Chapter Twenty-Four

Isabelle

Tempers had been running high in Malachi's household since the invitation Valentine had kindly presented him to his house. Malachi had been honored, of course, and assured him they would all attend, but the moment he'd come home, he'd had a stern talking to with both Isabelle and Alec. He warned them that should they make a fool of him in any way, he would seem them both lashed to within an inch of their lives. Isabelle had found it rather amusing to see his face change color so drastically, and Alec hadn't really thought much of it all. What could be worse than what was already done to him?

Since then, Malachi had gone on a rampage, demanding Isabelle perfect her dancing. He had ended her music lessons short and sent her marching up to Emma. Alec had suddenly found his performance at school under close inspection, and he noticed that his instructors were watching him much more closely than usual. It seemed as if Malachi was intent on hammering out any imperfection up until the very last minute when Isabelle and Alec came down, dressed for the evening in formal dinner clothing.

Malachi took one look at Alec, shrugged as if there was nothing better he could do, then took his time dissecting Isabelle's outfit. "Why didn't you wear red, my dear? It's so much more flattering."

Isabelle had chosen a black, halter dress that clung to every one of her curves, and synched right at her bust. "I think I look fine like this," she sniffed. "I mean, black is the color of shadowhunters, isn't it? I'm still allowed to dress like a shadowhunter, aren't I?" There was a bite to her voice that made Malachi narrow his eyes.

"Careful, missy," he warned, but said no more; obviously, he thought that looking like a shadowhunter was important when dealing with Valentine Morgenstern. "Now, you two are going to be on your best behavior tonight, is that understood? I want you to be the picture of perfection. Alec, I'll have none of your…abnormality."

Alec snorted, unable to stop himself, at Malachi's description of being homosexual. "I'll do my best."

Isabelle caught his eye and winked just as Malachi said to her, "And you, Isabelle, Emma told me you're performing tonight?"

"I will be," she trilled, eyeing the small bag with her costume in it with dislike. "However, if you'd prefer I didn't, I'm all in support of that as well."

"You're dancing." He flicked his gaze between them. "I trust you two understand how important this night is. We're dining with Valentine Morgenstern; there is no greater man."

"We've met him before," Isabelle with tiredly. "Consequently, we've met his entire family, so there's really no need to go through the pointless introductions."

"Don't speak of that," he said sharply. "You knew Clarissa and Jace when you lived in New York with your traitor parents. As far as Valentine and I are concerned, that never happened and you never knew them."

Isabelle flushed. "Well, I'm sure Jace and Clary remember it, even if we don't."

"Watch your tongue, girl," growled Malachi, taking a step toward her. Alec placed a hand out carefully, pushing Isabelle back a bit. "I can just as easily leave you here and you can forget ever seeing your friends again."

And you can forget ever marrying me because that plan is about to go to hell, Isabelle wanted to shout back, but instead she forced her lips into a very painful smile. "Of course."

"Good, now follow me you two, and only speak when spoken to." Malachi turned in a flurry of his cape and stalked out of the house, looking preoccupied.

"May I?" Alec asked, and held out his arm like a proper gentlemen. Isabelle smiled up at him and took his arm. As Alec led her out, he bent and whispered in her ear, "This is it, you know. After tonight, we'll be free."

"We can't run yet," Isabelle said softly. "Jace is going to visit with Luke and Magnus and Simon tomorrow. He'll free them then, and then, when they make their escape, they'll come get us, and the lot of us will go after Jace and Clary."

"It's not even a day," Alec said with excitement. Clearly, the thought of being free of Valentine and Malachi, and having Jace back as his parabatai, was an encouraging thought. "This time tomorrow, we'll be on the run, plotting Valentine's down fall."

I'll see Simon again, she thought hopefully. "Suppose we better make our last night good then."

They rode in silence to Valentine's home, Malachi every now and then breaking it with a last word of advice. Isabelle dearly longed to give him a solid kick, but she supposed a proper lay doesn't do that. The closer they got, the more her anticipation mounted, and when they turned up the hill that led to his home, Isabelle shivered in the same way she used to before a fight.

Their carriage pulled up before the large house and Malachi turned to them with one last, "Best behavior," before throwing open the door and stepping down.

