, I could write a book on all the things in my life had started with those two words. What if I had never gone to court? What if I had told Clary how I felt about her before? What if I had never been bitten? What if I had never met you?" Simon ran a hand through his hair. "The thing about asking 'what if,' is that you forget to ask the important things. What can I do? What are our options? How can I make this better? You can't spend all your time worrying about something you could have done, not when there's so much to do already."

Slowly, like the truth was dawning on her for the first time, Isabelle smiled sadly. She reached out, plucked the mug of tea from Simon's hand, and took his freed hand with her own. "I always knew there was some reason I liked you, Simon Lewis."

"Aside from my charm and good looks?" he asked.

Isabelle pulled him forward and pressed her lips against his. For a moment, as before, he hesitated, and she knew he was afraid of hurting her, but she didn't release her hold on his hand, and Simon eventually relaxed. She placed the mug of tea down precariously on the arm of her chair and used her free hand to tangle her fingers up in Simon's hair. He growled, and not the human sort of growl, but a wild, animalistic growl.

He is a vampire, after all, Isabelle reminded herself as an afterthought. But quickly pushed that thought from her mind when he stood up, still kissing her, and leaned over the chair. She had the sensation of a very large man towering over her, but Simon's hands were surprisingly gentle and his lips soft. It must take all his control and then some not to bite me.

"Simon, if you're-" Isabelle words were cut off by the sounds of breaking glass. She jumped and Simon made an impatient noise. Simon had, in his haste to reach Isabelle, knocked the mug to the ground.

"What a mess," he said conversationally, not moving from his position by Isabelle. "We certainly can't continue here."

"I suppose we'll just have to move then, won't we?" Isabelle asked playfully. "I trust there's another vacant room in this house we can use."

Simon smiled sidelong at the entrance to the stairs. "Might be one open."

"Lead the way," Isabelle purred.

The realization of what they were now facing had fallen on Clary and Jace like a weight. After wrenching the truth out of Aline, she had slumped uselessly before them, but they hadn't blamed her. The fact that Lilith, the Mother of all of demons, was now their sworn, very real enemy, was like taking a step and finding before you nothing but air. It seemed like the world had been playing some great game on them, like it was leading them to victory, but all along, waiting for the moment to spring. There was no coming back from this.

Jace had finally managed to usher Aline away and back to her bed, promising her she had done well, that both he and Clary were very proud of her, and that they wouldn't tell a soul of what she had said. He'd seen her off then rejoined a disheartened Clary.

"Clary, we need…"

"There's no point, Jace," Clary said after a beat. "There really isn't. What are we supposed to do? This is the most powerful demon in the entire world. She has infinite armies are her disposal, she has-"

"Well, what you have then?" Jace said sharply, and for the first time, he felt frustrated with Clary. "Should we just sit here waiting for Lilith to take over? Let her kill our families? Destroy our world?"

Clary felt her mouth open slightly before she said, trembling slightly, "Jonathan offered to protect our family and friends."

Jace snorted. "You really think he would? Clary, the moment he finds out your mother is alive, he's going to kill her. Or, if not him, Lilith. Think about it."

"I don't-"

"Lilith was cursed with bareness; she can't have children. Ever. However she got him, Lilith isn't going to give up your brother; you saw what she did to you when you said you were going to get Jonathan back. She won't let Jocelyn live." Jace ran a hand through his hair. "And the Lightwoods? I don't think Jonathan is going to let a few humans live when he has demons to feed."

"We could make him swear an oath," Clary said at once.

"Clary," Jace said slowly and loudly. "Jonathan is not going to go through with it. He just wants to toy with us, give you hope so he can snatch it back. This is all a game to him."

"Well, what can we do, Jace?" she practically snarled. "This is much more than some greater demon; it's the first demon! There isn't a shadowhunter alive who could stop her, and there isn't an army vast enough to defeat hers."

"You don't know that," Jace said at once. "You don't know the Clave hasn't already started building its army. They have the Mortal Cup, anyway."

"They will go to their doom, then," Clary said tonelessly.

"Clary." Jace took her chin in his hand and forced her to look up into his yellow eyes. She looked so tired and so empty; it had been a hard couple of days. "You swore on the Angel that you would do whatever it takes to get Jonathan back. You can't go back now."

"I want to help, but how can I?" Clary asked listlessly.

