Chapter 51 – Brother

For the next few days, I tried to withdraw as much as possible from the lives of the others. The anger and shame still ripped through me as hotly as the moment Jace had broken our kiss and given me that shattering look. Every second around him was agony. It felt like this visit to the Fairy Kingdom had reset our entire relationship to zero. At least from my point of view. I didn't know what he was actually thinking because I only spoke to him when it was absolutely necessary. Regardless of whether in the house of the Lightwoods or while training.

Training in the garden of the Lightwoods was suspended shortly after our return from the Seelie Court by the Inquisitor personally, who had found us a new instructor after the Kadir disaster. Someone willing to follow in Kadir's footsteps. It was none other than his brother Malik.

I hadn't been enthusiastic at first, but it quickly became apparent that – unlike Kadir – he didn't seem to hold a grudge against me. Apparently at least. He treated me exactly the same as Adam and Jace and was only interested in training and evaluating the data on angel blood. He was interested in the abilities that angel blood bestowed on us and quickly figured out what I could do with the runes. So far he hadn't asked me to create a new rune, but I was sure it was only a matter of time before the Consul or the Inquisitor would suggest it. It was still more or less an open secret. Hardly anyone in Alicante knew yet that I could create runes, but the Silent Brothers had informed the Inquisitor about it.

For now, Malik focused on the training that ordinary Shadowhunters went through. He wanted to test all the basics first before he dared to do something bigger.

Outside of practice, I avoided Jace as much as possible. After days of sitting by my side non-stop, it felt strange to be completely alone again. I didn't like it, even though I knew it was the right thing.

The few hours a day that the Inquisitor forced me to be in the same room as Jace and Adam were hell. The dispute with Adam and the silence with Jace fueled my anger, which Malik felt. He had trouble keeping me in check. I wished I could make it easier for him, but I couldn't control my body myself. The only positive effect of that was that I outperformed both Adam and Jace in training. That whirlpool of emotions that I wanted to shove to the back of my mind exploded every time I faced one of them in the ring. No matter whether sword fight, archery or duel. I felt like I was at the peak of my strength; felt like the anger was driving the power in my blood.

Malik disagreed. He didn't think my anger would be the key to my success. Anger fueled you for the moment, but it would always lose to poise and balance if I were to face Jonathan at some point. Because unlike Jace or Adam, Jonathan was my equal. Malik was convinced that my hate wouldn't be enough to defeat Jonathan because he felt at least as much hate. On top of that, I felt like Malik thought my anger would evaporate the moment I actually had to fight Jonathan. He wanted my anger to go away. In his view, the only way to truly defeat your opponent was to be in tune with your own feelings and not let them sway you.

Anger and shame had helped me against Jace and Adam, but I felt none of that against Jonathan. All I felt was sadness, fear and hopelessness. That wouldn't help me in battle. My only alternative would be to push those feelings away and find inner balance. If you took Malik at his word, I should find my damn peace of mind before I stood in my brother's way. Malik spoke quite frankly to me; always told me exactly what was on his mind. I detested it. Probably because I knew he was right. But I wasn't strong enough to break away from this pain. I wasn't strong enough to shed the fact that Jonathan was my brother like a snake would its skin when it bothered it.

With no other choice, I endured the training, trying to ignore both Jace and Adam completely. Harder said than done. Especially when my ignorance wasn't mutual with either of them. Every day since the Fairy Kingdom thing — or the Blake rooftop thing, I couldn't put my finger on it — Adam rang the bell at the Lightwood estate to talk to me. I never opened the door for him because I was in my room most of the time, but Isabelle – against my will – told me every little thing about it. They never let Adam in the house because Isabelle and Jace no longer trusted him after the night at the Ashdown house. He begged for a minute alone with me, which he was denied every day. From what she told me, I could only infer that Isabelle took pleasure in sending Adam away, and from the way she described it, Jace seemed to take his frustration out on him as well. I didn't want to talk to Adam. Not a single word. The need to kill Blake still tickled my fingers.

Then there was Jace, who was even more difficult to avoid since we still shared a floor and lived in the same house. He actually tried to talk to me. Before and after training, when we bumped into each other in the hallway or when we were all sitting at the table eating. This happened occasionally because Maryse wanted to maintain a certain family culture now that the children all seemed to be going in different directions.

