Mortal Instruments 1. I Go and catch a falling star

Go and catch a falling star

Isabelle was pissing Jace off to no end. It didn't really matter that he hadn't had a better idea, or that they'd both caved and not dragged Alec to Pandemonium again. It had been her idea to wander around SoHo, and now she was window shopping. Which left Jace and Alec to make sure that they weren't about to be attacked. It had, thus far, been a boring night.

Alec leaned against a streetlight, clearly watching Jace out of the corner of one eye. Jace turned a pointed glance down the street to see if anything was there. The street was empty, apart from the three of them. It was almost disappointing. This ranked well up there as one of Isabelle's worst ideas ever. It almost topped the fairy plum dare. Almost.

"You could just say something," muttered Alec. "Izzy will probably agree that doing our job is more exciting than scoping out sales."

"So why don't you?" asked Jace, knowing the answer.

"When has Izzy ever listened to me?" asked Alec rhetorically. "Besides, it's a nice night. I don't mind doing nothing, but watching you get antsy is grating on my nerves. So you talk to Izzy, and I'll figure out where the nearest subway entrance is so we can go somewhere else."

Jace grinned. "I like that. See, this is why we're friends." He wandered over to Izzy while Alec slipped off into the night to find the subway and decide where to go. Isabelle was staring critically into the glass, more looking at herself and her brothers than the window display.

"Where did you send Alec to?" asked Isabelle, still studying Jace's reflection in the glass.

"He went to look for the subway," said Jace. "We're bored. You can shop later, when we're not out hunting."

"I know that," said Isabelle irritably, giving actual Jace a glare. "Hasn't it seemed odd to you, lately? We go out hunting, and there are no demons. Anywhere. And if we do find one, it's so weak that it only takes one of us to kill it."

"I hadn't really noticed," said Jace sarcastically. "It is weird, but there's no reason why there shouldn't be a lack of demonic activity. Alec likes the break."

"Yes, but that's just - " Isabelle began. A shout came from a few blocks away. Jace and Isabelle exchanges looks "Alec," they said at the same time. They sprinted towards the sound of the shout, Isabelle quietly praying that her brother was okay.

They arrived in time to see Alec go flying into the side of a dumpster and crumple to the ground. The demon, with its scythe-like forelegs, lashing barbed tail and tentaclesque whiskers, advanced on Alec, drooling acid and unhinging its reptilian jaw only to halt itself as an electrum whip cracked across its massive back. The demon turned away from Alec in an attempt to find Isabelle, only to be hit squarely in the eye with a kidjal.

"Good shot," called Isabelle, slashing at the demons forelegs in an attempt to trip it up.

"Tell me that when it's dead," said Jace, leaping up onto the demon's back while Isabelle distracted it. He attempted to stab between the demon's head spikes, but the demon tossed its head in response to something Isabelle had done, flinging Jace into a lamp post.

A silvery disk flashed through the night and sliced through two of the demon's tentacles. The chakram was followed by two dark blurs that latched themselves onto the demon. One blur resolved as a young man; based on his long fangs, Jace could only assume he was a vampire. His companion, to Jace's surprise, was a werewolf, who was doing its best to hamstring the creature. Isabelle, though slightly startled, flicked her whip so it coiled tightly around the demon's tail. With a jerk, she ripped the tail off. While the creature was distracted by that pain, the vampire dug his hands into the flesh where he had bitten it, ripped the skin open wider and poured a vial of clear fluid into the wound before jumping lightly off to land on the side of a building. Jace dashed forward through the thrashing demon's tentacles and slashed the demon's throat open, spinning away to prevent himself from being drenched with demonic ichor. The demon shuddered, collapsed, and disintegrated into wisps of smoke.

"Good shot," said the vampire. "Nice hamstring manoeuvre, Maia."

The werewolf trotted towards them, morphing back into a human as it went. The young woman sighed. "Shame it didn't work."

"Don't beat yourself up," said the vampire, "besides, the thing's dead. No one died. And there's still hours 'til dawn."

"I can't stay out much longer," said the werewolf. "Gotta make curfew, or Master gets mad. He's good, though, keeping an eye on all of us."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" demanded Isabelle.

"Oh sorry," said the vampire, "I should have asked if you were injured. Are you?"

"We didn't need your help, bloodsucker," snapped Jace. "We were handling it just fine."

"Oh yeah, real fine," drawled the werewolf. "If getting yourselves half killed counts as fine. Besides, we're allowed to hunt too, as per the Accords."

"Listen, bitch," snarled Jace, "we don't need your help. Go back to your kennel."

"Why don't you tell that to your friend?" asked a third voice from the alley. All four turned to spot a petite redhead with Alec slung over her shoulder walking towards them. "Between his concussion and the poison in his bloodstream, yeah, you needed our help."

"What did you do to him?" demanded Isabelle, rushing forward to collect her brother.

"I gave him a potion," said the girl carelessly, "that would neutralize the poison. Let him rest for a few days and he'll be fine."

"You're pretty handy, Downworlder," said Isabelle. "Thanks."

The redhead's smile didn't reach her green eyes. "My pleasure. I've always wondered what Nephilim were like. So thank _you_ for fulfilling my curiosity. Make sure your friend follows the directions on the bottle exactly."

"He's my brother," said Isabelle. "We'll take care of him, don't worry."

"I wasn't going to," said the girl, turning away from Isabelle and Alec. "Come on, let's go eat. I'm hungry."

The three of them headed up the street, the werewolf flipping them off as they left. The three turned down an alleyway; a few moments later, a burst of blue light lit up the street. Jace and Isabelle lifted Alec to his feet, steadying him as he returned to consciousness. His blue eyes were a little bit hazy, but he seemed lucid enough to get home.

"I guess I'll have to come back later to shop," sighed Isabelle. She pulled her wallet out of her purse to check for cab fare and cursed.

"What's wrong?" asked Jace.

"That damn warlock stole all my cash," said Isabelle angrily. "Alec? What have you got on you?"

Alec checked his own wallet. "She cleaned me out too."

"I guess we're walking home then," said Jace. Isabelle punched him and flounced off, leaving Jace to support Alec by himself.


	2. I Get with child a mandrake root

Get with child a mandrake root

"Welcome back, Clarissa," said Magnus, not breaking the glaring contest between him and Chairman Meow. "What bits of havoc have you wreaked on New York this time?"

"You have so much faith in me," said Clary, dropping her bag by the door. "Simon, Maia and I decided to do some parkour in SoHo, and we ran into a bunch of Shadowhunters who had decided to bite off more than they could chew."

"And you thoughtfully saved their lives, didn't you," said Magnus, finally turning to look at his charge. "It's good to see that the skills you've been learning from Luke aren't going to waste."

"I even borrowed some money from them," said Clary, holding up a plastic bag. "I picked up takeout from Taki's on my way home."

"Bribery will get you everywhere," said Magnus, giving up his argument with the Chairman and following Clary to what passed for their kitchen. "And you got the good stuff too. Tell me more about these Shadowhunters you ran into."

"Two of them were clearly siblings," said Clary, "a brother and sister with these awesome blue eyes. And the third one – another boy – was all golden. Gold hair, gold eyes, gold skin. I feel like I know him, but I've never seen him before."

"It's probably déjà vu," said Magnus. "Disorienting, but not life threatening."

"They were pretty rude to us," said Clary, checking over her bacon and tomato sandwich. "They kept calling us 'Downworlder' and used some pretty nasty terms for vampires and werewolves." Clary smirked. "They couldn't seem to figure out what I was, so they decided I was a Fae. And even there, they were pretty derogatory."

"It's an unfortunate, if common, stance among Nephilim," said Magnus. "We Downworlders have learned to expect it from them over the centuries."

"I'm a Nephilim," argued Clary, "and I don't think like that."

"You're a Nephilim by birth, and a Downworlder by adoption," said Magnus, retrieving a box of generously cheesy poutine. "This proves that prejudice is a learned behaviour, and not genetic. And I, for one, am profoundly grateful for that."

"Because Valentine's a bigger jackass than most Nephilim?" asked Clary. "I'm glad that I never met him. I mean, it'd be nice to have my own take on my biological father. But I'm glad he didn't get the chance to make me nasty."

"That is a factor," admitted Magnus. "But imagine all of the people in your life that you would never have met, let alone gotten to be friends with, if you carried prejudice in your DNA. You are privileged to have so many who love you, and you love them in return. Of the Angel's Children, you're the first to live among and understand all types of Downworlders."

"I know," said Clary fondly. "To love unconditionally is divine, to err in devotion is only too human. Thankfully, you're nice. I should warn you though, Chrysaor and Co. will probably come by later this week."

"And why might they do that?" asked Magnus

"It's not like I borrowed the money for nothing," said Clary. "I partially healed one of them. The blue eyed boy. They'll be around if they follow the instructions I left on him. And they're probably pissed enough to come for a confrontation."

"Claradele, why would you do that?" asked Magnus exasperatedly. "The Accords are coming up. We don't need more tension than there already is."

"Because I'm keeping our bet in mind," said Clary, pointing to the piece of paper pinned to the ceiling over their heads. "And because there's something about those particular three. Something special. It's important."

"I see," mused Magnus. "Or rather, I don't, but I assume that I will once they show up. Don't forget, you're working the morning shift at the gallery."

"How could I forget?" asked Clary. "I only begged for the job for two weeks straight until you gave in and let me have it."

"Thank your mother for suggesting that I buy that dilapidated old thing," said Magnus. "Though I must admit, it does make for a steady source of income. Useful for when we actually have to buy things."

"Have you heard from Mom lately?" asked Clary. "Has anyone?"

"Radio silence, I'm afraid," said Magnus. "In this case, no news is probably good news. She likely isn't hurt or captured, or we would know. Think positive, Claradele. You'll likely see Jocelyn soon."

Clary worried her lower lip. "I hope she's okay."

"Luke would have told us if he thought she was going to do something reckless," Magnus pointed out. "Of everyone, he knows her best. Last anyone heard, Jocelyn was in Munich. It's very likely that whatever her plan is, it involves staying far away from Shadowhunters."

"You think she's headed to Idris. Don't you."

"Yes. Unfortunately. Bedtime. I'm exhausted."


	3. I Tell me where the past years are

Tell me where the past years are

Jocelyn pulled her coat tighter around herself. Sleeping in trees was uncomfortable, but significantly safer than the alternative. No one would look up to see if there was someone even in the tree – well, most wouldn't – and it seemed like she had thrown off her pursuers. Still, being back in Idris did have its risks. It felt good to be home.

She cracked open the locket that hung on a long chain around her neck. Her daughter's face stared back at her, red hair so like her own braided over one shoulder and green eyes also like her own holding a touch of humour and wisdom, as well as the suggestion of cleverness. That, and Clary's jaw and cheekbones, were not hers. The man who had granted them to her daughter had never met Clary, and if Jocelyn had her way, never would.

If Valentine found her little angel, everything Jocelyn had worked for would be for nothing. If the demon-boy Valentine had called their son found her…

The thought didn't bear completing. Jocelyn pushed it aside, as she had many times before, and contemplated the Glass City. It stood before her, its walls girdling it and keeping city growth in check while the glass towers soared into the sky much like the lacy filigree of a crown. Alicante seemed to stare down at her, much as it had years ago, when she had first come to the city for school. Then, it had seemingly approved of her and her talents. Now, it seemed to find her wanting.

