Where Angels Fear to Tread Chapter 2

Here's a link to Chapter 1 for a refresher.

Chapter 2: Abandon

Magnus clapped his hands. “Well!” He grinned as the children jumped. “Since we’re all such good friends, I had something I wanted to do.”

Jace snorted, tossing his golden blond hair. “We didn’t agree to work with you yet.”

We were still in my study, after my last pronouncement. I could see the seeds of doubt I’d planted concerning the Conclave. Whether or not they truly believed me was yet to be determined.

But if they wouldn’t help me find the Mortal Cup, well…

I was used to going through people to get what I wanted.

“Anywho.” Mangus flounced—there really was no other word for it—over to one of the bookshelves. “By your leave, High Warlock.”

I flicked my fingers. “Do whatever you want.” I pushed off of my desk, going to stand over at my window. “I’ll be ready to go in a moment.”

“Reiterating, here, we haven’t agreed to take you with us.”

I cast a smile over my shoulder towards Jace. “You know, there’s a saying.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Fools rush in where Angels fear to tread.”

The boy crossed his arms. “And you’re supposed to be our guardian Angel, huh?”

I chuckled. “Oh no.” I turned back toward the window. “You don’t need angels if you’re going to stand against this Valentine.”

Towards the door, the other boy, Alec, chimed in. “I thought you just made High Warlock.” His voice was tinged with suspicion. “How do you know so much about Valentine?”

“She’s a voracious reader, our dear Khepri.” Magnus made a little noise. “Speaking of, here, Clary, dear.”

I turned back towards the group to see Magnus hold out a little green book towards the red-headed girl. “The Grey Book?” I asked.

Clary glanced at me and then back to the book. “It’s green, though.”

Jace snorted. “If there was something called terminal literalism, you’d have died as a baby.”

“It’s short from Greymarye,” Alec said.

I chuckled. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio.” I came closer, but made no room to take the book. “Why, Magnus?”

“Call it for old time’s sake.” Magnus opened the book to a particular page. “Jocelyn and I were, if not friends, then at least friendly acquaintances.” He gave an aggrieved expression. “I truly am sorry to hear that she was taken by Valentine. Here, take this.” He pressed the book into Clary’s hands. “Don’t look away.”

I glanced at the icon on the page. It was just squiggles to me, and to most anyone who wasn’t a Shadow Hunter. I could remember the runes that the Shadow Hunters used, with effort, but they were useless to me.

Clary’s eyes started to water for a second, before the rune snapped into place in her mind. She blinked once, mouth forming a little ‘o’ of surprise.

I’m sure it felt like something filling a gap you never even noticed was empty.

She flipped to the next page and the next before I stepped forward and plucked the book from her fingers. “Careful, now.” I flicked the Grey book shut. “Too many at once and you’ll render yourself incapable of doing anything at all.”

Clary blinked up at me owlishly. “What do you mean?”

“Most of your kind learn one rune from the book a day. Too much can overstress the mind.” Magnus rolled his shoulders. “This is, apparently, the knowledge of angels after all, given to mankind to fight against the demons of hell.”

“There are runes in the book that even I don’t know,” Jace said. He turned to look at Magnus. “You started with memory.”

“To better help her keep hold of the rest.” Magnus smiled. “And also because it may help the rest of her memories come back faster.”

Clary bit her lip, looking back and forth between the two of us. “Are you sure you can’t…”

“No.” I cut my hand through the air. “I wouldn’t have risked destroying your mind before, and certainly not now that I’m aware you know the location of the cup. Imagine if that piece of knowledge were lost.”

Magnus chuckled. “Messing with the mind is a good way to lose your recent memories, if you’re lucky.”

Clary looked down, glancing at the book in my hands. I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure that Institute of yours will have plenty of material for you to study.”

Alec took a step forward. “Why do you even have one of those? Only Shadow Hunters can use the runes.”

“All knowledge is worth having,” I said.

Magnus chuckled. “A girl after my own heart.”

I slipped the tiny volume into my pocket before turning back to the children. “Well?” I spread my arms. “Are we going to have this debate again? About whether you should run to the Clave and hope Valentine didn’t leave anyone to keep tabs on you?”

