"You want me to let you borrow the key to my apartment?" Magnus didn't sound amused.

I kept my face calm. "I left a bag of my stuff there," I explained.

He sighed but handed me a small key and I was on my way. Except something was nagging at the back of my mind.

Oh, right. Valentine's ship. Was that where Jace had run off to? There was a part of me that wanted to check but I reminded myself that I'd already done enough poking around in Jace's life and that I really should never do any more. Ever. Again. So I only went to Magnus's apartment, grabbed my bag I'd left there and the copy of City of Ashes Jace had managed to snag and left again only after taking a moment to redraw the runes for a glamour on my arm.

I could've said the runes aloud, but the glamour wouldn't've been as strong. That was the weird thing about this whole speaking-silent-languages, well, aside from all the other weird stuff. Some of the things I could do with runes worked better than using a stele but others didn't. And speaking the runes was a lot more complicated than just simply drawing them. An opening rune applied to a door would effectively open the door. In order for me to get the same effect, I would have to rattle off a paragraph. And it would leave me tired. Caelia had explained that to me; Shadowhunters draw on the strength and power of angels channeled through steles when they write the runes but in order to speak the runes, the power was channeled through me which took some of my own strength, too.

Whatever Valentine had been trying to accomplish, I think this particular experiment had failed.

By the time I was back to Luke's, the lights inside were all off, despite the fact that it wasn't that late. I figured that meant Jace wasn't back yet from wherever he'd run off to.

I let myself in and locked the door behind me, slipping Magnus's key into a pocket of his sparkling cloak. Apparently cloaks were in.

And then, in the dark, it occurred to me that there really wasn't a place for me to sleep. Luke was on the couch, Magnus had claimed the loveseat, Clary would be in the guest bedroom, and Maia was in Luke's room. Wonderful. I mean, I didn't feel like sleeping anyway.

Lies.


Jace had two stops planned for the evening. The first was the Institute. He needed to talk to Isabelle and he needed to pick up something.

It was extraordinarily easy to make it to his adopted sister's room without encountering any of the other inhabitants of the Institute. And fortunately, Isabelle was in her room.

"Jace!" she said in surprise. "I thought you were at Magnus's," she hissed in a much quieter voice.

"Luke's," he corrected. "And I was. But Jaci's there now so-"

"Jaci's free?!"

"Keep your voice down, would you?" He glanced up and down the hallway to make sure no one had heard. "And no, she's not. Not really."

"Did you talk to her about, well, getting married?" Isabelle stepped aside so that Jace could come in her room.

"Yes, we both said no."

"That's so romantic," Isabelle said sarcastically, throwing herself dramatically on her bed.

"But Jaci said something very valid. She pointed out that we're both seventeen."

She waited for him to continue. "So?"

"Isabelle, seventeen is less than eighteen. And you're sixteen."

"I'm completely missing your point here."

Jace just stared at her, trying to will her into understanding.

"Do you… want me to marry Jaci?" she asked at length. "I mean, she is really nice and everything, but I don't bat for that team and she only bats for your team."

He wasn't amused. "I'm being serious now."

"All right, then tell me what I need to do."


After getting everything settled with Isabelle, Jace had to travel to the roof of the Institute in order to get his motorcycle. It was late enough that everyone was already asleep.

Jace hadn't ridden a cycle since the weather had changed, and he was caught short by the icy wind. He shivered, glad that at least he had worn leather gloves to protect his hands, despite the fact that the rest of his body was freezing.

He knew it was an awful idea even before he'd decided to do it. Jaci was out of the Seelie Court for one night – the first night in months for her – but her visiting was a daily occurrence. He was glad to see her and all, but it was so strange with her feeling like they'd been apart for days and him feeling that it was only hours. It only proved to him that they had to get her away from the Fey permanently. In the meanwhile, Jace shoved aside his guilt at running out on her and focused on the task at hand.

He knew where Valentine was. He'd tortured it out of the demon he'd then killed and now he was on his way to snoop around and maybe even see what his father's plan was. It didn't take him long to find the ship the demon had told him about, it was after all the only ship on the river that shimmered with glamour.

He braked and drifted carefully downward until the bike touched down on the deck of the great metal ship. This was the one.

And it was a large ship painted entirely black, even the windows. Altogether, it gave off a rather threatening feel. Leaving the bike, he started a slow circuit around the deck, wondering if Valentine was even there.

But he figured the best place to look for Valentine would be inside. He found a door with two blacked out windows and tried the handle. It was locked. He drew an opening rune and the door swung open, protesting from years of disuse. Reaching for his witchlight, he stepped through the doorway only to have the door slam shut behind him, leaving him in complete darkness.

He pulled out his witchlight and it flared to life, illuminating the metal space he'd stepped into. But he wasn't alone. A cloaked figure stood just a few paces away from him with its back to him. The air was freezing cold and Jace had a terrible feeling about this entire situation. And then the figure turned around. It was Jaci.

She was dressed exactly the same as when he'd last seen her in a loose fitting white shirt with dark green leather-like armor overtop, sturdy but lightweight boots, and her flowing green cloak. In her hand she loosely held a dagger he recognized as his own. As he stared, he realized there was blood dripping of the blade and onto the floor… and that her white shirt was quickly turning dark red from a gaping wound in her chest.

Her lips twitched into a smile and a trickle of dark red stood out against her pale skin. "It- I'm sorry..." She took a step forward and sank to the ground, breathing shallow and quick. She was panicking.

Jace knelt beside her, filled with a terror worse than any he'd ever experienced. Jaci had almost been free, and now she was dying.

"Don't you dare!" he warned her, seizing a handful of her cloak to apply pressure to the wound.

"I'm dying." He could hear the fear in her voice and that made it so much worse. Jaci had stared death in the face – in fact one of the first times he'd seen her, she had been about to die and she'd been snarky and silly – not once had she been afraid. But now she was terrified and there was nothing he could do.

"No, you're not," he scolded, knowing it was a lie. It was too late, no iratze would work for her. He found he couldn't tear his gaze away from the trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth.

She drew one more ragged breath and then grew still.

"No!" As if shouting would bring her back. This couldn't happen. He put his mouth over hers, filling her lungs with his air, but it did no good. Her eyes stared lifelessly into the darkness. "Damnit, Jaci!"

Suddenly, her body convulsed and her eyes found his. They were a terrible, glowing white. And then Jace knew no more.