Chapter 43 – An Argument with the Deaf

Isabelle and I didn't get very far. We had just arrived at the row of seats that Maryse was able to keep free for us with some effort, when suddenly another crowd of Nephilim came in our way. The grin died on my lips and I struggled to even my breathing as I lifted my head. Amazement took over my face as I looked into Aaron Wrayburn's ebony eyes. A wave of shame washed over me at the thought that I had never once asked Jace about the well-being of the escort who had taken us to my family's estate. Aaron had led them and appeared to have escaped unscathed.

"Clarissa." He bowed his head in a friendly manner and walked up a few flights of stairs until he stopped right in front of me. His companions, whom I could identify as other Shadowhunters from the escort, did the same. "We're glad your recovery is progressing. You have done a great service to our community. You saved the life of one of ours and were willing to give your own. Few warriors show such courage in the heat of battle."

Aaron's words touched me. I could feel the tears behind my eyelids threatening to break out. I bowed my head now. "That's what Nephilim do," I replied, trying not to make the sentence sound like a question. I didn't know what answer he expected.

I seemed to have said the right thing. A look of approval took shape on Aaron's dark face. Earning the respect of an experienced Shadowhunter like him filled me with awe and pride. Then, as if someone had given an unseen signal, they all bowed their bodies in a synchronized motion in a half-bow and I caught my breath. People around us turned their heads in our direction, speechless, and over Aaron's hunched back I caught the gaze of the Inquisitor, who was standing at her dais at the foot of the room, surveying the scene with an unrecognizable look in her eyes. It took her a second to realize our eyes were crossing. She turned her head abruptly to the side. The Shadowhunters rose and I bowed, the only gesture I felt appropriate in the situation. Shortly thereafter, they disappeared and spread out among the many rows in the huge hall.

"Wow," Isabelle whispered at my side. She sounded half jealous, half humble.

Adam, Alec, and Jace made their way over to us and stared after the Shadowhunters. "I'm really glad things turned out this way," Adam said, his face showing a little more realism than Isabelle's. He was standing right next to me and had to lower his head a fair bit to look at me. The wide fabric of our coats touched as he clasped his hands in front of his chest. "He might as well have given that speech at your grave."

"Well, taking a close look at Clary, she might as well have arisen from a grave," Alec remarked, raising his eyebrows skeptically, trying to make a joke. "No offense meant," he then added when he caught my eye.

I forced a smile on my face as I met Alec's gaze. "It feels a bit like that too."

"No negative thoughts!" Isabelle interjected at that moment and shooed the boys into the row of seats with a few hand movements. Almost all of the Nephilim had now taken their places. "You look good and you feel good too, understand? Think of the psychology!"

My giggle died on my tongue as I met Jace's eyes. Maybe Adam, Alec and I should have stuck with Isabelle's positive theatre. He obviously felt guilty. Hadn't he just confessed to me last night? I sighed to myself and pushed my way into the bench behind him before Isabelle could even put one foot in front of the other. If she noticed, she said nothing.

"I'm fine," I whispered in his direction once we were seated.

"Pain makes us human," Jace replied in the same whisper, repeating his words from last night. He turned his head imperceptibly in my direction. The witch-light illuminating the hall gave the tips of his blond hair a silvery tint. The gold of his eyes regarded me almost sadly. "You don't have to pretend you're fine for me. I don't deserve that."

"I'm good at pretending I'm not in pain," I admitted, grabbing my stele in the same instant to draw another Iratze on myself. As short as its effect lasted, I would have to stock up on one more before my presentation.

"You shouldn't be proud of that," Jace replied with a barely audible snort. Frustration mixed into his tone. "There are people who won't judge you for your pain. For my part, I'd be happy if I felt like you were letting me see it voluntarily."

His words touched me. Differently than Aaron's words had. On a deeper, more intimate level. But my tongue was quicker than my mind. "Weird that it's you coming up with that. You're the one who looks at me like I'm not there most of the time." Maybe frustration was speaking out of me. Was it bitterness that escaped my lips? It surprised me because up to that point I hadn't even realized I was feeling it.

Jace was silent for so long I was afraid I wouldn't get an answer at all. "That's unfair. I've made an effort to change that and I find that I manage to open up to you quite well. But if you don't see it that way ..."

