Chapter 18 – Interrogation
In one graceful movement, the Inquisitor stepped behind the podium and raised her left hand. She had her pale lips pressed into a thin line and her hair fell over her shoulders in an elaborate coiffure. Her raised arm revealed a leather strap on her hip, from which not just one but three daggers hung.
The whisperings of the Shadowhunters gradually faded until they finally fell silent and the last of them took their places. I watched the Consul take a seat on the left throne, giving me an almost sardonic look. I immediately turned my head to the Inquisitor. Her eyes were already on me as if she had been waiting for me. She pointed to the bench next to the podium. "Clarissa, please sit down there." Her words were phrased like a request, but the tone of her voice left no doubt that it was an order. A few hours ago it hadn't been quite that cold.
As I sat down on the uncomfortable, hard bench, I eyed the Inquisitor sideways. Hardly anything about her resembled Jace except for the hard look in her eyes. I wondered what her son must have looked like. He was the reason she tried to punish me with that callous look.
Heart pounding, I scanned the crowd that stretched from my left to my right and seemed to encircle me. The Nephilim were everywhere, staring down at me like they were going to rip me apart any second. Some of them swore in whispers that I couldn't understand. But still others spoke loud on purpose that I could understand every word. Traitor. Murderer. The right punishment is death.
I tried to ignore them. It wouldn't do me any good to indulge in their harassment anyway. The blood in my veins was already racing so fast that I could hardly hear anything. I unobtrusively lowered my head and looked down at my hands. I had them folded in my lap. My fingertips were trembling so violently that I had to interlace my fingers to keep the crowd from enjoying my fear. My red hair fell in neat strands over my shoulders and tickled the back of my neck. Why didn't they think of Jocelyn instead of Valentine when they saw me? Nephilim are like humans, they only ever see the negative, they will always miss the good in you.
My stomach lurched when I spotted the Lightwoods in one of the front rows of seats. Maryse whispered something into the ear of a broad-shouldered man with brown hair. I had never seen him before, but he made me think of the boys in the Lightwood family portrait. It had to be Robert Lightwood. Sitting next to them were Isabelle, Jace, and even Alec, who still looked battered. One couldn't blame him, after all less than 24 hours had passed since his release from the Basilias. I had never met Max Lightwood either, but he looked so much like his parents that I recognized him immediately. He was about ten years old and wore black glasses that slipped down his nose a little. His fingers curled around the hem of Jace's cloak and he looked puzzled. His dark eyes studied me curiously, without a trace of disgust or fear. He looked completely out of place among all the angry Nephilim.
The sight of him almost made me smile if it weren't for Jace sitting next to him, scowling down at me. Something twinkled in his eyes, maybe he was still mad about what had happened in the library or he just saw this as my punishment because he wanted me dead anyway. When he realized that we were staring at each other, he looked away.
On the left side of the room, a few rows up, I spotted Adam. Or rather, he let me spot him, because he gestured conspicuously with his hands, so that I immediately noticed his movements in the corner of my eye. A slight smile graced his lips. I wanted nothing else but to answer the smile, but the corners of my mouth suddenly felt so incredibly heavy that it seemed almost impossible to ever smile again.
Adam could see the agony on my face as his smile slowly faded from his features. Instead, he gave a short nod and dropped his hands. Adam had told me several times in the past about his siblings and the responsibilities he often had as the eldest. All three sat next to him, arranged according to their height. The smallest of them, a boy who couldn't have been more than five, had rested his head against Adam's side and dozed off. A warm feeling spread through my heart and somehow I managed a tiny smile.
"People of Nephilim," the Inquisitor's iron voice cut through the silence at that moment, making me wince. I slowly turned away from Adam. "This special session of the Clave is hereby opened." The room was dead silent. All eyes were on the Inquisitor, the Nephilim staring at her with anticipation. As if trying not to miss a second of it.
"Clarissa Morgenstern is sitting in front of you today. The daughter of Valentine Morgenstern, who was presumed dead for nearly two decades, having not only betrayed the Clave, but also responsible for the deaths of a yet unknown number of both Nephilim and Downworlders. Valentine Morgenstern is a murderer and deserter who needs to be caught and brought to justice as soon as possible." She paused briefly and then continued with the latest findings.
"There've been no further reports since the attacks on Toronto, Paris and the Silent Brothers, but that just means Valentine is preparing for something bigger. All Shadowhunters reached Alicante safely, there were no casualties during the evacuation. However, as most know, Valentine managed to steal one of the Mortal Instruments. He slaughtered the Silent Brothers, their blood staining the angelic sword he now calls his own." Some Shadowhunters began to whisper, as if surprised to hear the news. With every word that left the Inquisitor's lips, the Nephilim's expressions grew grimmer. Their eyes narrowed progressively, they leaned forward, and their posture stiffened.