Whatever Jace wanted to tell me, I didn't want to hear it. Not a single word of it. I knew it would probably only make my mood worse. If he had something good to say, there wouldn't have been that look. Then he wouldn't have ended that kiss in such a cool, dismissive way. Whatever he wanted to tell me ... he just wanted to make excuses, just explain himself, set things straight. But since I had seen enough, I didn't need any of it. Maybe a part of him felt sorry after breaking away from the kiss and seeing the look in my eyes. I was pretty sure I'd been too taken aback to hide the feelings behind my own facade fast enough. The Queen of the Seelie Court must have had a wonderful time.

When I wasn't killing my time training with Jace and Adam, I spent most of the rest of the day with Isabelle. We also trained and I often repeated with her what we had done in the Gard in the morning. I thought Isabelle was happy to stay in shape as well. Practicing alone wasn't nearly as effective as with a partner. And as the hours passed Isabelle talked like a waterfall. About the Archangel and the world and every gossip she heard in Alicante. Only about the visit to the Seelie Court did she not lose a single word. Or the fact that Jace and I had stopped spending time together as quickly as we had started. She sensed how I felt about it. Though I could sense her curiosity every time Jace attempted a new dialogue. She had an opinion about the kiss and the whole disaster, but held back, which surprised me. The only reason I could think of was that she didn't want to hurt me.

But there was plenty of other stuff to talk about. Thanks to her parents, Isabelle was aware of almost everything that happened in the circles of the Clave, which we did not have access to. She was better than any spy. As it turned out after our return from the Seelie Court, the Clave was beyond dissatisfied with the Seelie Queen's decision. I wondered who had broken the news and how detailed the report had been. Did the Consul and Inquisitor know about the kiss? Even if they did, they were busy with other things at the moment. The Clave raged and the Downworlders in Alicante grew restless. For so many of them, I had hardly met any within the walls.

Some regretted their decision to ally with the Nephilim, others condemned the fairies for their selfishness. The camps were just as divided as in the Clave. Alec worked flat out to get resolutions passed on the Council. The Council's work was currently the only evidence that the unification of both parties was possible. The latest decree involved a unit of Shadowhunters and -worlders to be trained side by side for the war. Such a useful idea that there had been less resistance from the Nephilim than expected. Many of them were now used to the idea that the Shadowworlders were necessary to win a fight against Valentine.

One arrangement the Nephilim had been less than happy about was the feast to be held in the Accords Hall in honor of the new coalition. At first it had just been a small ceremony, where the Shadowworlders and Shadowhunters officially were to shake hands on the new form of the Accords. At least until Isabelle had heard the word ceremony and had offered to help organize it on the Council. From there things had gotten out of hand. Now there was talk of a ball, but I had no idea how Alec was going to push that through to the Inquisitor. Although it would certainly not be bad for the general mood in the city if everyone got closer under more pleasant circumstances. It had been a chilling peace so far, and part of me just waited for Blake and his group to hunt down the Shadowworlders. He must hate having them here.

But Blake wasn't my top priority right now. No longer. Not since Valentine and Jonathan had been spotted in Mexico City. Their attempt to hunt down the remaining werewolves in the city had been thwarted thanks to some brave warlocks who had used portals to teleport the children directly to Alicante. Still, I hadn't had any sleep since Isabelle had meekly told me about it. I couldn't close my eyes anymore and when I did, Jonathan's laughter and the deep blackness of his eyes followed me into my dreams. Erchomai, I am coming. The wait was driving me crazy. When was he going to show up here to end it?

oOo

The wait was over five days after visiting the Seelie Queen. An ordinary day like any other in February. There was no snow when I set off for the Gard far too late. Routine for not having to walk there with Jace. So late that Malik would show up soon and I should be warmed up by then. My mood was bad. Worse than usual, so today my interest in being respectful was zero. Maybe he had felt it and chose this day for that very reason.

The Gard's corridors were deserted as I marched towards the training halls with Eosphoros on my belt. I'd seen some Shadowhunters riding out of the Gard, armed to the teeth. Maybe they'd seen something outside of the city.

