"You're sure you want to do this?" Luke asks from beside me, his blue eyes looking down at me, unsure. I nod fervently and look down at my outfit. My jeans are torn, stained with blood and splattered with demon poison – or Ichor as Indie had told me on the way to Luke's. My shirt is ripped on the sleeve and I reek of blood, sweat and salt.
"Do you think they'll recognise me?" I ask Luke and he nods.
"Yes. Do you know why?" I shake my head. "Because you look so much like Jocelyn."
"That's not exactly what I meant," I say, smiling. "I look terrible; covered in blood and dirt. Will they see the girl under all of this?" Luke grins and ruffles my matted hair.
"That bright red hair of yours is a dead giveaway," He says and I glower and him. "Come on."
Luke leads the way across the relatively quiet street and stops outside tall wrought iron gates. I peer through the gaps in the bars and rest my cheeks against the cool metal. Just beyond is a magnificent cathedral; a ghostly like glow reflecting off of the windows in the bright moonlight. The moon is low; almost full. My eyes flicker to Luke who raises his eyebrows teasingly.
"Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" He jokes and I stick my tongue out at him. "Don't worry about that. Full moon was two days ago. It's waning. "
"Is this where you were trained?" I ask. Luke shakes his head, looking at the cathedral with an intense air of sorrow.
"No, I was trained in Idris."
"Idris?"
"Shadowhunter land," Magnus says from beside me. "Are we going to the Sanctuary?" He asks Luke.
Luke shrugs. "No other way, is there? Clary's not going in on her own."
"What's the Sanctuary?" I ask as Indie looks nervously up at the tall building.
"We can't go further than the Sanctuary, Clary. Maryse will hopefully wake up and meet with us." Luke looks slightly green in the moonlight. "I haven't seen her in years. This should be fun." Luke pushes the gate open and walks up to the grand, wooden doors. Placing his hand upon the door, he whispers:
"In the name of the Clave and the Angel Raziel, I Luke Graymark –"The door opens with a small click. "You absolutely sure?"
"Yes, Luke," I sigh, stepping forward and pushing open the door. I freeze on the threshold.
"Clary, there you are." A younger version of my mother enters the hall with a tall, bony woman, whose dark hair is pull up into a ponytail. She's very pretty, with sparkling blue eyes and dark ebony hair that shines in the early evening light.
" Mum!" I cry, running forward and jumping into my mother's outstretched arm. My small body curls up in her arms comfortably. "Hi Maryse." I greet the woman who smiles warmly back at me.
"Hi, Clary. Where've you been?" My mother chuckles and settles me back on the floor. I grab her hand instantly.
"Where hasn't she been, May?" We advance up a grand staircase, taking double the time because I don't step, I jump; both legs locked together as I bounce up with surprising energy.
"I was with Indie and Isabelle," I exclaim happily, skipping down the corridor in front of them. "Indie was showing us the fairies in Green Park."
"Did you have a nice time, Sweetie?" I nod feverishly.
"Can I go tomorrow? Please, Mummy?" My mother takes the time to think about it and sighs dramatically.
"What do you think, May?"
"I don't know, maybe we should lock her up in Alec's room." I scream in protest and my mother and Maryse laugh.
"I can't stay in Alec's room, that's weird." I shiver comically and pout when the women laugh harder.
"You stay in Jace's room all the time." My mother points out, pushing open a door. The sounds of metal on metal echoes around the room and I look up to see a younger looking Alec and a tall, athletic boy locked in a fighting position.
"That's different." I blush.
"Clary!" I hear a young boy cry. Jace – blonde haired, golden eyed – rushes across the room and swings me up into his arms. An elated cry rips through me and I giggle. I never giggle. "I missed you today." I notice Maryse and my mum exchange knowing looks.
"I missed you too, Jace. You should come with us tomorrow." Jace makes a face.
"No thanks." He leads me over to where Alec is now gulping down a bottle of water breathlessly. "Good fight, Zan," Jace says to the boy who Alec was fighting. He has dark, chocolate coloured hair, green, moss coloured eyes and a sunny grin that seems to light up the room.