“As opposed to trusting you.” Jace looked like he swallowed a lemon.

I smiled. “I am the High Warlock of Brooklyn, after all.” I waved a hand towards the window. “Aren’t we all supposed to be on the same side here?”

“I-I think we should.” Clary nodded. “And, no offence, but I mean, Hodge has been stuck in the Institute since he was practically our age. Are you sure he wouldn’t…?”

“He wouldn’t.” Jace shook his head. “Still, maybe the warlock has a point.” He crossed his arms. “The faster we move, the faster we can recover the cup, and the less likely it is that anyone will interfere.” He stared me down for a long moment, and I laughed.

“Let me put it this way,” I said. “Would you rather I be where you can see me, or following invisibly behind?”

Jace snorted, but he didn’t try to start an argument again. The Mortal Cup was important, after all, and it made sense that someone like me wouldn’t want Valentine to have access to his own personal army of Shadow Hunters.

The last time, he’d tried to kill anyone who wasn’t human; these days I was part of that category as well.

Maybe I hadn’t been human for far longer than that.

“Let’s go get your friend before he gets himself tricked into a faerie bargain, then.” Jace turned on his heel, marching towards the door. “We’ve got work to do.”

“Right!” Clary quickly caught up with him, making for the elevator without looking back towards me. I sighed. Children.

Of course, I’d been just as impatient when I was their age.

I turned to Magnus. “I don’t suppose you’re coming?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his glittering hair. “I’m not the type of person who’d come between Valentine and his revenge. I don’t really have any great love for the rest of the Shadow Hunters either.”

I shrugged. “I can sympathize. I’ve never been a fan of authority.”

He giggled. “Really? I never would have guessed.”

I rolled my eyes and took the stairs. We paused for just long enough to sort out some incident with a rat. Apparently Clary’s mortal friend drank some of the fey liquor and got turned into a rodent. The more you know.

I ended up tossing the rat to Magnus to keep an eye on while we took care of the cup. He’d turn back to human soon enough, and messing around with whatever potion was still in his system was a good way to blow him up.

I turned towards Clary as we exited the apartment building. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell us where the Cup was, now that we’ve agreed we’re on the same side?” I’d grabbed a coat on the way out, and I pulled it on now to hide my metal arm.

It made shopping for groceries a real pain.

She took a deep breath, glancing around at Jace and Alec.

Ah, and the new Shadow Hunter as well, the one who’d been minding the rat. I thought I heard one of the boys call her Isabelle. That girl was looking at me with just as much hostility as the other two, twirling a finger through her silky black hair.

Her other hand never strayed far from her whip.

“We need to head back to my apartment first.”

I turned back to Clary at her words.

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.

She nodded. “I need to get something.”

I shrugged. “Then by all means lead the way.”

Leading the way, it turned out, involved taking the metro.

“You know.” I sat down across from Clary, the three Shadow Hunters sitting around the girl protectively. “We could have just taken my car.”

Clary shrugged, leaning into Jace a bit even as the boy rolled his eyes. It was funny, he seemed to listen to her, and be unable to stand her in turns.

It really must be love.

“There’s not really anywhere to park.”

I pinched my nose. “And I’m sure a parking ticket was worth worrying about, at this point.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly.

“What, you’d just take three Shadow Hunters in your car?” Jace crossed his arms. “How do you even have a license?”

“Well, the three of you would have to sit in the back.” I pulled a face. “And then I’d have to clean the upholstery, but that’s a small sacrifice, really.”

“Notice how she didn’t answer how she got her license.” Isabelle tossed her hair. How she managed that without getting it all tangled over the back of her seat, I’ll never know.

I waved the fingers of my good hand. “Magic.”

Jace snorted.

We fell silent for a moment, Jace, Alec, and Isabelle staring me down while Clary fidgeted in between the three of them.

“So…” the girl started.

I turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Why didn’t Magnus come along?” She rubbed her arm. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy someone is watching Simon, but…”

I leaned back in the worn metro seat. Just another sign of how different this world was from Bet. We hadn’t had much of a public transportation system, nevermind how many years of his life Dad had spent trying to get the ferry up and running again.

But then, that was just the difference between Magnus and me in a nutshell, wasn’t it.

“Magnus is a pragmatist.” I rolled my wrist, feeling the metal and bones grind against each other in a way that was just shy of painful. “The last thing he wants is to get involved in something he won’t be able to walk away from.”

“Doesn’t seem like a good attitude for the High Warlock,” Jace said.

I hummed. “He walked away from that one just fine, didn’t he?” I shook my head. “No, there’s a reason he’s been around New York for so long, and it’s the exact same reason he’s not with us today.”

“What?” Jace tilted his head. “You think he’s just waiting to see how the chips fall?”

“More like he doesn’t particularly care who loses this hand, as long as it isn’t him.” I shrugged. “That said, he’s a man of his word; this Simon of yours is in good hands until the potion wears off.”

Clary paused for a second. “And after?”

I chuckled. “I imagine Magnus will kick him out of the penthouse, but with enough money for a taxi at least.”

Clary frowned. “Hopefully we can get back before then.”

I kept the bland smile on my face. “Yes, hopefully.”

“You don’t talk like someone who was alive in the forties.”

I raised an eyebrow at Jace. He was looking at me through narrowed eyes. “Would you prefer I go back to talking like a Jane Austin novel instead, Mr. Bingley?”

Isabelle snorted, lips quirking into a smirk. “That’s a book you could have read.”

I shrugged. “I read a lot of things. I also happen to know how to use the internet. Really, you have to shut yourself off from society to miss out on vernacular. It doesn’t change particularly fast.”

Jace stared at me for a moment more. The boy was suspicious. It was reasonable, but really more annoying than anything else. I sighed. And this was what I had to work with.

The train pulled to another stop, and the sudden influx of passengers put a stop to any conversation about supernatural topics. A larger man with a shaved head sat down behind me, the plastic seat creaking under his weight.

“Is… is that what you do for fun?” Clary asked.

I turned back to look at her. “Hmm?”

She flushed. “Read, I mean.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I should be focused, but this is all still kinda new to me, and I guess…”

I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. “You’re asking questions instead of panicking?”

She gave a short nod. to the side. Isabelle rolled her eyes, shooting a sharp glance at the other girl.

It was the type of look that made me want to grind the dark-haired girl down beneath my boot, but that would probably put a damper on this little alliance of ours.

I hated bullies.

“I do read a bit. Magnus has an extensive collection.” I’d scoured tome after tome, looking for a way to jump between worlds once again. I knew it was possible—Doormaker was far from the only way to get between worlds—all I needed was the right combination of effects, and enough power in my grasp.

And then I could see them again.

“I guess you could say I also do it to distract myself.” Clary gave me a questioning look at that, but I just smiled. “Is this your stop?”

She glanced up, her expression flickering slightly, before firming up.

She had determination, at least. I chuckled. I guess I didn’t mind helping a girl who was hopelessly out of her depth. You’d understand if you’ve ever been there yourself.

We exited the subway in silence, four teens and me, not that I was much older at this point. I think my twentieth had passed sometime while I was taking over Brooklyn, but it was hard to match dates when interplanar travel was involved.

Warlocks didn’t age, anyway.

Clary led our motley crew to a large building that like it had been repurposed into an apartment complex. There was a staircase leading up to the second floor from the foyer, and the moonlight trickled in from a dirty skylight.

Jace made for the stairs, presumably Clary’s apartment, but for her part the girl turned and walked to one of the doors off the foyer itself. I raised an eyebrow at the colorful banner hanging over the entrance.

Madame Dorothea

Fortunes, Tarot, and the Mystic Arts

Still, I followed behind, only hesitating when I felt a frisson of power in the air, dancing over my skin as I crossed the threshold.

Not just a phony, then.

Inside, the predominant decorations were large swaths of multicolored cloth.

“Mrs. Dorothea?” Clary called.