Up the steps they went, admiring the fine architecture and the lovely lawn displays, and finally, the huge wooden door that had a knocked carved like an angel. That's a bit much, isn't it? Isabelle wanted to say. Really, you think the Angel thinks it's an honor, being a door knocker? But her thoughts were cut short by the door being opened and a stream of yellow light pouring out to greet them.

"Welcome," said a bored drawl Isabelle knew only too well. "It's a pleasure to have you."

"We're honored," Malachi said, not really caring what he said to Jace. He was, after all, only Valentine's little runaway. He crossed the threshold with a look of poorly contained pleasure. "Tell me, where is Valentine?"

"In the sitting room," Jace said with a smirk, as if this should be obvious to him. "Through there, if you'd like."

Malachi barely noticed Jace but instead made for the room. Though both Isabelle and Alec were required to follow him without a word, Jace drew in behind Alec and relished the closeness of it. Isabelle dared a quick glance back and in her look she hoped were all the things she most wanted to say.

I love you, Jace, you're my brother no matter what Valentine says, and I love you. We're all going to get out this together. He smiled blandly back and she knew someone must have been watching.

"Malachi," said Valentine's even, polite voice. "And you brought Ms. Isabelle and Mr. Alexander, what a pleasure."

Isabelle blinked as she took in the magnificent proportions of the sitting room. The walls were soft yellow, the wooden floor covered in thick carpets, great windows looking out over the glassy lawns, a grand piano in the corner, many bookshelves, and a huge hearth that contained a merrily popping fire. She had been so busy looking around that she had forgotten who would be in the room. Isabelle finally tore her gaze from the intricate design painted on the ceiling to see that Clary was seated in a lovely yellow gown that fit her very nicely on the window embrasure. Their eyes met and she smiled politely, but her eyes with very bright with a secret light.

"Well, I thought they might have earned a bit of time away from their studies," Malachi said easily, as if he hadn't only brought them because Jocelyn had asked it.

"Clary missed her friends so much," said Jocelyn easily, gesturing Isabelle and Alec in, "that I just couldn't bring myself to stop them from seeing each other."

Isabelle beamed, wanting to laugh in Malachi's face saying, The only reason you're here is because Jocelyn likes me and Alec, but she held herself back and tipped her head in thanks. "It's been so strange without Clary and Jace around. I've become so used to their company that not having them there all the time has been…empty."

"Understandable," Jocelyn agreed. "Please, have a seat, and Clary, come away from the window." Clary rose and had only taken a few steps when Jace came to her side and escorted her into a cushy seat with him. Jocelyn laughed. "I swear, Clary's been sitting in that seat since the sun went down, waiting on you."

Malachi laughed loudest, as if Clary had been waiting for him, and then fixed Jace with a quick look. "So, I would think congratulations are in order, no? When will you two be celebrating your happy day?"

"Not for a while," said Valentine without even looking at Clary or Jace. "Clarissa is in need of training and she's hardly in shape now to get married. I want to make sure Jace gets a proper shadowhunter wife in his marriage."

A small crease formed between Jace's eyes when Valentine had said a proper shadowhunter wife; it must have been ironic to everyone in the room since Isabelle, a proper shadowhunter since her first hunt, was being forced into a subordinate role. "I'm not marrying a shadowhunter, I'm marrying a woman," Jace said, his eyes gleaming.

"Maybe he thinks," said a very smooth, rich voice, "that if Clarissa marries you, she'll be too busy to ever go back to her training?"

"Jonathan," said Jace, as if he'd been thinking he wanted nothing more than this other boy in the room. "I'd never thought of that, though I'm sure Valentine knows I want nothing more than Clary's happiness."

"Her happiness is training?" laughed Jonathan, sweeping into the room and taking a vacant seat near his father. "Clarissa, I never knew you for such an astute young woman."

"I hope you'll get to know me for many things in the future," she said with equal verve.

Jonathan lifted his glass. "I plan on it."

"My children," said Jocelyn, as if they had driven her mad. "They've barely known each other three months, and now look at them, thick as thieves."

"You have a wonderful family, Valentine," said Malachi. "You must be proud."

Isabelle doubted very much is Valentine had anything to be proud of. His wife had left him because he had poisoned her son with demon blood, and wanted to stop him doing it to her daughter. He had watched all his friends and allies either die or betray him. He had stolen Jace from whoever his parents were and treated him horribly. He didn't even have the love of his son, because Jonathan couldn't love.