Jocelyn closed the locket and glared back at the crownlike city. She had seen the world and lived its wonders, and no city could contemplate the beauty of the world's sorrows any more than the wretchedness of the joys. Cities were made to bear and endure eternity. Jocelyn knew that she was made to endure her own lifetime, and no more, and to bear her burdens with whatever gifts she was given and whatever skills she happened to pick up along the way.

She jumped out of the tree and landed in near silence, with only a few dead leaves giving her away. The ruins of her childhood home stood in front of her. Cautiously, Jocelyn made her way around the front of the house – she refused to go in that way, even if the bones had been removed, as her mind would supply the image. The back of the house, where the kitchen had been, was more intact as it had been warded against fire. Jocelyn ducked through and made her way to the opening that led to the cellars.

Hopefully, nothing down here had burned too badly, if at all.

The stone stairs were exactly where they should have been. Jocelyn crept down the stairs, pulling her witch light out of her coat's inner pocket so she could see. The cellar was full of ashes, much like the rest of the house had been. In the spaces where Valentine had kept various prisoners were fragments of bone and in one case, the outline of a body.

"God and all His angels forgive me," said Jocelyn softly, looking at the remains. "I shouldn't have waited so long to act. Let their souls rest in peace; they suffered enough on Earth." She placed a handkerchief over an intact skull and resumed her search.

Beyond the dead, there was very little else left behind. The desk had burned, as had the bookshelf that had stood behind it. Jocelyn cursed softly. She pressed her hands against the walls, looking for hidden compartments. She found nothing.

Beyond the office space and cells was a small flat area. The last time Jocelyn had been here, she hadn't even looked in the space. Now the covered humanoid shape was gone. Where it had been was the remains of an array. Jocelyn frowned. It didn't seem to be a summoning array. Upon closer inspection, she found Marks for containment and holding.

"Another prisoner," Jocelyn murmured. Who had been in her husband's life of their own volition? And how many of them knew what he was under the pleasant smile? She certainly hadn't known him, and she had married Valentine.

After another hour of careful searching, Jocelyn gave up. It was obvious that Valentine had either destroyed his records or had moved them before setting fire to the house. Knowing what she did of Valentine, Jocelyn guessed that it was the latter. But where would he have moved to?

She thought over the day of the Rising. The bones she had found in the ashes of her childhood home had to be people she knew. Of course, two of the skeletons had been her parents. Seeing their remains like that had broken her heart. But the other two, the man and the child… So many members of the Circle would have come when Valentine called, but which had he summoned to him? Not the Lightwoods; Luke had told her that they ran the New York Institute, and that Alec was very much alive. Celine and Stephen were dead by then; Hodge had no children, and was reportedly also in New York.

The Waylands. Michael and his son. They'd been the last of their line. Only the Lightwoods would have noticed they were missing. Michael would have been assumed killed in the Rising. Only he hadn't been.

Jocelyn felt bile rise in her throat. Had she eaten anything that day, it would have come up. Instead, she knelt on the floor, her stomach heaving. Her husband had murdered a child and a man who had called him friend, and had likely stolen their house. A house where she had hidden a very important book over sixteen years before.

Pushing herself up, she headed to the stairs. Halfway up, she hid her witch light; she knew this area well enough. She could walk to the Wayland manor in the dark and find a place to hide when the sun came up. She could wait until nightfall to break into Valentine's new workshop.

The best laid plans of mice and men often go wrong.

A group of Shadowhunters in full gear were waiting for her at the top of the stairs, witch lights and weapons out. Silently, Jocelyn cursed herself for being careless. She didn't dare draw a weapon; this was not the time to die. One of the other Shadowhunters stepped forward and pushed back the hood that covered her face.

"Good morning, Inquisitor Herondale," said Jocelyn, resigned.

"I'm not in the mood for your humour, Jocelyn Morgenstern," snapped Imogen Herondale. "You will come with us, quietly."

"Of course," said Jocelyn. "I want to be tried by the Sword, if you please."

"I was hoping you'd say that," said the Inquisitor with a tight-lipped smirk. "I will grant your request. You'll wish you hadn't asked when we're done."

Jocelyn shrugged and submitted to a search that relieved her of all her weaponry. Most of what she knew, they knew. Her precious things were safely hidden and well protected. Jocelyn had nothing to lose, really.


	4. I Or who cleft the devil's foot

"Good news," said Jace as he entered the kitchen. "Maryse and Robert bought the story and won't be rushing home to check on us."

"That's one major bullet dodged," said Isabelle as she looked over various takeout menus. "Mom would freak if she found out that Alec almost died."

"She'll freak out anyway," Alec pointed out. "Mom runs the Institute. Someone will tell her about what really happened, and then we'll all be in even bigger trouble."

"And then we'll blame the whole thing on Jace," said Isabelle. "Does Greek food for dinner sound good to everyone?"

"Izzy, it's too early to be thinking about dinner," said Jace. "So, Alec, does the very blank label say anything new? Like, actual visible words?"

"It does, actually," said Alec. "Two addresses, both in Brooklyn. We should go check them out."

"Why?" asked Isabelle. "Because the bottle says to?"

"We have nothing better to do," said Alec. "Besides, I'm pretty sure that I'm supposed to see someone at one of these addresses for a follow up to that potion."

"So we'll go," said Jace. "Cab or subway?"

"Subway," said Alec. "It'll be more normal."

"We're going to be gawked at," said Isabelle idly. "It always happens."

"I'm sure that the extra attention won't kill you, Izzy," said Jace. "So, let's see where this warlock lives."

The first address took them to a third floor apartment. Alec rang the bell, while Isabelle examined her nails and Jace watched the neighbourhood. After nearly twenty minutes of standing on the landing and ringing the bell six more times, Alec gave up and they headed back down to the street.

"So, where's this other place?" asked Jace.

"It's called Mandrigoria," said Alec with a slight frown.

"That's an art gallery," said Isabelle. "I've heard of it. Apparently it shows a real variety of paintings."

"So what's a little girl warlock doing in an art gallery?" asked Jace.

"We'll have to ask when we get there," said Alec. "It's only a few blocks over."

On the outside, Mandrigoria looked like most of the street it sat on. Inside, it was high-ceilinged and had a maze of moveable walls that were covered in paintings. There were a few people visible, among them a teenager covered in glitter who was seated behind the help desk. When Alec hesitated, Jace and Isabelle very nearly dragged him over to where the glittery teen was sitting.

The guy had cat eyes.

"I see what she meant," mused the glitter-covered warlock. "Chrysaor and Co., I presume? Come on, we'll talk upstairs." He stood and stretched much like a cat and walked over to a spiral staircase hidden in a corner. The three Shadowhunters followed him up the stairs and into a riot of colour.

"So," said the warlock as he folded himself into an emerald green armchair, "what can I do for you?"

"Chrysaor and Co.?" said Isabelle. "Who came up with that?"

"Does it matter?" replied the warlock. "I really can't think of a more appropriate nickname for the three of you. Chrysaor, son of Poseidon and Medusa, twin of Pegasus and dubbed "the Golden Sword" for his weapons expertise and his use of a golden sword. Learn your Greek myths, children."

"We'll get right on that," snarked Jace.

"Who are you?" Alec blurted. the warlock cocked an eyebrow.

"Magnus Bane," said the warlock, "High Warlock of Brooklyn and owner of this art gallery. Who's asking?"

"Alec Lightwood," said Alec. "This is my sister Isabelle. He's Jace Wayland."

"You look nothing like Michael Wayland," said Magnus to Jace, "nor do you look like any Wayland I've ever seen. But yes, I can see that you'd be Maryse's children. I was the one who held her for trial after the Uprising."

"Seriously," said Isabelle, "Mom's never mentioned you."

"I doubt that she wants to discuss that period of her life at all," said Magnus, amused. "Now really, why are you here?"

"The other night, someone gave me this," said Alec, handing Magnus the empty bottle. "I don't remember much, but I do remember being told to follow the directions on the label. I was told that I'd need a follow up."

"You do," said Magnus, looking the bottle over. "Tsk. This was one of my better concoctions, and she only charged you two hundred? But yes, side effects might set in. I can't give you more of this - unfortunately, it's addictive as morphine - but I can give you a tonic that will finish clearing you up."

"How much?" asked Alec.

"Seventy-five," said Magnus. "I'll bill it to the Institute. It's easier to make and significantly easier on your system. But let's look you over to see how you're doing first." Magnus placed a hand that glowed blue on Alec's chest. The blue glow spread all over Alec, as it retreated, Magnus frowned. A piece of paper fell from the ceiling of the office onto a glass end table.

"I'm not sure that page was supposed to fall," said Jace.

"Shut up," said Isabelle. "Everything falls down. That's the law of gravity, Jace."

"You have a strained ligament in addition to the remnants of being poisoned," Magnus informed him as he glided over to the end table. He picked up the paper and looked it over. "Mm. Should have known. Ah well. Anyway, I can fix it for you, if you'd like. Free of charge."

"Free of charge," repeated Jace.

"Since you're such good customers," said Magnus, "and it's an easy little thing. Plus, I'm in a reasonably good mood."

"Thanks," said Alec, cutting across his best friend and sister. "Can we look around the gallery afterwards?"

"Why not?" shrugged Magnus. "But if you wreck it, you buy it. And if you harass my customers or my staff, I'm kicking you out." A blue spark jumped from Magnus to Alec. "All better. It was a pleasure meeting you, Alexander."

The three Nephilim stared. Finally Jace said, "He never said his name was Alexander."

"I suppose he didn't," agreed Magnus. "Perhaps you should simply accept that I know things. The gallery is downstairs, as is the exit. Feel free to show yourselves out."

They traipsed back down to the gallery, Magnus ushering them along with the paper clutched in his hand. Once back on the ground level, they found a red haired girl seated behind the desk. Jace and Isabelle stopped dead when they spotted her.

"Magnus, good news," said the girl cheerfully. "Someone bought the monster!"

"Did they really?" said Magnus. "Why? It's hideous. And massive."

She shrugged. "The buyer said he wanted something big and loud. It was love at first sight. I've even got the deposit and moving all worked out."

"Claradele, you are brilliant sometimes," said Magnus. "What would I do without you?"

"Throw crazy parties and not own an art gallery," said Claradele promptly. "Is there a reason your guests are staring at me?"

"They're more your guests than mine," said Magnus. "The dark ones are Isabelle and Alec. Chrysaor's name is actually Jace." The girl paled.

"Claradele, right?" said Jace. "Thanks for saving Alec."

"It's Clary," she informed him. "Magnus just likes being annoying. No problem."

"Is Magnus your teacher, then?" asked Isabelle.

"Not really," shrugged Clary. "I mean, I can speak Indonesian and I know other crazy stuff. But there's no real point in him teaching me magic, since I'm not a warlock." As Jace opened his mouth to ask, she clarified, "I'm only a Downworlder by adoption."

