Chapter Sixteen

Jace

Valentine was looking down on Clary and Jace, his grey eyes impassive and his face blank, but for the small curve of his lips that were turned down. Whatever displeasure he was feeling, and Jace was sure it was quite a lot, he couldn't give it away, because Jocelyn had just come in behind him, and she took in the sight of Clary and Jace on the couch. She gave a horrified cry and scrambled to them, gathering them both up in her arms. Jace's heart gave a burst of hope; he could get Clary out.

"What happened?" Valentine asked over the sound of Jocelyn muttering to Clary.

"It was an accident," Jace began.

"Of course it was an accident," Jocelyn said angrily. She stood up and cupped Clary's face in her hands. "Look at you, you're in a horrible state. You should go upstairs at once and clean yourself up. Look these cuts."

"Clary really should," Jace agreed, ignoring the darkening of Valentine's eyes. "She fell, and I think her ankle is sprained; you should help her upstairs and into a bed so she can rest."

Jocelyn shot Jace a look, but he kept his face carefully blank, and she knew he wanted her to get Clary out of there. "Come on, Clary, I'll get you upstairs and get you out of this dress. Lean on me," she ordered, and Clary, with a look at Jace, allowed her mother to pull her up right and hobble out of the room.

Valentine watched Clary go in the protection of her mother's arms without a word, but as soon as they were out of ear shot he turned his attention, now unhampered, on Jace. "So, how did my daughter come to be in such a state?"

"We were ambushed," said Jace evenly. "Some kids from town thought it'd be funny to give Valentine's daughter a beating."

Valentine raised one eyebrow. "I suppose I will have to take care of that later, won't I?"

Jace shot him a furious look. "It's not her fault! They attacked us because of you, and the only reason I got her out of there was because Jonathan figured out what happened in time."

"So you admit to disrupting a meeting of the Clave, as well?" Valentine said, closing the door to the sitting room. "You're not winning yourself any favors with me by telling me these things."

"Yes, alright, yes," Jace spat. "It was me, it was all me. I was the one who got us into the fight, and I was the one who couldn't get us out of it. Please, Clary had nothing to do with it. She was just in the wrong place, at the wrong time. If anyone is to blame, it's me."

"It most certainly is," agreed Valentine. "But does all the blame rest on you? I think not."

"It does though," Jace urged, looking nervously toward the door where Jocelyn had taken Clary. "I was the one who was supposed to protect Clary, you said I was her escort. So punish me."

Valentine laughed. "I'm going to, but that doesn't mean I'll stop with you. I think Clarissa played a part in this, and I'm going to make sure she gets what she deserves."

"But-"

"Jace," Valentine hissed, and his voice was like ice. "Regardless of how much a role she played in it, she is not free of guilt."

"Listen to me-"

"Father?" It was Jonathan, and he slunk into the room, looking pleased at the sight of Jace so nervous on the couch before him.

"Jonathan," said Valentine evenly, eyeing his son with interest.

"If I may, I think I know a bit of the goings on between Jace and these children," he said, stepping up and shooting Jace a smirk.

You promised, Jonathan, you promised to help me, Jace thought frantically.

"When I arrived on the scene, it seemed that Jace alone, was involved in the fray. Clarissa was seated on the fountain, quite incapacitated, and Jace was fighting. I don't think Clarissa was much a part of it."

Valentine considered Jonathan's testimony, and then looked to Jace. "Little Clarissa was uninvolved?"

"I've been saying that," Jace said, exasperated but grateful that Jonathan kept up his end of the bargain.

"Your attitude is unappreciated," Valentine said shortly. "Tell me, Jonathan, what exactly happened."

Jonathan strolled toward Jace, his back turned on his father and had the most unpleasant grin on his face. You promised, Jace thought again, but Jonathan just continued his smirking. "I left the Clave, as you saw, because I sensed Jace's distress. I located Jace and Clarissa in the city circle, surrounded by a pack of unruly children. Clarissa looked as if she had fallen rather hard, and was on the ground while Jace was fighting-rather poorly, I might add-with the children. I joined the fray and managed to scare the others off, however, Jace had received a nasty blow to the side. A broken rib, I think."

