Hey everyone, sorry this is so late, but my exams took a lot more of my time than I thought. But, I passed them all, so that's good! Anyway, here's the chapter, and I think this one is almost done, too. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Thirty Three

Clary

See her mother standing in nothing but a loose robe, a look of disbelief on her face, and her hand grasping aimlessly for a weapon sent a shock through Clary, enough to shake off the nauseous feeling that had been gripping her stomach. It was like her feet hit the ground and gravity took control again. Clary felt very heavy, and the reason of her return crashed back into her, accompanied by a fierce anger.

"Where's Valentine?" she asked in a hard voice.

"G-gone," said Jocelyn, her eyes searching Clary's face. "There's been an attack in the city and he went to sort it out."

"An attack?" Jace asked. "Luke?"

"I can only assume so," said Jocelyn. "I take it he wasn't very pleased by their last meeting. Is that why you three have returned?"

"Valentine was planning on leaving us out there," said Clary, her eyes moving beyond her mother's figure and to the window beyond. She could see fire leaping in the night and shadows moving frantically about. "We would have died."

"How did you get away?" This seemed to be the moot point, and the one thing that Jocelyn had been holding back, and the one thing that hung in the air between them.

She thinks it's a trap, Clary realized. It's why she wasn't happy to see us. She thinks Valentine is trying to trap her.

Jace and Jonathan seemed to come to the same conclusion because Jace said calmly. "Jonathan managed to break the rune ring Valentine had drawn, just like he broke the runes of the wards. Then Clary drew a portal and…here we are."

Jocelyn's eyes snapped to Jonathan. "And why did Jonathan help you?"

Jonathan's dark eyes flashed. "I didn't have a choice. Thanks to Valentine's desire to keep you happy, he stuck me with this idiot." Jonathan indicated Jace standing at his side. "Can't leave my parabatai behind, can I? And he wasn't willing to leave your darling daughter." Jonathan looked very angry at having to bring Clary along with him.

Clary could almost see the information being processed in her mother's mind. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, but she seemed uncertain enough to believe them. "Why did you come here? Why not go find Luke?"

"Do you know where Luke was hiding?" Jonathan asked with a sneer. "Neither did we. It made the most sense to come here and hope we could surprise Valentine."

"And why would you want to in the first place?" asked Jocelyn swiftly.

"Because I don't appreciate being told I'm not good enough for Valentine's new order," growled Jonathan, but Jace nudged him.

"It doesn't matter why we came, does it?" Jace asked incredulously. "We're here to stop Valentine."

Jocelyn glanced at Clary, but Clary was already one step ahead of her. "I'm not staying here."

"Clary-"

"No," she said, looking mutinous. "I've got every right to be down there fighting."

"Your right doesn't matter," said Jocelyn, "you're safety does!"

Clary looked imploringly to Jace, who looked hopelessly to Jocelyn. "I can't stop her coming with me, and I get the feeling you can't stop her going."

"You said you'd protect her," said Jocelyn, glaring at Jace, and he wondered how he'd ever thought her soft. She could have given Maryse pointers. "You said you would do anything to protect her."

"I did, but I didn't say I was going to shield her from the world." Clary felt her heart beat a little faster. "She's a shadowhunter, not a Mundane, and she's perfectly capable of following me into battle."

Jocelyn bit her lip, thinking fast, but before she could speak, Jonathan spoke over her. "Well, don't expect me to be on your side. The only person I'm done with than Valentine is you." He was smiling a bit to himself. "Where does Valentine keep all his spare weapons?"

"But you can't," she said, ignoring Jonathan and looking between Jace and Clary. "Just stay here, let the werewolves deal with Valentine. Already, his soldiers are failing him; shadowhunters are fighting his summons with all their might."

Clary merely stared at her mother, doing her best to set her resolve. "I'm going to fight."

"Jace, come with me," Jonathan said when Jocelyn still hadn't answered him. "We'll need at least one sword if we plan on killing him."

Jace glanced between Clary's cold face and Jocelyn's pleading eyes and knew he'd rather be anywhere than there. "Right," he said quickly. "Clary, I'll be right back. I'm going to get some…" But Clary didn't spare him a glance as she engaged in a staring war with her mother.

Jace and Jonathan left and Jocelyn seemed to realize she was wearing a robe. She closed it and fiddled with the tie. "You should stay here. You don't have proper training, you hardly have training at all."