"Well, Jonathan might be the only person out there with demon blood," Jace began encouragingly, "but he's not the only one in the world with extra powers. If he was telling the truth, you and I both have extra angel blood, and that makes us just as unique and powerful as him. You-you can make runes at will! Who knows what you could do to stop Lilith. You could make a rune to free Jonathan, or one that could drain her of her powers, or-"

"Jace, she's the Mother of all demons. She's more than just a demon, more than even a greater demon. And you and I aren't angels." Clary gazed down at her fingers. She had never felt so completely, utterly hopeless in all her life, not even when she had been in Jonathan's power. It was as if someone had told her to empty an ocean or bring down a mountain.

"You can't lose hope, Clary," Jace whispered, resting his forehead against hers. "You and I, we have a part to play in this, I'm sure. Who else is there to stop Jonathan's darkness? Who else has the right? You and I are the children of angels and he is the child of demons; we were all meant to be here, the three of us."

Clary's lips trembled. "I don't know if I have it in me."

"You'll have to test yourself then, won't you?" Jace smiled wanly at her. "You've already challenged Lilith once, and you survived unscathed. If anything, you proved just as unexpected and unpredictable as Jonathan; you made a ring of runes even she couldn't break, and that is nothing to shake a stick at."

"She's so much more powerful than us…" Clary murmured, but Jace could see that glint of light in her eyes again.

"We've nothing to lose," Jace reasoned. "If we fight her and lose, Jonathan will either kill us or bring us back here, either way, our friends and family die. If we fight her and win, well…I think you know what happens then."

Clary glanced away, toward the vanishing moon and worried her lip. You swore an oath to the Angel that you would save your brother or die trying. Did you really expect it to be so easy?

Yes, said a bitter voice in her head, but she pushed it away.

Nothing worth having is ever easy, but some things are worth the struggle. Yes, that was true. It had always been that way when she was growing up, and when she had met Jace, it had been just the same. Her life, it seemed, had always come down to triumphing over struggle, but she knew she wouldn't be half the shadowhunter she was if she hadn't fought tooth and nail to get there. This is just one more mountain to climb.

"You're right," Clary finally said, flashing him an unsure smile. "You're always right. You always could bring out the best in me."

"I must be good for something," Jace teased gently.

"So, what should we do?" Clary asked, suddenly businesslike. She straightened her back a little and lifted her chin. "Do we stick to the same plan as before? Do we try and stop Lilith by proving to Jonathan we care for him?"

Jace looked thoughtful. "I think that might be our end goal, but now that Jonathan is going to start gathering his armies, it might prove more useful for us to spy on them. We could gather information on his forces and his war tactics. That way, when the Clave does attack and we escape, we have all the information they'll need."

"So, we'll have to tell Jonathan we've agreed to his little offer?" Clary scrunched her nose. "I don't enjoy the idea of that, I'll tell you. You know he'll just want to shove our faces in it."

"It'll be worth it," Jace promised. "Also, though I'm not certain I like it too much, being around Jonathan does give us the opportunity to try and coerce Lilith away from him. He's fond enough of you already, when you're not in a temper, and he seems to like me sometimes. If we show him friendship or concern, we might be able to loosen the hold Lilith has on him. Though, as we saw before, too much friendship is a bad thing."

Clary flinched when she recalled the fury Jonathan rained down on her and Jace after she'd told him she didn't love him. "It has to be real then." Jace raised his eyebrows at her. "He'll know we're lying is we suddenly jump ship and join him, but if we make it look like we're disgusted by his plans, but still determined to help him, he might believe it."

Jace laughed darkly. "Well, it's not that hard to be disgusted."

"Can you forgive him?" Clary pressed.

"Can you?" returned Jace sharply. "After everything he's done to you, can you forgive him?"

He was awful to me, he hurt me, he made my life miserable, but I turned on him when he needed me most. I abandoned him to Lilith and her darkness. Maybe if I had tried to help him he wouldn't be this way. Clary thought back to the night her mother revealed the truth about Valentine and Jonathan. I can't forget what he did, I wouldn't want to anyway…but maybe I can forgive him.

