Hey everyone! I just realized now that in the next week, I have three different exams to study for and probably won't be able to write a new chapter in that time. So, next week, there won't be any updates, however, you can expect one on the normal day the following week. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Thirty-Two

Isabelle

Maia's brown eyes darkened when she spotted Isabelle, practically glaring at her from the hallway. She tried to shift out of Isabelle's line of sight, but their eyes had met and it was only a matter of time before Maia had to face her. Isabelle put a hand on her hip, looking composed but ill-tempered, and felt proud when she saw the other girl bite her lip.

Maia knows Luke wants to leave us behind too? Isabelle thought angrily. Is everyone in on this but Alec and I? Her unhappy gaze fell on a few of the other werewolves now crowding into Magnus's small living area, and they balked at the sight of her. Good, she thought smugly, but still Maia wouldn't look her way.

"You keep that up and your face is going to stick," Alec said wryly, coming up behind her. He looked washed and ready for the trip back to Idris, and Isabelle felt a sharp reply on the tip of her tongue.

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't be too happy either if you were getting left behind."

Alec blinked, like he was trying to shake sleep off, and he might have been, given the early hour; the sun hadn't risen and the sky above the city was that inky blue that precedes the sun. "What are you talking about? They're not leaving you behind."

"You're right." Isabelle tried to catch Maia's eye again, but she had shifted behind a large werewolf. "They're leaving both of us behind."

"No they're not," Alec said sharply. "I was talking to Magnus yesterday and he was mentioning battle plans, camp locations-"

"Well, Luke thinks we're not in any condition for a fight," Isabelle said, and her eyes found the alpha, who was giving orders to his pack calmly. "After what happened the other day, he thinks we might be a liability."

"He said that to you?" Alec asked.

"Simon overheard him and Maia." Isabelle made sure to say the name loud enough for the other girl to hear, but she pretended not to notice the Lightwoods. "I'm out of practice and you're not fit."

Alec paled a bit but said, "I'm fit enough, and I'm not going to sit here and wait for someone else to get Jace back."

"Or our parents," Isabelle said softly, and she saw something in Alec flinch. "You think they're still alive?"

"Probably." Alec looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Valentine would want to keep them, just in case he needed to threaten us with something."

"I hope." Do you? asked a small voice in Isabelle's mind. Do you really want to see what's become of them now that they lost their runes? Would they want you to see them when they've had their birthright stripped away? "Where do you think they are?"

"In the cell where he kept us most likely," Alec reasoned, but started. "There's Magnus. Come on, we can ask him about all this nonsense."

As Isabelle trailed after Alec, she thought, You got lucky, Maia.

Magnus was pouring over a page in an old book, muttering to himself. As Alec approached he flicked his head, like he was shaking off a fly, and then held up a hand for silence. Isabelle saw that the page he was reading was covered in another language she didn't know, but the images displayed what looked like a very solid wall being blasted apart by a white light. She pictured the wall as Valentine's face and smiled just a little. After a moment, he sighed and gave his attention to the Lightwoods.

"We're being left behind?" Alec asked without preamble.

Magnus opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, thinking carefully. "Luke mentioned it might not be safe for you two, being underage-"

"I'm not underage," Alec said with flashing eyes.

"And I'm perfectly safe," Isabelle added for good measure.

"You two are not in any condition for a battle," Magnus said, closing his book. "I spoke with him, you know, on your behalf, but he's adamant. Personally, I don't think he wants to be responsible for more lives than he's already got."

"But it's our family," Isabelle pressed. "He's still got our parents, not to mention Jace! You can't expect us to just sit back here, waiting for news."

Magnus worried his lip. "What if you get hurt, then what? What good will it do your parents and Jace when this is over and you're dead."

"We're not going to be killed," Alec cut across him. "We have training."

"You're out of practice," said Magnus, but his heart didn't really sound in it. He looked over at Luke who was now trying to shuffle his pack into groups, according to what they would be doing later that night in Alicante. "You have to understand, he's not a shadowhunter like your parents. He thinks-"

"We're weak," Isabelle snapped.

"He thinks you're children!" Magnus threw his hands in the air, frustrated. "He thinks you're too young to be part of this war. He's not trying to say you're weak, he's not even saying he doesn't trust you. He's just saying you're too young to have to fight."