"I've got a stele, and can do almost anything with it," she answered victoriously.

"I'm not saying you're not gifted, but you're not ready for something like this." Jocelyn gestured out the window. "People can die."

"Because the last five months have been so easy?" Clary demanded. "I think, after everything I went though, I earned the right to this."

"It's not safe," she said in a tight voice.

"It never was," Clary said, and her voice softened. "I was never safe to begin with, and I'm not hiding from that anymore."

"I was trying to protect you," she said urgently, as if this was an important point. "I took you away from all of this to keep you safe. I didn't want this for you."

"I'm not angry," Clary admitted, knowing that she wasn't. "But this isn't something you can hide from."

"Clary, please, stay here." Jocelyn took a step closer and Clary backed up one. "Jace can go, I've got no doubt he'll be able to handle himself, and Jonathan can…" Her face closed off at the mention of her son. "Don't go."

"I'm not leaving Jace, especially not with Jonathan," she said, and she knew that if she left them alone, if she let Jonathan and Jace leave her sight, Jonathan was going to do everything in his power to take Jace away. It was clear to her now that Jonathan enjoyed the presence of another person, any person, who might empathize with him, and he was going to be keen on losing him. "I can't leave him."

"Clary, he'll come back-"

"No, it's not like that," said Clary thoughtfully. "I'll explain it later, but it's not safe, leaving Jace and Jonathan alone."

Jocelyn studied her daughter. "There's nothing I can say to change your mind, is there? There's nothing I can say that will make you stay here is there?"

"Not really," said Clary sadly. "I'm going with Jace no matter what he says too."

"Well, at least it's not just me that you're unerringly stubborn to," sighed Jocelyn.

Behind her, Clary could hear the return of her brother and Jace, and felt a sweat break out on her palms. It was almost time. "I'll be fine, mom."

"I hope so," said Jocelyn listlessly. "I hope so."

Jace and Jonathan returned, and the scene before them was almost other worldly. On one side, standing in the warm glow of the crackling fire in the grate, stood Clary. She was bathed in orange light, and it made her skin, eyes and faint runes on her arms glow fiercely. She had stood up to her full height, and looked impressive in her determination. Across from her, had bowed to the inevitable, was her mother, pale in the faint light from the burning city. Her hair fell in her face, her eyes were bleached of color. Resolve and resignation, staring across the room at each other; both unmoved by the arrival of two onlookers. Clary was young and ready to fight, Jocelyn was tired and wanted peace.

"You ready, Clary?" Jace asked tentatively, looking between the two women.

"I think so," she said, her chin lifted. When she turned to face Jace, he saw a flash of hardness, and for a moment, recognized Valentine there, fierce and unafraid. "Did you find weapons?"

"Enough," said Jace rather dismally, and he handed her a pair of knives. "You'll have to stay at my side. I don't care how much training you've got, I'm not leaving you in the middle of a war with two daggers."

Clary nodded and peered over his shoulder to where Jonathan was waiting, looking out on the burning world below with a hungry light in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

Simon

So this is what war is really like, Simon mused while he crept carefully forward in the alley that opened onto the city circle. It's a lot less messy than the movies make it.

Before him, the fray of battle was at its height, but the people didn't seem as consumed by madness as he thought they would be. There was order to the charges of the werewolves, and careful planning in the way they surged forward. In return, there seemed to be some measure of preparation among the shadowhunters who had answered Valentine's summon, against their will or not; they worked in small groups, perfectly attuned to each other. When a body fell, it fell in its place and was left behind, but there was no raw terror, no blood chilling howls of pain, just agreeable silence that hung over the bodies.

Go find Clary, he told himself. If you find Clary, you'll find Valentine, and if you find him, you'll find Luke. Simon paused, wondering why he was trying to find Luke. You're trying to find Luke because he's an adult and he can-

Can what? Protect you?

If Simon had the blood for it, he would have flushed. If he had to be true with himself, he wanted to find Luke because he associated Luke with safety. But that wasn't necessarily true anymore, and he knew it. Luke was in the middle of a battle that could claim his life, Luke could die tonight, hell, he, Simon, could die tonight. The people out in the city, shadowhunters and werewolves, could die tonight, and yet…and yet they were still fighting, still risking their lives.