Clary kissed Jace's lips briefly. "Have you ever burned yourself? There's always that horrible pain at first, like a constant sting, and you want to cry and put water on it, and you're angry with yourself for being so foolish with fire, but it still won't go. Then, after a bit, the stinging stops but every now and then, when you move it just so or touch it in just the wrong way, it flares up again, like a reminder. And then, after days and months and even years, you have a scar. The scar doesn't hurt, but it's still there, a memory of your pain and foolishness, but a good memory too. You don't burn yourself after the first time, you're wiser, more careful, and even though it came at a price, you've learned from it." Jace was watching her more closely now. "That's how it is for me and Jonathan. There's no forgetting what he did, the memory of the pain will linger with me, but I can be better than I was before."

"You don't need to be better," Jace murmured. "Jonathan does."

"Jonathan will have his own scars before this is over," said Clary sadly. "There will be marks on his soul I don't think will go away, and there will be sorrow more than any other person can bear."

"We can help him," Jace said after a silent moment where Clary looked miserable.

"I don't have the slightest clue what he'll need when this is said and done." Clary took a deep breath, feeling the pulse of her own blood, and then, distantly, the beat of Jace's heart. It was a constant comfort, a reminder that she wasn't alone, that she was loved, that no matter what happened and no matter what she did, someone would always forgive her.

He'll always forgive me…Clary thought vaguely. He'll love me forever and always forgive me.

"Then that's our plan," said Jace, drawing Clary from her thoughts. "Tomorrow, when Jonathan comes for us, we can tell him we're interested in his offer. We'll tell him to spare the Lightwoods and Magnus and Luke and Maia, and see if he doesn't believe us."

"Not my mother?" Clary wondered.

Jace smirked. "Don't get me wrong, but Jonathan doesn't seem like the type of person who enjoys surprises. Given how he reacted to the Mortal Cup being missing, do you think it's best we keep Jocelyn's continued existence quiet?"

"Yes," said Clary after a moment. "I'm sure if that filthy demoness Lilith found out she was still alive, she'd want to kill Jocelyn too."

Jace was intrigued for a moment. "I'm sure she'll be sick with herself when she finds out Jocelyn is alive," he said bracingly.

"I hope she'll be dead by that time," said Clary with cold clarity. "And if she's not…well, I won't let her take another family member from me."

Forgiveness seems to come in all forms this evening, thought Jace, amused. "What do you think Jocelyn is planning? I mean, I know the Clave has their war councils, but Jocelyn and Luke seemed to have their own thoughts on the matter."

Clary shrugged. "I think my mother will do what she always has: march proudly into whatever battle she's facing. I'm sure she'll have a good plan, I'm sure she'll have weapons and an army, but I don't know if they'll be enough for this."

"I get the feeling that it won't be an army that stops Lilith," said Jace uncomfortably. "Which is unfortunate, since I do love a good battle."

Clary shot him a look. "You said it yourself, you and I are meant for other things. We've our own battle to fight, and it's right here." She gestured around vaguely and Jace drew her against his side.

"You're tired, little one. Take some sleep while I keep watch," he said, running his hands through her hair. "I'll wake you when Jonathan arrives."

"But you should sleep-"

"Unfortunately," Jace said, "I'm the only holding you, so it's quite impossible to find a good place to lay one's head. I guess you'll simply have to sleep."

"Sound reasoning. I knew there was a reason my father made you a duke," she said wryly, and leaned her head back so it was resting on Jace's breast. "But you must wake me when Jonathan comes. He'll want to hear from both of us."

"I won't let you miss any action, don't worry," Jace hummed. "Now, sleep, we'll have a big day tomorrow."

As Clary dozed off, Jace settled down to think over Jonathan and Lilith. It was certainly worse than he'd been thinking, and Clary was right in some respects, they didn't have much hope of stopping her on their own. Still, he and Clary had come this far and survived, so who was to say they couldn't go one more step? He shifted, positioning Clary more comfortably and found himself wondering what would have happened if he had just taken Clary and run away. They didn't have to come to Idris, as he recalled; they could have turned tail and fled when the shadowhunters marched off to war that night.

No, instead, we walked right into the beast with our heads high and our hopes in the sky. We were fools, he thought ruefully. And me worst of all. I should have told Clary no when she suggested sneaking back into the palace. I should have taken her away then.

But, somehow, Jace had the feeling that running wasn't going to save Clary from her brother.