My footsteps echoed across the polished stone, low and loud, and the swish of my cape sent a crackling sound down the hall. I pushed open the door to the gym and the corners of my mouth were already turned down, my face frozen into an indifferent mask because I had nothing to say to Jace other than that I didn't care. The wooden door opened silently, and my feet skidded to a halt as I tried to process the image in front of my eyes.

Jace lay on the spread blue training mats, his combat gear torn and his blond hair tousled into strands of blood red. His breathing was ragged – so loud I could hear it across the hall – and he pressed his fingers against a hole in his chest that was spurting more and more blood. Red, so red I couldn't see anything else for a moment. Then my eyes moved sideways and his seraph blade came into view. It lay a good distance away from him as if someone had knocked it out of his hand.

My head snapped up, so suddenly I heard the bones in my neck crack. And there he was. Jonathan. Bent over Jace and holding Phosphoros in his right hand; outstretched as if he was going to strike Jace down at any moment. His white-blonde hair was so light it reminded me of the snow outside. Erchomai, I am coming. And finally the time had come.

My feet moved of their own accord. Too fast for me to act otherwise. One second I was standing at the door, the other I had Eosphoros in my hand and was running.

Phosphoros stirred in Jonathan's hand, slashing through the air as if it could cleave the oxygen itself. Jace stared at the ceiling as if he had already accepted his death. The blade raced toward his chest. A rending bang of metal went through the hall as Jonathan's blade met mine. The blow vibrated through my body, pounding in my ears and shaking my hands, both of which clenched Eosphoros's grip to sustain the parry.

Both Jonathan and Jace turned their heads toward me as if my presence had remained hidden from them until now. The balance in the room shifted. I planted my boots in the ground and stood upright while Jonathan drew Phosphoros back in surprise as he registered me. None of them had heard me coming. But the element of surprise was already over. Jonathan, whom I had only seen in my dreams for weeks, balanced his sword in his hand, relaxed his shoulders and showed me his sparkling white teeth. His grin sent chills down my spine and brought tears to my eyes in the same breath. This was still my brother's shell.

"Clarissa. I'm so glad to finally see you again", Jonathan said with a satisfied voice. "As you can see, I've almost gotten rid of this Herondale, but you had to interrupt."

I didn't answer. Every word that came out of my throat would sound rusty and unstable because that's how I felt. Jonathan took a step back and I allowed myself a sideways glance down at Jace. Fear reflected in his golden-framed pupils. Not because he feared Jonathan or death. He looked ready to turn on his heel with me. As if he would be afraid in my place. Or for me. The realization hit me like a blow. Jace was afraid for me.

"He's well trained, I'll give him that." Jonathan picked up Phosphoros and ran his thumb along the blade, wiping Jace's blood away and looking at the bright red drop on his fingertip. "He stalled me like he was buying time. Probably because he knew you'd help him. I'd be lying if I said I'm not disappointed in your reaction. The last time we saw one another you hated each other and now ..."

"He still hates me," I stated matter-of-factly, cocking my head. "That doesn't mean I'll watch you slaughter innocents. Enough with that, Jonathan. Enough."

"Hm, I don't think he hates you," Jonathan mumbled and the grin disappeared from his angular face, which looked even more cruel than last time. His deep black eyes, which never seemed to end, studied Jace with such intensity that my knees began to tremble. "I think you've lived among them far too long."

"I told you you were wrong," Jace gasped and doubled over as if just the movement of his lips would send pain shooting through his body. I wanted to bend down to examine his wound, but with Jonathan within arm's reach, I couldn't act rashly. Jonathan would not like me helping his enemy. And it had been so long since I'd seen him that I had no idea how much control he had of that anger inside him.

"Shut up!" Jonathan hissed as if in answer to my silent question, his tone so riddled with hatred that I involuntarily took a step forward when he swung his foot out to kick at Jace. "Get out of my way, Clarissa!"

"I certainly won't." I sounded more confident, more determined than I felt.

Another growl escaped Jonathan and when he stretched out his arm this time, Phosphoros was in his hand. Ready to hunt me down too. "It's not the first time you're willing to give your life for that Herondale boy. By the way, father's sorry that one of the demons that surprised you at the estate attacked you. They were under orders to leave you alone."

