NOTE: ALMOST ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. THE SETTINGS (IDRIS, ALICANTE, ETC.) ALSO BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. I AM JUST BORROWING THEM.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Council Hall glowed with runes of angelic power, inscribed deeply into the walls of the Marked fortress, with the only Portal in Idris glowing there.

Bailey raised her head to look above Jace's. He was in the lead, Clary beside him. She looked petite, almost doll-like beside him, if not for the hard set of her jaw and the look in her dark, spring-green eyes that Benjamin had inherited directly from her. As Bailey watched, Clary slid her hand into Jace's, their fingers tangling tightly together for comfort.

Clary. Bailey's throat pinched at the thought, and she clenched her fists, looking down at her feet, feeling the bite of her fingernails in her palms. She had never meant to hurt Clary yesterday afternoon, but all of her anger and fear and tension had just exploded, like a cork popping in her throat. Mostly fear, Bailey's mind whispered. And it was true, as much as she wanted to deny it. All of her fear about her faerie blood had erupted yesterday.

What if I'm next? Bailey's mind raced. What if I'm going to die... or someone close to me? Will they use me as that advantage? What will happen?

"Welcome, Nephilim." Rosa Doveheart's voice cut into Bailey's frantic, fearful, silent speaking. The woman stood up. Her hands were clasped behind her back.

Bailey had only ever heard about the Council leader, the heir of Jia Penhallow. She stared now in half-awe at Rosa. She had dark blond hair that was wrangled back into a tight ponytail- it was shot through with strands of silver. She had steely, hard grey eyes and small wrinkles unfurling at the corners of her eyes and her lips- her nose as thin and sharp, and her mouth was a jagged and rocky slash between her sharp jaw and the tip of her nose.

"Hello, Rosa." Jace's voice was tight.

Rosa's eyes narrowed as she saw Simon and Magnus, hanging back behind the group. She pressed her lips together. "And why did you bring Downworlders?"

Bailey had heard about Rosa being especially uptight about Downworlders. Her breath caught in her lungs- she turned partially, seeing Magnus and Simon out of the corner of her eye. Magnus's catlike eyes were narrowed into dark, gleaming slits, his muscles tight- Simon just looked vaguely uncomfortable, but like he was used to having this all the time.

Isabelle opened her mouth, her dark eyes flashing angrily, but her brother stepped in front of her- Bailey could see him stepping down hard on her toe to shut her up. Isabelle glared at him.

Alec ignored it. "Magnus and Simon are witnesses to the three slaughtered Nephilim," he announced, looking straight up at Rosa. "They have a right to be here."

Rosa pressed her lips together, so hard that they turned white, her cheeks tightening. "Very well," she gave in finally with a tight nod. "You may sit."

Magnus's eyes still shone with anger- Bailey saw Alec step back to his place beside Alec, taking his boyfriend's hand in his own, and saw Magnus's face soften marginally. She scuttled back, sitting quickly, to be sandwiched in between Nora and Simon.

"Good." Rosa nodded again- even her hair looked frightening. Bailey clenched her hands around her knees, trying to keep her fingers from shaking. She hated herself for this. For her fear. Fear had always been Bailey's flaw, her weakness, her Achille's heel, as much as she tried to forget about it and move on, to become a warrior, to fight with no weak bone in her body.

"Jonathan Herondale." Rosa turned her head, locking her eyes into Jace's dark golden ones. "Please, describe what you have seen."

"I didn't see anything." Jace's words were stiff. "Clary, Simon, Benjamin, Nora, and Bailey did." He gestured to each one as he spoke.

Rosa looked at him, tight-lipped. "Very well." She nodded again. This lady really likes nodding, Bailey noted to herself. "Very well," she repeated. "Which one of you would like to take the Mortal Sword, to tell the truth of what you have seen to the Council?"

Bailey could almost hear the whole group swallow. A collective gulp. She felt paralyzed- arms, wrists, fingers, legs, ankles- as she watched Clary stand. She looked so delicate, so fragile, and yet, Bailey knew that she wasn't. After all, she, Bailey, had been trained personally by Clary for the first five years of her stay in the Institute. She had learned to wield a seraph blade, draw her first iratze, and use a stele properly, among much, much more.