An older woman tottered out of the back, head wrapped in an aggressively yellow turban. She smiled slightly at Clary, before her expression stilled on the rest of us. The prickling on the back of my neck intensified. I fought back the urge to begin shaping a spell. If this Madame Dorothea had just a drop of true magic, it would be unnecessary.

But if she were a real mage, that much would be taken as an attack.

“Clarissa, dear.” The woman came forward, taking Clary’s hands. “Are you alright? I heard that Jocelyn had gone missing.”

Clary nodded. “That’s… what I need to talk to you about.”

The woman frowned slightly, glancing back and forth at the rest of us. “Why would that be?”

Clary took a deep breath. “It’s about the reason she was taken.”

“…Taken?” The woman’s frown deepened.

Clary nodded. “I think… I think she gave you something, and that’s part of why she was targeted. I think she hid something important with you.”

The woman hemmed and hawed, drawing Clary deeper into the room and sitting her down at the table. “Hid something with me?” The woman shook her head. “I think I would have noticed if that was the case.”

Meanwhile, my eyes narrowed on Clary’s back. Pick something up, she’d said.

Was the cup supposed to be here of all places?

I shifted my foot against the persian rug.

“Maybe. But I think mom did it in such a way that no one could ever find it.” I saw Clary’s shoulders tense. “No one except me.”

Madame Dorothea tutted. “What have you gotten yourself into, dear?” She shook her head. “I don’t have many things from Jocelyn, dear. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can help you here.”

“You have the tarot deck she made for you, though.”

The old woman paused at Clary’s words, glancing at the deck of cards wrapped in a scarf in the center of the table. “This.”

Clary nodded, reaching for the deck, before pausing. “May I?”

“By all means.”

Clary took the cards, running her fingers over them reverently. My gaze sharpened. A map, perhaps? I’d seen stranger things than that.

Clary seemed to have a different idea though. She flipped over the cards one by one, revealing a host of caringly had drawn cards. Swords and towers, a lovingly rendered wheel spinning merrily beneath a waterfall, even Death itself, done entirely in deep black and stark white, chiaroscuro.

Then she got to the cup.

I felt my breath catch as I saw the card over her shoulder. It looked exactly the same as the mortal cup in the book. But it was just a picture. Was it a map of some kind?

“That’s…” Jace leaned closer. “Clary, how did your mother know what the cup looked like?”

But the girl wasn’t with us anymore. Her eyes had gone wide, pupils dilated as her fingers cradled the tarot card like a baby bird.

As if in a trance, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a thin piece of what looked like cut glass. It was something I’d only heard of in my research, since I’d had the luck to dodge the Shadow Hunters until now.

It was called a steele, and it was how they drew the runes that gave them their magic.

I looked at Clary’s hands for the first time, taking in the artist’s calluses and the bit of paint that still colored the tip of her pinky. She was an artist just like her mother.

And she’d led us to a piece of art that looked exactly like the mortal cup.

Clary, still unresponsive, placed the tip of her steele against the card. She traced a looping line, solid black against the white of the card. The design seemed to dribble like liquid from the steele, forming lines and swirls with the lightest pass.

“Where did she even get a steele?” I heard Isabelle hiss.

Jace shrugged. “Lent her mine.”

“To a mor—”

“Hush.” I breathed. “I’ve memorized the grey book cover to cover.” Despite the difficulties in remembering the runes. “And that is not one within its pages.”

“What?”

The three Shadow Hunters turned back to the rune just in time for Clary to finish the final stroke. She came back to herself, blinking as the steele clattered to the table from nerveless fingers.

Jace leaned forward. “Clary?”

She didn’t hear him, instead, her hand reached forward, dipping into the material of the card with a whisper. She pulled back and with her fingers came a small cup, even as the card itself—now barren and blank—crumpled to dust in the wind.

“The mortal cup,” Isabelle whispered.

“How did you…”

Clary shook her head at Jace’s aborted question. She pushed herself to her feet. “I just… the moment I saw the picture, I just knew. And then, when I had it in front of me, everything clicked.”

Jace looked at the cup in the girl’s hand, eyes wide. “I thought it would be bigger.” He made a cupping gesture with his hands.

