Part I:
"You shall find out how salt is the taste of another man's bread and how hard is the way up and down another man's stairs."
Chapter III:
Jace lands hard on his side, his arms wrapped around the girl's waist. They tumble down a hill, and luckily he lands on top, sitting on her. He grabs her arms, pinning them down, but she fights back. He squeezes her wrists, finding her strength surprising. She's small, dainty. He doesn't budge, sitting on top of her and slightly frowning, like this was all a tiny inconvenience.
"Why are you here," he asks her, and she spits in his face. He wipes it off, but releases her hand, and she takes the chance to punch him. He goes back to holding her arms down.
"Why are you here," he asks again. "We have done nothing."
"And that's the problem, isn't it," she says, glaring. "You stand aside and do nothing while our race dies."
"Shadowhunters won't die out," he says. He knows she is right, but he had the smallest hope. Shadowhunters were, after all, great warriors. They sjould endure. "The world needs us."
"We're already going extinct. You're just too blind," she says, twisting her body to try and escape. He pushes down on her.
"Maybe it's you who is too blind," he says, glaring viciously as he squeezes her wrists. "The Circle, what a load of shit."
"You don't see it, do you," she says back. "We need to start a new race. A better one."
"Everything's fine the way it is," he says. "Shadowhunters do our job. Me and my family aren't a part of that world any more, but we still do our part. We kill demons."
"You, a demon, kill demons," she says. He flinches, and she laughs. "I know you, Jonathan. I know who you are."
"You don't know shit about me," he says. "Nothing at all."
"Do you want to know how I know what you are," she says softly, smiling slightly. He sits there, staring down blankly. "Let me go and I'll tell you."
"I'm not that stupid," he says. He ponders what to do with her, then remembers his father and brother. "I need to go back home."
"You love them. That's weakness," she says. "And how can your father love you. He knows what you are, doesn't he?"
"What were you guys doing," he says back, squeezing her wrists even harder, enjoying her pained expression. But truthfully, deep down, he felt hatred for his father. He hated his brother. Love was something that did make you weak, it gave you faith in something that was so easily broken. Love was just a feeling, not words, not actions. Just a bunch of chemicals in this lost world.
"Power endures," she says back coldly. He shakes his head, releasing her wrists.
"Why did you come for us?"
"Why would I tell you? I'm your captive now," she says, Glaring, he gives her a light slap. Her eyes narrow, her face hate-filled, but then she grins and laughs. "You tease."
"If I was teasing, you couldn't resist," he jokes cockily. She smiles softly.
"Oh, I'll bet."
Hodge Starkweather was looking over his plants in his greenhouse when he gets a phone call. He cared for flowers the most, since they required much care. Cleaning, watering, and weeding them out was his favourite past time. He didn't have to think, just do. Simple, easy, elegant, no weapons involved. No tactical planning. He only started doing this a few months ago, but already he was enjoying it thoroughly.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket, his other hand lightly running over the petals of a red flower. The caller ID said Jonathan Dale.
"Hello, Hodge Starkweather here," Hodge says.
"Hodge, I know we haven't talked in a few years, but something has come up," the voice says.
"... Valentine, is this you," Hodge says. "It's dangerous phoning me. Being stuck here in the Institute, what if someone finds out about this?"
"I know. You know I wouldn't call if it was an emergency," Valentine says. Hodge steps away from the plants, pacing the greenhouse.
"What's happened?" Hodge takes a seat, then stands and goes back to walking around. Rarely, in the last seventeen years, had Valentine ever messaged him. Mostly it was to find places to hide out at. Other times, they simply caught up. But those days rarely happened.
"The circle came to my house. Jace is in Germany, at that old cottage I used to live at. He's there with a circle member, I need to get there ASAP."
"Wait, the Circle came to your house," Hodge says. "This is serious."
"Yeah, I know. They were looking for the cup, Hodge," Valentine says, and Hodge stands still, biting him thumb. He takes a deep breath.
"How did you get away," Hodge asks.
"Jonathan and Jace actually came to see me. Much to my disappoint, they could have gotten hurt... but I need to get to Germany. Do you still have the cup," Valentine asks. Hodge nods slowly.
"I do. I can try giving Magnus Bane a call, but he's in New York. Where are you," Hodge asks.
"New York."
"You're kidding. And this entire time, you never once phoned? How long you been here," Hodge asks, placing a hand on his hip.
"About a year. Just want my kids to finish school... I would have come to see you, but it's risky. Jocelyn came," Valentine says, and Hodge sighs, biting his thumb again.
"What happened?"
"I'll tell you another time. I'd like to keep in touch, but I've go to move now. Jonathan is with me, I need to find Jace. Where does Magnus Bane live?" Valentine asks. Hodge thinks a moment, then gives the address.
"How did Jocelyn react," Hodge asks.
"She kicked me."
"Fun," Hodge sighs.
"Between the legs."
"Even more fun," Hodge says, resisting the urge to laugh. He swallows, running a hand through his hair. "What do I do about the cup?"
"Keep it hidden. Don't show anyone. I'll call you back later," Valentine says, and the line goes dead. Hodge stares at the phone, a long sigh escaping. He would have liked to talk more, not just because of the arrival of the Circle but for the sake of talking. He was lonely. At one point, he had been in the Circle too, but after the Circle's first failed attempt at taking control over Idris, he left. But, he was banned from ever entering Idris. And he was banned from leaving his current home, the New York Institute.
Hodge walks to the exit, going down the hall. He had to go to his room, and find his deck of cards. It was time to figure out what to do with the Mortal cup.