"There aren't any mundanes that can see the Shadow world," protested Isabelle. Her elegant eyebrows slid into a frown and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"She's Nephilim," said Magnus, bored. "Both of her parents are Nephilim. Her family on both sides goes back to the founding of your species."

"Problem, officers?" said Clary. "Cope. Feel free to check out the artwork." Magnus took that as permission to drag Alec around the gallery, dropping the paper on the desk as he passed it. Isabelle snorted and followed her clearly nervous brother. Jace watched his foster siblings as he leaned against the desk.

"So, what happened to your parents?" asked Jace.

"One went psychotic," said Clary flatly. "The other gave me up to protect me. What happened to yours?"

"They died," said Jace shortly. "The Lightwoods are my family now. So your parent's cool with you hanging out with Downworlders, then?"

"Of course," said Clary. "But if you're so concerned, come hang out with us. Friday, ten o'clock at Pandemonium."

"Sounds good," said Jace. "See you there. Anything worth looking at here?"

"Lots," said Clary, "depending on what you like. If you're in the mood for thinking, abstracts are by the door. Sculpture is in that far corner. There's impressionist and postmodern stuff in the middle. And if you're homesick, look for box thirty-seven."

Jace nodded and lifted a hand in farewell. He drifted through impressionist paintings and unusual sculptures until he reached a cube with the number 37 tagged on it. The paintings inside were realistic, beautiful images caught in oil paints. He recognized the landscapes in many of them. The painting of Lake Lys from a vantage point caught his eye. For a long while, he stared at home.

"Jace, what are you - oh my God," said Isabelle, stepping into the cube. "It's Idris."

"Yeah," said Jace, "It is."

"Who's the painter?" asked Alec, joining them.

"Jocelyn Frey," said Jace, gesturing to the signature. "I have no idea who that is. But she's talented."

"We should head back," said Isabelle. "I think we need to get more training time in, and we still have to figure out dinner."

"I vote for Greek food," said Jace. "I'm craving stuffed fig leaves."

"Mmhmm," said Isabelle, reapplying her lip gloss. "Sure you are."


	5. I Teach me to hear mermaids singing

Teach me to hear mermaids singing

Magnus handed Clary the paper that had fallen from his office ceiling. Clary took it and looked it over. A wide grin spread across her face. "I knew it," she said triumphantly. "I knew that you'd find the love of your life."

"Yes, yes, you told me so," said Magnus, waving off her comment. "What I want to know is if I'm the love of his life. Because I might not be, and that would be tragic."

"I can offer to do one of these readings," said Clary. "I mean, the name only shows up once you've met the person. So we'll see."

"I suppose so," said Magnus. "What's this about Friday at Pandemonium?"

"A meet up with friends," shrugged Clary. "Will you mind terribly if we raid your closet before we go?"

"Not at all," said Magnus. "It's a bit soon to call those three your friends, Claradele. I can see you're interested. I've only lived with you for over a decade now."

"It's public," said Clary, "and Simon and Maia will be there. It's not a date. Just seeing how things roll. Getting to know my own kind."

"Nephilim are notoriously arrogant," said Magnus. "Of course, you live with me, so you should be fine. May I join you once my business for the day is done?"

"Sure," said Clary. "Let me know if my mom comes up. Please?"

"I wouldn't keep that from you," said Magnus. "I'll tell you the bits you need to know. Keep an eye on Alec, won't you?"

"What are pseudo siblings for, if not to watch your back?" said Clary. Magnus laughed and pushed her in the direction of a middle aged woman who was looking intently at some abstract sculptures.

Simon and Maia arrived after sunset on Friday. The girls had taken one look at Simon's planned outfit and promptly raided Magnus' closet. They debated different pieces from Magnus' extensive wardrobe while Simon watched with a small measure of terror.

"I don't see what the big deal is," complained Simon. "Can't I just wear this?"

"It's a complete waste for you to be immortal and gorgeous," said Clary, "and still go to clubs in pill-covered sweaters and jeans that have never fit you right."

"You don't try to dress Maia," said Simon.

"Maia has her own style," said Clary patiently. "And she isn't immortal. Now put on the clothes that we've picked for you." In the end, the girls hadn't deviated too much from Simon's original style. A moss green button down with jeans that actually did fit him and his running shoes suited him. Maia's sky blue tee and jeans passed inspection, as did Clary's navy blue halter dress. Her Marks were on display, but their presence would get them into Pandemonium without having to pay cover and double as a warning for any demons in the club.

"We should bounce," said Maia. "I need food before we go."

"Right," said Clary. "Taki's then Pandemonium. I'm guessing that you need to eat too, Simon."

"Good guess," said Simon. "I need breakfast."

"Or whatever passes for it," said Clary. "I should probably have mentioned, we're meeting some people at the club. Remember those Nephilim we saved?"

"Yeah," said Maia. "So why are we meeting them?"

"Two reasons," said Clary. "Magnus has an eye on one of them. And they were pretty taken with my mom's paintings of Idris. The blond guy, Jace, seemed to know some of the landscapes pretty well."

"You think that he might know your brother?" asked Simon. "Like, the murderous raving lunatic who's trying to kill your mom?"

"It's possible," said Clary. "I mean, I've never met the guy. I have no idea what he's like. But if I'm right, Jace might know a Jonathan Christopher. Which is my brother's name."

"What happens if he is friends with a psychopath?" asked Simon.

"Then I'm probably screwed," said Clary. "If my brother knows, Valentine knows. If Valentine knows, then New York isn't safe for anyone."

"Chill, Clary," said Maia. "We'll take care of you. Would you draw the Portal now?" Clary sighed and sketched a glowing blue circle onto the wall. Carefully, she made sure that there was a time delay on it so that it would close and the Marks would erase themselves. As soon as it was done, Maia walked through it. Simon followed her. With a last glance around the room to make sure she had everything, Clary stepped through the portal in Magnus' bedroom and onto the street outside of Taki's.

"Hey Kaelie!" called Simon as they made their way over to their favourite table. "How's it going?"

"Pretty well, thanks," said Kaelie, sweeping over with a menu. "What can I getcha?"

"Uh, a cow-pig blend, please," said Simon. "A full pint. I'm hungry."

"American burger with extra cheese and a milkshake," said Maia. "And fries. Lots of fries."

"Okay," said Kaelie, jotting down their orders. "What about you, hon?" "Chicken parmesan and orange juice," said Clary. "With a side of info about one Jace Wayland."

Kaelie pursed her lips. "Lemme put your order in." They waited as Kaelie attached the sheet with their order on it to the lineup. She sat down next to Simon and cocked her head to one side.

"What do you want to know about Jace?" she asked.

"You know him personally?" asked Simon.

"We used to date," said Kaelie dreamily. "He's pretty, you know? Irresistible as a pile of gold or apple pie. Mmm."

"Is there any reason he's such a jerk?" asked Maia.

"Oh yeah," said Kaelie. "He saw his father die. He's a talented Shadowhunter. As I said, he's pretty. He's been pretty spoiled, I guess. Loves anything with tomatoes in it."

"Does he ever talk about Idris, that you know of?" asked Clary.

"Not much," said Kaelie. "I asked him about it once, and he said it was the most beautiful place on Earth. But as far as I know, he doesn't talk about his dad or anything."

"He never gets letters from there, or anything?" asked Clary.

"Nope," said Kaelie. "Apparently, the only person he knew in Idris was his father. Dead people don't send post, even in the shadow world."

"I see," said Clary, turning a thought over in her mind. "Thanks Kaelie."

"Hey, no problem," shrugged Kaelie. "Why so interested, Starlet?"

"Just curious," said Clary. "I haven't seen him around before."

"He's pretty curious about you too," said Kaelie. "He came by this morning and asked about you. Pretty intensely, too."

"Good to know," said Simon. Kaelie offered him a sweet smile before going up to the counter to retrieve their orders. "What's eating you, Clary?"

"The only person he knew was his father," said Clary, accepting her chicken from Kaelie with an appreciative smile. "Why does that seem so suspicious? I think something's not quite right."

"I'll be happy to distract that girl," offered Simon, sipping his pint of blood, "if you wanted to do a little digging in Golden Boy's story."

"I'll take her brother," said Maia. "They're both gorgeous."

"If Magnus doesn't get to him first," said Clary. "He said he might join us."

"Magnus thinks Pandemonium is tacky," scoffed Maia.

"Not even tacky decor is going to keep Magnus away from Alec," said Clary. "Or really anything he might want in life." Maia snorted and applied herself to her burger and fries.

"We should go," said Simon as the girls polished off the last of their food. "We're going to be late."

"Not likely," said Clary as she left enough money to cover their meal and a healthy tip just under the edge of her plate. "Come on, we'll Portal over. If we're really lucky, we'll be able to clean up a bit before our guests come." It took Clary less than a minute to set up the temporary Portal in the alleyway behind Taki's. They came out a few blocks down from the club and walked in, getting a nod of acknowledgement from the Ifrit at the door. Clary's Marks shimmered over her skin, as did Maia's bite scar. The girls settled themselves in an alcove, noting Simon's absence. He was a bit dishevelled when he rejoined them.

"Sorry about that," said Simon with a fang-baring grin. "A few demons thought they'd sneak into the club tonight. I thought that we'd rather not have uninvited guests to tonight's party."

"You're so thoughtful, Simon," said Clary, kissing his cheek. Maia rolled her eyes.


	6. I Or to keep off envy's stinging

Or to keep off envy's stinging

Pandemonium lived up to its name, in Jace's opinion. It was always a throbbing, deafening mass that allowed mundies to dance in blissful ignorance while the shadow world more or less openly were themselves and no one looked twice. Isabelle loved it as much as he did, if for different reasons: he loved the possibility of violence, where she loved the opportunity to show how untouchable she was. Alec hated the people aspect of it. Still, he always went with them.

So when the three of them slipped into the club, Alec reflexively winced and covered his ears. Isabelle elbowed him, and the siblings bickered about sound thresholds while Jace scanned the room for Clary. There was simply something about the little redhead that intrigued Jace. Maybe it was her attitude. Maybe it was her story. Maybe it was her impossibly green eyes.

Or her Marks. They shimmered in the dark of an alcove, where Clary and her friends sat and chatted. Unlike Jace, Alec and Isabelle, Clary made no effort to hide her Marks or stele. Jace tuned back in to his foster-siblings' argument as it reached a new low.

"Maybe if you'd make an effort when we go out," Isabelle was saying, "you'd actually meet someone you like."

"Well excuse me for not being social," snapped Alec. "Perhaps I don't want to have a reputation for sleeping around."

"Are you suggesting that I do?" hissed Isabelle.

"It's starting to get that way," said Alec. "And Mom and Dad are picking up on it. They've had three visitors in the last month comment."

"Maybe I'm just trying to protect you," said Isabelle.

"Maybe, in this one area, you should worry about yourself," said Alec. "Before you get into serious trouble."

"Found them," said Jace, interrupting their argument. "Come on, they're in the back corner." And knowing they would follow, Jace made his way to the brilliant red hair tucked into the corner. Isabelle, still seething, popped up his right elbow, fixing her features into a more pleasant expression.

"Hey, you came," said Clary with a warm smile and wary eyes. "I was wondering if you would actually show up."