Isabelle half glanced at Luke and then glowered at Magnus. "But you can convince him otherwise?"

"Listen," Magnus looked tired and he seemed to appeal to Alec, who stared back, unyielding. "I can't make him do anything, and, consequently, he can't make you do anything. I think Luke wants you two to come with us, but to remain behind wherever we make our camp tonight. Maybe, if you keep your mouth shut and stop looking like you're going to tear his throat out with your nails, he won't notice until it's too late." His eyes were boring into Isabelle, who had never really considered something so underhanded.

You were raised as a soldier to follow orders, there's a chain of command and you follow it…Are you going to break it now? Isabelle couldn't deny that she had already been planning some sort of scheme to follow after Luke, but she hadn't really come to call it that.

"Won't he notice what we're doing?" Alec asked, and glanced at Isabelle.

"I think the only thing he notices is Jocelyn and Clary," Magnus said dryly.

Clary

Jonathan was walking along the ring of runes, pausing here and there, muttering to himself. One of his hands was out, his fingers might have been brushing a wall as he went, but she saw the muscles jump in his arm and know that it was taking considerable amount of energy and strength to keep his hand there. She followed him, barely daring to breathe, but all the while, considering her brother. He seemed unconcerned with her, lurking behind him with a weapon at the ready. In fact, he hadn't really even looked at her since he and Jace had made their agreement. She suspected that Jonathan thought she had fallen into line at Jace's command; he probably thought he had nothing to fear from her, that she was taking orders from her fiancé.

That's what Valentine thought about Jocelyn, and look what she did, Clary wanted to snap at her brother's smug figure. She helped the Clave stop him and ran off with the Cup and me. And doesn't Valentine always complain about me being my mother's daughter?

Clary thought of her mother, ignoring the pang of longing she always felt; she missed Jocelyn more than she cared to admit. No, she thought instead of how brave Jocelyn had been, how self-less, when she had been only a little older than Clary was now. If she was here now, she wouldn't be worrying about what Jonathan might be planning, because she'd be planning her own escape; she wouldn't let Jonathan know she was scared because she'd be too busy, making him wonder what she was thinking at all.

What are you going to run away with once you're free? Jocelyn took the Cup and Valentine's unborn child, what are you taking from Jonathan? Clary flicked her gaze over him, but Jonathan didn't seem to give a thing away. You'll take Jace with you.

It was a satisfying thought, and enough to get Clary through the rest of Jonathan's prowl around the boundaries of the land. When he seemed content with his exploration of Valentine's prison, he turned them back for home, muttering to himself, and only spared Clary one glance. She returned him a blank, empty look, one eyebrow raised as if she were interested in what he had found.

"Give me back that stele," he snapped at her, holding out his hand. "I shouldn't have let you hold it in the first place."

Scared? "What would you do without your little helper?"

Jonathan whipped the blade out of her hand and glowered at her. "The only reason I brought you along was in case I needed a rune here or there."

"Of course," said Clary blandly and then waited while he took the measure of her again and then turned on his heel, heading back into the house.

"You're watching the brat from now on," he shot at Jace as they entered his study and found Jace lounging in a large chair by the fire. His eyebrows lifted in surprise and Jonathan pointed to the side. "Get out of my chair."

"I've always found Clary to charming," he said smoothly getting up making him a mock bow. "Trouble in paradise?"

Jonathan didn't comment and Clary knew he didn't want to admit that she had unsettled him. "It's been done well."

"The runes?" Jace asked at once, his face losing that mocking smile.

"I didn't expect anything less than Valentine, though," Jonathan said disdainfully. "He didn't want us leaving, that's for sure."

"Always such a good father," Jace said, more to himself than anyone else, but returned his attention to Jonathan. "Think you can bring it down?"

Jonathan thought a moment. "There are weak spots, areas where the runes were done hurriedly."

"Does that make a difference?" Clary piped up and earned another dark look from her brother before he said. Rather snidely, "You should know, being the rune master, that runes are a work in progress. Draw them poorly, and they don't work at all-"

"But he didn't draw them poorly," Clary pointed out.

"No, but he did them quickly, and the runes' power will be effected by it. They are…unstable, in some places. And those are the places we're going to break through."