"Nothing he didn't deserve," Valentine commented, and Jace knew he was in a great deal of trouble.

"Indeed. After, Jace looked ready to run for it, like a coward, but Clary was in a state." Jace's eyes narrowed at the lie. "I picked Clary up since Jace couldn't carry her, and convinced him that if he came quietly, you might show him and Clary a bit of mercy."

"Running away, Jace?" Valentine asked with an eyebrow raised. "I thought you cared a bit more about Clarissa than to leave her stranded in the street surrounded by those who might do her harm."

"I didn't-" Jace snapped his mouth shut suddenly. If he said Jonathan was lying, then Jonathan would tell the truth: he and Clary were to blame. Jonathan was just using this as an excuse to get him in more trouble. "I didn't mean to go, but Jonathan said he was going to-"

"So you're blaming Jonathan now?" Valentine rounded on Jace and Jonathan drew back, his grin wide and toothy. "He came to your rescue and this is how you repay him? I must admit, I never would have thought you were such a coward. I thought I raised you better than this."

Jace looked down at his feet. Don't argue, don't fight, just keep Valentine's attention on you. Remember Clary, remember Clary upstairs with the big bruise on her face. "I was…afraid of what you might say."

"You shouldn't have been worried of what I am going to say," Valentine chuckled, "you should be worried about what I'm going to do. You have displeased me, Jace, and in no small way." Valentine looked to Jonathan. "Would you care to hold your brother down for me?"

She's upstairs, safe with her mother…Jace reminded himself as Jonathan came up behind him. "What are we going to do?"

Valentine viewed Jace contemplatively. "What do you think he deserves for abandoning your sister and my daughter? For starting a fight in the middle of town? For being a coward?"

Jonathan placed his hands down on Jace's shoulders, and Jace could feel that strange tingling sensation he used to get with Alec, but this time, it was more persistent, more constant, like an annoying fly were buzzing around his head. Jace blinked, trying to force the sensation from his mind, but it just grew louder and more insistent, drowning out the noise around him. He felt Jonathan's fingers squeeze down onto his shoulders, and he knew he was speaking, but Jace couldn't hear what was being said. Frantically, he jerked away, out of Jonathan's grasp, and the world crashed back down on him.

"…a reminder of what happens to traitors in our family," Jonathan finished, looking pleased. "He betrayed our trust, Father, and what else do we have if not trust?"

"I couldn't agree more, Jonathan," said Valentine, and he looked to Jace, who seemed slightly confused. "What do you think, Jace, a fitting punishment?"

"I-I didn't catch-"

"He was too busy squirming around down there, Father, to be paying attention to us," Jonathan said smoothly. "But it's better this way. He doesn't need to know what's going to happen."

Valentine tipped his head in consent. "Take him out to the stables, Jonathan, and I'll go see what's in the weapon's room."

Jace watched Valentine go, considering what he had just said, but didn't have time to think it through much because Jonathan pulled him up to his feet. "There are you, little brother. Clary is going to go unharmed-for the most part-and you get to bear the brunt of the guilt, as you asked."

"Why did you tell Valentine I tried to run?" Jace demanded as Jonathan marched him from the house and into the fresh air.

"Because he completely ignored the fact that Clary was present in the fight; he was far too concerned with what a traitor you turned." When Jace tried to dig his heels in, Jonathan gave him a hearty shove. "Besides, I enjoy smirching your name, and you can bet Valentine is going to tell Jocelyn what you did."

"Really, getting back at your mom?" Jace sneered. "That's low, even for you."

Jonathan whacked Jace upside the head and he stumbled a few feet. "This isn't about making her miserable. It's about making you look like the worthless, pathetic boy that you are. She protects you from Valentine, but why would she want to if she hears you abandoned her daughter on the street?"

