Chapter 28 – Blizzard

Had I behaved correctly towards Adam? Under the haze of anger clouding my brain, I wasn't quite sure. But it had been cowardly to withhold such news from me. No matter how bad I was.

For a few seconds I stared at where Adam had just been standing. I pressed my lips together and listened with bated breath. A soft squeak came from outside and I knew he was closing the front yard door behind him. Only then could I let the air out of my lungs. A deep, weary sigh escaped me.

I was already turning to leave when I noticed the light in the living room. My stomach immediately became heavy. Surely whoever was there had heard every word of our argument. I hesitated for a moment, but then slowly moved toward the light. My face instantly froze into a numb mask.

Jace and Isabelle were sitting on the small sofa in the left corner of the room, both with a book in their hands. Behind them one could see out into the garden of the estate. It looked seamlessly groomed beneath the white layers of snow that transformed it into a landscape straight out of a fairy tale. Maryse was sitting at the long glass table with the blue map imprinted on it. In front of her was a pile of documents and the disarray of the papers made it seem like she was extremely busy.

My entry had snapped her out of her work, for there was a strained look in her eyes as she looked up. I was sure that she was only trying to hide her true feelings under the pretense of her job. There was no way she hadn't heard my words earlier.

Jace, on the other hand, didn't look up when I walked in. His eyes were pointedly fixed on the pages of his book, and he pretended very much, as always, that I didn't exist. Isabelle, on the other hand, looked up but only glanced at me briefly and then avoided my gaze.

For what felt like an infinitely long time, nothing happened. No one dared break the silence. I just stood there rooted to the spot and didn't even know anymore why I had entered the living room in the first place. The forthcoming conversation would certainly not improve my mood.

The expression in Maryse's eyes changed for a second. A sort of regret crossed her face. "I voted for a proper funeral," she finally managed to say.

Was that what I wanted to hear? Had the look in my eyes been so demanding that Maryse felt she owed me an answer regarding that? I didn't know it. I didn't know what to do with her words.

I nodded absently and finally found my mind slipping into a kind of trance. My environment lost color and contour. It all suddenly seemed very far away. The blood pounded in my ears. For some reason I couldn't explain, I lowered my head and stared down at my body. I was still wearing the outfit from the day before. Nobody had taken it off me, for which I was grateful.

After another eternity, I found my voice again. It sounded insipid and, to my negative surprise, frighteningly fragile. "Is there anything that can be done about the Clave's decision?" I asked Maryse.

Her sigh was actually answer enough. Still, she seemed to find it necessary to explain herself. "Your family has fallen out of favor with the Clave," she said in a neutral tone. "The Nephilim are too afraid of Valentine to understand your situation. They would rather destroy everything that belongs to him. Just to make sure."

Your situation. Did she mean my mother too? I remained silent and couldn't help but think of my father. He would be furious when he learned of the Clave's decision. They would take all honor away from Jocelyn. In doing so, the Clave also soiled him, that was its real intention. The Clave didn't care about my mother in the first place.

"She didn't deserve such a disgrace," I replied in a somber but firm tone.

Almost automatically, an emotionless veil came over Maryse's eyes. "Jocelyn was by your father's side all these years. She supported him without committing any crimes herself."

"Nevertheless, it is thanks to my mother that the Downworlders were warned when the treaty was signed and that there was no massacre," I ground out through clenched teeth. A massacre in which both Maryse and Robert Lightwood wanted to take part.

Maryse fell silent and avoided my gaze. She was aware of my unspoken words with great certainty.

With my words echoing around the room, I turned on my heel and stormed up to my own room. With unnerving brutality, I ripped off my clothes and stood in the shower. But despite the freezing water and the tremors in my body, I couldn't shake the pain. As my joints went numb, the pain in my chest pounded even harder than before.

Someone had washed my white dress. For a split second I debated whether or not to wear it. Finally, I decided to do it. I combed my hair, but this time let it flow down my shoulders in strands of red. Then I left my room and silently crept to the back door to go outside to the stables.

The Lightwood stables bordered the large garden on the right and consisted of a small stone building with large wooden double doors. They weren't locked. I would have been surprised if they had been. Without hesitation, I entered the stables and saddled the first and only horse that was in one of the stalls. At any other time, I would have wondered why such a large complex was needed for a single animal.

A wide path led to a garden gate from which one could leave the Lightwoods' property without having to use the front door. As I led the horse to the front street, I looked at the guard who stood on the left side of the street in front of the house and was supposed to watch over my comings and goings. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead. Escape on horseback probably never occurred to her. I took the opportunity and steered the horse to the left to avoid the guard.