Clary looked over to Jace, checking to see if he believed it, but his face was impassive and gave nothing away. "How are we breaking through, then?"

Jonathan held up his hand and looked at her wearily. "How did I bring down the wards in Alicante?"

"I'm not an idiot," Clary said, flushing at his glimmering eyes. "So you can wipe demon blood on them."

"Precisely," Jonathan said, and now turned back to Jace as if he wanted nothing more to do with his sister. "Demon blood will destabilize them long enough that the three of us can slip through."

"Wouldn't Valentine have thought of that?" asked Jace, considering his father as a man who had known everything.

"No," laughed Jonathan. "He was the one who thought of my sneaking into Alicante and bringing down he wards. He was the one who gave me the demon blood in the first. He was the one giving the orders. Valentine doesn't think I'm smart enough to use what he's given me, and he wouldn't have planned for me to try and break his command."

Jace gave Jonathan a long searching look, trying to reach out with his thoughts through the connection they shared and see if Jonathan really was telling the truth. He got nothing but the usual dislike and thoughtfulness and was forced at admit that Jonathan wasn't lying.

"We'll go get our things," said Jace calmly, and signaled for Clary to join him.

"Well, hurry up," Jonathan called after them. "As soon as the sun goes down I'm breaking the wards whether you're there or not."

Clary came after Jace quickly as they headed up the stairs and caught his wrist. "Is this really going to work?"she asked. "Valentine must have realized that that Jonathan could do this."

"Jonathan doesn't think so," Jace said indifferently, wondering if they had any weapons that would be good in a fight. "It's going to be a long walk back to Alicante, though, so I wouldn't count us out of the woods just yet."

Clary followed Jace into their room and shut the door quietly. He set upon their few things, packing only one change of clothes each and then digging for any sign of a dagger. "I can make a portal," said Clary after a moment of thought. "I can portal us right to the city, right into our house."

Jace paused, a shirt still clutched in his hand. "I never thought of that," he said, dropping the shirt. "We wouldn't be able to shake Jonathan off, but it'd be worth it if we could surprise Valentine."

"He'd expect it about as much as the Magnus's flying truck," she said with a sly smile.

"It'll probably put Jonathan in a better mood, too," Jace chuckled, and then tossed the clothing aside. "Let's go to the kitchen, the least we can do is take a few knives with us, even if they aren't steles."

Back downstairs, they found Jonathan had already divested the kitchen of all its useful weapons and was waiting outside, watching the sun set on the trees. As they approached, he didn't move, but seemed to sense them and his shoulders slumped a little. Jace stood before him, Clary watching the exchange between the two shadowhunters closely.

"Clary says she can make a portal for us, right to the house," Jace announced.

"Glad to hear she can do something," said Jonathan, but his heart wasn't really in the snide comment. "Perhaps we shouldn't portal right into the house given that we'll be going up against Valentine with nothing but some cutlery."

"Oh, come on," said Jace, smiling recklessly. "It's not like he's going to have any way to stop us. Valentine is out of practice and I think you and I are more than capable of handling him."

Jonathan pursed his lips and Clary hated the way he eyed Jace, like they were familiar, like they were old friends, and he knew something about Jace no one else did. "He'll have Clary's mother," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm sure we wouldn't want to risk her life."

"Jocelyn's not defenseless," said Jace. "She was trained as a shadowhunter, she knows how to fight."

Clary doubted whether Jonathan really cared if their mother was hurt, and he smiled slowly at Jace's words. "I'm glad you think so."

"So, we portal into the house then?" Clary asked, trying to get their attention again.

Jonathan stood dusting off his pants and looking pleased. "Right on the front door then."

Simon

Magnus's portal had done the trick and brought them safely into the forest just outside Alicante. Here, the world was different than New York, and Simon knew which he preferred. It was a different time of day here, and the light was the fading sun trickled through the leaves of the trees, red gold and making the green of the trees fade. It made him think of a dying world, a world on the very brink of destruction. He switched his gaze back to the ensuing argument.

"We're going," said Isabelle, glowering at Luke who was looking harried and busy. "Alec and I are going into the city to find my parents. To find Jace."

"Isabelle, we've had this conversation," said Luke, and he glanced around for support. Magnus was too busy speaking to Alec, the two secreted away in a private corner of the field they were using as a camp. "You're in no condition to fight."