"Were you there?" The wound in my stomach throbbed even though it had long since healed. The last time I had tried to save Jace's life. I wondered if I would die repeating it again today.

Jonathan shook his head. "I think you deserve the injury. And again, you didn't get the lesson. I know who you used to be, sister. I think you forgot who you are. You forgot whose side you're on. I'm here to remind you and to bring you back home."

"Home," I mumbled under my breath. I stared into Jonathan's dark eyes, searching for emotion, for life, for anything. There was nothing but emptiness and guided anger that couldn't be of this world. "I have no home. Since the point you murdered our mother, the last thing I called home shattered. So forgive me if I'm not interested in following you anywhere."

"I told father there was a chance to get a reaction like that from you," Jonathan said, shrugging as if none of this mattered to him. "He's convinced that if you had to live under the Clave long enough, you'd change your mind. If only you had to endure their agony long enough. He was wrong. You're weak. Weak and not worthy of our line, if you think that way. He may have a problem harming you, but I'm above those things. I'll do what's necessary."

"Try it then." I bent the knees, kicking my feet into a defensive stance, lifting Eosphoros in front of me, my blade opposite his. Waiting.

Jonathan didn't delay his attack, he lunged in my direction without giving me a second to think. Our swords banged against each other, sparks raining down on our wrists as the keen blades scraped against each other. Jonathan twisted his wrist in an attempt to slap Eosphoros out of my hand, but I jumped aside to lure him away from Jace.

The door to the hall opened once more as Jonathan followed me with a brisk movement and launched another attack. I parried, again having to wrap both hands around the hilt to counterbalance his raw power. Now that Jonathan had his back to the door, I had a more or less clear view of Adam, who – like me – remained motionless in the frame for a moment. Even though we were at least twenty meters apart, I could see the sheer horror reflected in his green eyes.

Adam rushed towards Jace, knelt down beside him and inspected the wound in his chest. Then he slung one of his arms over his shoulders and hoisted him in the opposite direction. Away from us. Jace began to groan and Jonathan broke off his maneuver to spin around. His brows drew together in dissatisfaction, and he pressed his front teeth into his lower lip so hard that it began to bleed. As if he couldn't contain the anger boiling up in his body any longer.

"You useless creatures have already done enough damage," Jonathan hissed and marched towards the two as if I no longer existed. Like he was not afraid to turn his back on me. I knew I had to stop him from reaching Jace and Adam. They wouldn't last a minute against him.

I dove after Jonathan, Eosphoros stretched out beside me like an extended arm. Now that his attention was no longer on me, a tremor settled in my fingers. My feet approached Jonathan, who reared Phosphorus menacingly, as if he would chop off Adam's head as soon as he got within range. Adam was still dragging Jace with him, leaving only one arm free to defend himself.

"Jonathan!" My shout didn't stop him. He had succumbed to a bloodlust like a shark scenting the scent of its prey.

Jace began to shake and Adam staggered. Jace lifted his head, turned it in our direction, saw Jonathan and then looked at me. A groan escaped his throat and he pressed his hands to Adam's chest as if trying to tear himself away. They had almost reached the side of the door. "Let go of me ..." he gasped, and I started to sprint, hearing the anger inside his voice. "Help her!"

Jonathan slowed his steps as if waiting for Adam's reaction. I, on the other hand, didn't wait. I channeled all my strength into Eosphoros and would have smashed it through Jonathan's back if he hadn't turned on his heel in a flash to dodge. Audibility runes. Naturally. A look at his exposed body parts revealed a handful of different runes, all of which I was missing because I still didn't have my stele back and ever since my radio silence with Jace, I had refused to take any more runes from him.

I had brought Jonathan's focus back to me and he seemed even more enraged at the ambush than at the abandonment of his actual hunt. I had to stay the target. I couldn't let him drag others into this. This was something just between us. So I lunged at my brother and put all my strength into the next punch that tripped Jonathan. A quick glance out of the corner of my eye told me that Adam had reached the wall and Jace was now leaning his back against it. They both stared at us, Adam with his fingers on his sword as if unsure whether to stay with Jace or help me. I hoped he chose the former.