What do you have to be proud of, Valentine Morgenstern? All the people who hate you now? Is that what you like thinking about every night you go to bed? Isabelle saw him flash a grin. Or are you in such denial that you can't even begin to imagine a world where no one thinks of you?

"I've always wanted a family, and though certain events took them from me once, I doubt they'll ever do it again."

There was something awfully chilling in Valentine's voice. Isabelle felt like he had made some oath to the devil himself to keep his family at his side. We'll see who you keep once the rebellion starts.

"Well," said Valentine, clapping his hands together. "Shall we start dinner?"

Clary

It was hard to keep a civil tongue with Valentine when all she could think of was that smug look on his face every time he glanced toward Isabelle or Alec. He enjoyed punishing Robert and Maryse's children because they had refused to join him, and he enjoyed seeing Isabelle and Alec brought so low. He could care less who or what Malachi did, all he cared for was seeing that the Lightwoods suffered.

I suppose we'll see, won't we? Clary thought viciously.

"Did you eat something bad, Clary?" Jonathan joked from his seat beside Jace. "You look like you might be sick."

"Just been a while since she's had such a large meal," Jace supplied easily, while under the table, he squeezed her had tightly. "Her training keeps her so busy she barely has time for a proper meal, let alone a feast like this."

Clary sighed in relief; Jace was going to have to mind her all night if they wanted to get through his without being caught. "Alec," she said loudly, "how is school? I keep hearing all these great things from Aline, but it's just talk."

"Alexander is doing very well," Malachi said as Alec opened his mouth to speak. "He's in the top of his class, I'm impressed."

"I'm not," Jace said in a bored tone. "I've seen Alec fight before; I'd think he'd be the best there."

Clary beamed at Jace and Alec flushed; she knew how much it meant to Alec to hear Jace calling him good. "I'm not that good, Jace."

"Then I'm biased," he said charmingly. "What do you learn in those classes? They can't be teaching you something you don't already know."

Alec shrugged carelessly. "Mostly book work, history, memorization of demonology."

"What about actual training?" Clary piped up, her eyes resting on her father for a moment.

"We practice," Alec hedged, "but we don't have much to practice with demons since they're gone now."

"Then what do you do?"

"We spar with each other," he said, and then caught Jace's eye.

"Like back at the Institute?" Jace asked, earning himself a dark look from Valentine; Valentine hated when Jace discussed his past before coming to live with them in front of Jocelyn. "Do you remember when we-"

"Jace, please," said Valentine with a taxed smile, "don't discuss such things at dinner."

Jace smiled, but it looked more like a grimace than anything else. "Sorry, Father."

"I was a bit surprised, Valentine," said Malachi swiftly, "when Alexander told me that Clarissa and Jace were not enrolled in the Academy."

"It's unnecessary," said Valentine with a look at Clary over his wine glass. "Jace has learned as much as he could, and sending him for training is pointless. As for Clarissa…well, I have a different method of teaching and it has proven most successful in the past."

"Would you not wish to implement that training in the school if it was so successful?" Malachi wondered.

Here, Valentine's mocking eyes found Alec. "I do not think it is a form of education suitable for all. There are many young adults and children who do not possess the wherewithal that my children do, and I do not think it will benefit the public in general. I hope that in future we may return to the old ways of training, before we established the Academy, when shadowhunter apprentices learned at the feet of one mentor, but that is long down the road…"

"I think many would benefit from such a personal touch, Valentine…"

Clary quickly lost track of the conversation, and, instead, found herself playing with her fork at the table. Valentine and Malachi's talk of policy was more boring than the statistics class Clary had once found herself in high school. At least there she could push buttons on her calculator. When she looked up from her plate, she found Isabelle's dark eyes on her, and she had a poorly repressed smile on her face. Lazily, she winked at Clary, and Clary grinned back.

Beside Isabelle, Alec was sitting looking very attentive to the conversation, but his entire body seemed shifted ever so slightly toward Jace, as if gravity were pulling the two of them together. Jace had the same posture, looking so engrossed in Valentine's talk but really concentrating his attention on Alec.

It won't be like this for long, Clary thought. Because soon I'm going to free the both of you from Valentine and join you back together. You won't have to worry about Jonathan anymore, Jace, and Alec won't have to look so broken.