She's not going to believe that, Jace thought frantically. Would she? She knows I love Clary, and I'm sure Clary is telling her the truth even as we speak. "She'll forgive me. She's too much a good woman to let it come between us."

Jonathan snorted. "She cares too much about precious little Clary to care about you."

"I thought I was here for her to care about," Jace pointed out.

"For now," was all Jonathan answered, and then tugged Jace into the stables.

It was warmer in the stables, and the pleasant sounds of the horses were a small comfort to Jace who had always loved animals. For some reason, he felt that as long as he was in their company, nothing too horrible could happen. Nothing horrible ever happened between him and Valentine in public. Jonathan pushed Jace toward the tack room, though, and he placed a hand on one of the stalls.

"What are we doing here?"

Jonathan knocked his arm free and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Couldn't have you in the house for this…Jocelyn would hear."

"That's so promising," Jace growled, and then allowed Jonathan to direct him into the small room with all the supplies. He took a quick look around the room, wondering if there was anything he could use as a weapon, but the thought of raising a weapon against his parabatai turned his stomach and he slouched against the wall instead.

Jonathan eyed him curiously. "I'm surprised with you, Jace. We're all alone, you and I, and I've just embarrassed you horribly. You're just going to sit there and stare at me?"

"You know I can't do anything," Jace said in an offhand sort of way.

"I won't tell Valentine," Jonathan pressed, looking interested in Jace's reaction.

"Do you want me to hit you?" Jace snapped.

Jonathan smiled sweetly. "I'm just curious as to why you're not."

Jace dug his nails into his palms at the sight of Jonathan looking so pleased. "I'm not going to hit you."

"But why?" Jonathan pressed, drawing closer to Jace, a hungry look on his face. "You're not afraid of me, I know that. Do you think I'll take out my anger on Clary?"

He can't feel anything, Jace thought, keeping his face carefully averted. He can't feel the bond between us, at least not in the usual way. "I'm not afraid of you."

"I know," said Jonathan, and then his hand shot out and grabbed Jace's chin, jerking his face around. "Where's the anger?"

"Why do you care?" Jace demanded, slapping Jonathan's hand away. "What's it to you, anyway?"

"Because I want to know," Jonathan said simply. "I like you more when you're angry. You're like me."

Jace's eyes widened. "I am not like you."

"You think so?" Jonathan asked with a wicked light in his eyes. "You and I fight rather well together, don't we? When's the last time you had such a good time with Alec? You must admit he's something of a coward, and poor fighter, at that. You liked fighting at my side."

"No, I didn't," said Jace evenly, knowing that he had enjoyed it.

"You did," Jonathan pushed. "You can try to lie to yourself, but I know better. Besides, you and I, we have such a close bond, don't we?" His fingers brushed over the mark on Jace's arm they shared and Jace flinched from the touch. Jonathan chuckled. "Yes, I thought so."

Jace was saved responding by the sound of the door to the stables opening and Valentine's approach. When he entered the small room, Jonathan had returned to his side and Jace was glowering at him. "No trouble then?" he asked Jonathan.

"No," Jonathan answered. "He's been perfectly polite."

Valentine turned to examine Jace and that when he saw the length of black rope in Valentine's hands. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing at Valentine's hand, but he had an idea.

"This?" Valentine lifted it into the light and Jace's fears were confirmed. "I thought you knew your weaponry better than that."

"Electrum wire whip," Jace breathed.

"Correct," answered Valentine briskly. "And can you imagine why I have it?"

Jace bit his lip. "Because you're going to use it on me."

"Correct again, Jace," chuckled Valentine. "You're not half the fool you sometimes act. Now, though I suppose this may seem a bit extreme-"

"A bit?" Jace asked sarcastically. Without quick action of a healing rune, Jace would have permanent scars from the whip.