"Here we are," said Jace. "Stop sulking, Alec, they're not going to bite."

"Well, not unless provoked," said the werewolf. "And then we claim self-defence. Well, I do anyway. Not sure about Simon."

The vampire, Simon, snorted. "I avoid non-consensual biting. It gets messy quickly. Besides, I'm pretty persuasive when I want to be."

"Ah, the vampire charmspeak," said Isabelle. "Should we worry about that tonight?"

"Not likely," said Simon. "You're Isabelle, right?"

"I am," said Isabelle. "That's my brother Alec. Jace is our foster brother."

"Clary told us," said the werewolf. "I'm Maia. Of the Chinatown pack. I've got a clean record, in case you were wondering."

"That's greatly reassuring," said Alec. "So how do you three know each other?"

"Biblically," said Simon, straight-faced. Clary elbowed him.

"They were asked to keep an eye on me," said Clary. "Simon nominally lives with the Queens coven. Basically, I grew up with Maia and Simon used to babysit me. We got to be friends."

"Cool," said Isabelle. "Is it disconcerting, Simon always being the same age while you two grow up?"

"Yes," said Simon and Maia in unison.

"So how did you three end up as a unit?" asked Clary. "I understand that most Shadowhunters live in Idris."

"My parents were friends with the Lightwoods," said Jace. "When my father died six years ago, I was sent to live with them. They're the first people I've known other than my father."

"Ouch," said Maia. "That's rough. Glad that I've got the pack. Luke's a great surrogate dad."

"Raphael's not awful either," said Simon. "All things considered. I could have gotten stuck living under Camille. That would have been terrible."

"Camille's vicious," agreed Clary. "Rumour has it that she's in Sri Lanka, and not planning to come back for a while."

"Good," muttered Maia. "She hates us. Especially Simon."

"I've heard of Camille," said Alec. "She's pretty famous."

"She's evil," said Simon flatly. "And I don't label may people that way."

"So is Valentine Morgenstern," said Clary softly. "All of us have been affected by him."

"What do you guys know about him?" asked Maia. "I'm curious about how the Nephilim are writing that chapter of their history."

"He was a crazy vengeful firebrand," said Isabelle with a shrug. "He's dead now, so who cares?"

"Do you believe that?" asked Clary, looking directly at Jace. "That he's really dead?"

"They found his bones," said Jace absently, mesmerized by her green eyes. "It's probable, really."

"This is morbid," said Isabelle, startling Jace. "We should dance or something, since there are no demons here tonight."

"Simon thoughtfully cleaned up," said Maia teasingly. "Come on, shy boy, I want to get a dance in before Magnus gets here." And seizing Alec's arm, she headed out to the floor.

Simon sighed. "Come on, pretty one. Maia can't be the only one having fun here." Grasping Isabelle's hand, he fought his way to the space where Alec and Maia were attempting to dance with Izzy in tow.

"I went through some things yesterday," said Clary, "And I found some old pictures from when my mother was young. This one is apparently Robert Lightwood and Michael Wayland. I made you a copy, in case you didn't have one and wanted one."

"Thanks," said Jace, taking the photo. Two dark-haired men sat on a fence, laughing, while a blond man leaned next to them. "There must be a mistake. None of these men is my father."

Clary shrugged. "I only know what Magnus and Luke tell me. And they both knew the guys in the photo."

Jace frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Who's the blond one?"

"Stephen Herondale," said Clary. "He was the current Inquisitor's son."

"Clary," said Magnus, appearing out of the crowd. "There you are. We have to go."

"Why?" asked Clary, clearly confused. "Magnus, what's going on?"

"Bad news," said Magnus grimly. "The Clave has your mother. You should go home too, Jace. I imagine that they'll have instructions for you, Alexander and Isabelle."

Clary got to her feet, stele in hand. "Let me get Simon and Maia."

"No time," said Magnus. "They'll get home on their own. Come on, Clarissa."

"Clary," said Jace, clutching the photo. "Can I see you again?"

"I don't know," said Clary. "I'll call you if I can. Just - be careful, okay? There are questions that have answers you won't like."

Magnus took her hand, and the two disappeared in a swirl of glitter.


	7. I And find what wind

And find what wind

"Jocelyn Morgenstern," said the Inquisitor in a ringing voice, "nee Fairchild, wife of Valentine Morgenstern, member of the Circle of Raziel. Are you prepared to face your judgement?"

"Ex-wife," said Jocelyn. "I cut off the marriage Marks years ago."

"Are you prepared?" demanded the Inquisitor.

"I am," said Jocelyn. "I will face my fellow Nephilim and answer their questions with the truth that I have knowledge of. And I am prepared to face consequences."

Three Silent Brother's stepped out of the shadows and handed the Soul-Sword to the Inquisitor. Another two sketched the final Runes into the circle surrounding Jocelyn. The Inquisitor stepped out of the rung of Nephilim and stabbed Maellartach down between two runes. She stepped back; the runes and Sword began to glow a pale white. Jocelyn shivered.

"We shall begin," announced the Inquisitor. She gestured to the man on her right to ask the first question.

"Where is Valentine?"

"I don't know," said Jocelyn. The Sword glowed blue.

"Where was the last place you saw him?"

"Budapest, eight years ago." The Sword glowed blue.

"What were you doing in Budapest?"

"I was searching for a lost set of documents. I didn't find them there." Blue glow again.

"Where have you been between the time of the Rising and the present?"

"Travelling around the world. I have not lived in any fixed place since I left Idris." Blue glow.

"Where were you during the Rising?"

"I was in the Hall of Accords. I fought on the side of the Clave." Blue glow.

"What was your role within the Circle?"

"I was Valentine's wife. Nothing more." The Sword glowed pink. Jocelyn bit back a scream as pain lanced through her bones.

"Answer the question again," commanded the Inquisitor.

Jocelyn inhaled. "I was Valentine's wife. I tried to moderate his views and methods. I was the mother of his children. I was one of his test subjects." The Sword glowed blue.

"What was he testing?"

"He wanted to see what effect demon blood would have in Nephilim. Particularly in the unborn." Blue glow.

"What were the purpose of these tests?"

"Valentine wanted to make the perfect soldier." Blue glow.

"Where is the Mortal Cup?"

"I don't know." The Sword glowed deep red. Jocelyn convulsed as her blood approached boiling in her veins.

The Inquisitor smirked. "Answer again, Jocelyn."

"New York," gasped Jocelyn. "I hid it in New York." The Sword glowed blue. The pain subsided.

"Where in New York is it hidden?"

"I don't know. Somewhere safe." Blue glow.

"How do you not know where it's hidden if you are the one who hid it?"

"I had the original spot erased from my memory. The Cup is moved every hundred and twenty eight days to a new location." Blue glow.

"Why did you take the Cup from Valentine?"

"I could not let him keep it. Not when he planned to use it in the way he did." Pale blue glow.

"Clarify that statement," ordered the Inquisitor.

"I could not let him use the Cup to cull the twenty percent of children who would survive the transformation, when he was willing to be indiscriminate about his choice of subjects. I could not let him kill innocents." The Sword glowed its strongest blue.

"At what point did you realize that is what he wanted?"

"After Jonathon was born. I found his workshop. And his journals." Blue glow.

"What was in the journals?"

"Lengthly test results. How long a vampire could be submerged in holy water before it stopped regenerating. How much silver dust a werewolf could withstand before it died. The use of iron, in liquid and dust forms, on faeries. It was beyond cruel, but completely scientific in approach." Blue glow.

A murmur raced around the room. Jocelyn heard the tones of horror and disgust in the voices of the gathered Nephilim. Her head spun; she shook her head to clear it.

"Was that when you chose to turn against your husband, damning all of your friends in the process?" Jocelyn turned her head to look at the speaker: Maryse Lightwood. Of course it would be Maryse.

"It was," said Jocelyn, her voice and gaze even as she looked at her former friend. "I found the notebook where he had kept records of his experiments on me during my pregnancy, experiments that were done without my knowledge or consent. I found evidence that he was doing similar experiments on Celine Herondale. It could not continue." The Sword glowed blue. Maryse looked stunned.

"Did you ever love Valentine?"

"I did. That was why I married him. I loved him until the day I discovered what he'd done to our son. I realized I didn't know him anymore, and I can't love someone I don't know." Blue glow.

"At the time of the Rising, you were expecting a second child. Where is that child now?" Jocelyn recognized this speaker as well; Madeline Bellefleur had been her only friend outside of the Circle after her marriage.

"Hidden," said Jocelyn. "Hidden so her father wouldn't find her. I had to protect her." Pale blue glow.

"Where?" asked the woman next to her. Amatis Greymark. Jocelyn wondered vaguely if she cared that Lucien was still alive.

"New York," said Jocelyn. "My baby is in New York." Jocelyn felt her knees buckle. Her eyes rolled back in her skull, and the world went black to her.


	8. I Serves to advance an honest mind

Serves to advance an honest mind

The photograph was burning a hole in Jace's pocket. As soon as Clary and Magnus were gone, he'd gone to get Alec and Isabelle. The worried looks on Maia and Simon's faces had set him more on edge than Clary's abrupt disappearance. They'd cabbed back to the Institute; Alec and Isabelle were smart enough to know when Jace didn't want to talk.

"Hodge!" called Jace as he pushed the library doors open. "Hodge!"

"You three are home early," commented Hodge from the armchair by the fireplace. "Did you have a good night?"

"Not really," said Isabelle. "We barely got any dancing in at Pandemonium. Jace didn't even get to kill something."

"Izzy," said Alec, "maybe not now." Church's ears pricked and he dashed out of the room. The four Nephilim ignored his hasty exit.

Jace approached the fireplace. "I have a question, Hodge. And I need you to tell me the truth. Tell me who the people in this photograph are."

Hodge took the photo from Jace and promptly blanched. "Where did you get this?"

"Does that matter?" snapped Jace. "Just tell me who they are."

"You recognize Robert Lightwood," said Hodge, pointing to him. "And this man here is Stephen Herondale. And this man…" He sighed. "This man is Michael Wayland."

"He looks nothing like the father I remember."

Hodge handed the photo back to Jace. "That's because the man you knew as Michael Wayland was not, in fact, him. Michael died on the day of the Rising, but not in it. He and his young son burned to death."

"So you've lied to me," said Jace with deadly softness.

"Yes. And I'm sorry you found out."

"So who is Jace's father, then?" asked Alec.

"I don't know," admitted Hodge.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" asked Jace, pacing back and forth in front of the hearth.

"There were three Jonathon Christophers in the Circle's children," said Hodge. "Jonathon Christopher Wayland is accounted for, being dead. But there were also Jonathon Christopher Morgenstern and Jonathon Christopher Herondale. And, as far as I know, Valentine raised both of you simultaneously."

"By the Angel," said Isabelle, shocked.

"Valentine," said Jace, thunderstruck. "You're telling me that I'm Valentine's son."

"Either by blood or adoption," said Hodge. "I wish I could tell you more, Jace. But I don't have all the answers."

"Is there a reason you didn't share this information with us when he arrived?"

