Chapter 17 - Under Surveillance

I jumped up with a start. The blood was pounding loudly in my ears and my vision blurred for a moment as I tried to sit up. My hands gripped the tight hem of the bed covers and I lifted my head to take in the room.

There was an impatient knock from the door, and someone called my name. For a split second I wondered if that was the throbbing that had just gone through my bones. Before calling the person behind the door in, I looked down at myself to make sure everything was still in place. The dream had left me with a terrible sense of unawareness, and my body felt completely different than usual.

Since I was only scantily clad, I pulled the covers up to my chin and then called "Come in" to finally stop the goddamn knocking. Not a second later the door was flung open, and Isabelle stuck her head through the frame. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight braid and her dark eyes sparkled with irritation. But when she saw me lying in bed, a touch of surprise crossed her face.

"Clary- I didn't know you were asleep. Sorry. In any case, I'm supposed to let you know that the Inquisitor wants you for questioning. They're expecting you downstairs, so hurry up," she said hastily, and not a moment later pulled the door shut again. I had just opened my mouth to reply and now closed it again with a sigh.

Tired, I let myself sink back into the pillows. I wasn't sure how long I had slept, but I didn't feel the least bit recovered. If not even more exhausted than before. I stared sadly at the ceiling, wondering how long I would have to lie here before the guards would burst into my room and drag me to the Gard in my underwear. I didn't want to take a chance.

I sat up in bed a second time, but this time overcame the urge to lie down again. In one awkward movement, I swung my legs out of the soft blankets. I dug my toes into the floor and let them brush the carpet, then slowly got to my feet.

With great displeasure, I stared at the white dress which lay crumpled in my bag. Either the dress or my Shadowhunter outfit, I had no other choice. Of course, I had more clothes with me, not much more, but something. However, they were more casual wear and none of them suited my current situation. Finally I decided on the dress. While it wrinkled and didn't smell as nice as it did the first day I wore it, I had hope that the Council members might not be entirely negative about it. White spoke for sadness and if they saw my sadness, they might remember that I was just a Shadowhunter too. A recently-come-of-age Shadowhunter.

oOo

Down the hall, two Shadowhunters were waiting, clad in riot gear with a black winter cloak over them. It were the two who had followed me and Luke all the way here, it had to be them. However, I hadn't been able to see their faces then, but they wore the same clothes and the build also matched.

When they saw me coming down the stairs, they straightened up. The hand of the guard on the right, clad in a thick black leather glove, slid to the hilt of his sword. I immediately stopped dead on the landing and stared at his hand with deliberate conspicuity. The guard raised his bright green eyes and his dark brows narrowed in a cold grimace.

I didn't move an inch and mimicked his gaze. My advantage was that they didn't know how strong I was. The Inquisitor had said it herself: They didn't know what my father had trained us to do, what skills we actually possessed. And it was this unawareness that the Shadowhunters feared. They feared things they couldn't control.

The guard was about to open his mouth when his neighbor forestalled him. He lifted his right arm and put it in front of his colleague's chest as if he could hold him back that way. Only now that I was paying attention to the other Shadowhunter did I notice their resemblance. Both had the same dark hair and light green eyes. "Miss Morgenstern," the one on the left began to speak with an American accent. "My name's Malik, this," he pointed to the man next to him, "is my brother Kadir. We've been commissioned by the Inquisitor to escort you to the Gard."

I took a closer look at Malik for a moment. He also wore a seraph blade on his belt, and I was sure they were both armed to the teeth. But he seemed completely calm, his shoulders weren't straight, his pulse was steady, and his muscles weren't tense. Quite the opposite of his brother. Kadir was a tiny bit shorter than Malik and had a rounder face. They might have looked even more alike if Kadir's features didn't betray an undisguised distrust.

I nodded and buttoned my own winter coat as I approached them both. "My pleasure," I replied after I had closed my coat and lifted my head. Of course, we all knew I wasn't pleased at all. But if I had to spend more time with them in the future, I could do so in a neutral atmosphere.

Maryse's voice came from the living room. The sound of boots heralded her, and moments later she and Isabelle appeared in the doorway to the hallway. They, too, had put on their cloaks, but not locked them yet. Maryse and Isabelle were all dressed up as if they were attending an important event. Their hair was pulled back in fine braids, their boots had heels and had been polished. The Shadowhunters' emblem, in the form of a small gold pin, was emblazoned over their hearts.

Maryse gave me a formal smile when she saw me. "I'm glad you're finally awake. I heard Isabelle had trouble waking you up," she said almost casually as she buttoned her coat.

I shrugged, even though I knew Maryse couldn't see it. "I needed some rest. Still, I feel like I haven't slept for nights."