Jonathan and I fought a battle of powerful swings, rapid turns and long jumps. This wasn't the pinnacle of both of our strengths; I was missing the runes and he didn't seem fully rested, as if his incursion into Alicante had already cost him some effort. We whirled around each other, dodging offensives, forcing every strength into our own campaign. For a long time neither of us seemed to get the upper hand. We knew all of the other's tricks. We knew each other. When I looked at Jonathan, I saw years of training sessions in the back garden of our estate. If I tuned out our surroundings, this could have been just another of those days.

In the long run, the odds were worse for me. Jonathan might not be fully rested, but he had his runes to compensate for this disadvantage. My muscles were already burning tirelessly, sweat was pouring down the back of my neck and exhaustion was tugging at me. I lacked stamina, speed, strength. Without the runes, I might have been better than average, but no better than Jonathan.

I felt failure coursing through my veins even before Jonathan twisted his wrist and shoved Eosphoros out of my hand. The tip of his blade sliced across the inside of my right hand and I hastily jumped back, out of his reach. My sword hit the ground somewhere to the right and slid off, too far away for me to get there without being slashed open by Jonathan.

My knees hit the ground and I allowed myself a moment, raising my head to register Jonathan's position. He stood right where he had knocked Eosphoros out of my hand and stared down at me. Triumph sparkled in his obsidian eyes, but he made no move to end me here and now. Instead, he lifted his lips in a smirk as if amused.

I stretched out my right hand and examined the blood that flowed from the long but shallow cut. My skin burned where Phosphoros had severed it. Jonathan was still standing there, almost frozen, and I eyed him through half-closed eyes. He had his sword sheathed. Maybe he had changed his mind about my death after all.

"Get up," Jonathan commanded and I obeyed. I wiped the blood on my outfit and risked a look over at Jace and Adam. Jonathan had managed to nudge me in their direction.

Jace's golden eyes flickered as if he was having trouble not passing out. Still, he was half-rising from his sitting position, his arms braced heavily against the wall. Our eyes met and I knew he wanted to run over to me. I was unarmed. Jonathan would either take me away or execute me. He struggled to resist Adam's clutching grip trying to hold him back. I couldn't help but be grateful to him, whether we were on war footing or not.

"How touching your friends are," Jonathan whispered and I jerked my head back in his direction. He looked at Jace and laughed at the apparent weakness and lack of strength; he laughed that Jace wouldn't be able to save my life after I had already saved his more than once.

Something about Jonathan's callous amusement pricked my senses. The atmosphere in the room changed, as if the air were changing its temperature, and I couldn't shake the oppressive premonition that Jonathan was about to do something terrible. A gut feeling I trusted. I still had to keep him from reaching Jace and Adam. Malik should have been here long ago to take them to safety. But there was no trace of him. That couldn't be a coincidence.

The weight of Jonathan's legs shifted and I followed the movement with my eyes. A moment ago his body was aligned in my direction, but now his focus shifted imperceptibly. No more than a barely noticeable shift of his hips to the side; to the wall where Jace and Adam were standing. I matched his movement, followed it and took a step towards Jonathan. Being closer meant narrowing his field of vision further.

Jonathan was still grinning – a smile that twisted his lips and turned his face into a scary mask – as his fingers slowly and visibly slid to his weapon-belt and closed around a charcoal gray dagger. "I won't kill you, dear sister," he finally declared, and I knew that death was more merciful than being left in his care. That demon would know worse things to do with me. Jonathan twirled the dagger between his fingers as if it were nothing but a toy. "It would be a shame if the fun ended so quickly. But that's kind of unavoidable, because I always hit the mark."

A throw from the back of his hand intended to miss the obvious target on purpose. Just like I had taught Isabelle a few weeks ago. Jonathan threw the dagger and the silence was broken by the sound of metal slicing through the air. I jumped to the side, not to avoid it, but to face the real target. The blade was too fast to catch easily, but slow enough not to do major damage if you tried. That alone should have made me suspicious.