Jace turned to face the speaker in the doorway. Maryse stood there in a travelling cloak, her gear underneath it. Behind her, Robert held Max's hand tightly, his face an eerie white. Church weaved through their legs and trotted down the stairs. He rubbed his head against Isabelle's legs until she picked him up and scratched under his chin.

"Welcome back, Maryse, Robert, Max," said Hodge.

"Spare us the pleasantries, Hodge," said Maryse tensely. "How long have you known that Jace was not Michael Wayland's son?"

"Since he was brought here," sighed Hodge. "I didn't tell you because Valentine asked me to keep an eye on the boy he was sending here for him. But I didn't know which he was. So I didn't say anything."

"That makes things more difficult," said Maryse. She pulled off her cloak as she walked down the stairs. She hugged Alec tightly as she passed him on the way to her desk.

"What things?" Isabelle asked her mother.

"The New York Institute has been instructed," said Maryse, "to seek and find the Mortal Cup, which is apparently hidden somewhere in the city. We have also been instructed to locate and deliver Valentine and Jocelyn Morgenstern's daughter to the Clave. She is also, apparently, hidden in New York."

"Then what's the complication?" asked Alec.

"If Jace is Valentine's son," said Maryse, "then we risk him betraying us. If he was raised by Valentine, then he was raised to be Valentine's creature, and the same risk applies."

"I wouldn't," said Jace. "I swear by the Angel that I'm loyal to the Clave. This is my family, Maryse. The people in this room."

"That's not an oath taken lightly," said Robert. "We'll have to trust him."

"I suppose we will," said Maryse.

"So then," said Hodge, "I'm going to guess that you have a strategy for this assignment?"

"I do," said Maryse. "Hodge, you and Robert are going to research places where the Cup might be hidden. I am going to see if I can figure out who Jocelyn might have entrusted it to."

"What do you want us to do?" asked Alec.

Maryse met her son's eyes without humour. "You three are going to track down the girl through the Downworlders. And when you find her, you're going to bring her to me."

End Act I


	9. II If thou be'st born to strange sights

If thou be'st born to strange sights

Clary stumbled into the kitchen far too early for anyone reasonable to be awake. The four people at the table looked up as she opened the fridge and retrieved the milk carton. Magnus drew up an extra chair as Clary poured herself a glass of milk. She settled between Magnus and Luke.

"Bad dreams?" asked Tessa.

"More unsettling than anything," said Clary. "I keep having the face dream."

"The face dream," said Raphael. "What is 'the face dream'?"

"Exactly that," said Clary. "It's just a face, a boy's face. I've never seen him before, but I know him. I've tried to draw him, or describe him, but I can't remember his features. But I feel connected to him."

"Unsettling indeed," said Raphael. "Perhaps this boy is someone you're about to meet, or someone you must meet."

"Or perhaps it's just an unsettling dream," said Luke. "Tessa?"

"The Cup has been moved," said Tessa, tracing the rim of her teacup. "I've done what I can to make sure it's secure. I also have had news of Camille. One of my sources says that she is moving into Egypt. Another source tells me that she is planning to return to New York."

Raphael uttered a stream of curses in Spanish. "If she does return, this could get bloody very quickly. And very few are strong enough to fight her."

"The Clave is preoccupied," added Luke. "And I refuse to get my pack involved with your coven's problems, Raphael. That will only make things worse."

"I'll help where I can," said Magnus. "But Valentine is my priority. I will not let him kill our kinds willy-nilly."

"Agreed," said Luke. "The word from Idris is that Jocelyn has had her trial. They're holding her under the Gard. She's fine, Clary."

Clary nodded. "I'm glad."

Raphael rose. "Dawn is coming. I must get home before it does."

"I'll show you out," said Magnus. "Besides, I need to let Chairman Meow in."

"Back to bed, Clary," said Tessa, tugging a lock of Clary's hair gently. "It's too early to be awake. Want me to stay with you?"

Clary shook her head. "Luke? Would you sing to me?"

"Sure," said Luke. He patted Tessa's shoulder as he passed her. "Get some rest, Tessa. You've done a lot in the past few days."

Clary retreated to her room and curled up under her blankets. When she settled, Luke began to sing. "Are you going to Scarborough fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there: she once was a true love of mine…"

In Clary's half awake state, she could almost hear her mother singing as well. Dream-Jocelyn stroked her hair as she sang, "On the side of a hill, in the deep forest green, tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground. Blankets and bedclothes, the child of the mountain sleeps unaware of the clarion call…"

In her dream, a boy with cold black eyes and white-blonde hair offered her a sword. The intensity of his stare stripped her defences. He cocked his head to one side and smiled with what could have been warmth had his eyes not been so blank. He lifted the sword and murmured, "Maellertach."

Clary woke to bright sunlight, the smell of coffee, and the unmistakeable sounds of Magnus dealing with a particularly difficult client. Someone - Clary suspected Tessa - had left a tray of breakfast foods on her bedside table. Little curls of steam still rose from the plate. She picked up a croissant - from a Paris bakery, most likely - and wandered over to her wardrobe. The mirrors on the doors reflected exhaustion and messy curls.

Having pulled herself together, Clary took the remnants of her breakfast to the kitchen. Magnus and a faerie knight called Meliorn were arguing over the coffee table in the living room. Clary took the apple from the tray and went to the living room to watch the fireworks.

"The court is the safest place for her," insisted Meliorn. "The Clave cannot search the whole thing. It would take them millennia."

"Yet it's the first place the Clave will look," snapped Magnus. "They're hardly stupid, for all they're military. At least one of them will be smart enough to play the game and win or at the very least draw."

"And what will you do to keep her safe?" demanded Meliorn. "The Clave knows where you live, knows she lives here."

"They don't actually know that," said Magnus. "They could guess, of course. Had you sent a representative to the meeting last night, this wouldn't be an issue."

"And why is that?"

"Because we spent the night hashing out a strategy," said Magnus, exaggeratedly patient. "If you had come then, you might have been part of the planning. As it is, your offer will be a last resort."

"The Queen will not be pleased," huffed Meliorn. "I shall return to her and inform her of your refusal of our offer."

"You do that," said Magnus. "I trust you know the way out at this point. Good morning Clary."

"Good morning," said Clary. "Hi Meliorn. Give my regards to the Queen."

"I certainly will," said Meliorn. He levelled a nasty glare at Magnus and stalked out the front door.

"So what is this plan of yours?" asked Clary, biting into her apple.

"The original plan was to put you in an enchanted sleep," said Magnus, "and then place you in a glass coffin with a guard of seven dwarves until this whole mess is sorted out. Tessa, that voice of reason, reminded us that you are no longer a toddler and therefore you ought to be part of what's going on."

"Remind me to get her something really nice for Christmas this year," said Clary.

"I suspect you'll remember on your own," said Magnus. "It was suggested that you not remain in one place for too long. So, you're going to wander around the city - make sure you visit all of the city - and sleep wherever is closest when you get tired. Kaelie has offered to host a sleepover at her apartment, so contact her if you want to do that. Luke's pack has a place for you, as does Raphael's coven. Tessa has offered to sneak you into the Institute as well, if such a thing should be necessary."

Clary blinked. "That's quite the plan."

"It is," said Magnus. "I know you can take care of yourself, Claradele. I would appreciate the odd phone call, when you're in a position to do so."

"Will do," said Clary. "I'll go grab my backpack then. Maybe I'll get some sketching done while I'm out."

"I'm sorry we can't do more to protect you."

Clary shrugged. "You've raised me, against your better judgement. You and Luke and Tessa and Raphael have always been there for me. I have to protect you too. I can, now."

"Off with you," said Magnus, flapping his hands at her. "I have to prepare a good cover story for when our friends from the Clave come by asking after you."

"We'll talk later," said Clary. "Are you going to be okay with Camille back in town?"

"It's not for sure that she's back," Magnus reminded her. "Camille is the past. I want to have the present and the future. We did split up for a reason, after all."

"Just checking," said Clary. She ducked back into her room and grabbed a few changes of clothes, her newest sketchbooks, stele, throwing knives, chakrams, and Heosphoros. It had been her tenth birthday present from her mother via Luke. She didn't often fight with it, but she loved it anyway. Tucking her hair into a beanie - there just weren't enough short redheads in New York to walk around without covering her hair - she stepped back out into the living room.

"Take these as well," said Magnus, tossing her a set of silvery bangles. "Should something happen, I'll be able to find you as long as they're on your body."

"That's reassuring," said Clary. She slipped them over her hand. "Here, just in case Alec comes by."

"You love me after all," said Magnus, taking the intricately inscribed sheet of paper from her. "And I just get him to bleed on it?"

"Blood and fingerprints should work best," said Clary. "Try not to trip over yourself."

"That is a brilliant idea," said Magnus. "Don't forget to eat once in a while."

"Right back at you," said Clary. Placing a speed and endurance rune on each ankle, Clary headed towards the insanity that was Times Square. It was a madhouse, but if you didn't want to be found, where better to go than a crazy tourist trap? The noise and the smell was terrible, but it would be better than the quiet of a park, where it would be easy to spot her.

Clary took a seat on the sidewalk in front of the NYPD station at the heart of the square. She pulled out one of her sketchbooks, flipped it open to a blank page, and sketched. Times Square, as it was, is, and would be, began to take shape under her fingers. Looking up to take in her surroundings, Clary met a stranger's eyes.

Recognition and revulsion rippled through her. Instinctively, Clary knew that this person who felt so wrong was her brother. Panicking, Clary shoved her sketchbook into her bag and raced through the crowds towards an alley. Quickly, she opened a portal and stepped through, emerging a block from the Hotel Dumont.

She missed the delighted smile that crossed Jonathan Morgenstern's face.


	10. II Things invisible to see

Things invisible to see

Jace followed Isabelle through the obstacle course that made up the entry to the Sealie court. It was natural, he supposed, to start here with beings who could not lie that they were well known for telling creative truths. Alec moped alongside him glaring at his sisters swinging braid as she navigated the various parts of the maze with practiced ease

"She's dating a fairy knight this week," grumbled Alec."He's hardly serious about her and this whole situation is getting completely ridiculous."

"She's Isabelle," said Jace. "Would you like to be the one to stop her?"

"It's not that I want her to stop," protested Alec, "it's that I would like her to be more discrete. Or not change boyfriends every other week."

"I can still hear you," called Isabelle. "Not everyone is a prude like you Alec."

"I'm so sure that you had this conversation before," said Jace. "In fact I'm pretty sure they you had this exact conversation a few days ago at Pandemonium."

"We did," said Isabelle. "And I'm still me and he's still him. People don't change in two or three days, Jace. It just doesn't happen."

"I'm tempted to test your theory," said Jace. "How much further til we're there?"

"Just around this corner," said Isabelle.

"Just like in England," quipped Jace as they rounded the last corner of the hedge maze. "Where everything is - oh you meant that literally."

The maze opened into a massive cavern. Staglemites and stagletites were carved into ornate columns that supported terraced platforms to the roof. All kinds of Fae mingled to music played in every corner. In a bright grassy patch, brightly clad brownies and sprites danced to lilting panpipes.

"None of us has ever been to England," Isabelle reminded him. "I've never been anywhere outside of New York City. Besides, I need to find Meliorn."