"We are gathered here today to interview Clarissa in a first session. I know many of you will question the benefit of this. We don't have an angel's sword, but the Iron Sisters have figured out a way for us to get Clarissa to reveal the truth as well," the Inquisitor explained, sounding almost satisfied.
"We should just kill her! Valentine doesn't deserve anything else," someone shouted from the top ranks at that moment.
"She can help us reveal his plans," shouted another from across the room. Several Shadowhunters jumped up and a heated discussion ensued. More and more people started talking at once. They insulted each other, called each other blind, stupid and even the word traitor was used.
The calm that had reigned a few moments before was gone. My heart was racing in my chest and my whole body started shaking, even my teeth were chattering. I could no longer hide my fear. It felt like someone was squeezing my windpipe again. I couldn't breathe The room swam before my eyes, became blurred. I heard their shouts, their talk, but I didn't understand its meaning. "You're not going to die," I murmured. I couldn't hear my own words, but I felt their sounds on my lips. "You will not die. They will not execute you. Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine." I didn't know them, and my father had told me only the worst about them. So what was I expecting?
"Enough!" The Inquisitor had slapped the dais with the palm of her hand. I didn't have to look up to see her angry face in front of my eyes. Squinted eyebrows, sparkling eyes, pursed lips. "How are we supposed to convince the girl that we have a fair and proper legal system when you all act like ... like savages. This isn't a court hearing, it's an interrogation. Nobody dies today."
Her words sounded so final that I almost lost consciousness. Nobody dies today. I continued to stare at my trembling fingers as she continued. "After discussing how to create an effect similar to that of Mellartach, the Iron Sisters referred to an ancient rune from the Gray Book." The Inquisitor waved to someone standing in the shadow of the seating tier. With hasty steps he came up to her and handed her a copy of the Gray Book.
"Today this rune is no longer used, as are most of the runes in this book. Called the Rune of Truth, it alone is not enough to guarantee truth and nothing but truth. So we got some help. A spell enhances the effect of the rune, exerting a compulsion similar to that of the sword but far more painful." Again she beckoned to someone. This time I turned around and discovered a door I hadn't been able to see before because a pillar had blocked my view. And it was through this very door that Magnus Bane now walked, looking at me with a neutral expression and then stepping to my side. Only now did I realize that the Inquisitor was on my other side. I raised my head in surprise and they both could see the panic on my face. I, who hated it when anyone could see my feelings, was exposed to the entire Shadowhunter community.
"Apply it on her collarbone," I heard the Consul's piercing voice just above my ear. They were all here to torment me. Instantly, the Inquisitor drew her gleaming stele, pressed her fingers into my shoulder, and without warning applied a rune to me. I gasped as the cold adamas touched my skin. "The closer to the heart, the better the effect," I heard the Consul say almost jokingly, but his voice suddenly sounded far away.
I was only vaguely aware of the Inquisitor lowering her stele and taking a step back from me. Something roared in my ears. My eyes lingered on her square face, which was deeply lined. She nodded in Magnus's direction and he opened a book in his hands. Then Latin words filled the air.
A cold feeling spread through my body. My joints felt dull, so heavy I couldn't move them. Multicolored sparks flew from Magnus's hands as he mouthed the spell. My eyes swept the crowd of Nephilim one last time, searching for Jace. His dark eyes met my gaze, this time he didn't look away. Then the image blurred before my eyes and I gasped.
"Clarissa, can you hear me?" A small voice from the edge of my awareness filtered through to me. The Inquisitor. Her voice sounded strangely distorted. I felt my head tilt to the side and my eyes looked at her, but I couldn't see her. I saw nothing but a tangle of colors. I nodded slowly. I hadn't wanted to nod, I was too weak to want to do anything, but an alien force had taken control of my body. It controlled my movements while my spirit was stuck in my head and could only watch from afar.
"Good," Herondale said. "Now tell me your full name."
I knew my empty eyes were staring at her, pretending I saw her, but it wasn't me. It was someone else. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what she wanted from me. But my body responded of its own accord. I felt my lips parting almost automatically, as if they were being remotely controlled. "Clarissa Adele Morgenstern."
"Now tell me your age and the names of your parents."
"I'm eighteen years old. My mother…" My voice faltered and I felt a slight jolt in my heart. What did this portend? A pounding that tightened my throat and made me gasp. I couldn't get her image in my mind, but I knew she caused this reaction.
"Your parents' names," the Inquisitor demanded without sympathy. "Now."
"Jocelyn Fairchild Morgenstern and Valentine Morgenstern." Even now I could hear my voice beginning to tremble slightly.
"Tell me where you were born and where your family lived until recently."
Cold poison ate through my veins. "I was born in Idris. On the estate where we lived until recently. I don't know where exactly it is. A few hours from Alicante." The words gushed out of me and I couldn't help it. I couldn't control my tongue.