Jace was right about Mundanes. At least in some ways. Simon watched a shadowhunter fall under the weight of a werewolf. Maybe we don't want to die, but it's because there's something more worth living for. Shadowhunters, they glory in battle and death because it's all they know, but it's not everything. Simon could feel his thoughts chasing each other in circles around his head, his more reasonable side, fighting against the emerging realization. It's not everything to Mundanes, but that's because they have the opportunity for more because shadowhunters sacrifice. Because we sacrifice. Because I sacrifice.

Luke had told Simon once that he was a vampire, and running from it would only make it worse when he finally came to accept it, and maybe he had been right. Staring at the fight before him, Simon knew he couldn't keep avoiding what he was, who he was. He was a vampire, and as a vampire, he didn't really have the right to run to Luke and seek protection anymore. As a vampire he belonged out there, fighting to defend humanity, just as the werewolves did, as the shadowhunters did.

You'll leave Clary behind, said a small voice.

Simon saw a flickering of Isabelle's pretty face, looking up at him just before he'd left, and her eyes had held a promise in them, something left unspoken. It's about time I did.

Before he really knew what he was doing, Simon had moved forward, out of the alley and into the crowd now growing larger and larger. In one leap, he had cleared the space between himself and the nearest shadowhunter, and crashed into them. The two hit the ground and rolled over and over until they fetched up against the base of a fountain. Simon sprang up, expecting a blade to come shooting his way, but the shadowhunter had hit their head hard against the fountain. Simon saw the man below him looking up lazily at him, and, before his eyelids fluttered shut, he smiled rather triumphantly, like he had won.

They don't all want to fight, Simon thought suddenly. Valentine summoned many of them to him, but that didn't mean they wanted to join him.

Bearing in mind that possibly not all the people he was fighting wanted to kill him, he moved back into the sprawling crowd. It seemed that the werewolves had the upper hand at the moment, but that didn't mean that other shadowhunters wouldn't be arriving soon, and that the faster they found Valentine the faster they could end this.

"Simon!"

He spun about and saw Maia struggling under the combined attack of two shadowhunters who looked like they very much meant to kill her. Simon lunged across at the nearest man and used the inertia of his leap to swing the man around, the two of them circling each other like the earth around the sun. The shadowhunter regained his sense of balance first, but Simon was faster, less hindered by fighting gear. When the shadowhunter slashed at him with a long, wicked looking blade, Simon managed to avoid it with another leap. The leap, however, was too much, and he skidded on the road, tripping forward. The shadowhunter used his momentary confusion to attack again, and this time, his blade caught Simon's shoulder.

Simon fell forward, his back searing in pain, but managed to avoid another glancing blow by dropping onto his knees and ducking as the knife sliced the air. Now crouching, Simon had the perfect lunging point, and he threw himself at the knees of his attacker. The two fell, hitting the earth and frantically grasping at each other's arms and throats. Simon had the superior strength, but the shadowhunter had the training, and the two seemed evenly matched.

He stumbled backward over something, a prostrate body on the ground, and the shadowhunter took a vicious leap forward, blades raised. Simon saw the light of the moon and fire glance off it, and he felt his muscles tense, readying to move, but something else shot across his line of vision and his the shadowhunter. The two dark figures spun about each other, moving like two shadows and Simon managed to clamber up to his feet.

He saw his attacker fall at the hands of his ally and turn to face him. "I couldn't, Simon."

"Isabelle," he said raggedly and wiped his face free of the dirt. "You said you'd stay-"

"I know what I said," she said, and ridiculously, she looked away, like she was embarrassed by something. "I-I just didn't want you to go into this alone. You're not really…ready for it."

"I'm flattered," he said awkwardly, aware that around him people were fighting for their lives. "But I am-I was doing fine."

The two stood at an impasse for a moment, neither willing to give an inch. Simon wanted Isabelle to go back, but was eternally grateful that she had come just in time to save his life. Isabelle, for her part, didn't think anything in the world besides her brothers could have driven her so mad and so foolhardily into a war.

Then, a building behind them collapsed into flame with a whooshing sound and the night sky was illuminated.

"Where's Alec?" Simon asked, and he snatched her arm to pull her away from the flames.

"He went to find Magnus." Isabelle glanced around.

"He went with Luke." Simon considered the fighting around him. "He's probably looking for Valentine."