Clary's gaze flicked over to Jonathan, who, like her, was playing with his fork. She was a little surprised that of everyone in the room, it was only her and Jonathan that were behaving in the same, bored manner. His face even had the same, dull, careless look, like he was daring Valentine to reprimand him for his inattention. Against her will, Clary found herself smiling at his daring.

It's too bad you're a monster, Jonathan. I think we might have liked each other.

Dinner finished with a very moist, very large, chocolate cake with ice cream. Clary, who hadn't been given a proper meal in too long, dug into hers and relished the taste of cool chocolate on her tongue. When she looked up from her bowl, Valentine's eyes were on her, looking mildly disgusted.

"Carful, Clarissa," he said with that steely, fake father voice, "you'll give yourself a headache eating something cold too fast."

Deliberately, Clary stabbed the cake and shoved a piece in her mouth. She heard someone snort, though it might have been a cough, and looked to Jace. His face, though, was blank, and she realized with shock that it had been Jonathan. He caught her looking his way and raised one eyebrow curiously before slicing a delicate piece of cake and chewing it thoughtfully.

"I heard," said Jocelyn after taking a sip of coffee, "that you're a dancer now, Isabelle."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," she said with a demur little look at the table. "I've been practicing, though, and am mildly capable of a few small things."

"I look forward to seeing you dance tonight," she returned warmly. "I wanted Clary to take lessons, but…" the end of the sentence hung in the air in a horrible way.

"I completely understand," said Isabelle very seriously and Valentine looked at her with mild shock. "She's really too clumsy for such a thing."

Jace started laughing and had to bow his head. "I'm not that uncoordinated!" Clary said with mock indignation, but she was smiling too. "I expect to see some amazing feats of grace and flexibility tonight, then."

Isabelle gleamed at her. "Oh, you will."

The meal finished shortly and Isabelle excused herself with a look of mild disgust to go change into something more appropriate for dancing. Clary and Jace offered to clear the plates away like diligent children and Valentine and Jocelyn led the rest into their music room, which had been cleared earlier that day for Isabelle's performance. In the kitchen, Clary dumped the plates into the sink with little care.

"You have a stele?" Clary asked Jace at once. "Please tell me you managed to get one."

"We'll have to be quick if we don't want to get caught. I took it from Jonathan's room." Jace flicked a stele out and offered it to Clary.

She took it and, with a provocative look at Jace, shoved it down the front of her dress. "You stole from Jonathan? You're braver than I thought, or crazier."

"I was in his room looking for something to wear since I'm stuck in his hand-me-downs," Jace said, distracted. "Why exactly did you just put that down your dress?"

"Who's going to look there?" Clary asked in return. "Come on, I actually want to see Isabelle dance."

Jace had a wicked smile on his face as they made their way up to the music room and took their seats near Jocelyn. Jonathan's gaze roved over them, as if he knew they were up to something, but then passed on as if it meant nothing. Alec was seated near Malachi, and the seat next to him was open, so Jace snatched it and traded a meaningful look with his brother. When Isabelle poked her head into the room, Clary noticed that her hair had been pulled back off her face and neck, and she looked slightly uncomfortable.

"So, is there enough room?" She sounded like she hoped there wasn't.

"Plenty," Malachi said in a grisly voice. "Come dance for us."

It must have taken quite a bending of her will to get Isabelle into her costume. It was a white dress, completely white, with a fitted bodies and fluffy, iridescent white skirt that blossomed from her hips like a lily. It fell just short of her knee, and Clary was reminded of the romantic pictures she had seen of ballerinas stretching at bars or pointing their feet.

"I thought ballerinas danced on their toes?" Clary asked over the stifled giggles of Alec and Jace.

Isabelle glowered at her brothers. "I need more training, a few years before I'm allowed to dance en pointe. Shut it!" she ordered Jace and Alec, and a quick, dark look from Valentine brought them both under control. "I'll be dancing a small piece from Swan Lake. Odette's Variation."

"Oh, Valentine, can't Clary take lessons too?" Clary heard her mother say in his ear. "I know she'd love it, and think how beautiful she'll look."

Clary doubted very much whether she would look beautiful in a great skirt that would consume her petite body. Isabelle's got the build of a dancer, at least.

"Please, begin," said Valentine gracious.