The dagger hissed toward Jace and Adam, and I threw myself in its path, holding up my hands to stop it. Someone behind me yelled and cursed. Ice broke my skin and I gasped as my fingers closed around the knife. The impact made me stumble backwards. Pain made my blood howl. A wall of white blazed in front of my eyes for a moment as the contact blinded me and yanked all oxygen from my lungs. I had caught a dagger out of mid-air; something that wasn't possible with an aimed, lightning-fast, precise throw.

Jace growled behind me and I heard him flop to his knees, his feet unable to support his weight. Adam mumbled something too quietly to hear. The burned smell of a stele enveloped me. Adam had to try to heal Jace with an Iratze.

"What a bold rescue instinct you have, Clarissa," Jonathan laughed without any sympathy in his voice. On the contrary, he seemed angry about this because I had proven once again that my allegiance wan't with him.

"You wanted me to catch the dagger," I blurted out, confused. Hot blood spurted out of my palms, which now seemed to have no end. So much blood I couldn't see my skin. The wounds seethed and a convulsive bolt of lightning shot through my arm. "You could have thrown it a lot quicker."

"Well recognized, sister." Jonathan's grin turned into a more honest, detached smile. He whipped out Phosphoros and a shiver ran down my spine at the same time as another spasmodic stabbing pain ran through my legs.

"What's your point? This isn't your style." Something spread in my blood. Hot and painful. I began to stagger and stared down at myself, amazed. My brain raced at full speed to pinpoint the source of my weakness. Why did my muscles suddenly have trouble staying upright?

"Did you know that my blood is toxic?" Jonathan asked next and the words made my temples pound. His lips parted serenely and his glaring teeth flashed at me. My limbs refused to serve under me. "The dagger was poisoned."

I have failed. That was the only thought running through my head as my knees buckled beneath me and the ground rolled toward me. I fell backwards, hit on one of the exercise mats with the back of my head and stared at the ceiling. My body had stopped working, and I felt little more than a dull, heavy network of nerves.

"Nothing life-threatening, but strong enough to knock you out." Jonathan laughed distortedly. Silence fell in the hall. A silence so devastating that Jace's rattling breath gave me goosebumps. As if this was all one big show that Jonathan had put on. For what? Just to take me back to our father?

Jace growled again, louder this time, angrier this time. I turned my head and our eyes met again. Adam hadn't managed to heal him with his stele yet. Jace crawled toward me on all fours, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. Panic flickered in his eyes; a helpless panic that I had never seen there before. He couldn't do anything, he was just as incapacitated as I was. And then Jonathan was already standing over me. Phosphoros reflected the light of the training hall almost invitingly.

"Help her," Jace pleaded, his voice no more than a croak. "Help her, Adam."

Adam, thrown off course by my defeat, suddenly broke his rigidity. He let go of the stele carelessly, grabbed his seraph blade, and sprinted toward Jonathan, not giving a second thought to the fact that he would lose like we did. Jonathan jumped back and somewhere out of my sight two swords slammed into each other, filling the air with their burning smell of iron and sweat.

However, my eyes were still on Jace, who had now reached me and collapsed next to me, as if the few meters had drained all his strength. He rolled onto his back with an effort and spat blood onto his clothes. "Ironic that all I ever thought about was how we're going to defeat him and not how we're going to bite the dust," Jace muttered, his hoarse laugh making his chest tremble.

"And I feared it would end just this way," I replied, but my words were barely audible through the poison. The thunder of swords approached us, and I turned my head away from Jace to see Adam's shock of brown hair fly past the edge of my vision. I prayed to the Archangel himself that Malik would finally show up. I wouldn't forgive myself if Adam died at Jonathan's hands.

Something touched my cheek and I flinched, at least I tried to, but it was harder than I thought. My eyes swung to the side and met Jace's, who was watching me with a sudden pang of sadness. His bloody fingers brushed my cheek, a soothing, comforting rhythm. I could feel the sticky blood he left on my skin. Jace was bending over me and I knew it would only cause him to bleed out faster.

Dozens of different thoughts raced through my head, but I couldn't bring myself to say any of them. Not now. I felt like Jace didn't have enough time to answer my questions. Tears blurred my vision, mixing with his blood as they ran down my face. "I'm sorry you have to die because of me."

