Chapter 23 – Discovered

The more I read, the clearer it became to me what my father must have been thinking during his experiment. He must have concluded that having more angelic blood in the body meant more strength and power. The Shadowhunter Codex described Jonathan Shadowhunter as the most powerful Shadowhunter ever. Whether that was because he was the first to drink from the mortal cup or whether it was for other reasons; to date there has been no clear answer to this.

I still hadn't found an answer to my question about the runes. Jace had been right, the rune wasn't from the Gray Book. I'd searched it over and over, but found not even a hint of a similar rune. I sat at the small round table, hunched over another rune-themed book. There had to be a clue somewhere. Even if it was so small. I flipped to the next page and stifled a sigh of frustration.

"Clary." I was so startled at the sound of the voice in the dark that I banged my knee against the table.

"By the angel," I whispered, spinning around in one quick movement. I peered into the darkness and saw a figure walking towards me. Then Jace stepped into the white light of the witchlight. I froze instantly. His features seemed even harder than usual in the dim light, and his golden eyes seemed ready to tear me to pieces.

"I guess I just caught you breaking the rules," he said calmly, his eyes wandering to the books scattered across the table. Most of them were opened on very specific pages where I had found something supposedly important.

"I- I'm just doing research, that's nothing bad," I tried to explain to him, even though I knew it was pointless to argue with him. "Listen to me, I found out a lot of things and I think I know why my father put us through this experiment. I could find out more about the actual effects if you'd just let me."

Jace didn't respond to my words. Instead, he gave me a dark look. His voice lacked any emotion. "I just caught you breaking the rules," he repeated simply, without moving from the spot. His eyes continued to fix me. But his inaction could also be interpreted as hesitation.

"Here, look for yourself," I demanded hastily before he could move a step. I noticed myself how pleading my voice sounded and I had to force myself to not snap at him angrily. Morgensterns did not plead. They didn't ask. They gave orders. Although, considering your father, it wouldn't be wise to say that out loud.

"Jonathan Shadowhunter also had dreams similar to mine, only more powerful. Raziel sent them to him, that's how they communicated," I told him, holding up the Shadowhunter Codex. "It's even written in the Code. Still, I have no explanation for the rune he showed me. It's not in the Gray Book. There is not a single clue as to what it could mean."

"Him?" was the only thing Jace asked, staring at me with a look I couldn't read. From all the information I had given him, he just had to hang himself on this. Of course I knew immediately why.

"Ithuriel," I replied curtly, waiting for his disapproving reaction.

Jace snorted and shook his head, causing his blond hair to ruffle. In fact, he was quite handsome: Well built, deep golden eyes, almost silken hair with narrow and angular features. Every move he made was so fluid that I wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if he was so graceful by nature. But his negative charisma, his unfriendly and dismissive behavior ruined all that. He didn't look much different from Jonathan, who was no less provoked by anger. Except that Jace was also driven by his pain, unlike Jonathan.

"The likelihood that I'd believe you doesn't get any better with every time you say things like that," Jace remarked flatly, walking towards me. His gaze roamed over the books lying on the table. I wondered if he was actually scanning them or just pretending.

Just like in his room a few hours ago, I just shrugged again. I wouldn't let his comments goad me anymore. It was no use anyway. Instead I kept talking. "The part about the rune is irrelevant anyway, because I don't know if it really works. I'll have to test it first."

"And how exactly do you intend to do this?" he asked, raising his right hand. He ran his fingers over the open pages of the Shadowhunter Codex. They slid down the lines and it seemed to me that he was actually reading the sentences. Like he's really trying to understand. Where his fingers touched the old paper, small haze formed around his crests.

Again, I knew what he was getting at. I didn't have a stele. Someone would have to give me one before I could try the rune. And he certainly wouldn't do it. Spontaneously I could only think of one person who might help me. Adam. But I didn't say his name out loud. Jace might have had a guess as to who I would approach first, but I wouldn't take any unnecessary chances. If there was a chance Adam would help me, I certainly wouldn't jeopardize that chance just to play a perceived trump card in front of Jace Herondale.

So I shrugged again. "We'll see about that then," I replied in as neutral a tone as possible, squinting at Jace. What was he doing there anyway? He had made it abundantly clear that he didn't believe my words. And yet he was bent over my books now. "For the fact that I only tell lies, you seem very interested."

It didn't take more for him to start up from the books and fix me with a scowl. The gold in his eyes seemed so cold it made me shiver. "I still don't believe you," he stated flatly, slamming the Codex shut with a dull thud. Tiny dust particles whirled up, which seemed to dance through the air in strange movements in the light of the witchlight.

Jace then forced me to put all the books back in their old places. I tried to give him more explanations but he stopped listening and when I didn't move an inch he finally put them all back himself. With my arms crossed in front of my chest, I threw him an angry look, which he skillfully ignored. Again I felt the need to hit him. The blood in my veins boiled and I felt anger slowly but surely overcoming me. Show the Lightwoods who you really are, and they will support you. How was I supposed to do that when Jace kept putting new obstacles in my way?

"We're going back to the Lightwood manor," Jace said in a firm voice that didn't allow for discussion.

The way back seemed a lot longer than the way here, which was probably because we walked the streets and didn't jump over the roofs. We were both silent, which suited me just fine. Even if he had said something, I certainly wouldn't have answered. But Jace hadn't been keen on exchanging more words with me than necessary from the start. It only made the anger boil inside me more.