"Meliorn is away on the Queen's business," a selkie informed them smoothly. "Her majesty will see you now. Take these."

Jace, Alec and Isabelle accepted the shells from the selkie. She smiled at them, delighted, and led them through the riotous court. The dancers swirled before an audience that ebbed and flowed with the music. They passed small knots of laughing fae, and Jace noted a discussion that was quickly becoming a quarrel and would evolve into a fight. Alec noted it too.

"I wonder what they're fighting about," said Alec.

"Faeries are made of fire and light," said Jace. "The wonder isn't that they're fighting, the wonder is what the fight will look like."

"Unlike you, who are made of fire and clay," said the selkie, "we do not revel in battle. It does relieve boredom, though."

"Look Jace," said Alec, "something you have in common."

"I revel in battle though," said Jace.

"Too much lightning," said the selkie. "It's not healthy. Jindala, the Nephilim to see the Queen."

"Thank you Cliodhna," replied Jindala, a djinn. "Come in." She opened the massive double doors to the throne room.

"Leave the talking to me," Isabelle muttered.

The Seelie Queen sat in a throne of woven branches of all sorts. The walls of her throne room were covered in mosaics made from precious gems, and the floor was a mosaic in different kinds of marble. Her closest attendants flitted around the room, sharing gossip and chattering. A lone harpist sat in a corner, his music otherworldly in its beauty.

"Welcome, Children of Raziel," said the Seelie Queen. "What brings you to the Children of Faerie?"

"Is there not much to be seen and heard in the Seelie court?" asked Isabelle.

"Are you seeking something of importance?" inquired the Queen.

"Does any information lack importance?" countered Isabelle.

"So you seek any knowledge, regardless of significance?"

"Have you any great news that is insignificant?"

"What great news do you seek?"

"Where is the youngest star of morning?"

"Where should she be but between dawn and day?"

"Is she with the fallen star?"

"Which fallen star do you speak of?"

"Which is more dangerous?"

The Seelie Queen pursed her lips. "Why should each star not be dangerous in their own way?"

"Is the Morgenstern girl in New York City?"

"Have you not met her already?"

"Wait," said Jace, earning himself a glare from Isabelle, "are you saying that Clary, the girl who works for Magnus Bane, is Valentine's daughter?"

"And if I am?" asked the Queen.

"Is she my sister?" asked Jace.

"Do you not all share the same blood?"

"Other than Raziel's blood?" clarified Alec on Jace's behalf.

"Is having the angel's blood not enough?"

"Do we share Valentine's blood?" asked Jace.

The Seelie Queen sighed. "Do you not know that you and Clarissa and Valentine all share the same blood?"

"Thank you for your help," said Isabelle. "Please excuse us. We have an investigation to get going."

"My pleasure," said the Queen graciously. "I do love a good round of the question game."

"Then we are glad to have entertained you," said Alec. He stepped on Jace's foot as he went to say something. Each Lightwood sibling grabbed one of Jace's arms, bowed to the Seelie Queen, and left her throne room with Jace in tow.

"What was that for?" demanded Jace as soon as they were back in the cavernous hall.

"You were about to be stupid," said Alec. "As your parabatai, it's my job to prevent you from pissing off important people. She could do a lot of damage to us."

"Besides, we got the information we need," said Isabelle. "Your crush is Valentine's daughter. How do you feel about that?"

"I am not having a feelings talk with you right now," said Jace. "And probably not ever."

"Let him process, Isabelle," said Alec. "We all just got a lot of information. Mom will want us to act on it immediately."

"Of course she will," snorted Isabelle. "So where to now?"

"Where we started looking," said Jace. "We're going to visit Magnus Bane again."

"What are the chances he'll actually help us?" asked Alec.

"If it's me asking, none," said Jace with a shrug. "Same with Isabelle. If it's you, though, he might help."

"Why me?" asked Alec, slightly bewildered.

"He thinks you're hot," said Isabelle. "This could be a good thing for you, Alec. Just give it a go."

"Isabelle," groaned Alec. "Give it up, please. There's no way Magnus Bane is interested in me."


	11. II Ride ten thousand days and nights

Ride ten thousand days and nights

Jocelyn's cell under the Gard was significantly less comfortable than the tree she'd slept in a few nights ago. Fortunately, she was regularly fed. Less fortunately, she didn't have a window cell, so she couldn't even bask in the sun. Her guards didn't talk to her or each other, so she had no way of knowing what was happening aboveground. Nonetheless, Jocelyn had a good idea of what the Clave would do. She paced back and forth, anxious to get out of the cell and find her daughter. She could care less about the Mortal Cup; if the Clave found Clary, all her work would be for nothing. She wasn't about to lose her daughter the way she had lost nearly everyone else she loved.

The turning of the key in the lock drew Jocelyn's attention. It wasn't nearly time for another meal, and Jocelyn doubted that the Inquisitor wanted to speak with her. She paused her pacing and watched as the door opened to reveal Madeline and Amatis.

"Come Jocelyn," said Madeline. "We have to get you out of here."

"I'm surprised to see you, Madeline," said Jocelyn, stepping out of her cell. "I didn't think I was going to be released."

"You haven't been," said Madeline grimly as they quickly walked down the hallway. "We're breaking you out. Here, I got you a change of clothes."

"Thanks,"said Jocelyn, accepting the stack of black fabric and ducking into a storage closet. They were a little big on her, but the extra fabric wouldn't slow her down.

"We'll have to raid the armoury," said Amatis. "I wasn't sure what you preferred to use. I did manage to get you a stele."

"Thank you Amatis," said Jocelyn. "Why are you helping me?"

"I was wrong to cut contact with you after the divorce," said Amatis. "And I was wrong to turn Lucien away. Things need to change, Jocelyn. I'm not brave enough to do it alone."

"And I am also sorry," said Madeline. "Maryse is hunting down your daughter. The Inquisitor thinks that she knows where the Cup is. I shouldn't have asked about her."

"It's alright," said Jocelyn. "Fine, it's not. But none of us can change that now."

"We had better finish getting you suited up," said Amatis. "I have no idea what it will be like in New York."

"What?"

"Amatis and I will be going with you," said Madeline. "You've been alone for too long. We're helping."

"You didn't think we were going to make you face Valentine alone, did you?" asked Amatis.

Jocelyn shrugged. "I'm used to it by now. Even when we were married, I had to deal with him alone."

"I told you so," said Madeline.

"And I should have listened," conceded Jocelyn. "But I didn't, and I can't change that now. I wouldn't give up Clary for the world, despite her father."

The rest of their trip to the armoury was done in silence. Once they reached it, Jocelyn sought her weapons: Seleachoros, her family sword; her throwing knives; and the naginata that had been a wedding gift from Luke. She also took chakrams - Luke said that Clary was good with them, and she wanted her baby to have them - and a recurved bow and quiver. Madeline added sai and an axpike to her arsenal. Amatis picked up a bow and quiver of her own as well as a whip. They all took extra seraph blades.

"We should head to the Portal," said Madeline. Jocelyn nodded. The three women slipped through the Gard and entered the Portal room. No one was watching it; but then, no one was expected.

"Hold tightly to me," said Jocelyn. "I know where we're going, but neither of you have been there before."

"This is sort of exciting," murmured Amatis, grasping Jocelyn's left arm. "I've never left Idris before."

Madeline took Jocelyn's right arm. "It has been a while since I've been anywhere. This part will be fun."

They stepped into the whirl of the Portal. Jocelyn focused on Battery Park, where the only people who would see them were the Fae and the homeless. When she opened her eyes again, the salty smell of the Atlantic Ocean and the honking of New York traffic met her. Amatis was openly gaping at the city, Madeline scanning the area and checking her Sensor for imminent trouble.

"Where are we, Jocelyn?" asked Amatis.

"In a part of New York City called the Battery," said Jocelyn. "In the borough of Manhattan. We should get going. We need to get to White and Lafayette Street."

"Who lives there?" asked Madeline.

"Lucien," said Jocelyn. "He's one of Clary's guardians. And I thought it would be nice for him and Amatis to see each other again."

"I'd like to see him," admitted Amatis. "If only to apologize to him."

The three women started walking up Broadway, Amatis and Madeline taking in the sights as they went. Jocelyn's mind was focused only on getting to Luke so she could protect her daughter. She wasn't blind to the changes the city had made since she had last been there, but they didn't matter to her. Not the way they mattered to her friends.

"It's so big," muttered Amatis. "How do people not get lost here?"

"I suppose if you live here, you get used to it," said Madeline. "Miss Idris yet?"

"Not at all," retorted Amatis. "I can't wait to meet Clary and see my brother again. And when all is said and done, I want to explore the city while I can."

Madeline and Amatis kept up their banter until they turned onto Lafayette Street. Jocelyn didn't participate, and the other two didn't expect her to. Once they reached the bookstore that Luke owned, Jocelyn stopped. She took a deep breath, walked down the stairs and rang the bell. After a few minutes, the door opened and Luke appeared. He stared at the trio and gestured them in.

"It's good to see you again, Jocelyn," said Luke. "You too, Amatis. I didn't think I would see either of you again."

"It's good to be back in New York," said Jocelyn.

"So what's happening here?" asked Madeline.

Luke sighed. "You had better sit down. There's a lot of news to catch up on, and most of it is very bad."

"How bad are we talking?" asked Amatis.

"Valentine's making his move," said Luke. "Camille Belcourt has returned to retake the vampire coven. And Raphael called an hour ago to tell me that Clary reported seeing and being seen by Jonathan Morgenstern."

"What are you going to do?" asked Jocelyn softly.

"Move against Valentine," said Luke. "My pack is committed to battling any demon army that is summoned to New York. Camille is Raphael's problem. As for Jonathan… Clary's going to have to handle him on her own."

"Can she?"

"Paired with Simon, Maia or Magnus? Absolutely. On her own? There's an even chance of her taking him down."

"So what's the plan now, Jocelyn?" asked Madeline. Amatis leaned forward.

"We find Clary," said Jocelyn. "Before anyone else does."


	12. II Til Age Snow White Hairs on Thee

Till age snow white hairs on thee

The trip from Central Park to Brooklyn was punctuated by Alec and Isabelle's arguments over each other's love lives. Jace learned, by eavesdropping on his adoptive siblings, a few things about his parabatai that he hadn't noticed or suspected. All things considered, Alec was rather tolerant of Jace and Isabelle's proclivity for seeking attention. He hadn't been anything but supportive of Jace's few flings despite - according to Isabelle - a substantial crush on Jace. And despite his feelings on Isabelle's love life, he had never told Maryse and Robert about it.

Jace found himself appreciating Alec a whole lot more than he had before.

"Listen, you two," said Jace, interrupting Isabelle, "if Magnus Bane can help me find Clary, then I will be forever grateful to him. There's something _right_ about her that I can't explain. If it so happens that he likes you Alec, would that be so bad?"

"I can't risk losing everything," said Alec, shaking his head. "You don't understand, Jace."

"I did lose everything," said Jace. "I don't even know who I am anymore. I have always thought that to love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be destroyed. Now I wonder. Love is terrifying, but is it worth it?"

"You won't lose us, Alec," said Isabelle. "Jace and I will stand by you, no matter what. We're family, and we love you."