Jace still didn't know what to do with the girl.
He stares down at her, watching her expression, the slight flickers and twitches. But her face remained confident. He could tell she was the stubborn sort.
"What exactly are you planning to do with me," she asks. He sighs.
"Let me think." He goes back to think. He could, of course, let her go, let her run away. But then she'd tell her comrades where he is. Unless, of course, he found some way to hide. He knew Valentine would come for him. But how long would it take for someone to arrive?
"If I let you go," Jace says, "Would you agree to a temporary ceasefire?"
"How do I know you'll stick to it," she says to him.
"Because I'm the one letting you go."
"Fair enough. You trust me," she says, grinning, and he swallows. With that smile, he didn't trust her at all.
"I don't have a choice. We'll be here all day if we keep this up. I let you go, we go our separate ways," he says, and she nods softly. He stands up slowly, stepping away, and she gets up as well. She rubs her hands together, dusts off her jeans- then kicks him hard in the shin. Jace gasps, jumping back from her, and watches as she turns and takes off running into the distant.
"What a bitch," Jace says as he watches her go. What else was he supposed to do? Thinking back on it, he could have waited until his father arrives... whenever he arrives. For now, Jace was glad to get rid of the girl. What a bitch. And a feisty one too. And independent. Shaking his head, Jace turns around and walks to the cottage nearby, looking for a place to wait for his rescuers. It was going to be a long wait.
Jonathan was sitting on the edge of his car seat, absorbing his father's words.
"Jonathan and Jace actually came to see me. Much to my disappoint, they could have gotten hurt... but I need to get to Germany. Do you still have the cup," Valentine asked his friends on the phone.
This was new. The cup? Could he be talking about the Mortal cup? Jonathan stares at his father, wondering why he wouldn't talk about the cup, since his father obviously knew who had it. His father trusted him and Jace with what happened to them when they were in the womb, he trusted them with information about the Circle, but not one of the most powerful shadowhunter instrument.
"About a year. Just want my kids to finish school... I would have come to see you, but it's risky. Jocelyn came," Valentine says.
Jonathan keeps staring at him, his mind spinning even more.
Jocelyn?
As in Jocelyn Fairchild? Jocelyn Morgenstern?
Jonathan's own mother?
"I'll tell you another time. I'd like to keep in touch, but I've go to move now. Jonathan is with me, I need to find Jace. Where does Magnus Bane live?" Valentine asks another question. Jonathan sighs impatiently, wanting to toss the phone and start asking questions. But he's made enough hasty moves tonight.
Finally, Valentine hangs up and stares at him, his eyes saying a lot. But nothing comes out.
"That woman was Jocelyn? As in my mother? And are you talking about the mortal cup," Jonathan begins talking, and Valentine turns his eyes to the road.
"Yes. That was your mother. And yes, she could be looking for the mortal cup. As I told you, the Circle was going to use it to create more shadowhunters... for now, the cup is in a secure, hiding location. Away from your mother," Valentine says, stressing his words. Jonathan looks out the window, unsure of what to say.
"That was my mother back there. No offence, dad, but she could kick your ass," Jonathan laughs, trying to lighten the mood. His father sighs, and after a few moments laughs as well.
"She was one of the best. A beautiful shadowhunter," he father says. Jonathan nods, squeezing the seat below him. A beautiful shadowhunter. Jonathan knew she was, he had seen a grey photo of her, when she was in the Academy with his father. She looked pretty, and young. His father used to say her eyes were green like spring.
"What was she doing at our apartment, dad," Jonathan asks.
"I'm not sure. To find the cup maybe. To find you, and Jace. You and Jace are very unique, she would want to know how you two are now. Now that you're older."
Jonathan nods to the words. Now that he and Jace were older, they had proven to be spectacular shadowhunters, even if they only had one teacher. Jace could climb, leap, sometimes it looked like he was flying. And Jonathan... well, it was confusing what Jonathan could do. Sure, he was great, fast, but what was his special gift? Now, he was forced to think about that one thing he didn't want to.
He had angel blood running in his veins. But an excess amount. Sometimes, he felt a humming in his blood, a thumping in his heart, when he was battling demons or running. A pulsating power, that had yet to be unleashed.
Or he was just crazy.
He looks at his father again.
"Where are we going," Jonathan asks.
"Magnus Bane's. If I'm remembering the correct person, he doesn't like me much. He's a downworlder, a warlock, he'll create a portal for us."
"That reminds me," Jonathan says, turning to look at his dad. "That girl back there, she drew a portal. How did she do that? Our of nowhere?"
"I don't want you thinking of that girl, Jonathan," Valentine says briskly.
"I want to know. Tell me. You've told me everything else," Jonathan presses. He stares at his father dead on. "I won't tell Jace."
"I don't want you telling Jace, not yet. I will. I'm not sure how he'll react..." Valentine swallows, looking at his son. "Your mother, I left her when she was pregnant. It could be her child."
"My sister then. How can you be sure," Jonathan says.
"Because they look like each other. Twins, twenty years apart. You weren't there in that room, talking to them, Jonathan." Valentine looks right at the road. "She looks just like Jocelyn. Acts like her, too."
"Okay," Jonathan says, looking back out his window. His mother had come to their apartment, possibly looking for the mortal cup, possibly coming for him, and with her was his sister. "Dad, have you told me everything."
"I believe I have."
"There's no more? You're not lying about anything else," Jonathan says carefully, looking back at his father, who shakes his head.
"No, Jonathan. There's nothing else to say."