Chapter Five

The party was in full swing, and Lexie was the star of the show. She certainly knew it too, and was abusing her power, in Clary's opinion. So far, she had played peek-a-boo a grand total of thirty-two times, made a huge mess by smashing fruit on her tray table, and cried any time someone wasn't paying attention to her. Currently, she was on the floor with Jace and Maryse, crawling back and forth between them and leaping on their laps. Clary watched them from one end of the table, smiling as Lexie squealed from Jace tickling her.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket; it was a text from Alec. Really sorry, something came up and I can't make it. Magnus and the kids are on the way.

She replied with, No problem. Everything okay?, but there was no response. She tucked her phone back into her pocket, chewing her lip.

"Hey," said Isabelle, coming over to load up her plate with more cheese and crackers. "What are you doing all by yourself over here?"

"Just enjoying the view," Clary said, gazing at Lexie, who had now crawled over to Simon and was tugging relentlessly on his shoelace.

"Hmm." Clary glanced at Isabelle; she was wrinkling her nose. "Does the cheese smell off to you?"

"No," said Clary, perplexed. "Smells okay."

Isabelle frowned. "Maybe it's too strong. I should have gotten a milder one."

"Izzy, it's fine," Clary reassured her. "All of this is perfect. I really can't thank you enough."

A chorus of laughter went up from the other side of the room. Lexie had somehow gotten hold of Simon's shoe and was crawling as fast as she could while Simon hopped after her. Jace scooped her up, gagging as she waved the shoe in his face. "By the Angel, Simon, wash your feet!"

"Wash yours!" Simon said, blushing deep red as he snatched the shoe out of Lexie's grip.

"Ah! Ah!" Lexie protested, reaching for it again. Her face crumpled; clearly, a meltdown was incoming.

Maryse swooped in. "Who wants to play a game? Does Lexie want to play?"

Lexie kicked excitedly in Jace's arms. "Ga!" she said, which was as close to "Grandma" as she could get, and Maryse settled her on the ground for yet another game of peek-a-boo.

Jace caught Clary's eye across the room and came over to her. "It's so nice having all these people around to distract her," he said, grinning. "Can we do this every day?"

"I don't think even Izzy could make a party like this happen every day," Clary said with a laugh.

Jace's smile softened as he took her hand. "How are you feeling now?" he asked, lowering his voice so only she could hear him.

She pulled her hand out of his. "I already said I don't want to talk about this," she said quietly.

His smile vanished altogether. "Right," he said, and now there was an undercurrent of irritation in his voice. "You keep saying that, and then—"

"And then what?" Clary said, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

Jace sighed. "Forget it." He glanced at his watch. "It's not like Alec to be this late."

"He's not coming," said Clary shortly. "He just texted."

Frowning, Jace said, "Did he say why?"

"No."

Clary moved to walk away, but Jace caught at her hand again. "Clary—"

"What?" she snapped. The noise at the other end of the room quieted. Clary glanced over and put on a smile. "We can talk later," she muttered to Jace out of the corner of her mouth. "I'm not ruining Lexie's birthday with this."

"Fine," he said quietly. "But I'm holding you to that."

Clary set her jaw and pulled away from him. She could feel his gaze on her, like a burning brand on the back of her neck, as she sat down with Lexie and Maryse. She forced herself to smile even wider and pushed her thoughts of Jace down with the rest of her feelings, trying not to notice how they made her stomach churn.

Alec had never had an odder houseguest. The faerie sat stiffly on the sofa, his gaze sweeping the apartment disinterestedly. With his elegant purple robe and cleanly shaved head, he looked utterly out of place among the whimsically colorful cushions and throw blankets. A mug of tea sat untouched beside him.

"So, Adrastos—" Alec began, coming over with his own cup of tea.

"Dras."

"Dras," Alec amended, sitting down opposite him. "You said you had information for me."

"Yes." Dras folded his hands in his lap, looking very formal. "First, you must know that I serve the Seelie Queen."