I felt a deep pain in my body. My stiff muscles spasmed, trying to resist the spell. But the harder my body fought, the stronger the power that controlled it became. And the pain increased. As if poison was coursing through my veins and eating me from the inside out.
The Inquisitor's shoes made a high-pitched click as she paced in front of me. I could only make out her silhouette, her outline before my eyes. "How was your life? What did your father teach you, what was your daily routine like?"
A lighthearted laugh escaped my lips, bringing the Inquisitor to a halt. "My day wasn't always the same. Every day was different."
Herondale leaned down to me and I could feel her breath in front of my face. "But there must've been a pattern behind your daily routines." Her tone was as final as ever. As if she knew everything and as if she were always right.
My body began to burn as I spoke the words. "Every day was strictly planned," I said monotonously, staring straight ahead. "We had combat training every day, with and without a weapon. Survival training. Foreign languages, Latin, French, German, Spanish. I can speak each of them fluently. Demonology. Math. Various natural sciences such as physics and chemistry. Social studies. But most important of all was the science about humans, psychology. How people act and why, and how to learn to manipulate them without them even noticing. This applies to humans and Nephilim alike." It felt like I was standing in front of a hot jet of flame, growing bigger and warmer with every word I spoke.
It felt like I was burning from the inside out, like I was slowly melting away. I could feel the burns on my body even though I didn't see them. Frantically, I ran my fingers down my upper arms in an attempt to hold back the flames. But it was no use. The fire spread. Where my fingers touched my skin, my skin burned as if I had touched an open wound. I gritted my teeth to keep from gasping out loud . My eyes could not see burns, nor could they see the fire. But it was there, I felt it.
"What gave your father the idea that he could teach you how to manipulate Nephilim?" the Inquisitor asked adamantly. But there was something else in her voice. Fear.
"Everyone is manipulable," I whispered. "You too, Inquisitor. As long as you feel something, as long as you have people to love, you will be manipulable. Only when you've gotten rid of these things are you untouchable. Valentine can be manipulated in the same way. I don't know if he loves us," I admitted, pursing my lips. "But we're important enough to him that after twenty years he comes out of hiding and wants to bring us back. Without a plan. A situation like that makes him manipulable if you do it right."
"What exactly did you learn in the ... science about humans?" the Inquisitor asked, ignoring my previous statements.
"Anything to do with humans. How they live, what they believe in, their cultures, their world. The Shadow World compared to their world. Human behavior, survival in the human world." I paused and cleared my throat. The hall was dead quiet and I could smell their panicked astonishment. Now everyone knew what I had been taught. Now they could assess my danger. Now they knew I would be superior to any Nephilim my age. "Apart from that, I learned how to survive in the wild. I'm familiar with the Nephilim's culture. I know all the laws. I know who's in power. I know who else has influence in the Shadowhunter ranks."
"So you already knew who I and the Consul were before we introduced ourselves?" the Inquisitor asked quietly.
I nodded silently. "My father was always very knowledgeable about everything that happened in Alicante."
I said nothing and so did the Inquisitor. For a while there was just silence. Then, the longer the silence lingered, the panic, the fear, grew in the Shadowhunters. Individuals in the crowd began to whisper, and slowly their murmurs grew louder. More and more scared and alarmed voices joined the chorus and soon loud chaos broke out in the ranks. Some referred to me as my father's weapon, others saw me as a threat to the community, having received stronger and more intensive training than typical Shadowhunters. They called me a spy for Valentine. The Inquisitor had turned away from the crowd and was staring at me with an indefinable expression. Actually, she should have silenced them, but she didn't. She just stared at me and seemed to be thinking about something.
I tried to fix my eyes on her, wanting to see her clearly in front of me. But as soon as I could make her out sharply, the picture blurred again. My eyes burned and sweat ran down my forehead. Was I so drained? I hadn't even noticed the effort.
Finally, the Consul intervened. I heard him get up from his seat behind me and shout something, almost yelled. I couldn't understand. But it had an effect, because the Shadowhunters fell silent immediately. The Inquisitor lifted her head and the mist cleared from her eyes and she seemed to be fully in the present again as she straightened her back and just continued as if nothing had happened.
"Did you leave Idris at any point before you escaped? Have you ever been to Alicante?" Her voice was composed, perhaps a touch too composed. I couldn't exactly say because my brain was already busy with the question she had asked me.
The fire in my veins was infinitely warm. I could hardly think straight. It was like sitting in a burning house without knowing how to get out. It was so warm I could feel the hot sweat trickling down the back of my neck. My hands went to the winter coat and tried to undo the buttons. My fingers were so damp they couldn't get a hold of the smooth buttons. I tried to look down, but my head wouldn't move an inch. I breathed open-mouthed, hoping to get more oxygen into my lungs.
