Hey everyone. Sorry this came out late, I guess I'm a bit behind with the school transition, but I'm excited to say that this fiction is almost to the end!

The War Begins

Clary was looking out over a strange land, one she didn't know, and felt a small tingle in her back, between her shoulders blades. The sky was pitch black, but for the moon and the stars, shining down, and the ground was painted in their silvery light. There were trees as far as she could see, tall, reaching trees, and their branches obscured the ground; beyond the forest she saw distant mountains, and beyond that, a soft, butter yellow glow. She strained her eyes but the mountains remained unknown to her, and still her back tingled. Carefully, she crept closer to the edge of her precipice, looking down on the fall; it was a long way down and ended with jagged, craggy stones.

She didn't want to go, but from far away, carried on the wind, Clary heard a voice calling her name. Her head snapped up and her eyes swept across the forest edge, but there was no one. She bit her lip and the tingle in her back turned to burning itch. She spun on the spot, trying to scratch between her shoulders when the voice on the wind called her names again.

"Clary…"

"Hello!" Clary called, searching the ground beneath her. "Are you there? She was greeted by silence and Clary felt a bit of panic rise in her. She was all alone. There was no one else here but the trees and the moon and the stars. "Hello!"

"…Clary…"

This time the wind caught her face and Clary knew it was carrying her name. She turned into the wind and found it was coming from the direction of the far away mountains. She moved a little closer to the edge of the cliff she was on. The faint glow beyond the mountain was becoming more and more bright, turning from yellow to orange to bright, painful red.

"Clary…Clary…"

"I'm here!" Clary cried back, waving at herself. "Who are you?"

"Clary." The voice was becoming more insistent, more demanding. "Clary. Clary. Clary!"

"What do you want?" Clary cried, jumping up, and the wind caught her then.

It was like being tossed by a strong hand, and Clary found herself being thrown from the edge she was on, plummeting down to the rocks below. She screamed, but the voice on the wind was still calling her name and it drown out her voice. She saw the rocks coming up toward her like hungry jaws and she knew she was about to meet her end.

"Clary!"

"Stop!" Clary cried desperately, and then the wind that was dragging her down vanished. For a moment, she hung in the air like a spider suspended on its web, and then her feet swung down and felt herself float gracefully onto the rocks below. She touched one rock, then the next, shaking with fear of her near death.

"Clary…" the voice called, swirling around her, lifting her hair off the nap of her neck. "…you have fallen…"

"I could have died," Clary said back, annoyed.

"Yes…yes," the voice agreed tiredly. "But you have fallen."

"Go! Go away!" Clary snarled, waving her hands in the air like a windmill, and the air around her seemed to settle down and fall still.

Clary looked up at the precipice from whence she had come, but it was far too high above her now; there was no one way she could ever rise back up. She noticed, too, that the glow from beyond the mountains was gone; she had been plunged into the dark. Clary looked around her, at the forest, now imposing and towering before her, and at the way the starlight speckled the leaves silver and made shadows move gracefully.

"But this is beautiful," Clary said, looking at the stars winking down on her. She looked her arms stretched out before her, and her runes were stark black against her snowy skin. Clary thought she looked like a creature of light and shadow. "But this is wonderful."

"Yes," agreed a soft, musical voice. "Yes, it is beautiful here, but it is frightening here, too."

Clary turned to the voice, so different from the demanding voice of the wind, and it was coming from the forest. "Do you live here too?"

"I have always been here," said the voice. "I've been waiting for you for so long, waiting for you to leave the light."

Clary glanced up at the stars above her. "There is light here too."

There was a perceptible pause. "Perhaps, but it's harder to come by."

"Then come here," said Clary, and she held out her arms, showing the way the starlight played on her.

"No," said the voice sadly, as if it wanted to. "I belong in the dark."

"You choose the dark," said Clary firmly. "It's not about living in the dark or the light, it's about finding the light no matter where you are."

This seemed to intrigue the voice, and Clary heard a soft rustle as the leaves moved. "I'm lost. I've been lost for so long."

"Just follow my voice," Clary urged. "Follow me."

"I can't."

Clary felt the wind picking up again around her, whispering her name, but she spoke over it. "Just follow my voice. Just come to me." The wind was speaking over the other voice now. "Follow me. Follow me! Follow me…!"

"Clary! Clary, wake up!"

Clary struggled out of sleep, gasping for air like a diver under water too long. She felt the dull, grey light from the outside world strike her face and she blinked away the stars she was seeing. "Jace," she whispered.