Isabelle went over to the record player in the back of the room and set the disk to spin. There was a pause while they heard the low hum of the disk, then the faintest sound of a instrument being played issued out into the room. It was soft at first, barely a note or two, then Clary heard a sound like music being played in a waterfall of sound.

Isabelle, she noticed, was standing very still, one leg crossed behind the other, waiting. At the right note, she burst into life, rising up on the balls of her feet and kicking her leg into the air. As the music progressed, she went through the fluid motions of the Swan Queen with the grace of a shadowhunter. Clary thought Isabelle looked lovely, though a little stilted for a dancer, and thought, also, that whoever her instructor was, she was a smart woman. Odette's Variation was very repetitive, and though it required a certain level of flexibility, balance, and stamina, Isabelle training could get her though it. Clary also doubted very much that she would have been able to replicate such a piece with only two months of training. When Isabelle suddenly threw her leg back into an arabesque, Clary felt her own muscles smart at the stretch, and when the music picked up, and Isabelle began to turn across the floor delicately, she knew such a thing would have rendered her too dizzy to continue.

Finally, after the music reached a crescendo, Isabelle came turning out of chaines, and struck a final, slightly wobbly arabesque, before sinking to the floor in the classical swan pose. Clary stood and applauded, her mother at her side.

"Isabelle that was beautiful," Jocelyn said, looking meaningfully at Valentine. "Please, Valentine, I think Clary would really benefit from such lessons. It would improve her balance, body awareness, grace…"

"I don't think our daughter is quite ready for that time commitment." Valentine's gaze flicked over Clary, appraising her like she was a piece of art. "Clary has too much to learn, but, it was a nice performance all the same Ms. Isabelle."

Isabelle bowed a little clumsily and when she came out of it, she looked flushed. "Thank you, it was but a rough performance."

She looked tired, her chest rising and falling in the tightly laced bodice, and Jocelyn stirred, waving at Clary. "Take her to your room, Clary, help her clean up."

"Yes, Mother," said Clary, her eyes down, and then stood and directed Isabelle from the room. The moment they were a few feet away from the doors to the music room, Clary rounded on Isabelle. "We'll have to go fast."

"Do you have the rune?" Isabelle looked over Clary as if she had it on her person. "How did you make it?"

Clary shrugged, arriving at her door. "I don't know…it just came." She threw open the door before anyone could follow her and then closed it with a snap. "Make yourself comfortable."

Isabelle glanced around the room, and found that it was frighteningly similar to the ways Jace's room had been. It was ordered, clean, the bed made, books organized by the last name of the author, her clothes sorted and tucked away. It must have been Valentine's influence, his domineering ways, that kept them ordered.

"Can you help me with the back of this thing?" Isabelle asked testily, anxious to have her freedom back.

"Stand still, I'll mark you on your lower back so no one will see it," Clary said, pulling the laces loose and watching Isabelle slither out of the dress. Carefully, Clary flicked the stele out and placed the flat of her palm on Isabelle's back. "I'll show you how to make it so tonight, you can mark Alec."

"Good idea," said Isabelle, waiting, shaking. "I didn't know how we could have snuck him back here. Hurry, I hear them moving!"

"Patience," said Clary, and felt herself sinking down into that realm where the rest of world could fall away. She saw only the creamy, white back of Isabelle and felt the stele in her hand like a paintbrush. She pushed the tip against Isabelle's back and heard that rattle of breath when the blade cut in.

I won't be bound to Valentine by his hate and his anger and his fear. I won't stand by while he tears this world apart. For some reason, Clary saw a flicker of Jonathan's snorting face that night at dinner. I won't let him turn everything good into nothing.

She looked down at the mark she had drawn on Isabelle's back. It was a beautiful. She thought it looked like the petals of a blossoming flower, all curling, twisting, turning lines. It had Clary in the mind of spring, when the flowers open up and the sun brushes their petals for the first time.

"H-how do you feel?" Clary asked uncertainly.

Isabelle was quiet for a long moment, then, she cleared her throat. "I fell…light."

"Light?"

"Airy, free, like I could fly," Isabelle said with a giggle. "Clary, what did you do?"

"I don't know," she said emptily, still staring at her mark. "Are you free?"

"There's no way to know," said Isabelle, turning about and smiling at her with a glowing face and mischievous eyes. "But I certainly think so."