City of Shadows

Chapter 25: Grasping the Rose Thorn

It was another disturbingly quiet day in Manhattan. The remaining residents of the New York Institute were huddled together in a booth at Taki's, perusing the menu. There had been an incident with a random group of Crouchers earlier in the morning. It had been easy enough to get rid of them, but as much as they tried to tie it back to Jaakobah, it had been impossible to. Jace had been left with a combination of frustration and disappointment, and Alec had suggested going to grab breakfast afterwards. One stop at the Institute and another at Magnus's apartment, and here they were.

Rowan had joined them and was looking around the place in curious wonder and confusion, a menu held loosely in his hands. Luckily for him, Clary noted, there was no sign of Kaelie today, no Seelie to inform the Queen of his whereabouts. Regardless, he looked uncomfortable in the pants, vest, and coat he wore, stylish pieces of clothing that suspiciously seemed similar to Magnus's clothes. Clary supposed he let the faerie borrow his clothes, as he was the most similar to him in build and frame.

"Where's Magnus?" she asked, setting down her menu. "Is he meeting us later?"

"He had a job to do. I don't know how long he'll take," Alec responded without looking up from his own menu. His blue eyes studied her briefly, already recognizing the question forming in her own eyes. "And before you ask, Max is with Catarina."

"And how are you, Rowan?" she asked, directing her attention to the faerie. His yellow eyes snapped to hers as soon as she spoke, attentive. "How are you adjusting to this realm?"

"It is...difficult at times," he responded. "And strange. Alexander and Magnus have been a great help, but sometimes I fear I overstay my welcome."

"Nonsense," Alec said. "You can stay as long as you need."

Rowan inclined his head, a look of appreciation on his face. "I am thankful, but I will only remain until the time to fight comes."

"I don't think you'll be staying much longer then."

Everybody looked up at the sound of Jace's voice. His face was set in an unreadable expression. He was still as stone, and his tawny eyes were locked on Rowan. "You knew."

Rowan's eyes clouded in confusion. "I am afraid I do not understand—"

"You knew Jaakobah was my brother," Jace said in a low voice. "Why didn't you tell me outright?"

"Would you have believed me?" Rowan returned. When Jace didn't answer, he shook his head. "No, you had to realize the truth yourself. It was the only way for you to be convinced. You are a perceptive one, Jace Herondale. I knew the truth would not remain hidden from you for long."

Jace's hand curled into a fist. Clary placed her hand over his, and he slowly relaxed under her touch, until his muscles relaxed and his fingers were splayed wide once again.

"It was not my intention to harm you," Rowan said gently. "If I have in any way, I offer my deepest apologies."

His fingers curled around Clary's. His eyes, which had been burning bright and hot as heavenly fire, lessened in intensity. "It's alright."

"How are you dealing with that, by the way?" Alec asked, finally lowering his menu. "Knowing there's been someone else out there like you all this time."

Jace stiffened. "He's not like me. I'm not like him."

"You know that's not what I meant," said Alec. He brushed a wisp of black hair away from his eyes. "The truth of the matter is Jaakobah is Stephen Herondale's son. He's your brother—half brother, anyway. That's gotta mean something, right?"

"All I know," Jace said, measuring his words carefully, "—is he's waging war on my people, my home. I won't hesitate to fight against him, or to fight him directly if it comes to it." His fingers tightened their hold on Clary's, and he lifted his gaze to Alec's, dark blue to hardened gold. "The truth of the matter, Alec, is that I don't know him. You and Jonathan are more my brothers than Jaakobah will ever be. He might as well remain a stranger."