"Forget what I said," I mumbled, shrugging. "I don't know why I started with this in the first place. You don't owe me anything."

I had a feeling Jace was about to answer back, but he didn't say anything more. Instead, his grandmother's iron voice cut through the murmur in the vast assembly hall. The Nephilim fell silent on cue, and the silence that followed struck me as eerily loud. You could literally feel how excited and upset the people around me were. Most likely, if I had my sword, I could swing it through the air and cut the tension emanating from the Shadowhunters. For a people of warriors personally chosen by the Archangel, as one they didn't strike me as combatants, although most of them were armed.

"We are not an army," Jace then said, and I took my eyes off the Nephilim for a moment to meet his golden irises. Why was he so good at reading my thoughts from my face? "We are keepers of peace and justice. We are trained for combat, not for war."

A sad smile forced itself onto my face and I couldn't fight it back. My head swiveled away from him, back to the people staring in wait at the Inquisitor, who took her place at the dais. The Consul sat on the left of the two chairs. They reminded me of the thrones of a king and queen. "My father probably saw it differently."

"Community of Nephilim," the Inquisitor called, raising a hand as if she didn't already have the full attention of the room. "This meeting of the Clave is hereby opened. There are two important topics on the agenda, actually only one, but I don't want to withhold from you the news that reached us today from the Underworld. Valentine Morgenstern and his son Jonathan have managed to capture the blood of a warlock child through a cold-blooded murder. So now they are one step closer to completing the conversion of the Soul Sword."

A lively murmur broke out in the ranks, but their voices didn't reach me. All I felt was pain. Not in my stomach but in my chest. It felt like someone was tugging at two opposite ends of my heart, trying to tear it in two. Another victim of the Morgenstern family. Maybe I should start making a list before it got too many and I lost track. The list was already far too long.

"Crime scene investigations indicate that the murder occurred some time ago. Unfortunately, it has only now been discovered. It was determined by an experienced warlock that the victim had summoned a demon in a ritual before being killed. The injuries that led to the death were of a demonic nature, which is why it can be assumed that the demon was able to free itself and killed the child in the process."

"Then how do we even know Valentine had anything to do with it?" someone from the front row called out to the Inquisitor.

"Valentine left us a clue," Imogen replied in a tone that implied she didn't like being interrupted. "The child was sixteen years old and obviously very inexperienced. The warlock assumes that Valentine approached him as a regular customer, and since hardly anyone in the Shadow World knows Valentine's face, he didn't get a chance to recognize him."

"It was a mistake not to reveal his face to the public much sooner! Instead of reminding everyone what a monster he was, we erased him from all books and stories for eighteen years as if he never existed. Now we're paying the price!" shouted another voice, so close to our seat that I turned my face to the right, searching, and met Jace's gaze. Did he see the tears I compulsively tried to hold back? Just the mention of Jonathan's name seemed to finish me off. Where should I get the strength to present my plan to all these people when just his name drained my energy?

Jace surprised me when he reached out his hand and squeezed mine. He did not say anything; I probably wouldn't have understood him anyway through the roaring people around us; but compassion was reflected in the gold of his eyes. The rest of his feelings remained hidden behind a motionless mask. It was enough. I squeezed his fingers in return, unable to find the strength to pry them from his. Jace didn't either.

"And we will correct this mistake. We're already in close contact with the Shadowworlders," Imogen continued, her icy blue eyes scanning the ranks of the Shadowhunters until they rested on me. I had to suppress a shudder. "I just want to remind you that Valentine and Jonathan already possess some werewolf blood. Fortunately, their first attempt to kill a wolf child was not entirely successful. At least that's what we hope. With the blood of the warlocks, all they need is a night child and a child of the fair folk."

Again, the Nephilim began to discuss. Some voices argued that the Shadowhunters had to end their cowardly hiding in Alicante immediately because it would certainly not have been Raziel's will and they were also violating the Accords with the Downworlders. Others spoke out against protecting the Downworlders, saying it was not for the Nephilim to lay down their lives for them. The debate was a bottomless pit.

