Chapter 53


    Font Size:


    AAt+A++


    I’ve lost him, she thought despairingly.


    “Get down,” he said, and pushed her, hard. She stumbled, fell to the ground, rolled onto one knee. Kneeling upright, she saw Valentine


    raise his sword high over his head. The glow from the chandelier overhead exploding off the de sent brilliant points of light stabbing into


    her eyes. “Luke!” she shrieked.


    The de mmed home—inte the floor. Luke was no longer there. Jace, having moved faster than ry would have thought possible


    even for a Shadowhunter, had knocked him out of the way, sending him sprawling to the side. Jace stood facing his father over the


    quivering hilt of the sword, his face white, but his gaze steady.


    “I think you should leave,” Jace said.


    Valentine stared incredulously at his son. “What did you say?"


    Luke had pulled himself into a sitting position. Fresh blood stained his shirt. He stared as Jace reached out a hand and gently, almost


    disinterestedly, caressed the hilt of the sword that had been driven into the floor. "I think you heard me, Father.”


    Valentine''s voice was like a whip. “Jonathan Morgenstern—"


    Quick as lightning, Jace seized the hilt of the sword, tore it free from the floorboards, and raised it. He held it lightly, level and t, the point


    hovering a few inches below his father’s chin. “That''s not my name,” he said. “My name is Jace Wand.


    Valentine''s eyes were still fixed on Jace: he barely seemed to notice the sword at his throat. “Wand?” he roared. “You have no Wand


    blood! Michael Wand was a stranger to you—


    “So,” said Jace calmly, “are you.” He jerked the sword to the left. “Now move.”


    Valentine was shaking his head. “Never. I will not take orders from a child.”


    The tip of the sword kissed Valentine’s throat. ry stared in fascinated horror. “I am a very well-trained child,” Jace said. “You instructed


    me yourself in the precise art of killing. I only need to move two fingers to cut your throat, did you know that?” His eyes were steely. “I


    suppose you did.”


    “You''re skilled enough,” said Valentine. His tone was dismissive, but, ry noticed, he was standing very still indeed. “But you could not kill


    me. You have always been softhearted.”


    “Perhaps he couldn''t.” It was Luke, on his feet now, pale and bloody but upright. “But I could. And I''m not entirely sure he could stop me.”


    Valentine''s feverish eyes flicked to Luke, and back to his son. Jace hadn''t turned when Luke spoke, but stood still as a statue, the sword


    unmoving in his hand. “You hear the monster threatening me, Jonathan,” said Valentine. “You side with it?


    “It has a point,” said Jace mildly. “I''m not entirely sure I could stop him if he wanted to do you damage. Werewolves heal so fast.”


    Valentine''s lip curled. “So,” he spat, “like your mother, you prefer this creature, this half-breed demon thing, to your own blood, your own


    family?”


    For the first time the sword in Jace''s hand seemed to tremble. “You left me when I was a child,” he said in a measured voice. “You let me


    think you were dead and you sent me away to live with strangers. You never told me I had a mother, a sister. You left me alone.” The word


    was a cry.


    “I did it for you—to keep you safe,” Valentine protested


    “If you cared about Jace, if you cared about blood, you wouldn''t have killed his grandparents. You murdered innocent people.” ry cut in,


    furious.


    “Innocent?” snapped Valentine. “No one is innocent in a war! They sided with Jocelyn against me! They would have let her take my son


    from me!"


    Luke let out a hissing breath. “You knew she was going to leave you,” he said. “You knew she was going to run, even before the Uprising?”


    “Of course I knew!” roared Valentine. His icy control had cracked and ry could see the molten rage seething underneath, coiling the


    tendons in his neck, clenching his hands into fists. “I did what I had to to protect my own, and in the end I gave them more than they ever


    deserved: the funeral pyre awarded only to the greatest warriors of the ve!”


    “You burned them,” said ry tly.


    “Yes!” shouted Valentine. “I burned them.”


    Jace made a strangled noise. "My grandparents—"


    “You never knew them,” said Valentine. “Don’t pretend to a grief you do not feel.”


    The point of the sword was trembling more rapidly now. Luke put a hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Steady,” he said


    Jace didn''t look at him. He was breathing as if he had been running. ry could see the sweat shimmering on the sharp divide of his


    corbones, sticking his hair to his temples. The veins were visible along the backs of his hands. He’s going to kill him, she thought. He’s


    going to kill Valentine.