"Who cares about condition," said Isabelle, her eyes flashing. "This isn't about my condition, it's about my family and my friends, and about stopping Valentine from doing something awful."

"I care about your condition, Isabelle." Luke saw two werewolves speaking in low tones, shooting dark looks in the direction of the city and knew that they were considering attacking now. "Listen, if the fight goes our way, I'll send word and you and your brother can come in at the end, but we need you to stay out of the way. I don't want you two hurt."

Isabelle flushed my Simon moved then, placing a very cool hand on her wrist. She jumped, not expecting him, and in that time, Luke shot Simon an appreciative look and left to deal with the rowdy werewolves. Isabelle watched him go, and she like she hadn't given up the fight just yet.

"Simon!" she snapped t him, shaking his hand loose. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, getting ready for a fight?"

Simon laughed, unable to properly understand the girl in front of him. "You think I want to be part of this? You think I want to be involved in a war where I, or other people I love, could die?"

Her eyes glistened and Simon wondered if he might have hit a soft spot, but then she turned around, her hair whipping away. She stalked off, but Simon followed her, refusing to leave her, refusing to end another conversation on a bad note.

"Isabelle, come back!" he called after her, and her pace slowed. "Isabelle, wait."

"You don't understand!" Isabelle cried, snapping around to face him and grabbing his wrist in a powerful grasp. "You don't get it because you're a Mundane."

"Hardly," said Simon, and smirked, revealing his sharp, little fangs.

"You know what I mean," said Isabelle darkly. "You didn't grow up in this world, you don't know what it's like to live with death as a constant shadow, to know you could die any day."

"Why would you want that?" Simon demanded.

"I don't want it," said Isabelle practically, "but I've grown up with it. It's the only way of life I know, it's how I'm expected to live. Do you know what it's like to watch your friends and family go to war and have to sit out like a child? It's like-like a slap in the face. It's like everyone telling me I'm not good enough."

Simon barked a laugh and Isabelle narrowed her eyes. "Not good enough? Isabelle, I don't think I've ever considered you not good enough in anything. You're smart, you're funny, you're beautiful and passionate and so damned headstrong. No one thinks you're not good enough, maybe you're too good to lose."

Isabelle opened her mouth to argue, but whatever thought she had slipped away at Simon's words. "Everyone dies," she said softly. "You have to lose me one day."

Simon pulled her closer to him. "But why risk it now?"

"Simon," said whispered, taking a little comfort from the coldness of his skin, the way it cleared her head. "They're my family. I can't leave them."

"You're not leaving anyone," he said firmly. "You're giving them someone to come home to." Isabelle shivered at the words and Simon knew she was trying to think of another way to explain to him how important it was for her to be fighting, but he just shook his head. "Please, Izzy, stay back, stay and wait for your family, stay and wait for us."

"How can I wait to see if my friends come back alive?" she asked breathlessly. "How can you ask me stay here?"

"Because-" Simon broke off. Because you love her? Because she's become one of the most important people in your life? Because you don't know what's going to happen if she's gone? "Because this is the one thing I'm asking you to do."

Isabelle looked away, unable to hold his soft, brown gaze, and he saw her reserve faltering. He ran a hand through her hair and she dropped her eyes. "Fine," she murmured.

"Fine?" he asked, wishing he could stay here with her, holding onto her.

"I'll stay here. Alec and I will stay here," she said bitterly, and Simon lifted her chin and pressed a kiss to her lips. She relaxed just a little against him and Simon's arms came up around her, encircling her waist and clasped at the small of her back.

"Thank you," he said against her lips.

Isabelle lifted her eyes up to his. "Bring my brother back," she said blankly.

Jocelyn

Jocelyn rolled over and twisted the blankets up around her while she heard Valentine's feet come down on the floor and softly pad off to the bathroom. She closed her eyes, wishing that he would just keep walking, walking right out of the bathroom, and right out of her life. The sound of running water filled the room and she knew he was taking a shower.

I hope you drown, she thought maliciously. I hope you fall and smash your head open; I won't come for you.

Unfortunately, Valentine didn't smash his head open, and came out, toweling his hair dry. When he saw Jocelyn still curled up in the blankets he frowned a bit and tossed the towel aside. "Are you tired?"