"-but what you did is unacceptable. You would have abandoned my daughter in the street if not for the arrival of Jonathan. You have shamed this family, and, as you know, there is swift retribution in the Morgenstern family."

Remember Clary, remember that you're the only thing that stands between her and that. Jace watched Valentine loosen his grip on the whip and it slapped the floor lazily. She never trained as a shadowhunter, she never learned how to suffer; you can't let Valentine go after her.

"This is going to be easier if you turn and face the wall." Valentine indicated for Jonathan, and Jace felt the other boy's hand grab both his wrists and lash him to a peg on the wall with a set of reins. "I might also suggest that you bite down on something so you don't bite your tongue off." Jonathan offered Jace a screw driver wrapped in a length of fabric from the work bench.

Jace tensed as he heard Valentine move behind him. This is going to hurt, this is going to hurt but not as much as it would if it were Clary. Valentine snapped his wrist and Jace felt the air vibrate by his face as he took a practice swing, marking his place. Just think of her.

Jace was still thinking of Clary when Valentine brought the burning whip down on his back.

Clary

"Mom, please, listen to me, you have to go get Jace," Clary pleaded while her mother forced her into the bathroom adjoining her room. "Mom!"

"Clary," Jocelyn hissed, slamming the door closed. "What do you expect me to do? Valentine isn't going to let me stop him punishing Jace, he'd just tell me that it was the only way to teach him a lesson."

"We're just leaving him?" Clary rasped when Jocelyn spun her about and began undoing the hook and eyes on the back of her dress. "You have to help him!"

"I can't!" Jocelyn said angrily, jerked the dress harder than she meant and making Clary stumble. "Clary, what were you thinking?"

Clary managed to free herself from her mother's grasp and she spun about to face her. She was shocked to see that Jocelyn was looking quite angry. "What was I thinking? It wasn't my plan to get attacked by a street gang! This isn't my fault."

Jocelyn frowned. "Why would you come home like this?" She tossed the ruined dress aside and took in Clary's muddled state. "Why didn't you and Jace stay away until you had time to recover? And why, why, would you call for Jonathan?"

"We didn't!" Clary snarled, and she covered herself with a towel before her mother saw the myriad of bruises on her body. "Why are you blaming us? Jonathan came for Jace, not because we asked him to! And he took us back here, he wouldn't let us leave."

Jocelyn sighed, and Clary was shocked to see how drawn she was. "Clary…I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" What did Valentine do to you? "What can't you do?"

"This," she said, gesturing at Clary. "I'm sorry, I really am, but I can't protect you from Valentine if you and Jace insist on doing stupid things like this-"

"Mom-"

"No, Clary!" she snapped. "Don't you understand? I can only protect you at the expense of Jace, and I can only protect him by giving you up. I can't keep watching you and Jace, I just can't."

Clary's shock registered on her face, and Jocelyn looked away sadly, but Clary found her voice. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Behave yourself," she said slowly and sternly. "Stop giving Valentine reasons to hurt you and Jace."

"We didn't!" Clary cried.

Jocelyn shot her a sharp look. "What do you want me to do, Clary? I can't fight him if you want me to protect you, I just can't. Valentine isn't going to let me waver between the two of you."

"But, look what he did-"

"I know that, Clary, and I am so sorry, but what would you have me do?" Jocelyn snapped, and then she waved her hand in a tired way. "Clary, go and clean up, cover up your bruises, bandage your cuts, and make yourself presentable. I'll go and see where Jace is." With that, Jocelyn turned and left.

Clary, standing in nothing but her underwear in the cold bathroom, sank onto the floor, trembling. Make yourself presentable. It was the same thing Valentine said to her. Make yourself presentable. Just hide all the bruises and cuts, pretend it didn't happen. Make yourself presentable. Don't tell anyone what happened.

It's not our fault, it's not our fault! Clary thought, feeling a small tear leaking down her face. Those people attacked us, and you're going to blame us just like Valentine did?