The Inquisitor tried to placate people. The Consul continued to sit on his throne and seemed quite unaffected by the whole scene. What was his purpose if he just sat there and showed no interest in the fate of his people? The division of labor between Imogen and Malachi seemed odd. His head came up to me as if he felt my eyes on him. As our eyes met, a smile spread across his impassive face, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It was a mystery to me which decent person elected someone with his charisma to such an office.

"I just wanted to bring you this news, it's not part of the vote to be taken today. But maybe for one or the other an important indication that could influence your own voice." Imogen made an effort to calm the Nephilim and something in my stomach began to turn. Jace looked down at me as I released my hand from his and grabbed my stele. Something in his expression darkened at its sigh in my fingers, but he kept his lips pressed together silently. I drew another Iratze on the inside of my forearm and listened to the words of the Inquisitor, whose eyes had once again found me in the crowd. This time intention sparkled in them.

"I have assigned Clarissa Morgenstern to negotiate a treaty with the Shadowworlders on behalf of the Nephilim. We're going to vote on that treaty today," Imogen said in a loud, confident voice. Her authority changed nothing. The chaos that followed was predictable. "You may doubt my decision, but I still think it's the right one. Clarissa has the advantage of being able to see our situation from a unique, outside perspective because she's only been part of our community for such a short time. Additionally, for years, Jocelyn Morgenstern was very close friends with Luke Garroway, who will probably only be known to you as Lucian Graymark. He is the leader of a werewolf pack that has great influence in the Shadow World. Who would he trust more than his best friend's daughter?"

It was strange hearing Imogen talk about me like that. From her mouth it sounded as if she had successfully manipulated me into carrying out her orders. Up until now I had always thought that she installed me because she wanted to see the negotiations fail. But now I wasn't sure anymore. She didn't strike me as a woman who would abandon her last living relative in a devastated world. Her desire for revenge for my father was strong enough that she had a vested interest in seeing him fall. If that meant working with Downworlders, she might even take that step.

"Lucian was as committed to Valentine back then as Jocelyn was! His transformation was his just punishment!" someone yelled, earning murmurs of assent.

"Times are changing, my dears," the Consul said at that moment, and the attention in the hall shifted audibly. "We will have to take risks to defeat Valentine. Neither Clarissa Morgenstern nor Lucian Graymark, or whatever he calls himself these days, have our trust. Not at all! But remember, the Downworlders distrust us Nephilim now more than ever. While Clarissa's family history may be difficult, Lucian seems to trust her enough to negotiate with her. We should listen to what came out of it."

I could literally feel hundreds of pairs of eyes turning towards me. My head snapped from Malachi to the Inquisitor, questioning and waiting. To my relief, she spoke again to instruct me. "Well then, Clarissa, get up and share what you've accomplished."

My gaze slid to Isabelle and she gave me an encouraging wink. Her red lips parted and formed the word psychology. I rolled my eyes and slowly got up from the bench. My legs swayed beneath me and for a split second I feared they would not support my weight. I looked across the many rows of Nephilim and let oxygen rush into my lungs. The hall had warmed up amidst all the people. I slipped my winter coat off my shoulders and finally, after an infinitely long wait, spoke up.

"Community of Nephilim," I began, imitating the Inquisitor who had opened the meeting with the same words. I was glad to hear my voice carried loud and clear through the hall. No sign of the pain that had momentarily turned to a throbbing behind the Iratze's protective wall. "You know me as Valentine Morgenstern's daughter and that will probably mean that you don't want to – or can't – trust me. My father has trampled on your most sacred traditions, torn your families apart, and is responsible for the deaths of so many Shadowhunters. I know I can never undo or fix his actions, but I still want to apologize. For the suffering, for the death and for the terrible things that are yet to come. Many of you will not believe my words and I understand that, neither would I if I were you. I can only hope that you will give me a chance to prove my loyalty."

I paused for a moment, overwhelmed by the torrent of words. None of the Nephilim interrupted my speech, which amazed and relieved me in equal measure. I wasn't sure how I would react if someone cut me off in the hostile manner that individuals had just done to Imogen. "I'm on your side and I lost someone I loved too. Maybe some still knew her as Jocelyn Fairchild. She is the reason I can stand before you today. She wanted to stop the killing and had to pay the ultimate price herself."