Jocelyn peeked at him from the bed and glowered. "Not especially."

He came over, looking down on her, and she saw a muscle working in his jaw. Jocelyn knew she had been pushing him for a while, being boring and dull, refusing to rise to any of his taunts or provocations, and he wanted back the woman he married back. One cold hand reached out and lifted his chin up so she had to look up at him. Her eyes were flat and empty, and, unable to bear it, Valentine jerked her from the bed. Jocelyn fell to the floor in a pile of blankets and pillows, and Valentine took her arm and pulled her to her feet. Jocelyn stood before him in nothing but her underwear and straightened up, summoning her pride.

"You're hurting me," she said coldly, looking at his hand grasping her arm.

"And you me," he said smartly. "I told you I wanted my wife."

"Well, too bad," Jocelyn said swiftly, her eyes glinting. "You got rid of your wife when you got rid of your chil-"

"Silence!" he hissed, and tugged her closer. "Do you want them hurt? Is that what you want?"

"I want you dead," she spat and pulled relentlessly on her arm. He didn't let go and she slammed the palm of her free hand into his chest. He flinched a little, but didn't release her. "I want you to drop dead before me and then I'll go and find my children and take them and leave, and the Clave can leave you in the ground to rot."

"Not very kind of you," he said evenly and then threw her back down. "Put a robe on. I'm sure dinner is ready."

"It's been in the oven for hours, it's probably burnt," she said with relish.

"Then make something better," answered Valentine, looking for her robe that was draped over a chair. He threw it at her and she caught it, not bothering to even cover herself. "I can't image you do anything else in this house expect read cook books."

"Make your own dinner," she said spitefully.

"I'm telling you," he said in hard voice. "I wanted a shadowhunter for a wife, but since you want to be a Mundane, I'll oblige you. Now, go!"

Jocelyn stood up, feeling his will bearing down on her, and shrugged on the robe. "I hate you."

This made Valentine smirk, and he took a step forward and kissed her. "At least you feel something."

I'm going to get you back for this, she thought when she felt his lips on her. After a moment of allowing him to hold her, she shoved him back. "Don't touch me."

He smiled. "I find that rather difficult."

Before he could continue, Jocelyn spun around and left the room, her mind racing. She found her way down to the kitchen, and, as she expected, their previous dinner had been burnt. Thoughtlessly, she dug around the kitchen and found some left over fish from the previous night. As it warmed in the oven, she looked around the kitchen, thinking as always, that any of these knives would be the perfect weapon to stab Valentine's heart out with.

If he's dead, you're children go with him. Only he knows where they are and only he can free them from the runes, Jocelyn reminded herself. It wasn't an ideal situation.

After almost ten minutes, Valentine returned, and he was holding a bottle of wine up. "I thought perhaps this might assuage some of your bad mood-"

His sentence was cut off as a cry went up outside and from a far distance, an echoing bang was heard. Valentine and Jocelyn stared at each other a moment and then he grabbed the nearest knife from the counter, tossed the wine aside and rushed out of the door. Jocelyn was hot on his heels, a bread knife in her hand. Valentine had thrown open the front door and was looking out on the city, and Jocelyn could see that a fire was blazing into life down in the city circle.

"Valentine-"

"Go upstairs and wait in our room," he said tersely, and Jocelyn was physical pushed backward by his will.

"But-"

"Go!"

Already, there were people running toward the fire and she could see shapes moving, animal shapes. Her heart leapt. Luke, she thought desperately as she rushed back up the stairs. Luke.

Into the room, to the window to look down on the fight ensuing below, and Jocelyn was shaking with excitement. She saw the familiar figure of Valentine streaking down to join the battle and a small smile curved her lips. Her hand tightened on the knife and she wondered if she could break Valentine's command if he was otherwise so occupied, but before she could test the door, there was whooshing sound, and flash of bright light. And out of nothingness poured Clary, Jace, and Jonathan, all looking thoroughly flustered.

"Didn't I say not in the house?" Jonathan demanded.

"Didn't I say go to hell?" Clary snapped back and then noticed her mother. Both Clary and Jocelyn's mouth fell open as they stared at each other, and after a moment, Clary smiled ruefully. "Hey, mom."