"No," I was finally able to bring out with struggle. My voice long hoarse and distant as if someone across the room was speaking. "I was forbidden to leave Idris. We were never allowed to leave the estate alone, my father always accompanied us."
"And Alicante?" she demanded after I had stopped speaking.
"I've never been to Alicante," I admitted, my left hand flicking up to my temple as I suddenly felt dizzy. "We were allowed to watch it twice from afar, but never to approach or set foot in the city."
"Does Valentine have spies in Alicante?" Despite my dazed state of mind, her question made me laugh.
"Of course," I said, trying to sound as mocking as possible. It was her fault that I had to suffer here. She could have arranged this negotiation differently, but she wanted it that way. "It's obvious, isn't it? How could he know so much about internal affairs if he didn't have his spies everywhere?"
A moment later I felt something touch my cheeks. The touches felt as if something had brushed me lightly. "Why is she able to answer my questions with counter-questions?" the Inquisitor's angry voice asked. "How can she respond with such arrogance? She should only be able to give answers and not express her own opinion!"
I suddenly realized that the Inquisitor had grabbed my chin with her fingers and was holding it. I wanted to break free, wanted to raise my arms and push her away from me, but my limbs wouldn't move. Herondale had turned her head, staring at Magnus Bane, who was standing to one side.
"You Nephilim are a bit peculiar," he said, raising his hands in an unknowing gesture. "I've never had to do anything like this before. You asked me to do it. I know no more about it than you do, Inquisitor. She must have a strong spirit, apparently she can put up a fight, at least to an extent."
"I don't want her to be able to put up a fight, though," she snapped at Magnus, pressing her bony fingers harder into my chin. "She should answer without hesitation and without personal feelings, nothing more!"
"You can also just kindly ask her to tell the truth instead of showing her up," Magnus remarked curtly. "I'm not surprised at their dislike of you. Your behavior is comparable to that of Valentine. You just prove the girl the opposite of what you claim to be. You reveal yourself to be exactly what Valentine preached to her all these years."
"Silence now, Bane!" the Inquisitor snapped. "Don't poke your nose too deeply into Shadowhunter business."
Magnus bowed to Herondale in an elegant movement. "You're right, of course, Inquisitor. I'm nothing but a simple warlock." His voice was dripping with mocking.
Sparkling, the Inquisitor turned back to me and released my chin. "No games, kid. I've had enough of you Morgensterns. Did your father leave the estate occasionally?"
I lowered my head and thought of my father. He would certainly hear about this interrogation. Would he hold it against me, or would he blame the Clave? It didn't really matter, I had already left him and I didn't want anything to do with him. He was a monster. And yet he was my father and yet it felt like a betrayal to tell them these things.
"He left the estate now and then, but he didn't tell any of us where he was going. Maybe my mother, I don't know. She just kept telling us he had important things to do," I said emotionlessly, staring straight ahead again. My body was on fire, but none of them seemed to notice. My head was spinning, and yet I always managed to get the words out that she wanted to hear. Maybe they just wanted to see me suffer, after all nobody in this room really liked me. The Lightwoods accepted me, but even they wouldn't stand up for me when the going got rough. Why should they? My father was Valentine Morgenstern and therefore my fate was sealed.
"Very well," said the Inquisitor, and sighed. For a moment I hoped she'd had enough of me for now. "Tell me about your brother Jonathan. What exactly happened to him and what did he do?"
My spirit was locked in the darkest part of my head, far from acting realistically and yet her words felt like a painful slap in the face. I felt my body stiffen further beneath me, more than I had ever thought possible. The image of Jonathan in my mind made my body shake. The only person in this world who still meant anything to me. And now they wanted me to betray him too.
I hesitated and pressed my lips together. I tried to focus on the thoughts in my head, not letting them escape me in the form of words. I clung to every memory and held it back. I fought the spell. It wasn't until I opened my eyes that I realized I had closed them in the first place. My gaze settled on Jace and to my surprise I could see him clearly in front of me. He was silent and stared at me steadily and without pity.
"Answer my question," the Inquisitor demanded harshly. She took a step towards me and her blue eyes blazed with anger.
The pain in my body was driving me insane. Now that I was able to push the dizziness back to a corner of my brain and regain control of my mind, it took a lot of strength to endure the increasing pain. I feared that it would tear me to pieces any second. It was like thousands of swords pierced me at the same time. Like turning the hilt while it was in my body.
I didn't know where I got the power from, but I lifted my head and looked straight into the Inquisitor's eyes. For a split second, I thought I saw a mixture of surprise and horror flicker in her eyes. My voice was completely calm as I managed to utter a single word. "No."
Trouble on the horizon uh oh. What do you think about this chapter? Let me know! :)