"Yes, Clary, yes, I'm here." She felt hands touching her cheeks, warm hands, hands like fire. She pressed herself closer to the warmth, feeling like her insides were frozen. "Are you alright?"

"Jace," Clary murmured, "Jace I had a dream."

"A dream of what?" Jace wrapped and arm around Clary's waist and helped her to sit up. She leaned against him and he encircled her with his arms. "Are they nightmares like before?"

Clary pursed her lips in consideration. "Not…exactly. It wasn't terrifying, but it wasn't pleasant either. I was just confused and…" It was hard for Clary to explain the feeling of elation and sorrow that were even now mingling in her. "I saw something beautiful and it made me sad."

Jace was reminded or the first time he had seen Clary, really seen her. She had seemed so beautiful then, but she had seemed fragile too. It was like he was looking at a lovely girl with nothing in her. She had been empty, abandoned, desolate. That was the type of beauty that Clary spoke of, and Jace knew how it made a person feel.

"What was it?" he pressed gently.

"I looked down on a beautiful wood of silver and shadow," Clary said tonelessly, "stretching out under the moon and stars. In the distance was a range of mountains, and beyond that, a light. The light was growing, getting brighter and brighter, and it hurt, and there was a voice from the light, calling my name." Clary swallowed, trying to recall each bit of the dream. "Then the voice became so loud and the wind so strong I fell from the precipice, and I would have been smashed on the rocks, and still the wind wouldn't let me go, and I screamed and screamed, and finally, it stopped." She turned her big, green eyes on Jace and brushed hair back from her face. "I landed on the stones, completely unscathed, but the voice was angry and said I had fallen."

"And then you woke?"

"I wasn't falling," Clary said stubbornly, as if to convince Jace. "I wasn't, I was flying."

"You flew to the ground and what did you see?"

Clary considered it carefully. "There was no more light from the mountains, just the moonlight and starlight on the trees and on my arms. It was beautiful…and the voice, the voice was beautiful too."

"What did it say?" pressed Jace tenderly, running his hands through her hair again.

"It had been waiting for me," Clary said, barely moving her lips. "It was lost in the dark, and I tried to get it to follow, and then I woke up." She bit her lip. "I think I should have stayed."

Jace kissed her again, and Clary felt the heat Jace radiated spread up through her. She could feel him in every part of her, especially in her mind, where his voice was like a balm. "I'm glad you came back to me."

"I'd always come back for you," Clary said simply, and there was no guile in her voice. She meant it, she had always meant it. "But that voice was so sad and so lost."

"It was only a dream, Clary, nothing more." Jace was rocking her gently, trying to let the motion lull her into sleep, but already the sun was rising and the sky was resuming its grey pallor. "Perhaps Aline can bring us something to eat and some mulled wine, that would make you feel better."

"That voice…it was so desolate," Clary murmured, her thoughts returned to the sound of the voice.

Jace watched her thinking and moved carefully until he had rested Clary against the hearth. He walked as far as his chain would allow and peeked out into the sitting room. "Aline! Aline, are you there?"

There was silence, then, "No, no I'm afraid the little mouse isn't."

Clary's eyes snapped up and Jace frowned. "Of course, I rise every morning with the thought of you to brighten my day."

"So glad to be of service," laughed Jonathan, entering the room. Clary noted that he was dressed finely, as if he meant to spend a day with his court. He came into the room and bowed low, but when he came up, his smirk was in place. "You two look well, a little tired."

Clary shivered at his voice but rose shakily to her feet. "What are we doing today?"

"My servants have grown wearied by the physical world and require some form of reprieve. They will take their leave to hunt, which leaves just the three of us to spend the day together."

They're going to hunt? Jace thought, repulsed. "And what do you propose?"

"A day of rest and play," said Jonathan affably. "We shall have the great hall to ourselves. Just the three of us. So," he said, clapping his hands, "get yourselves dressed and ready. I'll send Aline in to fix you up."

Almost as soon as Jonathan had left, Aline entered, looking thoroughly relieved, and holding the keys to the chains before her. She fumbled as she tried to unlock them, and Jace took them from her hands easily and loosed his and Clary's chains. As soon as they were free, Aline hurried to get Clary behind a dressing screen and into a pleasant blue and silver gown and changed into something casual and comfortable and lounged around waiting.

"A winter goddess," Jace proclaimed the moment Clary came around the corner, glittering in silver and icy blue. "You would make angels fall, love."