Jace's hand closed around mine and squeezed it harder than I would have given him credit for in this state. His face looked sallow and pale, as if the blood had already drained too far. He looked like he wouldn't survive the next five minutes. "We're not going to die, Clary," he said confidently, grinning. "We lost today's fight, but we'll still win the war."

That had to be the last surge of adrenaline rushing through him before it was actually over. I had read about it a few times but never really believed it because it made no sense. Why would the body store a few last reserves of energy only to release them all at once? But now, as I stared into Jace's face, conviction blazing in his golden eyes, the very thought that he was about to die made me cry. My body shook beneath me and I couldn't hold back the sobs. Jace would die. Next Adam would die. And then Jonathan would take me somewhere. I wish he would just kill me too, but I knew I couldn't die. Not after he was responsible for their deaths. I thought of Isabelle waiting somewhere out in Alicante, thought of Alec and the many other lives that would be destroyed if it all ended today.

"Stop crying." Jace's trembling fingers wiped away the tears, which were immediately replaced by new ones. "I have a plan. We can still turn this. You can still turn it."

I tried to stop, but my body was in shock. My breathing was too rapid, but I couldn't find the strength to steady it. Panic took hold of me. Jace's hand left my face and a fit of coughing shook him. I narrowed my eyes, concentrating on the wreckage of my body beneath me, trying to feel the muscles that had just failed. The nerves there only seemed to correspond to my brain in a limited extent. Leaning on my hand was a task that took me at least half a minute. Every fiber in me burned. My muscles reluctantly stretched apart, as if they would tear in two with just an ounce more exertion. I finally found myself in a half-sitting, half-lying position, looking down at Jace.

"Jace. What's your plan?" The syllables lined up oddly. The real meaning of the words was almost lost in the limited way I could move my mouth.

Instead of answering me, Jace pushed something into my hand. An object so cool against the hot, bleeding palms of my hands that I breathed a sigh of relief. His stele. The power of the stele flowed through me, as it did every time I touched adamas. And although I didn't draw anything, I felt like I was better able to cope with the spasm of pain in my veins that was crippling me. All at once I could see everything clearly. I could see Jace's idea taking shape before my eyes.

Adam roared and we watched in horror as Phosphoros left a long orthogonal gash in his chest. His feet staggered, unwilling to find a footing, and I could already see Jonathan ramming his sword through his abdomen next to finish him off. But that didn't happen, because the doors were thrown open and a tremor burst into the hall, distracting Jonathan from Adam for a second.

Malik stood in the doorway, his eyes wide as he took in the deadly chaos that unfolded before him. His hand was already resting on his sword. He looked at Jonathan, who tried to assess him as well. Malik then ran and aimed to fight Jonathan while Adam retreated against the nearest wooden bench to assess his injury.

"Seems like you don't need to use your runes after all," Jace stated, his voice barely above a breath of wind. It ran cold down my spine. I forced him to meet my gaze, but the strength from earlier was already gone. He smiled faintly and reached out to my face with his blood-red fingers, already swollen from all the moisture. This was the end.

My fingers starting to tingle, I leaned in his direction and acted without a second thought. When the stele was in my hand, an ancient, out-of-this-world instinct took over. The hard, cold adamas hit Jace's skin and he flinched as I began to draw. Heal, heal, heal!, was all my mind screamed. When I finished the Iratze, I stared expectantly at his skin, at the hole in his lower abdomen, from which blood spurted incessantly. Nothing. My fingers cramped and I felt like throwing the stele across the room as Jonathan's blood rushed through my body and continued to fight against my system. Why didn't the Iratze work?

"Adam already tried that," Jace said weakly, failing to interlace his fingers with mine. He was too weak. Soon he would be too weak to breathe. "Jonathan must've poisoned his sword too."

As if on cue, Jonathan began cursing out loud. More Nephilim poured into the training hall. Malik parried blow after blow and returned Jonathan's attacks with such raw power that Jonathan had to clench his teeth to keep from losing ground. I couldn't help but admire Malik for his strength.