"Community of Nephilim, I stand before you today because I will finish what my mother started. Valentine has killed so many people for his faith, but he doesn't stop at his own family, which he claims is so sacred. I think that says enough about his character. If some of you think that he can be negotiated with, you are mistaken! My father is in possession of the Soul Sword and Mortal Cup. He will raze this city to the last Shadowhunter and create a new generation on the ruins."

"What do you suggest, Clarissa Morgenstern?" Malachi asked in a questionable tone, as if he didn't like my words.

I didn't look over at him as I continued. Instead, my eyes continued to roam across the many rows of Shadowhunters. I had to reach them, not the Consul. They were the key. "By retreating to Alicante, we have not only broken our oath to Raziel, but also the one to the Shadowworlders. We have violated the Accords and that means war. We cannot afford a war with the Shadowworlders: it would be not only unnecessary but also, from our perspective, utterly foolish since we are vastly outnumbered. If Valentine succeeds in conversing Mellartach, we would be lost to the demons alone. If there's any hope left for anyone then. What I'm trying to say is that the Shadow World would suffer as much as we do if Valentine carries out his plan. Now we still have the chance to prevent the conversion and we can only do that together. That's why Isabelle and Alec Lightwood, Adam Demonhunter, Jace Herondale, and I, as Clave emissaries, met with Luke Garroway, Magnus Bane, and Raphael Santiago to negotiate a treaty that would prevent this war. Both parties agreed that the Accords as they currently exist must be replaced because they are neither up-to-date nor fair. It was an absolute requirement of the Shadow World."

Mumbling broke out in parts of the room, though I couldn't tell if it was from mentioning the others or criticism of the Accords. I had mentioned their names on purpose. People needed to know that I hadn't negotiated alone just because I was forced to present the results. Strictly speaking, Isabelle and Alec had contributed the most to the negotiations. It would have been unfair not to mention her.

"We came to a conclusion that is divided into several points," I explained and felt my throat slowly getting dry. All this talk just made my head start spinning. "The representatives of the Shadow World have pledged that they will stand by the side of the Nephilim and support them with all their might in the fight against Valentine. In return, they demand an agreement that makes us equal partners. A Council shall be formed, a representative of each clan, which shall have an equal say in all matters of politics affecting the Underworld as a whole."

"Equal rights?" a stunned male voice yelled from far away. "We're not on the same level as these demon creatures!" More voices rose.

Blood rushed to my face. The room started spinning faster. I closed my eyes for a second and tried to focus my mind on the facts. Who would follow me if I couldn't handle even one critic? "These demon creatures will ensure that you don't disappear from the face of this world!" I replied as loudly as possible. The voices around me grew quieter. "Idris doesn't belong only to the Nephilim, although you have long pretended it does. This world is shared and so there should also be equality in legislation."

"You can't be serious," the Consul uttered, getting up from his chair indignantly. His face had darkened with anger and he was pointing his index finger at me in an almost threatening gesture. "We are chosen by Raziel! We are superior to any species on this planet. To deny that is an insolence! A Council?" Malachi spat out the word as if the thought made him sick. "I certainly won't sit down with vampires or werewolves to make laws together!"

"Don't worry, Consul," I said into the silence caused by Malachi's words, and shrugged. I could feel the many pairs of eyes resting on me with a crushing force. To be personally attacked by the Consul was probably a rarity. I stared down at Malachi and leaned forward a little, a cold, indifferent expression spreading across my face. "If you don't have the guts, we'll find someone else. Fortunately, politicians are replaceable. In times like these, that might happen faster than you'd like."

It was as if the entire hall took a sharp breath. Beside me, Isabelle couldn't help but laugh. "How uncivilized of you, Clary," she giggled and several people turned to her with wide eyes. "He probably doesn't like being picked on by Valentine's daughter like that."

Isabelle's words brought a grin to my face. Malachi looked like he was about to explode. "How dare she!" he yelled, taking a few steps in Imogen's direction, who pressed her lips together hard and showed no emotion. "She talks just like her father, has the same sharp tongue! And you want to follow her? She probably conspired against us with her father and is just trying to carry out the plan Valentine gave her."

"And this plan would be what, Consul?" I demanded and could hardly contain my anger myself. "Give me an alternative! There is none. Our plan is the only way to save the Nephilim from extinction!"

