Chapter 20 – Some Ancient Heritage

When I opened my eyes I saw tiny dust particles floating in the air, illuminated by the incoming sunlight. I blinked, then raised my head slightly only to find several figures surrounding me.

My body lay on the floor of a large hall with golden angels on the ceiling. The sight of them made the blood beat faster through my veins. It felt as if just the look of the angels was enough to draw new strength. My lips curled into a smile and my eyes wandered to the people who had gathered around me. Mostly crowded around me. Only now did I wonder why I was even lying on the floor.

I recognized the Inquisitor kneeling on my right, at shoulder height, watching me with unfathomable dark eyes. Individual strands had come loose from her braid and now dangled in tangled curls around her cheeks. It made her look more human. Behind the Inquisitor stood the Consul. His head was bowed and his large hand gripped his arm as if something bothered him.

Maryse crouched to my left and impatiently drummed her fingers on my skin. Like she was waiting for something she was sure was going to happen. Her blue eyes were fixed on me and to my surprise she sighed with relief at my smile. I braced myself with both hands on the cold floor to get up. The muscles in my body seemed to groan with every movement. As if they were in danger of collapsing under my weight.

Maryse leaned towards me and lightly touched my shoulder. I saw her lips move and murmur something at me. But I couldn't hear it, nor could I give her an answer. I turned my head in her direction and widened my eyes for a moment to make sure this was really happening. The image of the petite red-haired woman with eyes that resembled sparkling emeralds faded from my mind and what was left was Maryse's tired face, chapped lips, deep dark circles, wrinkles on her forehead. Did I actually just take her for my mother?

"Are you alright, Clary?" Maryse murmured again, her voice sweet and soft, as if all of this was nothing more than a dark dream I was about to wake up from any second. It really wasn't her fault. I could see that she actually cared about me. And yet her voice brought back the memories of the past hour in full.

I didn't know what to say in reply. What should I have said? No, I am not fine. I'm torn deep inside and everything that happened today, all the pain that was inflicted on me today has only made the hole in my chest bigger. Instead, I pressed my lips together, stretched my back as far as I could, and looked Maryse straight in the eyes. I tried my best to look as confused as possible. "What happened?"

The silence that followed was oppressive and relieving at the same time. Crushing, because I had the opportunity to think more carefully about everything that had just happened. Relief, because it reflected the dissatisfaction of the others. The silence underlined that not everyone in this room agreed with the Inquisitor's ruthless actions.

"You started screaming," Adam suddenly began to speak. He was standing next to Maryse, looking down at me from above, a stony expression on his face. But he didn't avoid my gaze. "The rune on your neck started to glow. Then the rune deformed by itself. Just like that. As if someone had used an invisible stele to write over the ancient rune, changing its meaning." The words flowed out of his mouth so quickly it was as if he couldn't comprehend them himself.

"Which of course is impossible," the Inquisitor interjected sharply, exchanging a look with the Consul. She stood up and took a step back from me, disgust mixed in her eyes with disbelief. As if she couldn't decide what to believe.

"She has provided a plausible explanation, Imogen," the Consul said, dropping his arm. His palm was swollen reddish. I could hear the hiss of his burned skin echoing in my head.

The Inquisitor laughed an angry laugh and her chest heaved in one harsh motion. "There's nothing plausible about that. She's a liar, just like her father." Was she really that sure? Because her voice sounded more distracted than determined.

I thought back to the things that had happened here a few minutes ago. I couldn't help it. The rune's reaction was compulsive, I couldn't have prevented it. As if the reaction was ingrained in me and more of a reflex than a deliberate action. Your rune started to burn and then deformed. What about that could be a considered action? But reactions to a certain stimulus could also be controlled. It might be difficult, but not impossible. You just had to practice.

"Truth and lies or not. This case has the highest priority and requires a detailed explanation from Clarissa. Whatever Valentine did to Jace and Clarissa as babies or before, I need to know and understand. Your father could use you as a weapon," the Inquisitor said, looking at me. "Regardless of whether you actually want it or not."