"That'll be where Jace it, too," said Isabelle thoughtfully. "Where do you think they might be?"

Simon's eyes scanned the horizon, the mess before him, and the houses far in the distance. He saw the largest, the most magnificent house on the far hill, the lights burning bright. "Let's try his home."

Jace

The fires that had sputtered to life earlier in the battle were now consuming the houses nearest the city circle, and the smoke was drifting over the city like a poisonous fog. There was not enough wind to blow the smoke, and more seemed to be pouring out of every corner and crevice. Jace wanted to keep Clary at his side, but he and Jonathan were running full out, and she wasn't gifted with their speed; he constantly measured his steps to look back and see her small figure trailing his through the smoke. He could feel the tension now ringing through Jonathan, who found Clary's speed not just annoying but insulting to him.

We have to get to Valentine. Get to Valentine and this ends. He looked back towards Jonathan and the hellish landscape below. I promised I'd keep her safe.

"Don't stop for me," said Clary, coming up to his side. "The sooner we get down to the city, the sooner we can find Valentine."

"He's not going to be down there," Jonathan said with just the slightest sneer. "That is for his soldiers, not for him. He'll be looking for Luke."

Jace saw Clary's eyes widened just a fraction at the thought of the man she considered her father in danger. "Where do you think he is, then?"

Jonathan looked thoughtful. "Close enough to keep an eye on things, but far enough away that Luke won't be able to call for immediate help. He'll want to pick somewhere he knows well, somewhere he's comfortable with."

Jace considered his father and the city before him. "The Accords Hall."

"It certainly has the advantage of protection," Jonathan said.

"It's not that." Jace looked toward the imposing structure that was the center for diplomacy among his people. "That's where the first Uprising failed, and where Luke stopped him once. It'll be there again."

Jonathan raised one eyebrow but couldn't see fault in his thinking. "You might be right."

"Where else do we have to look?" Jace asked swiftly. "He's not at his home waiting for us to come, and he's not down there."

"We should hurry," said Clary tensely. "People are dying while we wait."

This didn't seem to concern Jonathan all that much, but Jace nodded and took her aside. "When we get there, I don't want you doing anything-"

"I'm not going to do anything stupid," Clary cut across him, looking fierce.

"I didn't say that," said Jace.

"I would, though," Jonathan said, earning a shared look of dislike.

"I want you to stay by me, but if something happens, if it's too dangerous, I want you to go." Clary opened her mouth, but Jace pulled her closer. "You're not fully trained, and we both know that as far as Valentine is concerned, we're disposable. He'll kill you if he thinks it might stop Luke or me. Now, I don't want that, and I assume you don't; so, please, just listen to me when I ask you to go."

She looked almost ready to argue, but below them, a horrible cry went up as a house collapsed in flame and seemed to jerk back to reality. "Alright, but don't just sent me away for nothing."

Typical Clary, Jace thought, and the three set off again, this time for the Accords Hall.

The city was in chaos, but the fight was oddly organized, and Jace wondered if Valentine already made arrangements for such an occurrence. It almost seemed like the shadowhunters were following orders, like puppets, in their movements and attacks. Jace, Clary, and Jonathan managed to slink past them in the shadows of the buildings and approached the Accords Hall from the front. The steps were littered with debris, but no bodies, and it was a relief to know no one had died in a struggle with Valentine. The doors were ajar, and Jonathan and Jace shouldered them open, Clary standing between them.

The main hall seemed undisturbed, and they heard and saw nothing of a fight. Jace saw Clary nervously spin the blade in her hand and say, "They're not here."

"This is just the atrium," Jace said, and led the way in. "There's a few larger rooms behind this one, and room where the Accords were signed."

"Do you know the way?" Clary asked and Jace looked uncertainly over at Jonathan.

"You came here without a map?" Jonathan asked incredulously, but then his face turned into its usual demeaning look. "Yes, I've been here; come on, I'll go first."

Jonathan led the way in silence, and Jace could feel their connection burning him. The one thing he and Jonathan bonded over, their shared love and skill in battle, was thrilling through both of them, and forcing them both closer until Jace could swear he could almost feel Jonathan's heart pounding alongside his.

That can't be a good sign, he thought, and moved as close as he could to Clary. The sooner this is over, the sooner Clary can separate you two. You need Alec back. As if Jonathan's angry inner-self sensed Jace's intentions, he felt something cold and dark prod at his mind. Finish this and find Alec.