The wind in my hair was icy. It had started to snow as we passed the city limits, and the cold flakes hit me relentlessly in the face as I galloped down the white, barely recognizable path that led out of Alicante. But the cold helped to clear my head and finally to think clearly.

The Cemetery of the Disgraced was below Alicante's knoll and I stopped at the edge of the hill to look down. A stone wall encircled it and all the dark granite tombstones with only a few words, probably a name and date of birth, carved on them. A gate led into the cemetery, and you could see a trampled path that ran through the entire complex. This place seemed deserted, forgotten and soulless. A dark feeling came over me.

It was only when I looked more closely that I recognized the bright outline of a person who was barely distinguishable from the surrounding snow. My horse whinnied and the figure turned so I could see its face.

It was Luke. He was standing just inside the gate and his figure was draped in a light gray cloak that even covered his head. He must have recognized me, too, because after a moment's deliberation, he slowly approached me.

I dismounted from the horse in one quick movement and left it on the rise as I came towards him.

Luke was amazed to see me. Probably mainly because I was alone here. But he didn't admonish me. The laws of the Shadowhunters didn't seem to bother him anymore. "You're just in time," he said without greeting me.

Together we went through the gate and trudged through the centimeter deep snow. I was glad Luke came. It convinced me of the sincerity of what he said a few days ago. Even so, his presence didn't prevent the lump in my throat as we stopped in front of her tombstone.

Her name had been carved into the granite slab. Jocelyn Fairchild. I wasn't quite sure what to make of the fact that our family's name, Morgenstern, was nowhere to be read. Had it been a conscious order from the Clave to minimize memories of Valentine?

At that moment, I suddenly wondered if he was here, watching. I immediately raised my head and stared searchingly at the wasteland that loomed behind the cemetery. The snowstorm turned everything around us into a white landscape. I couldn't see ten meters away. The unnerving feeling of being watched made my heart beat faster.

But then the Silent Brothers emerged from the shadows of the graveyard, a corpse in their midst, and my thoughts of him were forgotten. Though her body was covered with a white sheet, memories of her dead body flooded my mind. I had to clench my fists to keep from shaking or screaming in anger.

The ceremony was short. As in the human world, her body was lowered into a previously dug hole and then filled up. Cold, wet earth buried my mother, and I turned my head away from imagining anything worse. They did not set fire to her body. There was no greater catastrophe for the family. I would not see my mother again after death. I would never be with her again.

With every second that passed, it became more and more clear to me that I was finally alone. It was a frightening emptiness.

At some point, I didn't know how long we had been standing silently at the locked grave, Luke finally said goodbye. As he walked, he squeezed my shoulder, but I hardly felt it. I didn't move an inch and just stood there while the wind ruffled my hair and the snow fell on me.

I had tears in my eyes. Now that I was finally alone, there was no reason to hold them back. An unbelievable anger gripped me, but it was drowned out by the emptiness in my body. My legs buckled under me, and I fell to my knees. The snow ate through my coat, and it wasn't long before I sat there, frozen to the bone, unable to tell if I'd be able to get up again.

A loud, continuous thunder brought me back to the present. I slowly turned my head in the direction of the gate and saw a large black shape coming towards me at breakneck speed. It was the Lightwoods' horse I stole a few hours ago and someone was sitting on its back. The person's face was in the shadows of a thick, dark winter coat. The horse galloped through the gate, hooves ringing, and then stopped a few yards from me.

"What are you doing?" a familiar voice called out through the roar of the wind. It was Jace. In one elegant movement he jumped off the horse's back and stomped towards me with almost frantic steps.

The sight of him froze my already stiff limbs even further. My eyes followed him as he crossed the distance between us. It wasn't until he was standing right in front of me that I recognized the gold-blonde strands of his hair under the hood and his typical, overbearing posture. But the look on his face was anything but arrogant. Genuine concern burned in his eyes for a split second, but he let it disappear behind his emotionless mask as quickly as it came.

For a moment Jace seemed unsure what to do with me. I caught my sight in the reflection of his eyes and quickly turned my head away. Then he surprised us both by grabbing my upper arm and hauling me to my feet with little effort.

My muscles trembled from the exertion and for a moment I feared falling back into the cold snow. Jace pulled my left arm over his shoulders and supported me as the ice fell off my body and my legs began to move. The next moment I leaned against the horse and felt its warmth slowly penetrate my jacket.

"You're crazy going out like that," Jace hissed angrily while looking me up and down. All I wore under my jacket was the white mourning dress. In one rapid movement he had taken off his winter coat and pressed it into my hand.