Jonathan ducked under one of Malik's punches and elbowed him in the side. Malik gasped and for a second broke with the practiced choreography that Jonathan could have used to strike him down. Instead, he turned on his heel and sprinted my way. A bottomless rage burned in his pitch-black eyes. That's when I saw the ring on his finger. He would just vanish in front of them all and take me with him, like he and Valentine had done at the New York Institute.

Twenty meters. I did the first thing that came to mind. My limbs were slow. Slower than Jonathan's hectic steps. Defying reality, I raised my stele in the air and began to draw again. This was Jace's idea. This was his original use for the stele.

Ten meters. Jonathan widened his eyes when he realized what I was up to and started a final sprint. His boots stomped towards me, setting the entire floor in motion. His venom ran through my veins at least as fast, trying to block my muscles. Jonathan's mask of inhuman rage was fixed on me, and I mulled over a hundred things he would do to me if he got to me before my rune got to him.

Three meters. I let go of the stele as if it had burned me and pushed the rune in Jonathan's direction. He skidded to a halt as a sea of lapis blue sparks appeared out of nowhere in front of him. I blinked once and Jonathan's form in front of me disappeared behind the flickering portal, whose sighing noise seemed to absorb all other sounds in the hall. The portal moved toward Jonathan, just as the rune had moved toward him. I heard him curse on the other side; heard his terrible roar cut through the silence, then suddenly cut off as the portal swallowed him.

I didn't watch the portal close. Instead, I screamed for help, so loud I felt my lungs collapse. The Silent Brothers had to save Jace before it was too late.

Only when two Nephilim approached us did I stop. It wasn't until they examined Jace, picked him up, and carried him away that I allowed myself to drop onto the exercise mats. Chaos had broken out around me, but I didn't care. My heart pounded loud enough to block them all out. Jonathan's blood continued to lash through my body and now I left it at that.

All I could think about was that Jonathan had found a way into the heart of Alicante. He had been here. He had tried to kidnap me and almost killed Jace in the process. If Jace was still alive. My last memory of him was a limp body next to mine after the portal had closed. I tried not to think about the Shadowhunters' faces, which had closed as soon as they had examined Jace. I didn't want to think about what if he was actually dead. How was I supposed to live with myself then? I had ignored him for days and now I might have to live with that fact.

My mind raced. My poisoned brain found neither beginning nor end. It felt like I was floating in mid-air, a few feet off the ground. Jonathan's angry face appeared in my mind's eye. So many questions remained. It had to be the Shadowhunter blood in him that had allowed him to enter the city. There was no other explanation. That means, there is still human in him. That meant he could come back whenever he wanted. He might try to get me again tomorrow. He could break into our house at night to murder us all in our sleep. So many variables that couldn't be calculated. So many possibilities that it was never possible to cover them all.

"Clary." Adam's voice caught my ear, but the venom made my limbs leaden. The exhaustion was too great for me to turn to face him. I was glad he was alive. I was grateful that he had stood in Jonathan's way to buy us time.

"Malik!" Adam called and a few moments later someone picked me up. I lay like a heavy, motionless sack in Malik's arms, who studied me with restless eyes. He started moving and my head rolled sideways with gravity. Adam hobbled along next to Malik. His chest was bleeding, but I was close enough to see the wound wasn't deep. He was probably just as poisoned as Jace and I, though. That explained the clumsy gait.

Adam's olive green eyes wandered to mine and an reassuring smile spread across his smooth features. "Today we all can't avoid a visit to the Basilias."

I didn't smile back. Instead, I closed my eyes and listened to the Nephilim we passed on the way to the Basilias. The Gard was in turmoil. They all whispered at once. Confused scraps of words lined up and always resulted in the same two sentences.

Jonathan Morgenstern has infiltrated the Gard. Jonathan Morgenstern was here.

A chapter full of action, a little Clace and Jonathan? You're welcome, dear readers! No, for real, I hope you liked this chapter! :) Please let me know in the comments. Also a huge thank you to all the people who comment my chapters already! I love you guys and I read all of them, and answer most of the time! :)

If you want to know how I imagine the characters of this fanfic, then go check out my Pinterest page. My name there is ccskyllen and I have a whole folder dedicated to TROTM and its protagonists! :)

See you next week
Skyllen :)