"Such an alliance with the Downworlders will result in our extinction as well!" Malachi shouted back.

"Shadowworlders and Shadowhunters may be on opposite sides, but they don't have to be. We can be allies if the conservative faction in this room finally put the common good ahead of their own outdated values. My father taught me for eighteen that Downworlders were nothing but scum. I'll admit that I'm not completely comfortable around them, but even so, it only took me a few weeks to grasp the truth." Luke's words. It was what he had said to me at the end of our negotiations. I wondered if we could have been friends in another world. In a world where my mother might have left Valentine much earlier.

"Clary's right," a voice to my right announced at that moment. My eyes widened in surprise when I saw Alec speak up. "One of the reasons many Nephilim dislike the Shadowworlders is because they fear them. You fear the demon blood in their veins. The truth is that demon blood doesn't make them demons. They are people with feelings just like us. Only the Nephilim among you who have ever been in contact with one of their own understand that. Anyone who lives outside of Idris will agree with me on that."

Silence. Even Malachi had no answer for that. Alec's head swiveled towards me and a satisfied expression sparkled in his blue eyes. He didn't smile, but that didn't change the open support he had given me. I nodded my thanks and could hardly hide the relief on my face.

Then I turned back to Malachi and the rest of the Shadowhunters. Not everything was said yet. What followed now would only depress the mood further and cause unrest, I was sure of that. I swallowed a sigh as I opened my mouth. "We promised the Shadowworlders a second thing," I said, and I could already feel displeasure rising. Undermining the supremacy of the Nephilim was not enough. "Nearly all packs and clans of werewolves and vampires have gathered in Idris. The wolves live not far from Alicante. They fear Valentine because he is still chasing their children. If the contract shall be finalized and we want their support against Valentine, they ask us to give up our game of hide-and-seek. The Nephilim shall return to the world, as before Valentine's return, and seek to protect both humans and Shadow World. We're not enough to protect everyone out there. The preferable alternative would be to allow the Shadowworlders into Alicante."

A riot broke out, sweeping through the ranks like a giant explosion. Like a toxic mixture of different elements that set off a deadly chain reaction. I used the moments of excitement to focus on the pain in my stomach that had almost broken through the Iratze's wall. I felt that each additional Iratze had a lesser effect on my body. How many minutes did I have before the black dots would reappear in front of my vision?

"I know nothing like this has ever happened before," I admitted with a sigh, but only half of the Shadowhunters seemed to be listening.

"This city is sacred and now we are to make it available to a horde of savages?"

"It's just for the duration of the war. Until we defeat Valentine and have the Mortal Sword safely in our power. They can stay in abandoned houses or in the Accords Hall. Maybe there will be some families who will take in individuals." I paused as something flickered before my eyes. A moment later, a sharp pain in my stomach followed. My body started shaking, I lost control. It felt like I was floating a few inches off the ground. My head jerked across the bench to the Inquisitor. Her eyes were already fixed on me. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, but otherwise showed no further emotion. Her face resembled that of a stone sculpture. "That's all we negotiated. I know it's hard to digest, but ... we have no choice."

Now that I had completed my report, the noise level around me grew rapidly. Many had jumped up and discussed with each other. Arguments flew around the room. I had no idea whether for or against our proposal. All my ears picked up was loud static. I grabbed my stele and let myself fall exhausted onto the bench.

"That was phenomenal!" Isabelle exclaimed over the voices and I gave her a small smile. Her brown eyes swept over my face and the exuberant joy faded from her gaze. "You don't look well, Clary."

"Psychology, Isabelle," I replied, half laughing, half panting, and once more pressed the stele against my hot skin. I forgot to count how many Iratzes there had been before.

Someone pressed a hand behind my back and as I turned my body halfway to the side, I met Jace's face, which was closer to me than I had expected. Concern was reflected in his eyes, but there was a satisfied smile on his lips. "It went well, but the hard part is just beginning. Discussion can turn things around when the right people speak."

"I've spoken enough," I replied quietly, unable to prevent myself from leaning against his hand.

"It was good that you admitted how you feel in the presence of the Shadowworlders," Jace murmured now, the words carrying no further than my ear. "That gives the right signal. You don't have to be friends with them to see that they're human."

-

Please like and leave a comment! :)

Skyllen