As her words echoed through my mind, a face flickered in my mind's eye. Jonathan. I had to tell the Inquisitor about their plan. She had to find out what he and Valentine were planning with the Soul Sword. I should have told her about it this morning.

"First of all, Clary needs to rest, Imogen. The poor girl needs rest. Look at her, she's completely drained. You can't jump right back at her. She needs sleep." Maryse's voice came to me from the background, but I couldn't completely tear myself away from the sight of Jonathan in my head. She was right: my limbs ached and my eyes were about to close. I even found it difficult to breathe.

The Consul seemed uninterested in interfering in this discussion. He just followed it with a disinterested look in his eyes. A little too disinterested as one might think. The Inquisitor's reaction was harsh, but I could understand her suspicion. But the Consul didn't strike me as particularly dismissive or even unfriendly in any way, he just behaved aloof.

Magnus also stayed politely in the background. He and Jace were the furthest away from me, which I wasn't surprised about with Jace. Magnus leaned against the dais where the Inquisitor had recently stood and addressed her people. He would not interfere in the affairs of the Nephilim, I was sure of that. He was just here to make sure nothing worse happened to me. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was here in my mother's name.

"This matter concerns my grandson," the Inquisitor retorted so sharply that there was no room for discussion. As if one person was enough to weigh against the life of another. My head swiveled in her direction so quickly I heard a crack in the back of my neck. I had more than enough patience with this woman in the last hour. She had insulted me, tormented me, hit me, and exposed me in front of the entire Shadowhunter community. Enough was enough.

"Shouldn't a leader put the public interest ahead of personal interest?" I retorted with the same sharpness, jumping to my feet. Of course, the Inquisitor immediately recognized what I was trying to do here and gave me a stern look. Jace, who was sitting on the front bench, also had his head cocked in my direction. "All those little things, they matter. But they don't change anything on the whole. We should focus on something far more important: the future. My father owns the Soul Sword. Jonathan told us personally what he intends to do with it. We must stop him before it's too late. He will reverse the sword's power to summon demons."

To my surprise, the Consul began to nod. "This is nothing new. The Council has long since been informed of this," he explained in an almost bored tone. "The Lightwoods and Jace have already made a report following Jonathan's attack on the New York Institute. Valentine's plan was part of the report."

I caught my breath for a moment. Why were they all acting so quiet? Why didn't anyone panic? "And no one did anything," I snapped at him angrily.

"The Council finds it highly unlikely that Valentine will and actually could go that far. It suspects it's nothing more than a threatening gesture." The Consul shrugged calmly and when he finally raised his head in my direction, I saw an amused glint in his eyes. He didn't care. It even seemed to quietly entertain him.

I couldn't believe their stupid arrogance. They would cost us all our lives in their haughty complacency. And they didn't care, because they'd rather die with their heads held high than admit that someone could threaten the Nephilim to the existential limit. "So you're not going to do anything? The whole Shadow World fears my father and has for years. But when it comes to an attack on his part, the Council dismisses it? You underestimate him! Just like you shake your head when you talk about Jonathan and tell yourself he's not a threat!"

I didn't know what I was expecting. Possibly that they finally woke up to my words and really understood the danger we were all in. I was naïve to believe that my words could still make a difference here. The Consul laughed. "The Council sees things differently, Clarissa. I can see that you've only been with us for a short time and have no idea how enduring the Nephilim truly are. Our race has existed for centuries and in that time we have braved far worse," he purred in a godlike tone. His lips curled into a greasy smile. "The Council knows what is right for our fellowship. So you don't have to worry about us or question our judgment. Here, a higher authority takes care of the safety of the Nephilim." The Council would probably only admit defeat if Valentine invaded the city with his army of demons. Probably not even then.

An astonished snort escaped me, and I made an unexpected leap towards the Consul. It was like my whole body was electrified and for a split second I feared I had lost control of my actions. The Consul, who had probably not forgotten my superhuman behavior, seemed to share this concern. Because the smile faded from his face and I could see his back muscles tighten.