"Even when you've been holding out on us," said Jace. "We spend enough time among Downworlders, do you think you loving other men would bother us?"

"Yes," said Alec flatly.

"It bothers me more that you didn't trust me with the secret," said Jace, "especially since you've kept my secrets and Izzy's."

"This is different," snapped Alec. "I can't change this. You can change who you date."

"You're still my parabatai and my brother," said Jace, "and nothing is going to change that. Magnus Bane may or may not be the one for you, but we do need to talk to him, and we need to do that today. I'm getting tired of hearing the same conversation over and over again."

"Jace is right," admitted Isabelle. "You don't have to make a decision about Magnus or telling our parents today, Alec. Just know that we know and still love you. Who else would put up with our egos?"

Alec sighed. "I'll keep that in mind, Izzy. We should head to Bane's apartment. The gallery is closed today, so he'll likely be there."

He pushed past Jace and continued up the street, pausing at the corner that would take them to the Warlock's apartment. Jace and Isabelle hurried to catch up to him. Jace ran the conversation through his mind as he walked. How had he missed something so important? Alec was his best friend, one of his few friends, one of the very few people he liked genuinely. Perhaps he had been afraid that Valentine had been right: that letting Alec love him would destroy Jace.

It couldn't be true though. Most likely, loving Jace was destroying Alec as his unrequited love went ignored and passed over. Jace was alive because Alec cared enough to cover his back, to patch him up when they got into a bad scrape, to lie to Hodge and his parents about those injuries because Jace had asked him to. Or maybe caring made Alec stronger than Jace knew how to be.

"You're not usually introspective about anything," said Isabelle. "Are you okay?"

"Introspection wasn't part of my childhood studies," said Jace, "but Alec is my best friend. My first friend. The first person my age I ever met. And I've thought that the Law was wrong about many things for a long time now."

"You play heartless," snorted Isabelle. "You care about us."

"Of course I do," said Jace, surprised. "You're my family."

They caught up to Alec, and Isabelle dropped the topic. The set of Alec's shoulders told Jace that he was on the defensive, that he was waiting to be attacked or hurt. Jace's heart squeezed. He set a hand on Alec's shoulder.

"I meant it when I said you're still my brother," said Jace. "Which way now?"

"Down this street," muttered Alec, charging ahead. Jace and Isabelle followed him right up to Magnus Bane's apartment door. Alec rang the doorbell.

"Hello," cooed Bane when he opened the door and saw Alec. "I was hoping you'd come by. Come in." He glanced at Jace and Isabelle. "I suppose you can come in as well."

"We need your help," said Isabelle.

"When don't you?" said Magnus. "No one makes social calls anymore."

"We're looking for Clarissa Morgenstern," said Jace. "It's urgent."

"Well, you've come to the wrong place," said Magnus. "She's not here. And I refuse to give you a tracking spell."

"Then we'll make this a social call," said Alec. "Do you have any tea?"

Magnus beamed. "I thought you'd never ask."


	13. II Thou, when thou return, wilt tell me

Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me

Vampires do not like to be woken during the day. Clary, in her rush to get away from Jonathan, had forgotten that it was unlikely that Raphael or any of his coven would be awake at ten-thirty on a sunny morning. She walked through the city until she reached Kaelie's apartment on the edge of the Upper West Side. The curtains were firmly closed, but Clary was sure that Kaelie would open the door for her.

A bleary-eyed Kaelie answered the door when Clary knocked. "Clary? What are you doing here so early?"

"Can I come in?" asked Clary. "It's important."

"Sure," said Kaelie, opening her door more so that Clary could slip in. "Honey and lemon in your tea? Or just black?"

"Honey and lemon, please," said Clary. "How was the party last night?"

"Same old," shrugged Kaelie. "You get used to the revels after a while. What happened to you?"

"I saw-" began Clary. "He found me. My brother."

"Are you alright?" demanded Kaelie, suddenly fully awake.

"I'm fine," Clary assured her. "Just a little rattled. I mean, I was hiding in Times Square. You can't find anyone in Times Square."

"But he didn't attack you?"

"That's the weird part. He just stared at me."

"Hm."

"And he felt wrong. Like he wasn't really supposed to be here. On Earth."

"Like a demon or something?"

"Pretty much. As close to a demon as a human can be. Nephilim. Whatever."

"I understand you. Why don't you stay here for a while and then meet up with Tessa at Java Joe's? I'm sure she'll help you."

"Thanks Kaelie. Mind if I draw?"

"Not at all," said Kaelie with a yawn. "I'm going back to bed. It's been exhausting."

Clary settled into a wicker armchair away from the window. She tore a page out of her sketchbook and sent fire messages to Magnus, Tessa, Luke and Raphael. Raphael wouldn't get his until he woke for the night, but he would know what was happening. It was guaranteed that Luke, Tessa and Magnus would get their notes immediately, and that was the best that Clary could hope for.

Ignoring the half-finished sketch of Times Square, Clary started sketching items around Kaelie's living room: a teacup, an antique lamp, an ornate vase, a doily. Solid lines and gradation flowed from the tip of her pencil. Drawing was almost meditative for Clary, soothing and consistent. She stayed in a near trance in Kaelie's living room until the Fae got up for her evening shift at Taki's.

"You're still here?" said Kaelie as she pulled her hair into a messy bun. "I thought you'd have left hours ago."

"I lost track of time," said Clary. "I got caught up in your living room. Want to see?"

"Sure," said Kaelie, peering at the page. "You keep getting better. These look like you could pull them off the page, almost."

"Thanks, Kaelie," said Clary. "I have a question for you."

"Ask."

"Would you be upset if I dated Jace?"

"Jace Wayland? Not at all. We've been done for a long time. And I'm old enough to know not to hang on to mortals. You just go so fast. It's what makes you so beautiful to us. Well, to the Fair Folk, anyway. Besides, you'd be cute together."

"You think so?"

"Well, you'd have gorgeous babies, that's for sure. I'd watch over them, Clary, don't worry."

"Thanks Kaelie."

"Don't worry about it. Remember, he likes you too. Enough to go out of his way to ask about you. And Magnus told me he seemed pretty interested at Pandemonium."

"I thought so too. You're my friend, Kaelie. I don't want things to be awkward between us over a boy."

"Me neither. Especially since I think for you, he's _the_ boy."

"We'll have to wait and see."

"Yup. And I have to go to work. I'll see you in a couple of days, alright?"

"See you Kaelie."

Kaelie picked up her bag and stepped out the door, shutting it firmly behind her. Clary collected her sketch pad and various pencils, noting that it was six o'clock and that she had three fire messages sitting on the table beside her that she didn't remember receiving. She picked them up and read them: a quick conformation from Magnus; a more detailed note from Luke asking about her well-being; and a note from Tessa confirming their meetup at Java Joe's at seven.

Clary shoved the notes, her sketchpad and pencils into her bag. She left Kaelie's apartment, locking the door behind her. Bad things happened to those who invaded Faerie homes, but in New York it was better to be safe than sorry. She headed for the subway that was a few blocks away.

She had no idea that she would never make it to Java Joe's.


	14. II All strange wonders that befell thee

All strange wonders that befell thee

Tea with Magnus Bane was a very strange experience for Jace. For starters, there was the parlour that appeared out of nowhere between the front hall and the kitchen. Secondly, there was the tea itself, flavoured exactly the way Jace liked it. And lastly, there was Isabelle kicking him every time he opened his mouth. It was only after there was a solid bruise on his shin that Isabelle deigned to explain her insanity.

"Let Alec talk to him," she hissed. "They're getting along so well. Don't ruin this. I don't care that we're on a mission for the Clave, my mission of making my brother happy is more important."

"Is my happiness so unimportant?" asked Jace.

"Your happiness, believe it or not, depends on Mom not finding Clary. I won't tell if you don't."

"Done."

"Is something bothering the two of you?" asked Magnus. "Because I have a little experiment that I'd like to try on Alec. Don't worry, it won't hurt. Much."

"Is it illegal, immoral or disgusting?" asked Alec warily.

"None of the above," said Magnus. "Well, a little disgusting. I just need your bloody fingerprints for it to work."

"Not disgusting at all," said Alec.

"Excellent," said Magnus. He went to the kitchen. When he returned, he was holding a piece of paper with runes inscribed on it. "Just place your fingerprints in the spaces in the pattern. The bigger spaces."

"What does it do?" asked Jace. Isabelle kicked him.

"It's designed to show you your true love," said Magnus. "Or in my case, true love for this century. Immortality complicates things."

"Unless you're with another immortal," Jace pointed out.

Magnus shook his head. "There are complications with that too. If Alexander has met his true love, then their name will show up on the paper. If not - well, keep the paper and you'll find your special someone."

"Jace, don't," said Alec as Jace opened his mouth again. "I want to do this."

Jace sat back, watching carefully as Alec cut his fingers and placed them between the runes. At once, the page lit up with golden light and the blood and runes rearranged themselves on the page. Isabelle looked curious, Alec seemed amazed, and Magnus was impassive to Jace. Finally the glow died down and a name was visible.

"Magnus Bane," read Alec. He looked at the warlock. "You did one of these too, one that had my name come up."

"I did," said Magnus. "And your name did come up. Clary teased me about it. They are her invention, after all."

"Clary made them?" said Isabelle. "Not you?"

"Those are angelic runes, not purgatic or demonic," said Magnus. "They're hers."

"So what does this mean?" asked Alec.

Magnus shrugged. "It means that there's a strong probability we would be good for each other. It does not mean that we have to be together romantically or even platonically. If you wanted to give us a try, I am open to the idea."

"I'm not-" Alec stuttered. "I don't- This is a lot for me."

"Take your time," said Magnus. "Think about what you want. I'm here when you're ready. I only have forever."

"Not long at all," said Alec quietly. Magnus' face lit up.

"I love _Labyrinth_," said Magnus. "Such a good movie. You haven't seen it, have you? We'll have to watch it then."

"I'd like that," said Alec. "I'd like to get to know you better."

"As would I," said Magnus.

"We should get going," said Jace. "Maryse will want to know what we've found out today."

"Which is nothing," said Isabelle. "You're doing a good job at protecting her from us."

"Good," said Magnus. "I would hate to think that someone slipped."

"It was good seeing you again," said Alec shyly. "When everything is sorted out, maybe I could come over? And we can talk?"

"I would like that," said Magnus. He rose and ushered them to the door. "Pass my greetings to Maryse and Robert."

"Of course," said Isabelle. "We'll be seeing you."

Jace followed Alec and Isabelle back towards the subway. He mulled over all of the new information he had gotten today: he still wasn't sure of who he was, Clary was Valentine's daughter, Alec was gay and had a crush on him, Magnus and Alec were supposedly true loves. There was a grain of normal in there somewhere, he was sure of it. Jace's memory of Clary at Pandemonium kept him from panicking; everything else that had seemed so solid was crumbling around him so fast.

"Jace, are you okay?" asked Isabelle. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"Just processing today," said Jace. "I'll be fine, Isabelle."

Isabelle shrugged and turned her attention back to the subway map. Jace hadn't realized that they were even on the subway, heading back into Manhattan and towards home. He noted that Isabelle seemed a little more tense than usual, and that Alec seemed a little more relaxed. More at home in his skin than before. Something that Jace used to be.