Standing diagonally behind her mother, Isabelle regarded me blankly. "I think that's normal considering what happened," she mused, seemingly from afar. "The more time passes, the better you'll be."

I fixed my eyes on Isabelle as if I had seen a ghost. Isabelle had never been really friendly to me before and those words seemed to be the first halfway nice thing she had said to me so far. I thought back to our conversation in the kitchen a few hours ago. She met my gaze for a split second, then averted it. Her face showed no emotion. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyes seemed undifferentiated.

My eyes traveled down her body and her polished appearance caught my eye again. Suddenly I wondered what they had dressed up for in the first place. I raised my head in a hasty movement and I was sure I heard Kadir twitch uncertainly behind me. "Where are you going anyway?"

Isabelle turned her face back towards me and she had her eyebrows raised as if I had missed something obvious. "We're going to the Gard," she replied in an almost amused tone. "Where do you think you are going?"

She gave me an amused look, which I could only return in confusion. "To the Gard? My interrogation will be held shortly. I thought ... will it be held in public?" The panic in my voice was unmistakable.

The amusement faded from Isabelle's eyes, and she leaned against the wall by the stairs. "You didn't know that? They'll question you at a Council meeting, all of Alicante will be there."

I stared at her in bewilderment. "Nobody told me that. It's going to be a disaster, she- I wouldn't be surprised if they just killed me there!"

"We're not barbarians," Kadir snorted behind me in disgust. "I don't know what Valentin drummed into you, but we have laws that must be obeyed. We're not lawless like your father."

I spun around angrily and took a step towards him. With a jerky movement, he ripped the seraph blade from his belt and aimed it straight at me before Malik could grab his arm. "I know very well there are laws here," I hissed. "But what should stop the Council from punishing me for what my father did? They could kill me. They have the right to do so if they see me as a threat to the well-being of the Shadowhunter community!"

Malik smacked the hilt of Kadir's blade with the palm of his hand. "Enough," he said gruffly. "Kadir, put that away immediately. And you," his eyes wandered to me, irritated. "Come on now, we're taking way too long anyway." He motioned me out the door.

I clenched my teeth angrily and weaved past Malik to the door, not even looking at the others. I trotted absently down the steps to the iron gate. I couldn't stop thinking about Jonathan. I was barely out of childhood, just eighteen and yet I felt years older. Just as Jonathan had seemed so much older to me the last time we saw him.

Malik and Kadir escorted me through the streets of Alicante. With every step I took on the cobblestones, I had to be careful not to slip on a slippery spot. The cold wind had stopped, and the sun was gradually melting the snow. I felt cold dew dripping down my hair and neck as we passed the shops of a main thoroughfare.

Malik walked in front of me while Kadir brought up the rear, making sure I didn't accidentally take a wrong turn. I could literally feel his eyes on my back, and it was driving me insane. He could ram a dagger between my ribs at any second and I might not find out until it was too late. I would have felt a lot safer if he had walked in front of me, where I could follow his every step and see every tiny movement. I realized with a sigh that he probably thought the same thing about me.

The city seemed almost deserted. We hardly encountered any other Nephilim, they must all have made their way to the Gard by now. It was almost eerie to see Alicante so deserted. I immediately had to think of New York, the huge crowds of people who went about their business there every day. It would never seem deserted at any time of the day, no event would keep people in their homes or compel them all to gather in one place. Not even war.

After half an hour's march through icy roads and up the hill, we finally reached the Gard. It was surrounded by a small moss-covered wall, and sturdy trees lined the path from the foot of the hill up to the gates, which were now wide open and Shadowhunters swarmed within.

As we approached the entrance, Malik gradually slowed and gave us a quick look over his shoulder. Neither of them had spoken a word the whole way. Malik had walked straight the whole time and hadn't even turned to look at us. I felt uncomfortable in their presence. They made me nervous with their strict manners, perpetual silence, and the few human emotions they elicited. Both of them, but especially Malik, seemed more like machines than living beings. As we walked, I had envisioned the Inquisitor giving them orders and the two carrying them out without hesitation. Without thinking again. Without questioning anything.

Valentin had taught me to question orders. Though I didn't think I'd ever questioned his. If you have been raised according to a certain belief all your life, you will hardly doubt your own belief later on.

"Hey," Kadir called out to me at that moment and grabbed my arm. Startled, I looked up and saw that Malik had already disappeared into the crowd. All I could see was his dark hair disappearing into the masses. Kadir stood in front of me, and his bright eyes fixed me angrily. He could be a handsome man, I thought to myself as I looked at him. However destroyed by the always grim expression on his face. The next moment I was surprised that I was even concerned about his appearance.