"Thanks, Jace. Hi Clary," He greets me in a strong Australian accent. His green eyes sparkle as I jump into his arms, and he throws his head back to laugh.
"Zander!" His name comes to me in a moment of inspiration; the kind I get before I draw. "Did you beat Alec again?"
"Sure did, Kiddo," He boasts and Alec scoffs.
"It was a draw." I slip out of Zander's arms and gracefully land on the floor.
"Whatever you say, Alexander," Zander teases, ruffling the boy's hair. Jace rolls his eyes at me, pulling me back into his side with an alarming urgency. He relaxes when my hand grasps his tightly.
"Zander," Robert – Alec and Isabelle's dad - says, entering the Training room with a grim look.
"What's up?" Zander walks forward and shoves his hands in his pockets.
"We've got a call from the New York Institute," Robert drags a hand through his hair. "Your half-brother was attacked." Zander seems frozen; not quite believing what he's hearing. I run forward and wrap my arms around his waist.
"Did he survive?"
"Zander, he was attacked by a werewolf," Robert explains. "He survived but he's not with it. He thinks he's turned into some sort of monster, or something."
"What do I do?" His arms come around my shoulders softly. "Do I go to him?"
"If that is what you think is the right thing to do," Robert says kindly. "You remember the way he was the last time you saw him." Zander nods.
"I know but Mum would have wanted her son to go to her other son's aid, wouldn't she?" Zander says bitterly.
"Your mother loved you, Zan."
"Well, she had a funny way of showing it. She always did prefer Jordan. What's she going to do now her precious Jordan is a monster?" Zander pulls away from my hug and storms to the door. "You know what? He can die for all I care. He doesn't care about me. I sure as hell don't care about him."
"Clary, are you ok?" I nod and step further into the hall. The entrance is brightly lit, accenting the elaborate patterns that decorate the skirting board. There's little furniture, just a well polished table that sits in the corner. On it sits a pile of old newspapers, a forgotten dagger and an old looking telephone. I walk over to the table, tracing the careful engravings on the wood with my finger.
"Magnus?" A startled voice asks from the staircase. I peer out of the shadows; watching Maryse descend the steps in a black robe that falls to her knees. Her black hair is pulled back in a strict bun and her eyes are no longer filled with a joking, freeness. "Lucian! Indie! What are you doing here?"
"It's good to see you, Maryse," Indie greets the woman and hugs her gently. Maryse seems to emit a strict, sad glow. She's a completely different person to the woman I just saw in my memory a few minutes ago.
"Lucian. What are you doing here?" She stares at Luke with a mixture of sadness and irritation. "Where have you been?"
"I've been in the city for the last four years," Luke explains. "I'm surprised you never found me, really. I'm alpha of the pack downtown."
"You never striked me as an alpha, Lucian."
"You never striked me as someone who didn't search for her friends," Luke growls.
"Jocelyn left. That was her choice. She abandoned us. I didn't think she wanted finding." Maryse looks over at Magnus. "Why are you here, Magnus?" She sounds tired, like Magnus' appearance is a daily occurrence.
"I came with her," Magnus replies simply.
"It's good to see you, Indie. But where have you been all this time?" Maryse sounds slightly warmer towards the young girl.
"I've been serving the Seelie Queen for the last three years, Maryse," Indie replies calmly. Maryse looks surprised.
"I thought you didn't want to work for her."
"Things change," Indie says.
"That they do." Silence fills the room.
"How has everything been, Maryse?" Luke asks slowly.
"The kids are out at the moment. You know, at Pandemonium." She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "They haven't been great the last few years, the kids. You know, since Cl- she left." Maryse sighs. "I don't understand why Jocelyn would take Clary away."
"Maryse?" Maryse looks up at Luke with an unfathomable expression. "Clary's memories were wiped." The second silence fills the room.
"Wiped? What do you mean wiped? Who would wipe her memories?"
"I would," Magnus said, indifferent. A third silence ensues. Jocelyn's blue eyes blaze with venom.
"Why on earth did you -"
"Jocelyn left England and came to find me. She asked me to wipe Clary's memories of Shadowhunting, your family and the whole of that world. Jocelyn knew that if Clary forgot everything, Clary wouldn't be in danger and neither would your family."