And would be again, if he had his way.

As they walked from the subway stop to the Institute, Jace spotted two struggling figures. One of them was short and had red hair. The other looked like Maryse. Isabelle, also spotting the struggle, ran towards her mother. Alec and Jace followed hard on her heels.

"Mom!" called Isabelle. Maryse and the redhead turned to look at them. Jace's heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. It was Clary. Maryse had found her.

"Look what I found a few blocks away from here," said Maryse.

"You could have left the search to us, Mom," said Isabelle. "We were on it."

"I didn't go looking for her deliberately," said Maryse. "I went to get groceries and spotted her."

"How did you know she's Clary?" asked Alec. "There are lots of redheads in New York."

"She's the spitting image of Jocelyn at the same age," snorted Maryse. "I would have to be blind to not know her when I see her."

"And stupid if you think you can keep her," came a voice from behind them.

Jace turned to look at the speaker. Three women in black hunting gear stood there. The blonde on the left spun a knife through her hands. The brunette on the right had her arms crossed over her chest. It was the redhead in the middle who held Jace's attention. Her green eyes watched Maryse's sword at Clary's neck. Jace knew in a heartbeat who she was.

"Why don't you do us all a favour Maryse," said Jocelyn coldly, "and take your hands off my daughter."


	15. II And swear nowhere

And swear no where

"Mom!" said Clary. Jocelyn greedily drank in the sight of her daughter. It had been years since she'd seen Clary in person. To her left, Amatis shifted forward.

"All Nephilim know the Morgensterns are traitors to us," spat Maryse. "Even the members of the Circle know this."

"How can Clary be a traitor," said Madeline, "when she's never even met her father?"

"She consorts with Downworlders," said Maryse. "And she's hiding the Mortal Cup from the Clave."

"Clary has never known the location of the Cup," said Jocelyn, "so you're wasting your time there. As for consorting with Downworlders… rumour has it that _your_ daughter was seen swapping spit and possibly other bodily fluids with a faerie knight a week ago. It would seem that you don't have room to judge."

"Isabelle?" said Maryse, astounded. "Isabelle, tell me it isn't true."

"It is, actually," said Isabelle. "We split up, though. I'm dating a vampire now."

"I don't -"

"Who else is she going to date?" demanded Alec. "Jace is her brother as much as I am. It's too hard with a mundane. There aren't any Shadowhunters our age in the city. Do you want her to go for Hodge?"

"No," said Maryse, lips pursed. "You are, of course, correct. We'll have to arrange marriages for the three of you - four of you, I suppose - as soon as possible. There needs to be an end to this madness."

"Over my dead body," snapped Isabelle. "I'm not marrying a stranger because you have some archaic notion about Downworlders. And I refuse to marry someone I can't respect."

"I've already met someone I want to be with," said Jace. "Granted, you're threatening to decapitate her at the moment. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop."

"She's your sister!"

"I think I would know my own son when I saw him," said Jocelyn. "That boy is not my son. My son has an aura of cruelty about him, and Valentine would never let his own flesh out of his influence. That boy is Stephen and Celine's son. He's the spitting image of Stephen Herondale."

"Thanks for clearing that up," said Jace. "I was starting to have an identity crisis. Any longer and I might have started believing that I was three people trapped in one body."

"Step away from Clary, Maryse," said Amatis. "This doesn't have to be difficult."

"You don't understand the position that I'm in," snapped Maryse.

"And what position would that be?" asked Jocelyn. "Besides the position where you're holding a sword to my daughter's throat for no reason."

"Hardly no reason," said Maryse. "My marriage, my children, my place within the Clave, depend on her. On you."

"Wait, what Mom?" said Isabelle.

"We're marked as Valentine's supporters," said Maryse. "My fault. I pulled Robert into it. There is little chance that any of the three of you will be considered for positions high in the Clave."

"You loved Valentine," said Jocelyn. "More than you ever loved Robert. Or anyone else."

"Even your own children," said Madeline softly.

"How can you say that?" demanded Maryse. "You don't have children, Madeline. Neither do you, Amatis."

"I would have been a mother if I'd had a chance," said Amatis. "I would have taken Jace in when Celine died for love of Stephen."

"And Jocelyn doesn't care about the children she does have!" cried Maryse, ignoring Amatis.

Jocelyn adjusted her grip on her sword. "Don't you dare say I don't love my children. Not when I have given up so much for their safety. Now step away from Clary."

"I have been charged-"

"We have slightly larger problems to concern ourselves with at the moment," said Madeline. "Problems that are more significant than the past."

"Like what?" asked Isabelle.

"Camille Belcourt may well be in New York, for starters," said Amatis.

"Valentine is raising an army of demons either in Idris or somewhere here," added Madeline.

"Jonathan Morgenstern is hunting your children," said Jocelyn. "He will not rest until he has found Clary, killed anyone who might prove a threat to his end goals, and taken her back to Valentine."

Maryse carefully moved her sword away from Clary's neck. "Why?"

"I don't know," said Jocelyn. "Valentine was - is - obsessed with the Song of Solomon. Certainly Jonathan has murmured it every time he's been close to finding me. All I know is that Valentine wants me back, wants Clary under his control, and wants the Mortal Instruments."

"What for?" asked Alec.

"To summon Raziel," said Jocelyn, "and force a change to the Law, mandated by the Angel himself. To destroy all Downworlders, and to cull the necessary Shadowhunters from the human population."

"That is insane," said Isabelle.

"I know," said Jocelyn. "I was married to that madness."

"Then it's all true, what you told the Clave?" asked Maryse tentatively. "About the experiments, even on your children?"

"It is," said Jocelyn. "Maellertach would have shown it if I had lied."

"How could he?" whispered Maryse with disbelief.

"As your daughter said, it was madness," said Jocelyn. "The real question is, how did we allow that madness to rule our lives so thoroughly?"


	16. II Lives a woman true or fair

Lives a woman true and fair (Clary)

They stood in silence, a rough circle of the shocked. Finally, Clary had had enough and ran the few steps to her mother. Jocelyn clung to her like she was a stone in a whirlpool, the only thing keeping her from drowning. Madeline and Amatis wrapped their arms around Jocelyn and Clary; Clary felt like she was wrapped in a cocoon of safety and love that Magnus, for all his magic, couldn't provide. This was family. This was her mother and godmothers.

"I'm glad you're all here," said Luke, jogging up to the group. Maryse stiffened.

"You're alive," she said flatly. The knot of women broke up and looked at Luke.

"Alive and an Alpha werewolf," agreed Luke. "It's good to see you, Maryse. I have some bad news."

"It wouldn't be the same bad news that I'm bringing, would it?" asked Magnus out of nowhere.

"Where did you come from?" cried Maryse.

"Hell," said Magnus. "Someone is summoning a medium sized army of demons at the Empire State Building."

"That was my news," said Luke. "We're going to need help, Maryse. And a lot of it."

"I'll have Robert call the Conclave," said Maryse. "It will have to be enough."

The roar of a motorcycle filled the air. About ten feet from where they stood, a vampire bike touched down and skidded to a stop in front of Isabelle. The driver pulled his helmet off to reveal a mussed and harried looking Simon.

"I thought this was the right spot," said Simon.

"Simon!" cried Clary. "What brings you here?"

"I've been looking everywhere for you," said Simon. He looked over at Magnus. "Camille's back, and she's challenged Raphael for the Hotel Dumont. He needs all the help he can get."

"Clary and I are needed elsewhere," said Magnus.

"I'll help," volunteered Isabelle. "I'm not needed anywhere else."

"Great," said Simon with obvious relief. "Clary, could you show her the Mark?"

"Sure," said Clary. She drew it on the back of a receipt and handed it to Isabelle. "Draw one on Simon and have him draw one on you. You'll share abilities and it'll boost your ability to win."

Isabelle stared at her. "You realize that you could create world peace with this, right?"

Clary laughed. "I doubt that. Get going. If Raphael needs help, he's really in trouble."

Quickly, Isabelle and Simon copied the swirling Mark onto each other. Isabelle climbed on the motorcycle behind Simon, and the two of them sped off in the direction of the Hotel. Maryse looked slightly pained as she watched her daughter go.

"The Mark works well," Magnus assured her. "Isabelle will be perfectly safe. And when it wears off, she will be no different than she was before."

"What do you want to do about the demon army Magnus?" asked Luke.

"You and your lot take the downtown," said Magnus. "Tessa and I can defend Brooklyn and Queens. The Queen has hers out in Central Park; the Fey will defend there. The vampires will do what they can, but there may be a regime change in the works tonight."

"I wish to go with you, Lucien," said Amatis. "I want to fight by your side, as your sister."

"I'm grateful," said Luke. "I've missed you, Amatis. Clary, show her the Mark as well. I'll share my strength with Amatis."

Silently, Clary handed Amatis a slip of paper with the Mark drawn on it. Amatis and Luke wasted no time in applying the Mark to each other. They hugged once the Mark was complete, over a decade of no contact catching up to them.

"I'm glad that you're okay," whispered Amatis. "So glad that you're still here."

"Me too," said Luke. "Come on, the pack is waiting for me to return. We have a ways to go."

"Will we take the subway?" asked Amatis. She handed the slip of paper back to Clary.

"Sure," said Luke. "We can catch up on the way." He led her towards the nearest subway stop. "We'll see you all when the battle is over, Jocelyn."

"See you on the other side," said Jocelyn with a wave.

"So that's Chinatown and the vampire problem taken care of," said Magnus. "Would you care to give me a hand in Brooklyn, Alexander?"

"Do you need a hand?" asked Alec.

"Not really," said Magnus, "but it would be nice to have some energy left in case someone is dying and needs my expertise."

"I'd like to fight beside you," said Alec. "With you. Do you want the joining Mark?"

"I would," said Magnus. "I even know how it goes."

"I'll give you a reference sketch anyway," said Clary, handing them the paper with the Mark on it. "It would be bad if it went wrong."

"Thank you for your consideration," said Magnus. "Be safe, Claradele. Come along Alexander, Brooklyn awaits us." He opened a portal and pulled Alec through it after him.

"Mom, where are you going?" asked Clary.

"I-," began Jocelyn.

A snide voice interrupted her. "Yes Mother, where are you going?"

"Jonathan," said Jocelyn.

"Who else?" asked Jonathan sardonically.

"We should go to the Empire State Building," said Madeline. "Valentine still needs to be stopped."

"But-," started Jocelyn.

"Go on, Mom," said Clary. "Jace and I have got this. Stop Valentine."

"I'm coming with you," said Maryse.

"You really think you can stop him?" laughed Jonathan. "You're women. You're weak."

"I gave birth twice," said Jocelyn. "That's not a task for the weak or faint of heart."

"Mom, go," urged Clary. "I've got this."

"I'll see you soon," said Jocelyn, hugging Clary quickly. She ran off in the direction of the Empire State building, Madeline and Maryse close behind her.

"Something you'd like to say to me?" asked Clary.

Jonathan's lips twisted upward. "Found you, Clarissa."


End file.

Mortal Instruments, Adventure, Family