"It's amazing how short-sighted you guys are," I hissed out through tightened lips. My eyes wandered to Magnus, who had meanwhile approached the scene curiously. Our eyes met and I saw the regret in his cat-like eyes. He shrugged his shoulders almost sadly. What was he supposed to say to that? He was a Downworlder, and as far as I knew, the Nephilim didn't care much about the opinions of Downworlders. Not that I was raised any differently. But I made an effort to look at everything from a more neutral point of view, which was by no means easy for me. But right now, the Council's hostility struck me as wrong. This was wrong.

I stared past Magnus in confusion for a moment, trying to organize my thoughts, which seemed to be running a marathon in my head. "My father was right," I whispered softly. My voice trembled with anger. "The Council is blinded and misguided. So confident in yourself that Valentine could be at the gates of the city with his entire army and you would still downplay the danger."

"There it is," the Inquisitor called smugly, holding out her hand accusingly in my direction. A cold, twisted smile crept onto her face. She looked like an old woman who would lose her mind at any second, standing there in front of me with her tousled hair and blank stare in her bright eyes. "She's obsessed with her father."

I shook my head angrily. "No, I'm not," I replied, not downplaying the hostility in my tone. "Only unlike you, am I able to see the truth and accept it as truth. The Council is obviously not in the constitution to do that."

"How dare she even speak to me in such a disrespectful tone? I'm the Inquisitor!" For a moment I feared she was going to hit me again. Of course, she wouldn't catch me this time, and yet I didn't want to find myself in such a situation a second time. The Consul had taken a few steps forward and was now standing right next to the Inquisitor. Only Maryse separated them from me. The look in Maryse's eyes told me she was noticing the exact same thing.

"All the Shadowhunters I've encountered embody the image of an arrogant and lazy society," I managed, not paying the slightest attention to the Inquisitor. "Every Shadowhunter I've met considers their own blood, their own race, to be chosen by the Archangel himself. But no one here acts even remotely like the chosen warriors we're meant to be. Everyone thinks only of themselves. The Nephilim are resting on an outdated worldview. They are resting on an inheritance from which they move away a little bit further with every careless gesture. And unless something changes drastically, it will be easy for Valentine to take over this world."

The words left my mouth before I realized what I was actually saying. I paused and stared at the Inquisitor's face. But I didn't see her. I saw my father. Without really noticing it, the last thread that still bound me to him vanished into thin air. Because just a few seconds earlier I had given away everything he stood for. I had betrayed everything he wanted to make of this world. A strong, overpowering race of Nephilim with no place for Downworlders. My father knew that the Nephilim were arrogant and ruthless and he had criticized it for years. Only he wanted to use this arrogance himself to cleanse this world of the Shadowworlders.

The others stared at me in silence. Even Jace's gaze was fixed on me, an undefinable look in his eyes. I didn't know what it meant. All I knew was that it wasn't as bad as the looks he'd been giving me until now. Could it be that he was actually thinking about my words?

A genuine smile had spread across Magnus's face alone. His white teeth flashed in the sunlight and he narrowed his eyes in good humor. By speaking out against my father, I guess I automatically sided with the Downworlders. I didn't know what to think of it. But when I thought about it, I realized that Magnus and Luke were the only people who had actually been honest and sincere. And both were Shadowworlders. They couldn't be as bad as everyone here said they were.

The eyes of the others were still on me. They gaped at me like I was Raziel himself, who had just given them a message from heaven. Their feigned ignorance made me sick. I stormed past them indignantly. "And now I want to rest for a few hours."

I could hear the Consul's murmurs as I climbed the steps of the hall. "Someone should moderate her loose mouth."

-

Hello again my friends! 

Clary can't close her big mouth once again haha. Someone has to tell facts to the Clave. xD Keep in mind to check out my Pinterest if you're interested in the looks of my characters in this story! 

See you soon,

Skyllen :)