Chapter 35
The courtroom buzzed with tension as the defendant was brought in surrounded by guards. Many of the spectators in the galleries came daily to see this spectacle of a trial, and wager on its outcome. At first, most assumed a guilty verdict was inevitable, laws had been broken after all, but gradually some of them got caught up in the dramatic story, and began to feel sympathy for the accused.
At last, the Justices marched in, and court was called to order. Magnus' Advocate, Asher, prepared to continue his case by calling Clary Fray to the stand. Even Magnus was a bit surprised by this, as Jace and Catarina had already testified to the events that led up to the birth of Aiden, and his subsequent kidnapping. What could Clary possibly add? Still, Asher had done very well so far, better in fact, than Magnus had expected, so he set his doubts aside, and waited with the rest of the Court to see what the faerie had up his sleeve.
Clary walked quickly to the witness box, stopping only for a moment to give her oath to tell nothing but the truth. Shadowhunters testifying before the Court of Assize knew full well that the soul sword would be produced if their word was questioned. As she sat, calm and still, Clary watched Magnus' advocate approach ready to begin the questioning.
"Miss Fray;" Asher began; "Please tell the court how and where you grew up."
Before Clary could answer the question, prosecutor Crestwell was on his feet protesting that, however interesting Miss fray's background may be, it was hardly relevant to the matter at hand.
Chief Justice Gray looked sternly at Asher who hastened to assure the Judge that his line of questioning did have a point.
"I will grant you a little leeway;" Gray said, "But you had better get to the point, I will not have you waste the Court's time Advocate."
Asher looked encouragingly at his witness, and Clary explained that she had grown up in New York City, raised as a mundane with no knowledge of the shadow world.
"Miss Fray, am I correct in assuming that mundanes have magic to help otherwise barren couples conceive a child?" Asher asked, a sly smile on his handsome face.
Crestwell was again on his feet objecting to this very strange, seemingly irrelevant line of questioning, and though the Chief Justice instructed the witness to answer, he advised Asher that he was on very thin ice and to get to the point quickly.
"Y-yes;" Clary agreed. "It's not magic, but mundane medicine can help couples, who are having trouble conceiving a child, get pregnant."
"Is it a hanging offense if they are caught using those methods to conceive?" Asher asked.
"No, of course not!" Clary responded, shocked by the suggestion.
"No, of course not," Asher reiterated; "The favoured of the Angels are souled, and have the right to bear children."
A muttering rose up in the gallery in response to this remark, and seeing the scowl on the Judges faces, Asher hastened to ask his next question; "Miss Fray, you are one of the very few shadowhunters who have ever been in the presence of the Angel Raziel, is that correct?"
"Y-yes" Clary replied, wondering, not for the first time, where Asher's questions were leading.
"Please tell the Court what Raziel's response was to Valentine's desire that the world be rid of demons and downworlders alike."
For Clary, the memory was visceral, as if the Angel's words were still ringing in her ears all these years later, and she said...
"The Angel told Valentine that Demons do not possess souls. But as for the creatures he spoke of, 'the Children of the Moon, Night, Lilith, and Faerie, all are souled.'[1] Raziel said that Valentine's rules as to what 'does and does not constitute a human being were stricter than their own.'[2]" Clary answered, her voice strong and clear as the memories of that time returned to her. She saw again the great storm that had risen from Lake Lyn, at the centre of which rose the Angel, Raziel, his body marked with angelic runes, his great golden wings spread out behind him. He was both terrifying and beautiful, and it was a memory seared into Clary's consciousness in every detail, and for all time.
"Do you think that the Angel would be offended by the child of a souled shadowhunter and a souled downworlder, no matter how it was created Miss Fray?" Asher asked.
"No I do not!" Clary responded, voicing ringing out loud and clear in the now hushed courtroom.
Crestwell was on his feet, objecting that the witness' opinion should be stricken from the record, but Asher knew the damage had been done, the Judges could not un-hear Clarissa Fray's words, no matter how much they may have wanted to.
~~~~!~~~~
Heavily armed men slipped silently through the narrow passages to one of the least used entry points to the Edinburgh underground. Led by High Warlock Aidan Briosag, these men would give their lives, if that's what it took, to save the sanctuary they called home. Huddled unobtrusively among them was a slight, pale woman. Her name was Wren, and she was an Ifrit, a warlock with no magic, shunned by the mundane for her warlock mark, and by the warlocks for her lack of power.
Aidan had found Wren, many years ago, living a life of misery and isolation with her mundane mother. He recognized the pale blue scales that adorned Wren's neck for what they were, and offered the pair sanctuary in the Edinburgh underground under his own personal protection. Even among the downworld, differences could be treated harshly, but with Aidan's help the pair had been accepted and forged a better life in the Edinburgh underground. And when Wren's mortal mother passed away, Aidan was there, to support her through the loss, a brother in all but blood.
Wren did not consider herself brave, nor did she have magic to use if cornered, but when Aidan came to her and explained how she might be the means of saving the underground, she didn't hesitate. Aidan and his men would create a distraction, and she would slip out, her status as an Ifrit meaning she wouldn't trip the Hellfire Club's wards.
As soon as Aidan's men reach the entrance, they engage the enemy, fighting fiercely to ensure Druganin's men believed this was a legitimate attempt to break out. Aidan gave Wren a small signal that it was time, and she moved stealthily past the fighters, disappearing into the dark Edinburgh streets.
Looking back frequently, terrified that she was being followed, Wren made her way out of the city, into the surrounding countryside. It was even darker here with no street lights or bright windows to lift the gloom. Wren had rarely been outside the Edinburgh underground, preferring to spend her time in safe, familiar surroundings. Aidan made sure she knew how to get to the small, thatched roof cottage of Jenny Bone, quizzing her endlessly until she had the directions firmly in her mind.
When Wren arrived, the cottage looked deserted, derelict, and for one brief moment she was afraid that this desperate trip had been in vain. Before Wren could raise her hand to knock however, the door swung open on squeaking hinges and she saw, a small, bird-like woman with wild black hair, light green eyes and what appeared to be bat wings fluttering from her shoulder blades, standing before her.
"A-are you Jenny Bone?" Wren asked.
"Who wants to know? Jenny responded, brusquely. In her experience, visitors at this time of night rarely meant good news.
"I-I'm Wren;" The girl stammered, and when this didn't elicit any response from Miss Bone, she hastily added; "Aidan Briosag sent me, he needs your help!"
"Well, why didn't you say so at once!" Jenny scolded, ushering her visitor into the, cozy cluttered lounge just beyond the cottage's front door. A snap of the warlock's fingers saw all the candles lit and a cheery fire spring up on the hearth.
Wren wasted no time in telling Jenny about the dire situation in the Edinburgh underground, and was relieved when the warlock indicated she would take Aidan's message to the New York Institute. A scant few minutes later, Wren sat in an arm chair by the fire, a cup of tea steaming nearby, as she watched Jenny Bone disappear through the swirling green portal on the opposite wall.
[1] Cassandra Clare - City of Glass Raziel to Valentine.
[2] Cassandra Clare - City of Glass Raziel to Valentine.