Disclaimer: SOME of the dialogue in this chapter, all characters (but Grace and Philip), the main story line and settings belong to the amazing Cassandra Clare. Grace, Philip and my own story plot belong to me. The Infernal Devices do not belong to me.

*****************************************************************************************

'Stuck behind the glass and the walls are closing in
Stuck inside a past that won't let me leave
But I'm in chains while you're breaking free

 Stuck behind the glass and I'm waiting for your call
Nothing ever lasts for a prisoner
I'm in chains while you're breaking free
And it's killing me.'

- Flaws, Olly Murs

*******************************************************************************************

-*-*-*-*- Grace -*-*-*-*-

"Grace, are you all right?" her mother asked. Grace was speechless, her mouth opening and closing but no words coming out.

"Mother?" she managed. Her mother gave her a quizzical look.

"Yes?"

"You...you're alive?" Grace stammered.

"Yes, I am alive, Grace," she said. "Thank you for noticing."

"But Yanluo..." Grace stood from the bed. She was bare foot and dressed in a white night gown, her hair wild around her head. She spun around, taking in every detail of her old room in Shanghai.

"This can't be happening," she whispered, her hands going to her head. "This can't be happening." Her mother came towards her and put a cold hand on her forehead. Grace almost flinched away, thinking her hand would go right through her.

"You do seem a little hot," she said. "Perhaps you've got a fever." Grace couldn't believe any of this. How many times had she craved her mother's loving hand since she had died? How many times had she wished for her to hug her again and tell her everything was going to be all right?

But no. This had to be some sort of elaborate trick by Yanluo. None of this was real. She couldn't get too attached. She couldn't lose her all over again.

"I'm sorry," Grace said, backing away and fumbling for the door. "I'm so sorry." She yanked on the handle and ran from the room, down the long twisting corridors which she still remembered. Everywhere she turned, there were memories from her time in this Institute, the very place where she and Jem were born. Every detail was there. Every tiny tear in the wall paper and smallest dent in the witchlight lamps.

She came to the stairway that lead to the main entrance. She could see the door right in front of her, big and bold like it had always been.

"All right, Yanluo!" she shouted, spinning around and yelling at the ceiling. "I get it! You hate me! But this is just cowardly! Just end this now!"

"Grace?" a voice asked. A very familiar voice. Grace whipped around.

Jem.

A healthy looking Jem.

No silver eyes.

No silver hair.

No startlingly pale skin.

"Jem?" she gasped. Grace ran forward and threw her arms around his neck. He hesitated for a moment but then wrapped his arms around her too.

"What is it, Grace?" Jem asked. "Has something happened?"

"I have no idea," she mumbled. "I'm stuck in a nightmare." Jem pulled away, holding her shoulders, looking confused and worried. He was wearing training gear and looked like he had just come from the training room, colour in his cheeks and his forehead damp with sweat.

"Are you sure you're all right, Grace?" he said slowly. "Because, no offence, you look rather mad. And you were shouting at the ceiling which is never a good sign. Also, what are you talking about? A nightmare? Grace, everything is fine. You're safe, I promise." Grace put a hand on her forehead.

"This is not right, Jem," she said, backing away.

"Why do you keep calling me 'Jem?'" he said. Grace looked at him.

"Because that's your name," she said. "Your name is James Carstairs but everyone calls you Jem."

"My name is Jian, Grace," he said gently. "James may be my English name, but my real name is Jian. You know the deal mother and father made before we were born. Where did you even get this Jem thing from anyway?"

Suddenly Grace's mother came running up the corridor, looking exasperated. "There you are, Grace," she said. "Ah, thank you for stopping her, Jian. I don't think your sister is feeling well."  

"I can tell," Jian said. "She was calling me 'Jem'."

"If you could find your father and get him to call the Silent Brothers, that would be extremely helpful," her mother said.

"Father!?" Grace cried. "Father is alive too?"

"Maybe it's just nerves," Jian said, trying to ignore her but failing. "I mean, it is a big day for her tomorrow."

"What's happening tomorrow?" she asked, almost shouting now. Jian blinked.

"You're getting married, Grace," he said as if stating a fact. "To my parabatai."

"I'm marrying Will!?" she cried. "Why on earth am I marrying Will? You've got to be joking!"

"No!" Jian said. "We don't know anyone called Will, Grace."

"William Herondale," Grace said. "Your parabatai, Jem. How could you not remember Will?! What on Earth is going on?"

"Grace!" her mother shrieked. "The Herondale's have been banished by the Clave. How could you even suggest your brother was the parabatai to one of them?"

"It's all right, mother," Jian said, taking her hand and patting it. "It's just the fever talking, not her." He turned back to Grace. "You're marrying Philip tomorrow, Grace. You know that really."

"Philip Blackthorn?"

"Yes, of course." That was enough. Grace fainted right there and then, falling into her brother's arms.

-*-*-*-*- Jem -*-*-*-*-

Jem escorted Tessa around the Abbey, his hand lightly on her elbow. He'd been taking Tessa out into London a lot recently. There were two reasons for it, if he was honest with himself. The first was because he really liked Tessa. She was so clever and kind and caring. He found himself wanting to be in her company more and more often.

The second was to distract himself from Grace. Jem knew that if he wasn't kept busy, his mind would fall into some dark abyss. He knew that when he wasn't doing anything useful, he was becoming a different person.

It scared him.

He had snapped at Will the other day. It was so full of anger and hate even though Will had done nothing wrong. He never thought he'd do that, but he knew why.

Jem had always accepted that one day, he was going to have to leave Grace and Will. He knew that they would sit by his side and stay with him until the pain stopped. Jem always knew that he was always going to be on that bed. But the roles had been switched. It was now Grace, feverish and delirious, lying on that bed while Jem was forced to watch her in pain. Jem had never prepared for that. He never thought he had to.