"Wouldn't be in danger? Clary's in more danger if she's forgotten everything, then if she remembered. Jocelyn just didn't want to face Valentine again-"
"Don't you dare," spits Luke. "Jocelyn left to protect her daughter and make sure your family didn't get hurt."
"Well, that didn't work, did it? Alec never talks to anyone. Isabelle hasn't been fighting half as well as she used to. And Jace-"Maryse brakes off.
"Is an egotistical basta-"
"Magnus," Indie interrupts.
"He never smiles anymore. I'd give anything to just see him smile again." My heart stutters. Was all this because of me? "If Clary came back, this family – it would be like the old times again."
"Except I don't remember the old times." I whisper, stepping from the shadows. Maryse stares at me mildly, her eyes looking me up and down. And then her eyes widen and she gasps.
"Clary!" She stumbles towards me. "Oh, my girl." She cries and pulls me into a tight hug.
"It's good to see you, Maryse," I mutter and she pulls back, wiping fiercely under her eyes.
"How much do you remember?" I shrug and avert my gaze.
"Not a lot. But more and more keeps coming back to me. I think I'm remembering things in order, like most recent things first. But I just remembered the London Institute from when I was only six, I think. I remember the important things."
"Do you remember me?" Her face lights up with a hopeful smile and I almost lie.
"Not much but I remember the smell of your amazing cooking and the smell of Uncle Robert's cologne." Maryse looks slightly disappointed. "I'm sorry."
"Oh, don't be silly, Clare," She says and pushes my hair off of my forehead, looking into my eyes. "What have you been doing?"
"She had a run in with a ravener demon," Indie says.
"What?" Luke and Maryse say in unison.
"She killed it too," Indie adds in admiration.
"With what?" Luke demands, his eyes flickering to the seraph blade strapped to my hip. "I thought your mother had hidden all the blades and daggers?"
"I found this at the bottom of her closet," I explain, twisting the seraph blade through my fingers. "It's mine, isn't it?" Luke and Maryse nod.
"Your mother gave it to you for your twelfth birthday. It was for when you were bigger, more trained. You're the perfect size for it now," Luke explains.
"She looks so much like Jocelyn," Maryse whispers to herself. "But she also looks dreadful! What on earth happened to you after? How did she meet you three?"
"I've been in contact with Clary and Jocelyn for the last four years," Luke mutters. "They," He points to Magnus, Indie and I, "found me being interrogated by the Pangborns." A frown puckers Maryse's features.
"You knew all this time!? Why didn't you try and stop Jocelyn. Why-"
"I was too late the first time because I arrived a month after they did. But even after that I tried. Jocelyn wouldn't listen. She was adamant, she was doing the right thing."
"It wasn't her decision to make," Maryse says bitterly. "Her actions destroyed my family!"
"She didn't want what happened to Max, to happen to anyone else!" I say abruptly. Maryse looks at me like I've slapped her.
"Clary, why don't you go freshen up?" Luke suggests, looking at the floor.
"I don't know where to go," I say.
"I'll show you," a husky, Australian voice offers. I look up at the staircase in shock.
"Zander!" He descends the stairs slowly, gracefully, his expression impassive. He nods politely at Luke, glares at Magnus and ignores Indie altogether. Gone is the fun-loving, jokester I had grown up with. This man is stern, sinister.
"You remember Zander?" Luke asks in shock.
"Yes. Why? Shouldn't I?"
"It's just, you haven't seen him since you were six," Maryse says, all hurt she had previously felt forgotten. "He left to come to New York." So Zander did come to visit his half-brother? He had put everything aside and left his life behind?
"When Jordan was changed?" I look between Zander and Luke expectantly. Zander's dark green eyes meet mine with a kindness I don't expect many people see. He nods.
"I thought you remembered important people?" Magnus says dryly, leaning casually against the wall.
"Watch it, Bane," Zander growls, taking a step towards the warlock. I place a hand on his toned chest and look up at him cautiously.