For some reason, the memory of the dream came back and Clary couldn't bring herself to smile at it. "A goddess indeed," said Aline into the silence, bowing to both of them. "Try to enjoy yourselves. Jonathan seems in a good way today."

"Come with us," said Clary suddenly, beaming at Aline. "You'll be my lady's maid."

Aline fumbled into a bow. "I'm honored…"

"Don't be," laughed Jace, linking his arm in Clary's, "her last maid went completely mad. Ran off into the wild, they say."

Aline and Clary both giggled at the thought of Isabelle, and made their way down to the great hall where Jonathan was waiting. When they entered, they found a great feast laid out before them, Jonathan in his chair, his eyes running over a list of numbers. When he saw them enter, he rose very politely and tipped his head.

"Just as I promised, a day of ease. Come, let us eat." He gestured to the food before them, then glanced up at Aline. "You'll have to run and fetch a plate for yourself, but there's plenty to go round."

Aline looked surprised that Jonathan would address her so directly, and so kindly. "Y-yes, my lord."

Aline hurried off and Clary and Jace approached Jonathan. The sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls was strange, for the court was never empty, but they came up and Jace politely pulled out a chair and seated Clary in it before taking his own on her side. Jonathan began to serve them, large hunks of roasted chicken, boiled, buttered, potatoes, fresh salad, warm, red wine, and all the while, keeping up pleasant talk.

He is in a rare mood, thought Jace, listening to him recall some memory of his childhood. Clary smiled faintly, and he knew it must have been long before Jocelyn's departure and Valentine's crimes. When Aline arrived, he served her as well, making some joke about feeding his little mice, and then continuing on with his stories.

After they ate, Jonathan poured another glass of wine for them all and then looked around the room, bored. "We'll need to do something, now, we can't have started the day so well and let it end so poorly."

Clary sipped her wine, feeling warm and content. "Music!" she said with a quick smile between the four of them, as if they were conspirators. "Who can play for us?"

Jace smiled into his own glass. "Just the piano."

"No good," Clary pouted. "Jonathan, what did father have you learn?"

"I'm no musician," he said affably. "It was one art I never learned. But you, sister, you can play the lute."

"But I want to dance," Clary pointed out, her eyes landing on Aline who had been silent through their meal. "You, Aline, can you play at all?"

She looked horrified to speak before Jonathan, but Clary held her gaze and she whispered, "I know the lute, my lady, but no songs for the court. Just the country waltzes and two steps."

"That is exactly what I want," declared Clary, and she stood and rummaged around the room, looking for a stray lute. Jace watched her and noted how her steps seemed a bit uncertain, and he rocked back in his seat chuckled. Jonathan must have noticed too because their eyes met and he smiled into his drink. "Here it is!" Clary cried, waving the lute and grinning victoriously. "Aline, play for us, play for us."

Clary tossed her the lute and Aline caught it, wondering at the craftsmanship. "A simple song, my lady?"

"A good, strong beat." Clary offered her hand to Jace as more of a command. "Dance with me, Jace."

He raised one eyebrow. "Wife, it would give me no greater pleasure."

Aline began to play, as she had said, a simple song, but with a strong beat that Clary and Jace could follow easily. The dancing brought them close together, clasping hands tightly, and Jace lifted Clary at the waist; when he lifted her, Clary laughed wildly and tossed her arms in the air. Now, sitting on the steps to his throne, Jonathan tossed his head back and laughed at their display, taking another deep draw on his wine. Aline continued and Clary and Jace were spinning faster and faster, and Jonathan started to clap. At last, Jace scooped her up and twirled her around and Aline finished.

"I love to dance," Clary crowed, stumbling over to Jonathan and her glass of wine. She drained it and her face flushed more. "Father never let us dance like that. He made me waltz and dip and twirl, and it was so boring. Yes?" She looked to Jonathan who chuckled.

"I wouldn't know, Clary, for I didn't like to dance."

"Didn't like to dance?" Jace demanded, and he too was flushed with the dancing and the wine. "What's wrong with you, Jonathan? Dance, go on, leave me the wine, I'll finish it."

"Dance!" Clary proclaimed, and thrust her hand out to her brother.

"Clary-"

"Oh, go on," Jace urged, and then pushed Jonathan aside so he could take his seat and the wine.

Jonathan smiled very uncertainly and took Clary carefully into his arms. Clary turned her head to Aline with a dauntless smile. "Play!"

Before Jonathan could say another word, Aline started and Clary pulled Jonathan into a dance. They bounded around the great, empty hall, Clary laughing and crying out and Jonathan chuckling. Jace finished the last wine in the bottle and cheered as they danced.