"Really?" said Alec, intrigued. "I didn't think the queen liked...Shadowhunters much." He had thought to say "me," but decided that the less Dras knew about his and his friends' tumultuous history with the queen, the better.

"I am not here on her behalf," Dras clarified, "but it was on her orders that I discovered the information I am about to share. I was duty-bound to report my findings to her, but I thought it dishonorable to keep the truth from you."

"And why is that?"

Dras drew in a breath. "A dark force is rising in Faerie," he said. "A group of fey have allied with a warlock and are preparing a ritual. They are calling themselves the Scourge of Raziel."

Alec set his tea down. "The Scourge of Raziel," he repeated slowly. "So you think they're planning something to do with Shadowhunters?"

"I believe so, yes," said Dras. "Though what that is, I cannot say for certain."

"Tell me about this warlock," Alec said.

"There is little to tell. His name is Caladrius, but my contacts both within and without Faerie have not seen or heard of him. Whomever he is, he is keeping to the shadows."

"Then how did you come to know of him?" asked Alec.

Dras gave a wry smile. "Caladrius is, in some respects, wise," he said. "He chose as his followers young minds—impressionable, easily swayed, and willing to do his bidding without a second thought. What he did not consider is that young people talk." His smile grew into a smirk. "Everything I know, I learned because they spoke to one another out in the open, singing the praises of their leader." He frowned slightly. "Unfortunately, they were intelligent enough not to reveal any important details. I still do not know what their ultimate goal is."

"Do you have any names?" said Alec, picking up a pen and notepad. "Or any information about the Scourge's members, anything that can help us understand who they are and what they want?"

"I know of only one," said Dras. "He is called Orrin. He seems to be Caladrius's second-in-command. The faeries answer to him when Caladrius is not present."

"Have you seen Caladrius at all?"

Dras shook his head. "If he has been in Faerie, and I think it likely he has, he has taken great care to not be found."

Alec sat back, thinking hard. Then he stood and retrieved a folder from the shelf where they kept all their Alliance notes. He pulled out pictures from the murders of Nyle Reynolds and Johanna Price. "What do you know about these killings?" he asked Dras.

Dras picked up a couple of the photos, inspecting them. "I am afraid these are unfamiliar to me." He glanced up at Alec. "You believe they are connected to the Scourge?"

Alec nodded. "Whoever killed them couldn't have done it alone. And we found this at one of the crime scenes." He handed the silvershadow leaf to Dras. "Do you know what it is?"

"No," said Dras, "but I have seen it before. There was a collection of vines with these leaves in one of the places where the Scourge meets." He looked again at the photos. "Their hearts were taken," he noted indifferently, as if it were simply a curious detail.

"We think it's part of the ritual," Alec said. "But so far, that's all we know about it."

Dras set the photos down; for the first time since his arrival, he looked troubled.

"Is everything all right?" Alec asked.

"I hoped you might already know," said Dras quietly, "and that I would not have to tell you."

"Tell me what?" said Alec uncertainly.

Dras bit his lip, then straightened, as if steeling himself; it was an oddly human gesture. "It concerns your friends," he said. "Jace Herondale and Clary Fairchild."

"Aunt Clary! Aunt Clary!"

Max was tugging on her sleeve. "Aunt Clary, guess what?" he said, bouncing on his heels. "Rafe and I helped pick out Lexie's present! Can we give it to her now?"

Clary smiled down at him. "I think we're cutting the cake in a minute, but yours can be the first present we open, okay?"

Clearly, Max had stopped listening halfway through her sentence, because his eyes widened and he shouted, "CAAAAKE!" He tore across the room and plowed straight into Rafael; they went down in a tangle of limbs. Clary winced.

"I don't suppose there's any way to convince you not to give my children sugar?" Magnus said, looking pained. "They have too much energy as it is."

Clary gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Magnus. A birthday party demands cake."

"Well, it'll be Alec's job to put them to bed, then," said Magnus. They both laughed.

"Where is Alec, anyway?" Clary asked.

Magnus shrugged unconcernedly. "He had to handle a little business."