"I thought you were going to show me where I can go to wash up?" I pointedly begin walking up the stairs, looking over my shoulder when he doesn't follow me. "Zan?" I use the nickname from the memory, hoping this will make him follow. He sighs before following, taking two steps at a time and overtaking me quickly.
He walks ahead of me in a stony silence, his tattooed-rune painted- arms swinging by his sides. My legs strain as I hurry to keep up but my breathing is steady.
"What happened?" Zander turns around so abruptly I almost fall into him. I cross my arms across my chest, uncomfortable.
"Magnus wiped my memories. My mom – she wanted me to forget everything." Zander looks pained.
"Everything?"
"Everything," I whisper.
"How much do you remember of me?" I bite my lip hard.
"You left when I was six. Even if my memories weren't wiped, would I remember you?" Zander looks stricken, a shadow crossing his features.
"I was going to come back," He looks out of the large stain glass window to our right; the city beyond is alive, even at this late hour. To think anyone has a normal life anymore. My life was normal two days ago. His eyes flicker to me and back again. "But Jordan wasn't coping very well. And then Dad turned up out of the blue... If I had known about the trouble everyone was in back home, I would have been there in an instant." Zander looks sickened with himself.
"When did you find out about Max?" I ask, leaning up against the window sill next to him. Zander sighs.
"When the Lightwoods turned up on the Institute door step. It was, what, three years ago? A couple of months after you disappeared." A dark chuckle escapes his lips, and he throws his head back. It would be a beautiful sound – melodic – but the dark glint in his eyes doesn't escape my notice. "I've lived here for nine years. You'd think I'd know if any Shadowhunters turned up in the city."
"But I'm not a Shadowhunter, not really," I argue. Next thing, I'm pinned up against the wall, Zander glaring at me with a mixture of anger and disbelief.
"Clary Fairchild is one of the best Shadowhunters I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. She's one of the nicest too. You don't usually get that with Shadowhunters. Take the Lightwoods. Alec is the moodiest, most ignorant boy I've ever met; Isabelle is a terrible cook with a hot head volcano; Jace is the vainest, most annoyingly persistent boy ever; I'm unstable, unreliable and worth nothing. But you," Zander closes his eyes like he's in pain, "are the purest, most innocent soul any of us have ever met. You made us nice. When you left, it's like the sunshine had been destroyed." I throw my arms around him and bury my face in the crook of his neck. He smells like the woods; musky and warm.
"You're not worth nothing," I murmur and his arms wrap tightly around my waist, lifting my small frame off of the floor slightly. He used to do this a lot, my mind seems to whisper fleetingly. I remember.
The room Zander led me to, was surprisingly modern; white dressers and closet with rich purple covers on the huge double bed, and matching curtains. A place as old and mysterious as this, seemed the most unlikely of places to hold a room as new as this. Zander is draped over the bed, flipping through a heavy looking, green book with a bright expression on his face. He seems happier now, less depressed.
"Where should I put these?" I ask, holding out two soaking towels I had just used after my shower. Zander points towards the corner of the room, where a large hamper sits comfortably. I deposit them in the box and return to the bed; perching next to Zander. "Whatcha reading?" He shrugs.
"The Gray Book." I nod. He looks at me. And laughs. "I'm sorry; it's going to be strange knowing you don't know what we're talking about."
"We're?" My heart beats erratically in my chest.
"Me, Alec, Isabelle, Jace...everyone." He flips through the book to the very first page. "These are runes." He points to the diagram on the first page. "This is Enkeli. It's the Angelic power rune. Every Shadowhunter is given one when they're first initiated."
"This one?" I ask, shoving the sleeve of my borrowed shirt up my arm and pointing at the identical rune. Zander nods.
"Yep. Now, this one..." Zander flicks through the pages, explaining what the runes do. Some I have, some I don't.
"What's this one?" I ask, pointing at a confusing, complex rune. I touch the back of my neck as the scar-rune -there tingles. Zander grins.
"That's the parabatai rune," He explains, smiling coyly. "Or the friendship rune."
"What's it do?"
"It signifies your compatibility of friendship in battle. If you have a parabatai, you're not fighting alone but with your best friend. Your brother or sister in combat."