As they twirled, Jonathan looked down on his sister's flushed face and glassy eyes, and knew she had had too much to drink. He knew he could lean down and whisper in her ear anything he wanted. He knew he could convince her of anything in this state, he knew she was very much in his power. So many avenues suddenly opened up to Jonathan, so many chances to have what he wanted. Thoughts swirled around his head, so many thoughts.

Tell her she's beautiful…

Tell her you love her…

…want her…

You'll have her…

…she'll do it, she's far too gone…

And, Jace…he won't know…

It seemed like such a good idea, and why shouldn't he? He was the king, he was the most powerful being in the world. He had summoned Lilith, his mother, and all her armies. He was the captain of the most powerful force in the world.

And he was so lonely.

So long you've been alone, so long it's been just you. But it doesn't have to be…you can have Clary and Jace. He'll understand, he'll be as your brother. Jonathan's eyes flicked over Clary's face, her red lips and glowing cheeks. This world can be made to your desires, all you must do it take them.

He bent down to whisper something in Clary's ear, but she beat him to it. "Jonathan," she gasped, at a loss for air, "I'm glad I found you, I was so worried…but it'll be better. Jace and I are here for you."

She loves him. Jonathan realized it with dread. She loves him and it's written on her skin. She'll never love you like that, not if you do this.

With the taste of ash in his mouth, Jonathan said, "I'm glad you came back."

Clary laughed and pulled away from him. "Jace, pour me more wine!"

In one movement, Jonathan let Clary go, and watched her wobble over to Jace, who took her in his arms and kissed her before opening another bottle of wine and filling her glass. She flopped down beside him and began drinking, Jonathan joining them and sitting silently.

Throughout all the afternoon they continued to drink and dance and play. Jonathan never danced with Clary again, but instead watched Jace and Clary dance, wondering at the bond that had formed between them. No one had loved him like Clary loved Jace, and he was confused by it, trying to figure it out. It was totally consuming, and yet, at the same time, liberating. It was as if the two of them were slaves to the other, but in that servitude was their freedom.

Jonathan frowned. Their freedom in each other.

"Come, it's been too long!" Jonathan finally cried as he saw the sun glimmer above the trees. "It's time for dinner."

They ate dinner, and this time, drank water instead of wine. It was just the food left over from their lunch, but it tasted just as good, and after a time, Clary grew bored again. She asked for Aline to sing, which the girl could do with some skill, and the three of them picked over their meal, sipping water, and speaking to each other as the sun began to sink. They had just sat back to sit and talk when a snarl echoed down the hall and through the door.

Clary and Jace, trained as ever, jumped to their feet for a fight, and Aline dropped the lute and yelped. It was Jonathan who rose up, looking calm and collected as his servant, a demon inhabiting a young lord, rushed in. "We're under attack!"

"Attack?" Jonathan asked sharply. "What do you mean we're under attack? From who?"

"They came from the woods, charging into the city," the demon panted, and Clary felt her heart beating faster.

"Who?" Jonathan demanded.

"The shadowhunters," said Clary without doubt. Jonathan whipped about to face her and Jace moved to stand in the way of his wrath. It seemed that all the fun that day had been broken and Jonathan the Demon King had returned. "Who else could it be? They must have decided to march earlier."

Jonathan snarled viciously. "Angel get," he spat, rounding on the demon. "Get yourselves ready for battle, rouse the humans in the city. We must defend ourselves."

"Yes, my lord," said the demon and hurried off.

Jonathan was standing very still, the lines of his back tense, and very slowly, he rotated on the spot. His eyes were dark and bright, gleaming furiously, and a strange smile was plastered on his face. He came toward Clary and Jace, and Jace tugged her behind him though she tried to stay and face him. Jace wasn't about to let Clary face her brother's wrath alone.

"So, your little Angel brats are coming to the rescue, are they?" He narrowed his eyes. "And did you know they were coming?"

"Jonathan, no!" said Clary loudly.

"Liar!" Jonathan snarled and came at them with his fist raised to strike. "You're lying to me! You called them to you, didn't you? You want me dead!"

"Please, listen to me, Jonathan!" Clary screamed as Jace dodged a blow. "We didn't call them, you know we didn't. How could we have? We've been in your rooms for weeks."

"You want me dead!" Jonathan howled and he swiped again, but Jace caught his arm this time and held him fast.

"It wasn't us!" Jace snapped. "And it doesn't matter! If the Clave is coming for you, you don't have time to argue with us. You need to prepare for battle."