"Oh. Nothing serious, I hope?"

"I don't think so," Magnus assured her. "He'll probably stop by later."

A glow at the other end of the room caught Clary's eye; Jace had entered with the cake, which had a single lit candle stuck in the center of it. Simon picked Lexie up and set her in her high chair. She kicked her legs excitedly. "Happy birthday to you..." they all sang together.

They all gathered around Lexie's high chair. Clary joined Jace by Lexie's side as he set the cake in front of her. Her eyes went very round and she reached for the candle; "No!" said Clary and Jace together, grabbing her hands. She pouted.

"Happy birthday to you!" everyone finished. Clary caught Jace's eye over the cake; he grinned at her, and for a moment it felt completely normal. They blew out the candle together.

Lexie reached for the cake again, but Jace pulled it out of her reach before she could smash it. He began to cut a neat slice. It smelled very sweet; Clary was not looking forward to the sugar rush that would inevitably follow for all the kids. Beside her, Isabelle was also making a face, her hand pressed to her mouth. Clary surveyed her, curious.

Jace slid the slice onto a paper plate and put it on the tray of Lexie's high chair. "Birthday girl gets the first bite!" he said, holding up a forkful. Lexie opened her mouth dutifully and accepted the bite, chewing thoughtfully. Then her face split into a huge smile and she slapped both hands down into the slice, spattering Jace with frosting.

"We probably should have seen that coming," said Jace resignedly, wiping frosting off his cheek.

Delighted, Lexie stuck a fistful of cake in her mouth. "Kay!" she said, sounding muffled through her mouthful. Spit dribbled down her chin. Isabelle wrinkled her nose. Clary watched her, piecing things together—the incident with the cheese, and how she looked slightly green...

"Uncle Jace!" Max said, jumping up and down. "Uncle Jace, can I have mine next?"

"Sure you can, kiddo," said Jace, ruffling Max's hair.

While Jace continued to distribute cake, Clary pulled Isabelle aside. "Are you feeling okay, Izzy?" she asked in an undertone.

"Yeah," said Isabelle, looking confused. "Why?"

"You seem...off," Clary said.

Isabelle tilted her head. "No, I'm okay," she said slowly. "I'm just a little..." Her eyes widened. "Nauseous. I'm nauseous! And tired, and—by the Angel. Do you have a pregnancy test?"

"In the upstairs bathroom," said Clary. "Do you want me to—"

"No, no, it's okay, I'll take Simon," Isabelle said. Her face was shining with excitement.

Clary squeezed her hand. "Good luck," she said.

Isabelle gave a nervous smile and went over to Simon. She whispered something in his ear; his eyes lit up and he followed her out.

"Where are they off to?" Jace asked, handing Clary a slice of cake.

"It's a secret," she said, smiling. Jace didn't return the smile. "What? I was joking. It's nothing."

"Secrets," he said quietly. "Why are there so many secrets with you?"

"What are you talking about?" Clary said.

"You used to talk to me," he said, his voice low. "Now you're just...closed-off. I don't know how to talk to you anymore."

Clary clenched her jaw. "We're not doing this right now. I said we'd talk after the party."

Jace shook his head. "And there you go, shutting me down again—"

"There's a time and place," Clary said angrily. "This is neither." She shoved the plate back into his hands. "And maybe if you didn't push me so hard, I would talk to you."

"We both know that's not true," said Jace. "You can't avoid things forever."

"Watch me," said Clary quietly.

Jace sighed. "I'm just trying to help you."

"I don't need to be babied," Clary snapped. She felt someone's eyes on her and looked up; her mother was watching her. Without another word to Jace, she walked away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jace drop the uneaten slice of cake into the trash and lean wearily against the wall.

"I'm going to have a fun time cleaning Lexie up later, aren't I?" she said to Jocelyn, hearing her voice turn overly chipper.

"You should have seen what a mess you were after your first birthday," Jocelyn said ruefully. She touched Clary's elbow and added in a lower voice, "Is everything okay with you and Jace?"