Tighter he gripped the small woman in his arms, and then arched his neck so he could look up through the window and watch the sky turn slowly inky blue, then purple, then red…Jonathan would be coming soon…he would have to wake Clary…

"Clary, I'm sorry," he said, kissing her awake. Her eyes fluttered open and, with a slightly dazed look in them, blinked slowly. Jace chuckled and gave her arm a small pinch. "Jonathan will be here soon and we need to be ready to accept his offer."

"Has the sun really risen?" she asked. "I can never tell, it's always so dark here."

"Brighter at night I think," Jace said. "Aline had it right: the starlight still shows here."

Jace stretched and helped Clary to her feet, where she swayed a little and then leaned against the windowsill. They didn't have to wait long for Jonathan to return to them. When he saw them both standing at attention his pace slowed and he considered them. His dark eyes swept over Jace then came to Clary, resting for a moment on her throbbing throat.

"At ease, my friends," he said affably, making a ridiculous bow that neither Clary nor Jace returned. "So, what have you two risen at the crack of dawn to tell me?"

"I hate what you've become, Jonathan," Clary began before Jace could think. He shot her an incredulous look, but Clary didn't glance his way, just kept her eyes on Jonathan.

"Well, that's always refreshing to hear, my dear. Here, I thought you might have come to like me after all our years." His smile was sardonic.

"I hate what you've become, Jonathan, but not who you were," she amended and his gaze flickered uncertainly. "You're still my brother, no matter what you might think; you're still my blood."

"And?" he asked testily, as if the idea of Clary loving him was unpleasant.

"I can't agree with what you've done, what you're planning on doing, but I don't think my hiding in the shadows is going to change anything." She tossed her hair back. "I've spoken with Jace and we've both agreed to your terms." This was clearly not what Jonathan was expecting, because he raised his eyebrows in surprise and his mouth opened to form words, but Clary cut him off. "Do not think we have joined the Dark, but I do not think I would serve the Light if I simply sat and watched your burn this world down."

"There's nothing you can do to stop me," Jonathan said blankly. "You know that, don't you?"

"I will try all the same," Clary said dauntlessly. "If I must, I will spend the rest of my life convincing you this is wrong. If you think you can handle my constant pleas for sanity, then take me on."

"And you, Jace?" Jonathan asked like a whip. "Do you agree with all this? I got the feeling you really were quite distressed by my plans."

Jace knew it was a trick to get a rise from him, make him say something incriminating to Clary, but he shrugged and offered a bland smile. "I'm wise enough now to know when to trust Clary. She says we should join you, and so I follow her lead."

Jonathan frowned. "Well, I'm not telling you my battle plans," he said defensively.

"Why would you?" Clary asked simply. "We are, after all, on the side of Light, we've simply found ourselves in the Dark."

Jonathan prowled forward, as if determined to sniff out a lie, but Clary's face remained set and Jace continued his careless posture. He stood before them, staring from face to face hungrily. "If I find you're lying to me-"

"Now how could we lie to you?" Jace asked loudly. "You know we hate you, you know we work for the destruction of demon kind. What more could we possibly be hiding?"

Jonathan snorted. "As you'll have it. So, who will it be? Which pathetic little mortals do you want spared?" When Clary opened her mouth, Jonathan held out a hand and rummaged around a nearby desk for parchment and a quill. "Names?"

Clary and Jace shared a glance. "Alec, Isabelle, and Max Lightwood," said Jace after a moment. "Magnus Bane, Simon Lewis, Maia, Luke and-"

"Luke's lover," said Clary quickly before Jace said any more. Jonathan's dark eyes darted to her.

"The werewolf has a lover?" he asked, his voice dripping disgust.

"Seems like it," Clary said, doing her best not to look nervous. "I met her a few times while I was in the city."

Jonathan sniffed. "You know her name?"

"No," Clary lied smoothly.

"Fine." Jonathan heaved a long-suffering sigh, wrote the name with a flourish and held up the paper for their examination. "There you have it, all your friends, alive and unharmed come my victory over this miserable little world."

"Then I suppose everything is in order," Clary said, her mouth suddenly very dry. She felt as if she were entering into a pact with the devil himself not her brother.

Jonathan folded the paper up and tucked it in the front pocket of his doublet. "Very good. I suppose if you two want to clean yourselves up and then come with me, we can begin."

"Begin what?" Jace asked suspiciously.

"Recruiting," Jonathan answered with a sickly sweet smile.