"So, who's my parabatai?"
"I think you can answer that question," Zander says. "Or maybe you can't."
I pause, thinking hard. "Isabelle?" Zander nods and itches his forehead. "Isabelle is my parabatai?"
"You two were one heck of a pair, I must say. Even when you were younger," He chuckles. "You didn't fight demons until you were twelve, but you did study combat and, boy, were you fast. Like smoke through your hands."
"Do you have a parabatai, Zander?" Zander shakes his head.
"Nah."
"Can you not have one?"
"Not anymore. Once you're over the age of eighteen, that's it. You can't get a parabatai after that."
"Why?" Zander shrugs. "How old are you?"
"Twenty one," He says and stares up at the blue ceiling. "I was twelve when I left the London Institute."
"How long were you in Australia for?"
"Till I was about nine."
"Why'd you leave?" Zander closes the Gray Book and clasps his hands behind his head.
"My Mum remarried a guy from New York and moved here. I didn't like the guy. They had Jordan and I moved to London to be closer to my dad. He was a Shadowhunter. My mum wasn't. They couldn't be together." I nod and for a few minutes there's silence.
"How do I look?" I tug at the tight collar of Isabelle's black shirt Zander had given me. I'm wearing ridiculously tight pants too and knee high combat boots a little like my own. My hair – having just got out of the shower – is slightly wet, but hangs in soft curls down my back.
"Like a Shadowhunter." Zander grins.
"How long will they be?" I say impatiently.
"Another hour at least. The demon activity in Pandemonium is pretty high."
"Well, I'm going to find them," I announce, stubbornly; walking over to the window and opening it.
"You're what?" Zander follows hurriedly. "You can't go after them, you're –"
"I'm what? Untrained?" I say, looking down at the drop. It's manageable, but still wouldn't be pretty if I land it wrong. "I've killed a demon and escaped two psychopathic Shadowhunters in two days. I'll manage." I throw my leg over the ledge and edge out of the window.
"Then I'm coming with you," Zander decides and retreats back into the room to get his blade. He reappears moments later, seraph blade tucked in the sheath at his hip. "Let me do the fighting tonight, Fairchild," he says and I don't even correct the unfamiliar last name he used.
Jace's POV (EEK)
I officially hate mundanes. I hate the way they walk; strutting around the room like they own the place. I hate the way they do that grinding thing in clubs. I mean, come on, how trashy is that? I hate the way they bitch about their friends. I hate the way they start fights. I hate the way they enjoy the fighting. I hate the way they smile at you, like they know something you don't. I hate the way they laugh; fake as Isabelle's fingernails. She's been biting her real ones since she could chew. I hate the way they think they're lives are boring. Trust me; a boring life is a safe life.
"Do you know how much this shirt cost?" Isabelle rages to her brother, emerging out of the store room with a sour look on her face. The ichor blood that stains her shirt (if you want to call that scrap of material a shirt) looks black in the darkness of the club, and she furiously wipes at it – making it worse. "You're paying for this." Alec shrugs.
"Sure," He winks at me subtly and I roll my eyes. "I'll step out for the next one," He says and Isabelle scoffs.
"You're just scared my blade will miss the demon and get you instead," She says. You might laugh, but she's being serious. Anyone who damages her clothes will not be alive at the end to tell the tale, unless it's her brother. "I'm tired. One more then we'll go." I nod, checking over my shoulder for any observers, before tracing a glamour rune on to my arm with my stele.
Isabelle wanders off into the crowd; hips and hair swaying as she walks.
"Jace," Alec says and I turn to him. He has a frown puckering his dark eyebrows and his blue eyes are narrowed.
"What?" He shakes his head.
"Nothing," I raise my eyebrows, disbelievingly, "I thought I just saw – never mind." I'm about to retort when Isabelle saunters past, a tall "man" with turquoise hair matching her light footsteps. For a moment our eyes meet, and then she disappears into the storage cupboard – the blue haired boy slipping in after her, closing the door quietly behind him.
"Good luck," Alec mutters as I finish my drink and grab my blade.
"I don't need luck," I say cockily before following Isabelle and the man into the closet.