Clary plastered a smile on her face. "We were just disagreeing about how long to let Lexie stay up tonight. He wants to celebrate a little longer, and I want to keep her schedule the way it is." She forced a laugh.

Jocelyn grinned. "I'm on your side. Getting a baby off her schedule is a sure way to ruin your whole week."

Clary gazed over at Lexie, who was still chewing happily on globs of cake. "She's adorable, isn't—no, Lexie, don't put your hands in your hair!"

"Tell me again," said Simon.

They were sitting on the bathroom floor; the pregnancy test was on the counter above their heads. Isabelle figured that if she couldn't see it, she wouldn't keep trying to guess if it was positive.

"I'm nauseous," she said. "And I think my sense of smell is stronger, and I've been feeling kind of worn out..."

"You really think this could be it?"

Isabelle chanced a look at Simon; his expression was full of optimism.

"Let's not get our hopes up," she said gently. "It could just be PMS. I don't want you to be disappointed."

"I know," Simon said, kneading his fingers, "I know I shouldn't jump the gun, but—God, what if it's real?" He grinned at her. "We could be parents, Iz."

Isabelle couldn't stop herself from smiling. Despite all her caution, she really did have a good feeling. But all she said was, "Let's just wait and see what the test says, okay?"

After the longest three minutes Isabelle had ever experienced, the timer rang. Simon squeezed Isabelle's hand. "Ready?"

She drew in a shaking breath; he smiled at her. Isabelle stood up, pulling him up with her, and they both looked down at the test.

"Oh." Simon picked it up, squinting at it. "It's...negative."

Isabelle snatched it out of his hands. "No," she said. "That could be a second line. See it? It's really faint, but it could be."

"I...I don't think it is," said Simon.

Isabelle peered at the test, angling it to see if it looked positive in a different light.

"Izzy," Simon said softly.

Finally, Isabelle was forced to acknowledge that there was no second line. It was negative. Like nearly every test she had taken each month for the past year.

"Damn it," she mumbled, squeezing the test in her fist. "Damn it!" She flung the test into the trash, her eyes burning.

"Iz..." Simon reached for her, but she dropped back down onto the floor, drawing her knees up. "Iz, come on. What happened to not getting our hopes up?"

"It's not that easy!" Isabelle burst out. "God. I just..." She laid her face in her hands. "I'm just so tired," she said bleakly. "Aren't you?"

"Well...yeah," Simon admitted. "Yeah, I guess I am. But it'll all be worth it, won't it? Just a little longer. It has to happen soon."

"But it did happen," Isabelle whispered. "It did. It was there, and then it wasn't. And I just feel..." She trailed off, not knowing how to finish her sentence.

There was a long silence. Simon sat down beside her. "We never really talked about it, did we?" he said quietly. "The miscarriage. After it was over, we just...carried on."

"Yeah." Isabelle exhaled. "I..." She struggled to find words to explain how she felt. "I hated it," she said finally. "I hated feeling like...like we had wanted something so badly, and we had been saving up all this hope and love, and then when we finally had it—I lost it. And it felt like it was my fault."

"No," said Simon firmly, taking her hand. "It wasn't your fault. And I don't blame you, okay? It just happened. We couldn't have controlled it. We just—"

"And that's another thing," Isabelle said, talking over him; now the words felt like they were spilling out of her. "I hate feeling so out of control. I hate that we try and try and still can't make this happen. What are we doing wrong? Why are we having so much trouble when Clary—" She cut herself off before she could reveal Clary's pregnancy; it wasn't her secret to tell. "When Clary and Jace conceived Lexie so easily," she finished quickly. "Why do we have to try so hard just for nothing to happen, month after month after month?"

Simon was quiet. "Are you saying you want to stop trying?" he asked, sounding like he dreaded the answer.

Isabelle sighed. "I don't know," she said. She tugged on the hem of her jeans. "Clary and I were talking a few weeks back. She said maybe we could use a break."