Kadir pushed me through the throng of Nephilims, as if afraid of losing me in the crowd. He needn't have bothered, because as soon as the Shadowhunters recognized me, they automatically backed off a few meters. While everyone had been talking to each other a few seconds before, every single voice was now silent. One could literally feel the tension building in the hallway. One could have cut it with a knife.

Their sudden silence and evasion had unsettled me, and I stopped in the frame of the double doors. I could feel Kadir's hand on my shoulder, squeezing it, commanding me to move again. With slow steps, I moved between the Shadowhunters. They stared at me with dark eyes, most of their faces were in the shadows of the elven lights, but I could still see their angry but sometimes astonished facial expressions. The worst part was the looks they gave me. I didn't know what my father would have done, but I took the time to look into many faces and read the different emotions in their eyes. Fury. Mistrust. Disappointment. Surprise. Fear. Pain.

The heart in my chest was racing. I felt like an animal being led to the slaughterhouse. I thought about my mother's stories when we were younger. Once a week we were delivered with groceries by an unknown man. We had grown most of the plants ourselves, but we had always bought potatoes, bread and meat from this one man over the years. He had always delivered the meat in one piece, mostly lamb, but sometimes a piglet.

When I was very young, maybe four or five, I had first asked my mother why we ate animals at all. Little had I known that they were bred for their meat, held captive and killed against their will. As silly as it sounded, I had assumed animals had choices in lives just like we did. My mother had then told me the truth. She had said that animals would not willingly give their lives to feed us. That they were forced to. While most animals had no real sense of what was going on in their lives and showed no reaction when led to the slaughterhouse, pigs were very different. Pigs would cry, squeaking and screaming because for some reason they knew what was going to happen. It had taken my parents three years before I ate meat again. I didn't care now because I understood the cycle of life. The world was made of violence and if you didn't commit violence, you would become its victim yourself.

Eventually I turned my gaze away from the many faces and fixed it on Malik's back. I followed him with quick steps until he stopped in front of another set of double doors. I already knew this part of the Gard. I had walked these hallways with the Inquisitor.

Behind the doors was a large square room. Three of the four walls were lined with dozens of benches, row upon row, reminiscent of a lecture hall. The rows of seats were laid out steeply so that each row had an equal view of the hall. Between the benches, a flight of stairs led down to a wooden dais. Behind it, on the wall opposite us, were two large seats made of the finest black precious wood. Runes had been carved into the wood and coated in gold paint. They reminded me of two thrones. Further in the center of the room was a single bench, directly to the right of the podium. I knew immediately that in a few minutes I would be sitting right there.

The hall was flooded with Nephilim. They squeezed into the few remaining free seats on the benches and those who couldn't get a seat sat down on the steps. Unlike before, the hall did not fall silent when I entered it. It was too big and there were too many Shadowhunters in the room. I felt many of their eyes on me as I followed Malik down the stairs, but they kept talking. Only those closest to me fell silent as I passed them.

Arriving at the foot of the hall, I recognized the Inquisitor deep in conversation with a man. When she finally noticed me, she raised her hand and they both turned to me. Malik bowed his head and stopped in front of the two. "Inquisitor. Consul."

"Clarissa," the Inquisitor said hoarsely. "Your punctuality leaves a lot to be desired. Look around, almost all of the Nephilim have already gathered."

"You didn't tell me this was going to be a public event," I objected, more sharply than I intended. My eyes fell on the man next to her. The Consul, my father had also drummed his name into my head. Malachi Dieudonné. He was tall and slim with short black hair. His features were stern and there was something eager in his eyes as he looked at me. A smile formed on his lips, raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

"Well, my dear. That's not the way to talk to the Inquisitor," he reprimanded in a serious tone and the smile faded from his face. The cold expression made him look almost menacing. "I'm Malachi Dieudonné, the Consul of the Nephilim. The Inquisitor may condone your behavior towards her, but if you ever adopt such a tone towards me or behave in any way other than the daughter of a traitor, I shall have to punish you."

I stared at him wide-eyed and didn't dare to even get a word out of my mouth. However, I was already aware of one thing: If we had met outside of Alicante, I would have killed for that threat. If my life didn't depend on my current behavior, I would have risked crossing his boundary. "You have to know, I hate doing this, of course, but sometimes I have no choice." His staring gray eyes fixed me in an oddly curious way, unlike the other Nephilim's gazes. Malachi eyed me as if he had a fixed idea of me, which he was now trying to confirm with my appearance.

Noticing my gaze, the Consul turned his head away. "Shall we begin now?" His words were dedicated to the Inquisitor. Their eyes met for a moment, and it seemed they communicated without words. Then the Inquisitor turned back to me and nodded.

-

Hi and welcome back!

What do you think about this chapter? Please let me know, I'd be very happy about it. I'm writing two exams this week so I'm a little demotivated lol. Wish me luck! :D

See you soon

Skyllen :)