Jonathan's dark gaze grew darker still, but he tempered himself and lowered his fist. He glowered at them, stalking back and forth and watching them closely. He seemed to be considering much worse, but after a few moments of thought, he stopped and smirked at them.

"You're right, of course, Jace, though you must understand why I am not too keen to listen to your advice. The three of us will go now, to the armory, and get ready for battle." He saw the looks on their faces. "You two are fighting on my side. We made an agreement and you are going to help me if you want to see your friends and family alive again."

Clary looked quickly to Jace. "Maybe it would be better suited to have Jace and I in your room? Our friends will come for us, that way we'll all be in one area; it'll be easy for you to have all of us in one place."

Jonathan laughed. "I don't think so, little sister. You're coming with me now, and you will join me in battle when the time comes." He took off, and, unable to refuse, Clary and Jace followed. He took them swiftly down through the castle, down to the armory, where he began pulling weapons free from the holdings. He armed himself with a sword, daggers, even a bow and arrows. He smirked when Clary looked horrified.

"If this shall be the end, then let it be their end," Jonathan said softly, handling the flat edge of the sword. "Though I have no desire to arm either of you, you're both to take one stele and one dagger. I doubt the Clave will send their soldiers to attack you."

Jace took the offered stele and dagger, enjoying the feeling of a weapon in his hand again. "Are we staying with you?"

He winked at Clary. "Well, I figure that if the Clave isn't willing to kill you two, I will keep you two with me at all times, and so the Clave won't be willing to kill me. Think of it as my…back-up plan." He seemed very smug as he turned once more to go. "We need to find the Priestesses of the Goddess."

The sounds from the city were like hell. All around were the cries of terror when a monster arrives in the night. Women were screeching, pleading with the darkness, begging for mercy from nothing. The high peals of children's cries shattered the night. Men bellowing orders frantically could be heard as they rushed back and forth with weapons ready. But there was more. Above it all, was the roar of the fire; it had started small, a lantern dropped here, a candle upset there, a fire in the hearth unwatched, but it had spread and was consuming house after house, casting wild shadows on the road. In the shadows, though, was something else, something lurking and searching, a snarling, spitting something.

"Jonathan's released his demons!" Magnus cried to Alec, dodging a stray arrow with ease and then shooting a ball of flame at the blob of something black. The black thing howled in pain, whipping the tentacles on its body back and forth, before it crumbled and vanished.

"But these are just lesser demons," Alec said, spinning away from a man with an axe, deflecting his blow, and then hitting him in the back of the head with the hilt of his sword. "Where are the demons possessing the humans?"

"They must be closer to the castle, he'll want them to guard him." Magnus nodded down the road and they took off together. "They're the strong ones, the dangerous ones, and it will be most difficult to stop them because they're in human bodies. We can't hurt the humans." At that moment, an older man charged Magnus down, but he flicked his wrist and sent the man hurtling backward. "Jonathan was smart to use the people as soldiers; he knows we don't want to hurt them."

"We'll meet more of them in the castle?" Alec panted, running to keep up. "What are we supposed to do?"

Magnus laughed madly. "We'll have to do our best. We might as well warn Jocelyn, though, she's on the warpath."

"Luke is with her," said Alec reasonably. "He'll stop her from doing anything too wrong." Alec ran, thinking carefully. Jocelyn won't be the only one of the warpath… "Simon!"

Magnus skidded to a halt and caught him sharply. "What about Simon?"

"Don't you remember? Simon said that his father was a lord at court and that he had been turned by Jonathan. What if Simon finds him…?"

Magnus's eyes widened just a little. "Your sister is with him, isn't she?"

"Isabelle? Yes, of course." The thought of Isabelle in the middle of this fray was almost too much for him to bear. "We need to find them, I promised I would find her!"

Magnus paused a moment, thinking. "Isabelle will stop Simon from doing anything too crazy, but we need to find them. I might be able to free Simon's father from the demon with the right spell, but Simon might just as soon kill him if he thinks there's no other way."

"Where are they?" Alec said frantically.

A crooked, dangerous smile crossed Magnus's face and he rotated on the spot to look up at the palace in the distance. The fire had spread and was streaking up the hill, and in the light of the flames, the swirling, black vortex that was hovering over the palace, flanked by winged demons, was thrown into sharp relief. Jonathan was working some black magic, summoning something into the castle.

"They'll be going the same way as Jocelyn and Luke." Magnus's finger tips sparked with green light. "We're going to castle, right to the heart of all this."