The thought of her mother turning on her left Clary slouched on the tile in the bathroom, staring at the wall absently. She had counted on her mother to be there for her, to help her, and to defend her. Now, abandoned in the house of her father, Clary didn't know what to do. She knew her mother was in a delicate position, but she had hoped so much that her mother might have been there for her.

"I'm sorry, mom," Clary whispered to the room, sobbing silently. After five minutes of miserable crying, Clary reached behind her and ran the water in the shower until it was steaming the room up. Carefully, Clary pulled herself up and into the bath.

Her entire body was sore, like she had been dragged around on the ground. Her ankle had swollen a little, and she knew it was sprained; she had a number of bruises all over her body from her fall, a few nice scrapes, and her lip had split open again. After she'd bathed, Clary stood before her mirror and assessed the damage.

It's not as bad as it could be, she thought, poking the bruise on her cheek. That's going to need makeup, though.

It took a bit of time for Clary to clean herself up and cover all the marks, but when she caught sight of herself later, covered up in a dress, she felt like she had somehow betrayed Jace. He was undoubtedly suffering, and he would bear his wounds to the world, and here she was, hiding it all. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and her fingers glanced over the bruise on her cheek.

I hate Valentine, she thought absently.

"Clary?" It was Jocelyn, poking her head around the door. "Come down stairs, it's time for dinner."

"Is Jace-"

"He's not joining us," she said stiltedly. "Please, come quickly."

Clary followed her mother downstairs and into the dining room. Valentine and Jonathan were absorbed in an important conversation, and it wasn't until Jocelyn cleared her throat that they looked up. Valentine's eyes landed on Clary, flicking over her scraped knees and swollen ankle, but he didn't say anything. Instead he rose and held a chair out for Jocelyn.

"I'm glad you could join us," he said formally to his wife.

"Where's Jace?" Clary asked the moment they had all sat down.

A muscle in Valentine's jaw worked and she knew she was provoking him. "Jace is unable to join us for dinner today, and will be tomorrow as well."

"Why?" Clary pressed, ignoring her mother's warning look.

"Because he disobeyed me," answered Valentine shortly. "He behaved in a manner not fitting of a Morgenstern, and I won't have him joining us if he can't act like us."

"But I-"

"Be quiet, Clarissa," Valentine said, leveling her with a very dark look. "I have heard about the incident at great length from both Jonathan and Jace. He has gotten nothing he did not deserve, and I will hear no more on the matter."

Clary opened her mouth, but Jocelyn spoke over her. "I didn't think the people of Idris were still up in arms. To think, they would have attacked a little girl…"

"It is unfortunate," Valentine agreed, "that it came to this. Very lucky Jonathan arrived when he did."

"Very lucky," Jocelyn confirmed, and her eyes found Clary's.

I won't say it. I won't say it! Clary fumed, feeling her father's eyes on her. He only came so he could punish Jace afterward.

"Perhaps a thank you is in order?" Valentine suggested, though it wasn't really a suggestion.

"For what?" Clary said insolently and Jocelyn cringed.

"Go to your room," Valentine said swiftly, rising dangerously from his seat. "Go to your room and stay there until I say otherwise."

"Fine!" Clary snapped, kicking her chair back, which only hurt her ankle and fueled her rage. "Fine! I don't care. I'd rather be up in my room alone, the company is better anyway!"

Clary knew, as she stormed from the room, that Valentine was going to punish her for that, and she knew she would regret saying it, but that didn't matter right then. What mattered was finding Jace and helping him. She stomped up the stairs, making sure everyone could hear her, and kicked her door open, tearing off her dress at the same time. She slipped into her pajamas before carefully testing her door and peeking into the hall. The coast was clear, and, as she listened, she could hear soft conversation floating up from below.

Like a cat, she crept down the hall to Jace's room and eased the door open. The lights were off, the room in shadow, but, by a stray moonbeam that fell through the window, Clary saw Jace's prostrate form on the bed. She turned and locked the door before flicking the lights on and joining him.

