I was led down an earthen corridor to a small, furnished chamber.

"Your room," said the faerie who had guided me.

I didn't bother saying thank you and she didn't wait around to hear it. There was no door to my new room, only a curtain which I immediately drew closed. Sitting in the relative privacy it created, I allowed my mind to go numb.

Yes, I had questions. No, I did not want to consider them. Instead, I let myself pretend that none of it was real. This was all just some bizarre dream and I would wake up safely tucked away in Magnus's apartment. That was all.

The curtain was opened to reveal a faerie knight I didn't know. "The Queen would like to see you."

Great.


"Valentine once asked something of us," she began her soliloquy. "It was a grand request, though the repayment we were promised more than covered the favor granted. He wanted something as simple and precious as our identity: he wanted our blood.

"He said that he was trying to create a new line of Shadowhunters and that if we would assist him then we would have a claim over the Clave. We agreed to give him what he needed for his experiment in exchange for control of these new Shadowhunters created from our bloodlines.

"The price would not have been as high for the blood of a lesser court member but the blood given was my own. The Shadowhunter created would be treated among Fey as my own, since they would possess my blood.

"Valentine's experiment was successful, but he never repaid his debt. He did not bring us the child as promised so in retribution, we sought the child out for ourselves. But you would not come to us and you were not old enough to be of use to us. So we waited.

"Over the years of waiting, we researched. You humans know so little of magic and yet you still insist on dabbling in it. You fear magic and never know its entire power. You know of Dark magic, yes. You persecute those who practice it. But you know nothing of Light magic, the magic that fuels your weapons and ultimately gave birth to your kind, you Shadowhunters." The Queen paused to consider me. I shifted uncomfortably, was she blaming me for something? For the ignorance of all Shadowhunters?

"There are three types of magic: Dark, Neutral, and Light. Demons use Dark magic – they were created by it. Demonic forces and Dark magic are one and the same, they cannot exist separately. Warlocks and we, the Fey, use Neutral magic. Neutral magic is the force that exists independently from any being. It does not feed the demons, nor the angels. It is a power that is difficult to control. Then there is Light magic. Angels are composed of Light magic and Light magic is the force of angels. You Shadowhunters base your superiority on your ability to utilize Light magic – and yet you know nothing of it." She scoffed in disdain.

"Why," I asked, "are you telling me all of this?"

"Because Light magic is the most powerful of all," the Queen said simply. "Whoever controls Light magic is unbeatable. Valentine did not know this when he created you – his experiment."

What was it Jace had said, the Fey could be lied to? "You must be misinformed," I said flatly. "I'm not powerful or unbeatable or Fey in any way."

Her eyes flashed. "We cannot be fooled when it comes to one of our own. My blood runs in your veins. It calls to all Fey. It sets you apart."

I shook my head to try and clear it of these crazy thoughts. I glanced around the chamber where we sat. It was similar to the one where we had all first met the Queen but smaller. The Queen was lounging on a stack of pillows while I sat with my legs folded under me across from her. Somehow, in this setting she was both more and less intimidating. If what she said was true, then she was in some form my… mother? "But there are Shadowhunters who are part Fey. Why not claim them?"

"The Nephilim blood is dominant in genetics," she said dismissively. "Fey blood is neutralized in conception."

"Oh, of course. Obviously."

She smiled, displaying all of her sharp teeth. "I did not birth you, but you are mine. You are my claim over the Clave. You are my revenge on Valentine. You are my repayment for the death of a child of the Fey. You are my conductor of Light."

She was crazy. She had lost her mind. I was in a room with a crazy faerie. Yay.

"As a Shadowhunter, Light will not harm you. Your angelic decent protects you. Your Fey blood, not neutralized, allows you to control forces. Jaelyn Catori, you are the only soul who walks this planet who can use Light magic."

She had to be wrong. "If I can use this super powerful Light magic, why haven't I?"

"You have no training. Caelia will train you. You will become powerful. You will be my ambassador to the Clave."

"If I'm 'yours,'" I said slowly, "why don't you train me?"

"I will," she answered, considering me. "I have not the time to train you to use magic, nor the patience. Fey are born with those capabilities, not taught. I trust Caelia; she has served me well. I will train you to be a diplomat. I will train you to represent us to the Clave. And I will train you to lead."

So… I was a faerie princess?


They were all silent as they splashed out of the pond, all acutely aware of their missing member.

Sopping wet and shivering in the night air, Clary turned to Jace. "This is all my fault."

"Probably," he agreed and walked away from her.

Isabelle glared at her before following her adopted brother. Feeling even worse, Clary looked to Simon for support but he had already stormed off in the opposite direction. She called to him but he ignored her. Ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest, she ran after Jace and Isabelle.

"Where are you going?" she demanded once she'd caught up to them.

"The Institute," Jace said emotionlessly. "The Inquisitor has to be informed."

"Oh." Clary shivered at the thought of the harsh woman. What would she do to them? Would they all be locked up in the Silent City?

"Jace," Isabelle said suddenly, "she won't be there. The Institute is empty, everyone's looking for clues in the Silent City."

Jace flipped his wet collar up in a useless attempt to be warmer. "Then we'll have to wait for her. She's going to be furious." He mused for a moment. "Maybe she'll be so upset, she'll have a heart attack."

"Don't get too hopeful," Isabelle cautioned.

Clary had the strangest feeling that they were simply going through the motions of their usual banter to distract themselves from the gaping hole of Jaci's absence. "Magnus!" she said suddenly.

Jace turned to stare at her. "No, I'm Jace."