    She stepped forward hastily. “Jace—we need the Cup. Or you know what he''ll do with it.”


    Jace licked his dry lips. "The Cup, Father. Where is it?”


    “In Idris,” said Valentine calmly. “Where you will never find it.”


    Jace''s hand was shaking. “Tell me—”


    “Give me the sword, Jonathan.” It was Luke, his voice calm, even kind.


    Jace sounded as if he were speaking from the bottom of a well. “What?


    ry took a step forward. “Give Luke the sword. Let him have it, Jace.


    He shook his head. “I can’t do that.


    She took another step forward; one more, and she’d be close enough to touch him. “Yes, you can,” she said gently. “Please.”


    He didn’t look at her. His eyes were locked on his father''s. The moment stretched out and out, interminable. Atst he nodded, curtly,


    without lowering his hand. But he did let Luke move to stand beside him, and ce his hand over Jace’s, on the hilt of the de. “You can


    let go now, Jonathan,” Luke said—and then, seeing ry’s face, amended himself. “Jace.”


    Jace seemed not to have heard him. He released the hilt and moved away from his father. Some of Jace’s color hade back, and he


    was now a shade more like putty, his lip bloody where he''d bitten it. ry ached to touch him, put her arms around him, knew he''d never


    let her.


    “I have a suggestion,” said Valentine to Luke, in a surprisingly even tone.


    “Let me guess,” said Luke. “It''s ‘Don’t kill me,’ isn’t it?”


    Valentineughed, a sound without any humor in it. “I would hardly lower myself to ask you for my life,” he said.


    “Good,” said Luke, nudging the other man''s chin with his de. “I’m not going to kill you unless you force my hand, Valentine. I draw the


    line at murdering you in front of your own children. What I want is the Cup.”


    The roaring downstairs was louder now. ry could hear what sounded like footsteps in the corridor outside. “Luke—


    “I hear it,” he snapped


    “The Cup’s in Idris, I told you,” said Valentine, his eyes shifting past Luke


    Luke was sweating. ‘If it''s in Idris, you used the Portal to bring it there. I''ll go with you. Bring it back.” Luke’s eyes were darting. There was


    more movement in the corridor outside now, sounds of shouting, of something shattering. “ry, stay with your brother. After we go


    through. you use the Portal to take you to a safe ce.”


    “I won''t leave here,” said Jace.


    “Yes, you will.” Something thudded against the door. Luke raised his voice. “Valentine, the Portal. Move.


    “Or what?” Valentine''s eyes were fixed on the door with a considering look.


    “LIL kill you if you force my hand,” Luke said. “In front of them, or not. The Portal, Valentine. Now."


    Valentine spread his hands wide. “If you wish.


    He stepped lightly backward, just as the door exploded inward, hinges scattering across the floor. Luke ducked out of the way to avoid


    being crushed by the falling door, turning as he did so, the sword still in his hand


    Awolf stood in the doorway, a mountain of growling. brindled fur, shoulders hunched forward, lips curled back over snarling teeth. Blood


    ran from innumerable gashes in his pelt.


    Jace was swearing softly. a seraph de already in his hand. ry caught at his wrist. “Don''t—he’s a friend.”


    Jace shot her an incredulous nce, but lowered his arm.


    “ric—” Luke shouted something then, in anguage ry didn’t understand. ric snarled again, crouching closer to the floor, and for a


    confused moment she thought he was going to hurl himself at Luke. Then she saw Valentine''s hand at his belt. the sh of red jewels, and


    realized that she had forgotten that he still had Jace’s dagger.


    She heard a voice shout Luke’s name, thought it was her own—then realized that her throat seemed glued shut, and that it was Jace who


    had shouted


    Luke slewed around, excruciatingly slowly, it seemed, as the knife left Valentine’s hand and flew toward him like a silver butterfly, turning


    over and over in the air. Luke raised his de—and something huge and tawny gray hurtled between him and Valentine. She heard ric’s


    howl, rising, suddenly cut off; heard the sound as the de struck. She gasped and tried to run forward, but Jace pulled her back.


    The wolf crumpled at Luke''s feet, blood spattering his fur. Feebly, with his paws. ric wed at the hilt of the knife protruding from his


    chest.