It wasn't a pretty sight. It looked like Jace had been dumped on his bed, semi-conscious, and then curled up in the blankets to cover himself. There was a sheen of sweat on his face and his eyes were moving back and forth frantically beneath his lids. She pulled the blankets back gently and saw blood staining the sheets.

"Jace?" she whispered, but he didn't stir.

Carefully, she pushed him a little on his side to get a look at his back, and she saw the lash marks. They were jagged gashes, ten jagged, angry red gashes. A few of the shallow ones were still oozing blood, but the deeper ones had fused shut under the heat of the whip and were blistering. Gently, Clary stroked the tip of her finger down one. It was hot, like he's been burned not cut, and Jace groaned in response.

"Jace?" she asked again, squeezing his arm a little. "Jace, please, wake up."

Jace murmured something indistinct and then rolled his face into his pillow. Clary sat, waiting, knowing that forcing him to wake up probably wasn't best anyway. She was just considering going to the bathroom for a wet wash cloth when he groaned aloud and his eyes opened. He blinked slowly, the room around him coming into focus before he saw Clary. When he did, though, he just swallowed and waited.

"What happened?" Clary asked, looking down at his back.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. Last thing I remember, I was tied up in the stables, and Valentine had just got up to number seven. I must have passed out…" Jace stirred, his back ignited in pain, and he fell back, moaning. Clary's hands shot out, running over his pale face. "Are you alright?"

Clary smiled sadly. "You're asking me that? Look at the state you're in, and you're asking me that?"

"I was worried Valentine might have come after you anyway," Jace said. "I was hoping he'd only punish me, but that doesn't mean Jonathan couldn't lie and-"

Clary kissed him fiercely, silencing his worries, and Jace relaxed a little at her touch. "He didn't do a thing to me, and you shouldn't have told him it was your fault. Look what he did."

"Better me than you."

Clary pulled back and saw that he meant it, and it scared her to think that Jace was so willing to suffer for her. She brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. "I'm going to get a wash cloth and scissors."

Scissors?" Jace asked, but the need became apparent when she returned and began cutting his shirt off.

"It would have hurt too much to try and take it off," said Clary, more to herself than Jace, and carefully pulled the strips of fabric that were clinging to the blood off. Jace's breath came out in painful hisses, but he didn't scream. "Can I heal these with a rune?"

"No," said Jace after a beat. "No, it's too late for these. Valentine used an electrum whip, the same as on your brother."

"Jace," Clary said, as the full meaning hit her, "Jace, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't think it would happen like this."

"Don't be sorry," said Jace, and prepared for Clary to start washing them.

It was much worse than Clary expected, as she wiped off the blood. The lashes were blistering and syncing together, like his skin was being pulled about. As she cleaned, Jace made small, whining noises into his pillow, and she knew it must have been horrible if Jace was in pain. When she'd finished, Jace lifted his head just high enough off the pillow to say, "Go under the sink…gauze…"

Clary hurried back to the bathroom, staring at her red hands, and dug frantically under the sink for the bandages. There was only one roll, and it was small, but she hoped it was enough. Since she'd never wrapped a wound before, Jace had to give her instructions through his gritted teeth, and Clary felt more horrible just to hear him. Once she'd finished, Jace slumped on his bed, breathing heavy.

"I'm staying here," said Clary decidedly. "I don't care if Valentine finds me; I'm staying with you."

She expected Jace to tell her no, that it was too great a risk for her to get caught, but to her surprise, he said, "Can you cover my feet with the blanket, they're cold," and then collapsed lifelessly on the bed.

Clary meticulously tucked Jace in, and he winked lazily at her, before she checked once more than the door was locked. She settled in his bed, just as he had done a lifetime when she'd been staying with Amatis, and linked her hand in his. He smiled wanly and she brushed his lips once more with a kiss before snuggling into his chest and waiting for sleep to find her.