They crossed the atrium and almost as soon as they left the large, empty chamber, heard the sound of things hitting walls, bursting into pieces, and enraged cries. They followed the sounds, not caring for the noise they might have made, and threw open the doors to a roomier side chamber. Jace felt his heart leap.

"Alec!" he cried, and rushed forward, ignoring the sight of Magnus dueling two shadowhunters, threw himself as Malachi, who was currently engaged in fierce combat with Alec.

Alec stumbled at the sound of his name, and Malachi would have taken the upper hand had Jace not moved with unerring speed and aim and caught Malachi's arm with his sword. Malachi fell back, snarling in pain, and Alec darted forward and struck him in the back of the skull with the hilt of his sword.

"Jace, how did you-"

"There isn't time," said Jace, though he a rush of warmth that completely pushed away the cold that had just moments before been stabbing at him. "Have you seen Valentine?"

"Luke chased him off when we got there, but he had the Mortal Sword with him. He could be summoning demons to him." Jace and Alec both heard a crash and saw that Jonathan had managed to apprehend one of the shadowhunters attacking Magnus; he grabbed his hand holding the weapon, crushed it until the bones broke, and then slammed his head against the floor.

Good thing we've got one on our side, Jace wanted to say, but pushed the thought away when he saw Clary rush forward to help Magnus with the last one. He made to help her, but, to his surprise, Clary and Magnus handled the shadowhunter well and thrown back by a curse from Magnus, into a wall, which he slid down and collapsed unconscious.

"Are you alright?" Alec asked at once, going to Magnus, who was panting but seemed unharmed.

"I'm fine." He looked around him, noticed Jace, Clary, and Jonathan and raised an eyebrow. "Now, I was under the impression you three were being held hostage."

"What would have given you that idea?" asked Jace.

"Gossip," shrugged Magnus, but his eyes moved to Jonathan. "Any particular reason demon boy is here?"

Jonathan's eyes narrowed. "Look who's talking."

"It was polite inquiry." Magnus was looking between Jace and Clary.

"For the moment, we have a common enemy," said Jace helplessly. "Jonathan helped us escape from Valentine the first time, and he's just as interested in helping us now."

"Well, he can stay by you then," Magnus said with dislike.

Jace ignored the barb. "Do you know where Valentine is?"

Magnus and Alec considered a moment. "He's probably in the actual Accords Room. It's far enough away that people won't be able to come to his aid."

"Jonathan, you know the way?" asked Jace and when he merely nodded, Jace smiled ironically. "Well, lead the way."

Luke

"I must admit, Lucian, I'm unusually impressed," said Valentine, his grey eyes flicking over Luke's tried form. "I never knew a person possessed of the ability to gift Downworlders with courage."

"It's not courage they lack," returned Luke coldly. "It is the right to act. But that's going to change after tonight, isn't it?"

"It's certainly going to change how I deal with them." Valentine lifted his blade a fraction higher, in case Luke lunged at him. "I will simply have to kill them all."

Luke felt his fingers shift into nails. "That's not going to happen, Valentine."

He smiled without any warmth. "Your certainty is far more amusing than you think. Not that it will mean much after tonight; I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill you, Lucian. Our friendship aside, you pose far too great a threat to my Clave."

"The Clave was never meant to be the responsibility of one man. You'll destroy it." Luke knew he must have hit some nerve, because a muscle jumped in Valentine's jaw.

"I was chosen by the Angel to lead this Clave-"

"No, you forced the Angel to allow you to lead," Luke cut across him, and Valentine glowered. "I'm not going to allow you forsake mankind in your hunt for Downworlders. We were given a mandate, and that was to protect humans from demons." His eyes landed on the sword in Valentine's hand. "You use them as your servants."

"Who exactly is this 'we' you speak of? You're no shadowhunter, Lucian, not anymore."

"And neither are you," he answered softly. "You're hardly a man anymore. You gave up everything for your ambition. Everything you love."

Valentine's eyes darkened. "I took it all back."

"Jocelyn?" Luke guessed, and sensed that even now, Valentine was still confused as to how he felt for her. "She'll never love you after what you did to Jonathan. Your son."

"I gave her a new son."

