Chapter Four
A/N: Thank you to Katie for reviewing.
The four abandoned their dinner and hurried to the very centre of the city, where the Gard, once proud and tall, stood as a pile of rubble slowly being rebuilt. It had not been anywhere near as badly disfigured as the houses that stood on the other side of the hill, but it had been an iconic building to target. When the highest tower of the Gard had fallen, another beacon of hope was shattered in the hearts of Nephilim.
They moved quickly towards the traditional meeting room of the Council, ignoring the strange looks they were given by passers by. Perhaps it was because they had not yet had time to purchase the clothes more regularly found in Idris and were, the majority, dressed in jeans and t-shirts. Or perhaps it was simply because, over time, each of them had become infamous in their own way.
It seemed, on first sight, like all the important officials on the Council were gathered together in this one room. It would not have been surprising for even Clary, who after just a few months of knowing Nephilim culture, was well aware of the government's love of running blind into threats like this one.
Jace pushed his way through the crowds, making way for Clary and her parents to follow. Jocelyn moved quickly, eager to know what had caused all this fuss, even as fear gripped at her heart as to what the message would contain. In her experience, messages in blood were never positive in nature.
With a great deal of effort, they reached the front of the crowd and were able to clearly see the offending mark. The blood did not form a written message, as they had expected it to be, but an image of a pair of wings, burning and broken.
"What is that?" Clary asked, furrowing her brow. She had not been familiar with the image, as her mother had, and so had not been able to identify it as quickly.
"They're wings, burning wings." Jace explained, but Clary seemed none the wiser for this information.
"Why would someone draw burning wings?" the young woman asked, still confused.
"It's a symbol, a hate symbol." Jocelyn explained, her voice distant, as if she were talking to someone not really there. "Those are faerie wings, the emblem of the Fairchild family. The fire represents the fiery stars of the Morgensterns."
"But it's destroying the wings." Jace pointed out. "The Morgensterns' symbol is destroying the Fairchilds'."
"Apt, isn't it?" Jocelyn responded, with a brief laugh that held no humour behind it. No one responded, but a collective sense of dread had descended upon them.
"It's a hate symbol against me." Clary assumed, clasping her hand in Jace's, but before she had even completed her sentence, her mother was shaking her head.
"Not you, darling." Jocelyn sighed. "Me."
"How do you know?" Jace questioned, frowning with confusion.
"I know." was the only response, for half a minute at least. Then finally she elaborated, burying her head in Luke's shoulder. "I've seen it before."
Clary cast a quick glance towards Jace, question clear in her eyes, then turned back to her mother. By the time she had considered how to phrase her question, she had seen the look on her step-father's face and decided against it.
"Who would do something like this?" she asked instead. It was a question that seemed less likely to upset her mother and was still relevant to the situation at hand, disguising the fact that she was trying desperately to change the subject. "Who would have any reason to hate us?"
"I've not lead a good life, Clary." Jocelyn professed. Her daughter often forgot the life her mother had lead as a young woman and how many had suffered because of it. 'Perhaps she was just trying to forget.' Jocelyn reasoned. She would hardly be surprised, having wished to do so so many times herself. "There are plenty of people out there who would hate me more than enough to deface a government building."
Jace, meanwhile, had bent down to take a closer look at the symbol. Some men in the corner, probably police officers of sorts, shouted at him to get away from it, but being Jace, he took no notice of them.
"The blood's human." Jace told Luke, who had moved closer as well, also trying to decipher the origin of the symbol. It did not seem as if it would be an easy task. "But there's a tinge to it. It's shining, like glitter; human blood doesn't do that."
"There's something else running through it." Luke agreed, running his hand through his hair in stress. The audience seemed to have grown larger now and half seemed to be staring at them rather than at the symbol. "But I can't make out what it is."
"Mr. Graymark?" came a quiet voice from behind the werewolf and he turned to see Aline Penhallow staring down at him. "My mother has called a meeting of the Council. Since this room is occupied, she's asked you to meet her at our house, along with the other Downworld representatives."
"I'll be right over." Luke sighed, glancing back towards his wife, who was now locked in her daughter's embrace. It seemed obvious to everyone present who had left the message and in light of that he did not really want to leave her, but it seemed that he would have no choice.
Aline nodded and walked away, probably to resume packing. Her mother, Jia, had finally made the decision to allow her daughter to live on Wrangel Island, where her girlfriend, Helen Blackthorn, had been exiled. She paused at the door, waiting for Luke to follow her, unsure if he knew the way to her home or not.
Luke sighed once again, shaking his head slightly, and turned to Jocelyn. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder as Clary stepped to the side. "Are you going to be alright if I go?"
"I'll be fine." she responded. They both knew that Luke could see right through her lies, but currently, neither could do anything about it.
"Are you sure about that?" Clary asked, unconvinced, after Luke had walked off after Aline.
"You can go, darling." Jocelyn responded, knowing that her daughter was intending to meet Alec and Isabelle in a restaurant in the centre of the city. Usually, she would have objected, but she was not going to deny her a chance to get away from all of this, not when that was what she so dearly wished to do herself. "I'll be fine on my own."
Clary frowned- it seemed that she too could now see through her mother's lies- but went all the same. Jocelyn was left alone, staring at the symbol painted on the floor of the Council chamber. It had been so long since she had last seen it and yet it was just as painful now as then, if not more so. For she was not alone anymore and if she fell, then those she loved the most would fall with her.
A/N: Please review!