"A break," Simon repeated. "So...what, we'd just not try for a couple months?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Simon chewed his lip, clearly mulling it over. "I don't know if I want that," he said eventually. "To stop trying entirely, I mean. Even just for a little while."

"I don't think I want that either," Isabelle agreed. "I don't want to feel like we're giving up. But...maybe we can just take the pressure off? Have sex when we feel like it, not because we have to?"

Simon gave a chuckle. "God, I'd almost forgotten we used to have sex for fun." Isabelle cracked a smile. "Yeah," he said. "That sounds good." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Honestly, I've been wondering..." He trailed off, biting his lip.

"What?" said Isabelle.

He glanced away. "No. Nothing." He sighed. "I've been feeling worn out too," he admitted softly. "Since the miscarriage. I didn't want you to have to go through that again, but I also didn't want to stop, and all of it was so exhausting."

Isabelle gave an exasperated groan. "Okay, new rule," she said, poking him in the shoulder. "We have to tell each other what we're feeling. Because I thought I'd be letting you down if I seemed anything less than enthusiastic."

"And I thought I had to act totally optimistic every time," said Simon, grinning. "With this level of communication, we're going to be awful parents."

Isabelle burst out laughing, and Simon joined her. It felt good to joke with him again, to feel like they were finally on the same page. She rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you," she said. "And you're going to be such a good dad."

"Are you getting sappy on me, Isabelle Lightwood?" Simon teased, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger.

"Maybe," said Isabelle, "but if you tell anyone, I'll deny it. I have a reputation to uphold, after all."

"There she is," Simon said proudly. "That's the Isabelle I've been missing." He tilted her face toward his, and when they kissed, Isabelle felt lighter than she had in months.

Cleaning Lexie of cake proved to be a long and arduous task, but in the time it took everyone else to finish eating, Clary managed to wipe Lexie's hands and face clean. Casualties included a small mountain of baby wipes and slight soreness from being hit by Lexie's flailing arms; though she hated baths with a passion, wipes were not much preferred.

Clary lifted Lexie out of her chair and set her on the floor where she was unlikely to get her hands on anything else sticky. She crawled off immediately, joining her cousins in the corner where they were playing a card game; Max still had cake crumbs around his mouth and on his shirt. Lexie tried to put a card in her mouth, but Rafael quickly pulled it away from her. She didn't seem to mind much, which would be unusual if anyone else had told her "No," but she had always been very fond of her cousins.

As Clary was wiping down Lexie's tray table, Simon and Isabelle came back in. Clary looked at them immediately; they were both smiling, their hands intertwined. She caught Isabelle's eye and raised her eyebrows questioningly. Isabelle shook her head, but she didn't look upset. In fact, she looked more content than Clary had seen her look in a long while.

"Well," said Maryse, swiftly sweeping crumbs into a napkin and tidying the table, "all things considered, this could have gotten much messier." She gave a tinkling laugh. "Do you remember your baby shower? How Max knocked the cake over?"

Clary smiled faintly, but she thought of something different when she remembered the shower; she thought of the moment before she and Simon arrived, when she had almost hurt herself because she had thought she was in a nightmare.

"I've been meaning to ask," Maryse went on, "would you want a baby shower for your second?"

Clary's heart missed a beat. "What?"

"Well, I know it doesn't always make sense to have a shower after your first—I mean, you won't need more clothes and all of that—but I think it's still a nice way to celebrate, don't you?"

"Why are you—what—" Clary's mouth was dry. She swallowed.

"Oh," Maryse said, patting Clary's arm, "you don't need to answer right now. I know Lexie's still young, but I think in a year or two, it'll be a good time to give her a sibling. You don't want to wait too long between pregnancies—"

"Presents!" Clary blurted. "I think it's time to open presents." She sped across the room and picked Lexie up. "Let's open presents!" she called to the rest of the party, perhaps a little too exuberantly. Jace gave her an odd look, but she shot a meaningful glance toward Maryse, and his expression cleared.

"Sounds great!" he said, matching her energy.