I looked at his coat reluctantly and through chattering teeth, then stared down at myself. The mourning dress offered no kind of protection in winter. My own jacket was thinner than his. It was a fall model, and while it was water resistant, it wasn't cut properly to withstand a blizzard.

I tried not to look at Jace as I pulled his coat over my shoulders and carefully fastened every button. Almost immediately, his body heat wrapped me in a comfortable cocoon. The icy wind was only felt on my ankles, where my dress didn't reach.

Jace was still angry. He looked like an angel. In perfectly fitting gear, a glittering sword at his hip. His angular face had his chin in the air, his golden eyes fixed on me and like most days, the gold in them was frozen. Just like everything around us.

"I can't believe you're capable of such stupid behavior," he said gruffly. The dislike in his voice didn't surprise me, but his mere presence did. "Why can't you just act normal for once?" It was a rhetorical question, that much was clear. He stood only a meter in front of me, his gaze iron. Now, however, he grabbed the stallion's reins and nodded toward the saddle as if he had said all there was to say.

I remained still as if he hadn't moved himself. The blood in my ears started pounding again and the brief moment of distraction passed. My eyes traveled to my mother's grave and the feeling of emptiness returned. What little warmth remained in his coat wasn't enough to fight the ice in my chest. Suddenly my body shook again, but this time I wasn't sure if it was from the grief or the cold.

"My mother is dead, and she is buried in the Cemetery of the Disgraced" was all I could come up with to justify my behavior. My voice was so low it was almost drowned out by the whistle of the storm.

"Yeah, mine too," Jace retorted with such sharpness that I winced.

That was it. This sharpness, this ignorance, this indifference that drove me over the abyss. I tried to let the cold air flow into my lungs, but it still didn't seem to be enough for my body. This indifference with which the Clave had dismissed my mother. That sharpness with which they had decided over my head when I had just been unwell. This ignorance made me sick.

My legs carried me away from the stallion, away from Jace. I staggered back toward her grave, struggling to breathe oxygen. It wasn't enough. As if my mother had sucked all the oxygen from this world when she was lowered into that tomb. The world around me started spinning.

"By the Archangel," I heard Jace murmur irritated from far away. He stalked after me through the snow and yanked my shoulder around. I could see on his face how annoyed he was about this whole situation. At least for the first second his eyes fixed on my face. Then his features changed, seemed to slip. Because suddenly I could see the overextension in his golden iris. "You have to breathe. Calm down. Breathe."

Only now did I hear the panicked gasps for air my lungs were making, sucking the oxygen into my throat much too hectically. My chest was heaving up and down rapidly and my heart was beating way too fast. Panic. Cold and destructive. It traveled through my veins and brought my bodily functions to a standstill.

Jace grabbed my shoulders, less aggressively this time, and lowered his face to my level. "Breathe. Slow. Count the breaths."

I tried to focus on his voice but there was still pain pressing like another weight against my chest. Invincible and unyielding.

And then the terrible loneliness was there again, its grip on my heart tight and firm. You're alone. All alone. For the rest of your days. My heart shattered. And me with it.

I sobbed. The tears didn't want to come, but my chest shook, making those weird noises. Weakness. But I couldn't care less. If nobody was there anymore, I couldn't disappoint anyone anymore.

Only Jace was still standing in front of me. And my condition seemed to throw him off course. Like he didn't know what to do with this human version of me. Because he raised his arms, effort on his face and looked at me as if he wanted to run away. He surprised us both as he wrapped his arms around my back. The normal reaction when a person is in grief. He did it because he didn't know what to do. He pressed me stiffly and awkwardly against his chest, but we didn't really touch, because he didn't want to be this close to me. It was a strange moment.

"I voted for a proper burial too," Jace informed me quietly, sighing as he gave up his resistance and pulled me into a proper hug. His hands patted my shoulders as if he thought it would bring some comfort. He hated me with every fiber of his being and still felt so sorry that he tried to calm me down somehow. That was strength. True strength. "Only very few deserve to end up here."

My body continued to tremble, but the sobs had subsided. I looked up at him, eyes wide, searching for a sign of pain or sadness. He was referring to his own parents. But Jace's face was blank with emotion. When he caught my gaze, he just shrugged and quickly released his arms from me.

But the tone of his voice was a little softer as he continued. "Let's go before you really freeze to death."

-

So, here we are. Not friendship yet, but Clary isn't all the same to Jace either. Still a hard moment for Clary, her mother is being disregarded after all.

Skyllen :)