"James?" Will said. Jem snapped out of his thoughts.

"Sorry?" He said. Tessa and Will looked at him with worry.

"He asked if you were ready to go in," Tessa said. Jem nodded. Tessa smiled and turned to the opening that Jem had shown her earlier. He was about to follow but Will caught his arm.

"Are you all right?" he asked, muttering into Jem's ear.

"Never better," Jem muttered. He then looked up sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Will. I don't know where that came from."

"It's all right to be angry, Jem," Will said quietly. "You feel as though you failed Grace. I know that because I feel the same."

"I made her a promise, William," Jem said, looking down at the ground. "I promised I'd always be there for her. I promised I'd protect her. It was the last thing my parents asked of me. What kind of brother does that make me?"

"It's not your fault, all right?" Will said, gripping his shoulders. "Don't torture yourself like this, Jem. It won't end well, trust me." Jem was about to ask what he was talking about but Tessa came round the corner.

"Are you two coming?" She asked. "I'd rather not be late to my first Council meeting."

"We're coming, Tessa," Jem said with a smile. She smiled back as Jem took her elbow and guided her to the treasury gate.

***

Jem sat next to Will on the bench, listening to Tessa talk to the Consul and the Inquisitor. She was completely baffling them, he could tell, but they allowed her to sit. Jem moved up for her to sit in between him and Jessamine, ignoring Will's look of confusion.

"Have you tried to Change into Mortmain?" the Inquisitor asked her. "I believe he left a button behind after the attack."

"Yes but it didn't work," Tessa replied. "I need something of substantial belonging; a button simply isn't important enough."

"Convenient," Benedict Lightwood muttered under his breath. Jem balled his hands into fists on his knees but the rest of him looked calm. Will, on the other hand, was literally radiating fury and tension. As the Consul stated his sentence to the Council, Benedict cleared his throat and stood.

"Here we go," Will muttered.

"Quiet," Jem scolded. "You'll get yourself into a world of trouble."

"Consul, I believe that your relationship with the Fairchilds has blinded your ability to issue sentences fairly," Benedict said. "They have completely embarrassed the Clave, not to mention they have lost the Pyxis and have damaged relations with London's Downworlders. Who knows how many more will rise up in anger?"

"Benedict," the Consul said with a warning tone. "I believe your points have already been heard."

"I formally challenge Charlotte Branwell for the position as Head of the London Institute!" Benedict announced. There was a collective gasp as three other members of the Clave stood to show their support. Jem was holding Will by the wrist to make sure he didn't try and jump at Benedict.

"Very well," the Consul finally said after a moment of thought. "Henry and Charlotte Branwell shall have two weeks to find Mortmain, or at least uncover some evidence that points strongly in his direction."

"Two weeks?" Charlotte squeaked. "But Consul-"

"It has been decided," he said. "New servants shall be provided for you and the Silent Brothers and Iron Sisters are at your disposal, of course. Other than that, it is your charge to find Mortmain. I suggest you train your maid and the Downworlder as well, to avoid what happened on July 5th again."

Next to him, Jem felt Tessa tense. "It's all right," he said, patting her hand. "You'll be fine. There's nothing you can't do."

"May I suggest that my two sons, Gabriel and Gideon, be the trainers?" Benedict spoke up.

"There, Charlotte," the Consul said. "Take Benedict's gift as a symbol of peace." Charlotte was bright red in the face but nodded stiffly. "You and your charges are dismissed from this meeting," the Consul continued. Charlotte stood, along with Henry and the rest following. Jem was at the back, keeping an eye on Will who looked like he was going to spring at someone any moment.

They were about to round the corner when the Consul's voice rung out: "And now, we are to discuss the sentence for Grace Carstairs." Jem froze, as did Will, and whipped around.

"What about my sister's sentence?" he said, marching back down past the benches. Everyone gasped in shock and started murmuring.

"Jem!" Will whispered furiously. "Jem, get back here!"

"You should listen to your parabatai, James Carstairs" the Consul said. "You were dismissed from this meeting."

"But it's the fate of my sister you're talking about," Jem said. "I think we all have a right to be here."

"If I thought you had a right to be here, I would have asked you to stay," the Consul said. Jem continued to gaze up at him in fury. It was a battle of wills. Finally Consul Wayland sighed and gestured for him to take a seat.

"We all know of Grace Carstairs condition-" the Consul started before Jem interrupted.

"Curse," he said.

"-however, it has got to a point where action must be taken if the future is to be saved," the Consul continued. "I have arranged for Miss Carstairs to be transported to the Silent City as a precaution while we discuss her sentence."

"The Silent City?" Jem asked. "She's not a criminal. She hasn't done anything wrong at all!"

"Many of us disagree," the Consul said. "She allowed Mortmain to use the demon locked inside of her for whatever he pleased."

"She had no control over that!" Jem shouted. "The medallion forced her or are you too blind to see that? Do you hate her that much?"

"Be careful what you say, Mr Carstairs," the Consul said.

"What's her charge?" Jem demanded. "What's the sentence?"

"She has put the lives of Shadowhunters, Downworlders and mundanes alike in danger," the Inquisitor said. "The punishment for that is usually the marks being stripped off. However, I think we all agree that stripping her marks might release Yanluo and we just can't have that. So, in light of this, we have no choice but to confine her to the Silent City."

"For how long?"

"Until we can work out how to release Yanluo and contain it safely," the Consul said.

"But you'll kill her!"

"Then to ensure that Mortmain cannot use her," the Inquisitor said. "This may be the only solution."

******************************************************************************************