They all pulled chairs from around the dining table; Clary and Jace sat against the wall, Lexie on Jace's lap, with the others in a semicircle around them.

"Aunt Clary, you said you'd open ours first!" said Max, thrusting a package into her hands; it was wrapped messily in brightly-colored paper. "Rafe and I wrapped it!"

"You did such a great job," said Clary, smiling. She showed Lexie the gift. "Lexie, can you say thank you to your cousins?"

"Tah!" said Lexie.

"It was nothing," Rafael said, though he was beaming proudly.

Clary began to peel off the tape, but before she could unwrap the gift, there were footsteps in the hallway. A moment later, Alec appeared in the doorway.

"You're just in time!" she called to him. "We..."

She trailed off; he looked very grave, his eyes shadowed. Clary's stomach gave an unpleasant turn. Something was wrong.

"Daddy!" Max said, waving at him. "Lexie's going to open our present!"

"That's great, sweetheart," said Alec, giving him a brief smile, but his gaze moved quickly back to Clary and Jace.

Besides Clary, only Jace seemed to notice that something was amiss. His gaze flicked between Alec and Clary once, and then he smiled and said, "Boys, why don't you help Lexie open your present?"

Clary stood up so Max and Rafe could clamber onto her chair. As they and Lexie began to tear at the wrapping, Clary went over to Alec.

"What's going on?" she said.

"I need to talk to you and Jace," he said quietly.

Clary hesitated. "Can it wait?" she said, though she knew by his expression that it couldn't, which only made her want to avoid it more.

"I'm sorry," said Alec, "but it's urgent." He looked over her shoulder at Jace.

"Thank you so much!" said Jace; Lexie was holding a new teddy bear that was almost as big as she was. "She's going to love it." He looked up, meeting his parabatai's gaze. "How about Grammy and Gramps help Lexie open theirs next?"

He handed Lexie off to Luke and joined Clary and Alec at the door. "We can talk in the library," he said, reading both their expressions.

They set off, Alec leading the way; his shoulders were squared, his gaze directed straight ahead. Clary exchanged a look with Jace; he looked as apprehensive as she felt.

Alec pushed open the doors to the library; sunlight poured from the room out into the hallway. "You should sit down," he told Clary and Jace, holding the door open for them. They entered; Alec closed the door behind them, and Clary and Jace sat down on the couch. Clary's fingers were thrumming with nervous energy. Jace took her hand.

Still avoiding looking at them, Alec started to pace. "I've had a visit from a faerie," he began.

He explained about Adrastos and what they had deduced together, about the Scourge of Raziel and the murders. Clary's fingers went increasingly numb as she squeezed Jace's hand harder.

"Okay," said Jace once Alec had finished. "This is good. At least we have some answers, and enough information to start an investigation. We can look into this Caladrius—"

"There's more," Clary whispered, looking at Alec. "There is, isn't there?"

Alec finally met her gaze. "Yes," he said. "Dras heard the Scourge talking about part of the ritual. They need a child, and—and they're planning to take Lexie."

And the child? Who is it?

Can't you guess?

Clary had been expecting it, had known it had to be Lexie, but nothing could have prepared her for hearing it out loud. She drew in a tiny, trembling breath, feeling a shudder run through her body.

"No," said Jace, standing up. Clary's hand slid out of his and fell into her lap. "No. He heard wrong."

"He didn't," Alec said softly. "He told me what they said. 'We still need to find a way to capture Alexandra Herondale. There is no point in collecting the hearts otherwise.'"

"Then he was lying," Jace snarled. "How do you know he's not one of them? How do you know he's not just trying to throw us off?"

"Faeries can't lie," Alec reminded him. "And if he was part of the Scourge, why would he come to me? Why would he give me all this information to stop them?"

"He didn't tell you everything."

"He told me everything he knew." Alec sighed. "I know you don't want to believe him, but he was telling the truth. They're coming after Lexie. So we need a plan. We need to figure out how to stop them."

Jace turned away, twisting his hands into his hair. Clary heard him suck in a ragged breath. She knew she should go to him, that they should hold each other through this, but she felt like a statue on the couch, sitting and watching from a distance.