Isabelle snorted. “It’s the mortal cup, not toilet bowl, Jace.”

He shot an annoyed glance towards the girl, even as Clary looked down at the chalice and the maroon liquid swirling within.

My hand snaked in and clamped down on Madame Dorothea’s arm. “Well now.”

The old woman reared back, even as the Shadow Hunters realized that she’d made a play for the cup. I guess they weren’t quite expecting the kind of war they’d walked into.

I grinned. “Remember what I said about traitors?”

Clary blinked. “Mrs. Dorothea?”

The old woman glared at me. “Valentine will make your death long and slow,” she hissed. I felt her start to gather a thimbleful of magical power.

I yanked her forward, half over the table, and pressed my metal hand against her brow. “Enough.”

She went limp, like a puppet with her strings cut. Clary gasped, stumbling backwards, my eyes tracked the cup almost unbidden.

And that was nearly the death of me.

Dorothea’s body hit the floor, and then with a scream, the mass of scarves on one of the walls were blown asunder.

My hands came up, conjuring a shield just in time to block a shadowy claw. Beyond the decoration, an eldritch portal seethed, growing in size as a demon made of black smoke dragged itself through.

Alec staggered back. “What the hell is that?!”

A blue glow filled the room as Jace drew his angel blade. “Isn’t it obvious?” The crystal hilt sprouted into a sword, made of the selfsame material as a steele, but turned to a much deadlier end. I took a step back, hair rising in the sudden wind as the demon forced its way into reality.

It burbled and hissed, the very fabric of the material world trying to reject it without a host.

“It’s not fully through!” I had to shout to be heard over the wind. “Whatever the old woman summoned, it’s weakened without a host!”

A roiling chuckle emanated from the dark mass. “How lucky that you provided one, little warlock.”

My eyes widened as it surged forward. I traced a finger through the air, a door of fire opening up in front of me. It was burned by the physical, its impurity unable to bear it. The mass of shadow hit my barrier and reeled back, screaming in agony.

I hissed, staggering as the sound assaulted my ears, sending fire through my veins.

They said that warlocks had demon blood; I guess I should have taken it more literally.

Luckily, I wasn’t alone in this fight. As the mass of shadow regained itself, the Shadow Hunters leapt into action. Jace’s twin angel blades cut a burning swath through the mist.

The demon swirled back, lashing out with appendages more akin to columns of smoke than limbs. But they were enough to turn aside Isabelle’s whip.

It caught the end of Alec’s staff, roaring as it threw itself forward.

“Alec!” Jace leapt again, carving lines down its amorphous back. It wasn’t enough to stop it.

The mass of mist crashed into Alec, and the boy screamed. I saw him twist and turn, arms flailing as the demon tried to force its will over his.

His skin began to bleed as it tried to force the angel’s blood from his veins.

“Jace, catch!” My head snapped to the side as Isabelled kicked the table, sending the steele Clary had dropped flying through the air. With a flick of my fingers, I guided it right into Jace’s waiting hand. He spun, sword in one hand and steele in the other as he carved a way through the black mist.

“Be still!” I shouted, raising my hand. Shaping magic without preparation was an exhausting, draining process, and even after only two spells I felt my breath growing short. Even still, I managed to bind the demon’s limbs for a second.

In this life and the last, I’d had power in spades.

Jace all but crashed into Alec, drawing a mark on the other boy’s chest with frantic strokes. The black tattoo blazed a brilliant white the moment it was completed, and this time it was the Demon that screamed. It billowed out of Alec’s eyes and mouth.

And this time, the angel blades were enough to carve it apart.

With a keening wail, the monster darted back towards the portal. I reached out, mystical senses catching the weave of the working. It had been the thing that prickled at my skin from the start, but too hidden for me to notice.

Now though, I’d seen enough of it to tear the working asunder.

The portal snapped shut, cutting loose the power and psyche that the demon had sent forth to the real world. Directionless and adrift,  what remained of the demon twisted in a roiling mass, lashing out randomly as Jace and Isabelle systematically flayed it apart.