    Valentineughed. “And this is how you repay the unquestioning loyalty you bought so cheaply, Lucian,” he said. “By letting them die for you.” He was


    backing up. his eyes still on Luke.


    Luke, white-faced, looked at him,


    and then down at ric; shook his


    head once, and dropped to his


    knees, leaning’ over the fallen


    werewolf, Jace, still holding ry by.


    the shoulders, hissed, ‘Stay here,


    you hea? me? Stay here,” and set off


    aftecValentine, who was hurrying,


    inexplicably, toward the farawall. Did


    H@ n to throw himself.gut the


    window? ry could see his


    reflection in the big, gold-framed


    mirror as he neared it, and the


    expression on his face—a sort of


    sneering relief—filled her with a


    murderous rage.


    “Like hell I will.” she muttered, moving to follow Jace. She paused only to grab the blue-hilted kindjal from the floor beneath the table, where Valentine


    had kicked it. The weapon in her hand feltfortable now, reassuring, as she pushed a fallen chair out of her way and approached the mirror.


    Jace had the seraph de out, its


    light casting ahard illumination


    upward, darkéning the circles under


    his eyes, the hollows of his cheeks.


    Valentine Had turned and stood ~


    outlinessin its light, his back against


    the mirror. In its surface ry-Could


    alsa 8 See Luke behind themte had


    set his sword down, and was pulling


    the red-hilted kindjal out Of ric''s


    chest, gently and carefully. She felt


    sick and gripped her own de


    more tightly. “Jace—” she began.


    He didn’t turn to look at her, though of course he could see her in the mirror’s reflection. “ry, I told you to wait.”


    “She''s like her mother,” said Valentine. One of his hands was behind him: he was running it along the edge of the mirror’s heavy gilt frame. “Doesn''t


    like to do what she’s told.”


    Jace wasn’t shaking as he had been earlier, but ry could sense how thin his control had been stretched, like the skin over a drum. “I''ll go with him


    to Idris, ry. I''ll bring the Cup back.”


    “No, you can''t,” ry began, and saw, in the mirror, how his face twisted.


    “Do you have a better idea?” he demanded


    “But Luke—”


    “Lucian,” said Valentine in a voice like silk, “is attending to a fallenrade. As for the Cup, and Idris, they are not far. Through the looking ss, one


    might say.”


    Jace''s eyes narrowed. “The mirror is the Portal?”


    Valentine''s lips thinned and he


    ropped his hand, moving back from


    the mirror ashe I image in it swirled


    nd changedlike watercolors .


    unning iA’a painting. Instead of the”


    room with its dark wood and <>


    candles, now ry could see.creen


    fields; the thick emerald leaves of


    tees, and a wide meadow-sweeping


    down to arge stone hotise in the


    distance. She could hear the buzzing


    sound of bees and the rustle of


    leaves in wind, and smell the


    honeysuckle carried on the wind.


    cal


    = o&


    “I told you it was not far.” Valentine stood in what was now a gilt-arched doorway, his hair stirring in the same wind that ruffled the leaves on the


    distant trees. “Is it as you remember it, Jonathan? Has nothing changed?’


    ry’s heart clenched inside her chest. She had no doubt this was Jace’s childhood home, presented to tempt him as you might tempt a child with


    candy or a toy. She looked toward Jace, but he didn’t seem to see her at all. He was staring at the Portal, and the view beyond it of the green fields


    and the manor house. She saw his face soften, the wistful curve of his mouth. as if he were looking at someone he loved.


    “You can stille home.” said his father. The light from the seraph de that Jace held threw his shadow backward so it seemed to move across


    the Portal, darkening the bright fields, the meadow beyond.Content ? provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    The smile faded from Jace''s mouth. “That''s not my home,” he said. “This is my home now.”


    A spasm of fury twisting his features, Valentine looked at his son. She would never forget that look—it made her feel a sudden wild longing for her


    mother. Because no matter how angry her mother had been with her, Jocelyn had never looked at her like that. She had always looked at her with


    love.


    If she could have felt more pity for Jace than she already did, she would have felt it then.


    “Very well,” said Valentine, and took a swift step back through the Portal so that his feet struck the earth of Idris. His lips curved into a smile. “Ah,” he


    said, “home.


    Source:


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    by


    Articles you may like


    Ads by