"Are you okay, Clary?" said Alec gently. Then he shook his head. "No, of course you're not. But we're going to fight this, okay? We won't let them get her."

"Tell him."

Clary glanced up; Jace was looking at her with such intensity that she shrank back. "Tell him what we know," he said, "or I will."

Clary tried to open her mouth, but her jaw wouldn't move. Jace turned to Alec. "It's Leviathan," he said. "He's behind all of this. That's why they're coming for Lexie, because he told them to."

"Leviathan?" Alec frowned. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"The rune," Clary blurted before Jace could answer; she had found her voice just in time. "I put a rune on him when I banished him. I saw it on the victims."

"I didn't see any rune," Alec said.

"It was small," said Clary. "And simple. You wouldn't notice it if you didn't know what you were looking for."

Alec nodded slowly. "It would make sense if it was him. Magnus said he thought there was someone higher up helping the warlock. It doesn't make much of a difference, though. I think the Scourge has their own motives outside of Leviathan's." His eyes flickered between them, settling on Clary. "I won't say anything," he said, sounding uncertain. "Not unless it becomes relevant."

Clary nodded, exhaling, but she could feel Jace's eyes boring into her. After a moment, he began to retrace Alec's steps back and forth past the couch. "So what's the plan?" he asked.

"Dras drew me a map," said Alec. "He pointed out all the places where he's seen the Scourge meet. I think our first step should be to stake them out and gather more information on the Scourge. Our best bet is to find Caladrius; if we can get to him, I think the whole thing will fall apart."

Jace nodded tersely; a pulse was jumping in his jaw. Alec sat down beside Clary. "I know you're scared," he said softly. "If it was one of my kids...God, I'd be terrified." He laid a hand over hers. She barely felt it.

The door opened and Jocelyn came in holding Lexie. "I think she needs a diaper change," she said. "Do you have spare ones down..." She trailed off, looking around at them. "What's wrong?"

Lexie cooed, gazing around the room. When she spotted Clary, she smiled, her cheeks dimpling.

Clary had no memory of moving, but suddenly she was holding Lexie, holding her so tightly that Lexie squirmed and fussed in her arms. She held her baby and tried to memorize her warmth and the way she fit so perfectly against Clary, because she was going to lose her, Leviathan was going to take her away, going to kill her—

"Clary," said Jace's voice in her ear, "Clary, let her go, you're hurting her—"

Lexie was crying, fighting her, and then Clary was only holding air as someone pulled Lexie from her grasp. "No!" she was aware of screaming, "give her back, give her back..."

"Take her, get her out of here—"

"But what's going—"

"Just take her!"

The door slammed shut. Clary sank to her knees, and everything she had been stuffing down, down, down all day—for weeks—exploded out of her in a visceral howl. She crumpled in on herself, wailing, tearing at her skin and hair. She had never felt such fear in her life, fear so horrible and intense that she was sure she could not survive it.

"Clary, shh..." Jace's arms came around her, and her head bumped against his chest. He held her as she rocked back and forth. "Shh...it's going to be okay. It's going to be okay..."

"I can't lose her," Clary sobbed, "I can't lose her—"

"We're not going to lose her. We're not, I promise."

"He's going to take her..."

"He's not. We won't let him. Shh..." He stroked her back. "It's going to be okay." His voice broke, and she felt tears fall into her hair. "Clary, please," he whispered. "We have to try to fight this. I can't..."

She looked up at him. Through her own tears, she could see that he was crying freely too. She reached up and touched his cheek.

"I can't do this alone," he said softly. "I need you."

Clary heard the floor creak nearby; Alec had crouched down beside her. "We have a plan," he said. "But if we're going to save her, we have to stay strong. We have to focus on what we can do."

Clary nodded automatically and swiped her sleeve across her face. She drew in a breath and tried to press her emotions down the way she always did—but for the first time in weeks, she felt utterly empty, as if she had nothing left to feel at all.