She shouldn't have to take the Sword.

The thought rang in Bailey's head.

She shouldn't have to.

She shouldn't.

And yet, she was frozen as she sat there, watching Jace's eyes grip Clary's face as if it was a last goodbye, watching Clary step up to grip the Mortal Sword. She shuddered at the touch, as though it physically pained her.

"Please, tell us what you saw." Rosa's eyes were bright. Almost hungry.

Clary swallowed- Jace's muscles were taut. Bailey could see his shoulders, straining against the sleeves of his shirt in their tension. "Simon and I," she started. "Simon and I were walking to the deli to get noodles... and... then we saw... three Nephilim." She swallowed again. "In Central Park."

"You were in Central Park? In New York?" Rosa pressed. "Why were you there?"

Clary's eyelids fluttered- her chest heaved. Bailey felt something warm spark in her chest. It took her a minute to realize that it was anger. Hot anger, at the Council, for making Clary do this. She clenched her fists harder.

"We were eating there," Clary said. She breathed quickly. "And we saw... tucked in the trees... there were three Nephilim. Just lying there." Another gulp. "And they weren't moving." Her eyelids closed tight, as if she was in pain- Jace's jaw was clenched tightly. "There were daggers in their chests. And we saw... a small bell. Just lying there. I've seen it before." Her breathing seemed to be getting easier with each word that fell from her lips. "It's a faerie bell."

There was a collective intake of breath from the Council- Rosa's eyebrows knotted together.

"A faerie bell?" she said, a hint of disbelief in her words.

Clary's shoulders were starting to droop- she seemed to struggle against something. "Yes," she managed out. "And then... the Silent Brothers... told us... Simon, Bailey, Benjamin, Nora and I... that it was a non-Clave-approved faerie weapon." She gasped aloud, as if in pain- Jace's cheekbone was twitching almost manically, starkly white against his evenly tanned skin.

"Was there anything else?" Rosa asked. Clary's chest heaved.

"I- don't- think... so, no..." The muscles in her back tightened and arched, as if she was in agony, and Jace leapt out of his chair, sprinting almost cat-like across the room, grabbing Clary's hands.

"Stop," he said- the word was clear and powerful, ringing out, reverberating in fury. His eyes were smoldering as he looked at Rosa. "Stop. Don't you see that it's torturing her? You've got enough information, so stop."

"Jace-" Clary started, but Jace cut her off.

"STOP," he said again, the word louder and more insistent. "Stop now, or I swear, I will-"

"Jace!" Clary grabbed his hands, holding them tightly. "It's okay, I'm okay, it's all okay. I can take the Mortal Sword."

Rosa tapped her hand against one desk, considering. "Very well," she said again. She jerked her chin at Clary. "You may sit." Her eyes narrowed as they fell upon Jace. "And you. You sit."

Jace breathed tightly, but didn't struggle back. "Very well." It was almost mocking, disguised under a thin layer of fake politeness. He sat next to Clary- Bailey could see that his teeth were still clenched.

Rosa folded her hands on top of her desk. "This is all very... surprising," she said, a special weight on the last word.

Something sparked again in Bailey's chest. "What's that supposed to mean?" The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, sharp as jagged rocks. Rosa looked down at her hands.

"The faeries are strange Downworlders. However, they would not go against the Law..."

"We can bring a Silent Brother in here, if you want." Isabelle's black eyes were fiery, just like Jace's. "We have all the proof that you need, Rosa."

Rosa looked up at the ceiling, as if asking the Angel for help. "That won't be necessary," she responded. "We will send a Nephilim, a vampire, and a werewolf down to speak to the fey." She nodded with a thin smile at Isabelle. "We can sort it out. Don't you worry." It was almost like she was patting a small girl on the shoulder- Isabelle's eyes were practically tiny volcanoes.

"Fine." Isabelle got up, swinging herself around, kicking her chair into place- it wobbled dangerously and Simon winced. "Fine," she repeated. "Let's go." She jerked her head at the rest of the group, and everyone wasted no time in following.

As they headed silently out, Bailey couldn't help but think that that meeting had not helped matters in the slightest. In fact, it had probably made them worse.