She glared at him. She wanted to hate him – so badly. She wanted to not care. She wanted to take back that kiss. She wanted to rescue Jaci. But she was powerless. "Maybe Magnus could help us. If we go back to Brooklyn, we could ask him. We could get a taxi."

"Or we could still go to the Institute," Isabelle suggested. "We could get warm clothes and then find Magnus."

Jace nodded. "I need something from the Institute anyways."

Clary hesitated. "I think I'll catch up with Simon and get a cab."

Isabelle snorted. "He's not waiting for you."

Of course, Clary knew she was right. Wordlessly, Isabelle and Jace turned away from her and started walking, leaving her to trail in their wake. Clary found herself wishing for the constant comforting presence of her older sister. Jaci had always played the role of the bigger person, Clary realized. Even after something like this, even after she'd kissed Jace – knowing very well that Jaci was in love with Jace and she, Clary, was dating Simon – Jaci would've put aside her own emotions and come to Clary's rescue. She'd always thought of Jaci as something of a pushover but now she was beginning to see that it wasn't that Jaci was weak, it was that she was strong enough to care so much.

Isabelle turned, about to snap at Clary to keep up, but her words died the instant she saw the smaller girl's face. Maintaining her silence, she turned away again, pretending she hadn't seen Clary's tears and allowing Clary to pretend they hadn't fallen.


Max was asleep in the foyer when they arrived at the Institute. Clary immediately broke away from the awkward little group as the other two moved towards their younger brother. Seeing siblings together hurt.

Her feet automatically took her to Jaci's room in the Institute. Peeta was waiting, curled in the middle of the bed. Clary's heart clenched at the sight of the little animal. Was he waiting for Jaci to come back?

At the sound of her entrance, the cat had picked up his head and turned expectantly towards Clary.

"She's not here," Clary said softly, dropping on the bed in her muddy clothes. "I'm sorry."

And then she felt the tears again. This time, with no one there to see them, she let them fall without restraint. A thousand little acts of kindness from Jaci sprang into her mind and fueled more tears. "Just don't be stupid, okay?"

She snorted. "You know what Jaci told me, Peeta? She told me to take care of people, get things arranged. She didn't tell me to save her. She didn't tell me she was scared. She didn't blame me!" Her voice had risen to a shout. "Why didn't she blame me?! She forgave me… I've been horrible to her, I've said so many things I don't mean…" Somehow, Peeta had ended up in her lap. Curling around the cat, she allowed her body to slump over and she pressed her face into the blanket and let the emotions overcome her.

More time had passed than she was aware of. The tears had stopped, but she was still curled on the bed with Peeta when the door swung open. Jace jumped noticeably when he saw Clary there.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"She's my sister," Clary said defensively, sitting up. "I can be in her room."

Jace could see that Clary was a wreck. "And you've ruined her sheets," he pointed out, struggling to regain his usual drawl. "She'll appreciate that."

Clary got up and moved to the dresser. "I was just going to borrow some of her clothes. They're they only ones that might fit me in this place."

She had expected Jace to make another comment, probably a rude one, but he didn't. Instead, he just suggested that she might feel better after a shower – she looked like a drowned rat.

The rat comment, Clary was ashamed to admit, reminded her of Simon and she immediately checked her phone. Nothing. Not one missed call. Not a single text. She dialed his number and it rang until voicemail took over.

Clary tossed her phone on the bed angrily, snatched some of Jaci's clothes, and marched into the bathroom to do her best to wash off the grime from that evening. She had the feeling it would probably stick with her, at least until they were able to get Jaci back.

Jace was waiting for her, perched on the edge of Jaci's vanity table. He looked mildly irritated, which was better than furious like he had before.

"You didn't need to wait for me," she said, very conscious of how badly Jaci's clothes fit her.

Jace shrugged. "It's late," he said, "maybe you should just sleep here."

Clary nodded mutely and Jace swept out of the room leaving her with the cat. With a heavy sigh, she flopped onto the bed (Jace had removed the damp blanket). From this new angle, she noticed that the nightstand was shoved out a little ways from the wall and the back was coming off of it. For some reason, it comforted her to know that not everything was flawless in the clean cut world of Shadowhunters.

"Just don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"I won't, Jaci. I promise," she murmured as she drifted off to sleep.


After leaving Clary in Jaci's room, Jace had gone to the library after a quick stop at his own room to look for a possible way to save Jaci. He knew the Seelie Queen's words were laced with magic and that Jaci was bound there just as soundly as if she were wrapped with electrum wire. But there had to be a way.

"Jace?"

He whirled around to see Isabelle, now wrapped in a long, flowy nightgown. "Izzy," he acknowledged her and then turned back to the shelf he was searching.

"What are you doing?" she asked, though he guessed that she had an idea.

"Looking for a way to help Jaci."

She was quiet for a moment. "A claim that's stronger than blood," she said at length. "We just have to come up with a claim for her that's stronger than blood."

"But that's what doesn't make sense," Jace argued. He didn't know why he was arguing, it wasn't that he disagreed with Isabelle. "There are Shadowhunters with faerie blood but the Shadowhunter blood is dominant. The faerie blood only makes a difference in appearance. And Jaci doesn't look part Fey."

Isabelle shrugged and moved a little further down the shelf to help look. "She's pretty enough."

Jace let out an impatient sound as he roughly snatched a book at random. "She's not faerie pretty. She's… she's Jaci. She looks like Jaci." She looks like an angel, he thought.

"Well, it doesn't matter how the Queen thinks she gets Jaci," Isabelle stated. "If we can find a way to beat out her claim, Jaci's free. And we can do that."

"We will do that," Jace corrected.