In less than a minute, the mist dispersed, burning away to ashes as it lost the ability to maintain itself in the real world.

I was at Alec’s side a moment later.

The boy was scarcely breathing, his skin bloody and raw from the conflict with the demon.

“It must have been something powerful,” I said. “To overcome the effects of a Shadow Hunter’s blood.”

Dipping my fingers in that same substance, I began drawing a circle on the center of his chest.

“Alec!” Isabelle slid to the ground next to me, hands going to the boy’s head. “Alec, wake up.”

“Izzy…” His reply came out in a burble of blood, and I grimaced, hand moving faster.

A blade came to a stop at my throat. “What are you doing!”

I didn’t pause to look up at Jace as I began marking out the zenith and nadir of my circle. I drew markings for time and shadow around the edges, connecting it to the runic marks that all Shadow Hunters bore. “I’m saving his life. He’s been touched by a demon. Even now, there’s a taint in his blood.”

“Then we need to get him to the institute!”

I shook my head. “You won’t make it in time. I’m putting him into stasis, that way you’ll be able to transport him safely.” I began gathering my power. “Kill me and he’ll die before you can get him out of this room.” An exaggeration, I’ll admit.

But not by much.

“Jace, back off!” Isabelle glared. “He’s our brother!”

Jace’s eyes went to the formation I’d drawn on Alec’s chest. He glared, trying to put together what I could be casting from what he’d no doubt been taught of warlock magic.

I waited just long enough for him to pull his sword back, and cast.

The blood turned black for a second, a pulse of light washing over the room before vanishing. Alec stilled. His form became like stone, caught between heartbeats. It would last for long enough to get him where he needed to go and then some.

Of course, he wasn’t the only one frozen.

“I am sorry.” I rose, pushing Jace’s blade away from me. “About having to do this.”

Near the wall, Clary took a half a step back. “W-what?”

I stepped over Alec, passing between the equally frozen Jace and Isabelle. I’d tuned the spell by blood yes, but also by resonating with the marks that Shadow Hunters used to enhance their abilities.

Of course, Clary shared neither of those with Alec.

The girl pressed herself against the wall, clutching the mortal cup to her chest. “What did you do to them?”

I stepped closer, catching her arm as she tried to push past me. “Jace and Isabelle will wake in about fifteen minutes.” That was the most I could do with resonance. My other hand pulled the cup from her fingers even as she struggled in my metal grasp. “It will last for exactly an half an hour after that on the boy. More than enough time to save his life, if you hurry.”

“You…” her eyes widened. “You planned this.”

I sighed, before crushing the little bit of regret inside my chest.

“No.” I let go of Clary, taking a step back. “I’m just good at thinking on my feet.” I watched her run to Jace, even as I slipped the cup into the pocket of my coat. “And I won’t risk the Mortal Cup falling into anyone’s hands.”

She glared. “You just wanted it for yourself.”

I shrugged, turning towards the door. “Be that as it may—"

There was a rustle on the carpet. I spun, catching the steele on my armored gauntlet. It skittered off the magical protections, and I kneed Clary in the stomach.

She gasped, dropping as I twisted the weapon from her grip. It clattered to the ground, out of reach.

“Be that as it may,” I continued. “I’ll keep the cup safe.” I gave a wan smile. “I hardly want to end this world, after all. Just escape it.”

“Was it you…” Clary gasped for breath. “Was it you, all along?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” I dropped her arm, kicking the steele farther away. “I hardly even knew Valentine existed earlier tonight. If you hadn’t come to me, I never would have known about the war brewing on my very doorstep.” I glanced towards the remains of Madame Dorothea’s abode, and the tarot cards scattered on the floor. “And the Mortal Cup would still be here, in the unknowing hands of Valentine’s agent.”

She glared, and I sighed again. “I know you think I’m a monster.” I reached into my pocket, pulling out the Grey Book. “That’s fair. It’s what I am, after all.” I pressed the slim volume into Clary’s fingers with a wan smile. “Take this as an apology, then. Magnus has other copies.”

She blinked down at the book, before staring up at me. “Why?”

“Because I am far from the only monster.”