When we got to the Lightwoods' home, Jace raised his hand toward his window and gestured for me to go ahead. I gave him one last sparkling look, then turned away from him and climbed up the front of the house as gracefully as I could. While there was little room for my feet to gain traction, I didn't care. I wouldn't fall, not in front of Jace. My fingers groped for hold on his smooth windowsill and a second later I was swinging through his window in one feathery motion. As quietly as I could without an inaudibility rune, I landed on the hardwood floor in Jace's room.

I was getting up from my crouch when Jace jumped through the window behind me. I watched him for a moment. His demeanor didn't seem arrogant like before. Something had changed in his attitude, but as it seemed to me, it had only gotten worse. Jace sat up and met my eyes directly for the first time. There wasn't even a hint of emotion in his bright eyes.

My face froze into an impenetrable mask. I regarded him for another moment and then snorted in his direction. "Instead of trying to figure out the system, you're just your grandmother's pathetic footman. But unlike you, she is entitled to her opinion."

I turned on my heel and left him in his room. Imogen Herondale had seen my father. She knew what he was capable of. She had witnessed the death of her son. The death of a loved one was an ordeal that would probably drag one into a hole of despair, heartache and pain for years to come. The Inquisitor had every right to hate my father and fear me. But Jace had grown up without parents, he had lived life without them from the start. Even if he felt the loss in his chest every day. Especially in the moments when he looked up at Maryse and realized deep down that she could still love him so much and still never be his real mother. Even in those moments, that feeling was hardly comparable to the actual loss of someone you knew, loved, and shared a part of your life with. Jace followed his grandmother's words because it was so much easier than facing the truth.

I would prove to him that I was right. I would prove to him that the rune actually worked.

oOo

When Isabelle rudely woke me up the next morning, I really became aware of the nightly hours in the library. Opening my eyes was agony. I could feel sleep tugging at my limbs and tried to push myself into the pillows. But Isabelle's calls were loud and penetrating, one couldn't ignore them. I made a noise, a mixture of an annoyed snort and a tired sigh, and Isabelle fell silent. I heard her footsteps on the wooden floor of the hallway as she moved away from my door.

She gave me an almost amused look as I stood in the kitchen a few minutes later. "You look horrible," she said with no dislike in her voice, even if her words didn't exactly speak of affection.

Unlike Jace, she seemed resigned to the fact that I lived under the same roof with her. The suspicious looks she'd been giving me a short while ago were gone. At moments when she felt unobserved, I could feel her curious eyes on my back. She was still wary, which I couldn't blame her for, and yet it was possible to exchange friendly words with her. Even if these were never of deeper importance. It would be a while before we would possibly cross another frontier. It also depended on how my relationships with the others would develop. I barely saw Alec and Jace ... Jace was another story.

I sighed and rubbed my temples. My limbs ached. The journey across the rooftops must have really taxed my body. I had never realized how dependent I was on runes. The fact that they wouldn't let me have a stele only made the situation more uncomfortable. I wasn't used to it. I needed my runes to be boosted on a regular basis, just like any other Shadowhunter. I could feel that I was tiring more quickly. My mind couldn't calm down. My movements became less precise and my concentration worse.

"That's how I feel," I murmured, and only now, a full minute later, did I notice Jace sitting at the kitchen table, looking as flawless and graceful as ever. Inwardly I cursed him for it.

"Meeting the Inquisitor won't help much there," Isabelle said half-jokingly, half-seriously. Her black hair fell slickly over her shoulders as she took a long sip from a worn mug. She was wearing a red shearling sweater and matching sweatpants. If I hadn't been so incredibly tired, I might have smiled at her outfit. But the thought of being in the same room with Jace and the Inquisitor depressed me enough to just roll my eyes hard.

Jace and I didn't speak as we made our way to the Gard shortly after. Although we were both wearing long coats to protect ourselves from the freezing wind that had been sweeping the streets of Alicante since this morning, I could see his hands clenching into fists the entire way. At the highest point of the hill in front of the Gard, just a few yards from its great double doors, stood Malik and Kadir. They received us with grim faces and then led us to the office of the Inquisitor, who, like the Consul, had her official residence here.

Kadir was a lot more in control than yesterday. He was as taciturn as his brother and never gave me one of his suspicious looks. Just his hand resting on the hilt of his golden sword was a sign of his caution. They finally left us in front of the doors of her office and then disappeared without saying a single word. A strange atmosphere lay over the whole scene. It was crushing and didn't get any better when the two warriors left us alone in the hallway.

I leaned slightly against the cold wall of colorless rock and looked at an oil painting that hung on the opposite wall. It showed a desolate battlefield filled with demons, with a small band of Nephilim in their midst. Their seraph blades flashed in contrast to the slimy creatures' dark bodies. The Nephilim were surrounded and greatly outnumbered. A huge angel hovered over the scene with outstretched hands. His white wings stretched across the entire night sky of the painting, eclipsing the stars. No matter how lost a battle seems, the Archangels will always watch over you.

I wondered if this applied to me too. Whether the Archangels had predetermined a specific destiny for me too, or whether they didn't care because my father had done all those terrible things. I wondered if Raziel thought the same way as the Nephilim community, or if he saw me as one of his children as well.

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I hope you like the new chapter. What do you think of Jace's behavior after his dream? What do you imagine the next meeting with the Inquisitor to be like? The last one wasn't too good for Clary ...

See you,

Skyllen :)