"Jace? No, you forced her to love another boy in fear of his life. You stole him from his family, from his true mother and father, and you tortured him all his childhood. You abandoned him and then picked him back up and did it again."

"Jocelyn was happy with him," Valentine said indifferently. "She had her son, she had her family."

"She had her daughter, who you threatened to kill." Luke saw the muscle move again. "She is your daughter and you treated her like she was dirt. You hated her because she was the only thing Jocelyn loved. No father hates their daughter."

Valentine's eyes darted over his face, searching. "Because she's not my daughter. Jocelyn took her from me long before she could have been mine. Clarissa is your daughter."

Luke balked for a moment at the idea. He had long ago accepted her as his responsibility, as a member of his family, but he had never used the one, potent word. Daughter. Valentine must have known the effect it would have on him, and he took advantage of the momentary pause.

Luke only just had time to react when he saw Valentine coming at him, and he spun away, avoiding the Mortal Sword that could easily have sliced his throat clean. He threw up his hands, claws extended, and met the Sword. Valentine took a moment to loot at the protruding claws and he frowned, unimpressed.

"And you would dare to consider yourself human, Lucian?"

Luke's free hand came up and scythed close to Valentine's face, just barely avoiding the claws. "And you dare call yourself a shadowhunter?" he mocked.

Enraged, Valentine swept the blade in an arc toward Luke, why ducked low to avoid it. He fell a few steps back, and slashed his claws upward in the air, and he noticed that his arms had developed thick fur, and he was shifting. Valentine bent back and renewed his efforts, but Luke had the speed of a werewolf on his side and the training of a shadowhunter; he moved with dexterity and speed and managed to slip within Valentine's defenses, and his claws sliced through some of his outer armor. The two lurched apart, Valentine clutching at the wound and Luke watching him warily.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," said Valentine emotionlessly.

"I was thinking the same," replied Luke. "It would have saved countless lives, countless families. It was a mistake, letting you live."

"Your pity and my mercy brought us here, but it ends now," said Valentine, and he lifted the Mortal Sword again. "You can't stop me. I have the Clave behind me and all the shadowhunters at my disposal."

"Your Clave hates you," said Luke, and he drew nearer. "They will do all in their power to fight your summons."

Valentine's face flickered for a moment, and Luke knew he must have spoken to some of his fears. "With you dead, your dogs will flee." And with that, he darted at Luke once more, Sword aimed for his throat.

This time, there was much more viciousness in attack, more force behind his blows. Valentine seemed possessed of a single energy, and he was funneling it into his assault on Luke. Though Luke moved more swiftly, Valentine's attack was fueled by his joint fear of betrayal and his desire to see an enemy destroyed. Luke could feel himself back up, avoiding the blows and began to worry that if he didn't find a way out, Valentine might trap him in a corner.

"I must admit, Lucian, I'm going to take particular pleasure in telling Jocelyn and Clarissa of your death," said Valentine. "They both seemed to think that you were coming to their aid."

Luke felt the wall behind him. "Valentine, I'm sorry Jocelyn stopped loving you, but you shouldn't torment her with this."

Valentine stabbed the Sword forward and it found its mark, resting just above his heart. "Are you asking me not to kill you?"

"No, you're going to do that anyway." Luke glanced at the blade and wondered what had brought him to this point. "I'm asking you not to tell her how I died. If you want her to love you at all, you won't punish her with this."

"Jocelyn stopped loving me the moment that brat of hers was born," said Valentine coldly. "This will hardly change anything." Valentine's grip tightened on the hilt and Luke knew what was coming. "Goodbye, Lucian-"

Something, something sharp, silver, and small, spun through the air and lodged itself in the wall by Luke's head. They both froze, staring at the blade, glowing brightly, and, as one, looked in the direction it had come.

Standing in the doorway, looking ragged and out of breath, but very ready for a fight, were Jace, Clary, Alec, Magnus, and Jonathan, who had thrown the blade. It was Jonathan who smiled widest, like it was the most pleasant thing in the world, seeing his father moments away from murdering another man.

Luke saw the way Clary was looking at him, her eyes wide and meaningful, and he saw his chance fleetingly. Valentine, still staring at Jonathan like he'd never seen him properly before didn't even notice Luke had moved until he had brought his hand down with bone-breaking strength on Valentine's arm and the Mortal Sword clattered to the floor.