The Rise Of The Morningstar (Eng. Version)

Chapter 18 - Interrogation

Chapter 18 – Interrogation

In one graceful movement, the Inquisitor stepped behind the podium and raised her left hand. She had her pale lips pressed into a thin line and her hair fell over her shoulders in an elaborate coiffure. Her raised arm revealed a leather strap on her hip, from which not just one but three daggers hung.

The whisperings of the Shadowhunters gradually faded until they finally fell silent and the last of them took their places. I watched the Consul take a seat on the left throne, giving me an almost sardonic look. I immediately turned my head to the Inquisitor. Her eyes were already on me as if she had been waiting for me. She pointed to the bench next to the podium. "Clarissa, please sit down there." Her words were phrased like a request, but the tone of her voice left no doubt that it was an order. A few hours ago it hadn't been quite that cold.

As I sat down on the uncomfortable, hard bench, I eyed the Inquisitor sideways. Hardly anything about her resembled Jace except for the hard look in her eyes. I wondered what her son must have looked like. He was the reason she tried to punish me with that callous look.

Heart pounding, I scanned the crowd that stretched from my left to my right and seemed to encircle me. The Nephilim were everywhere, staring down at me like they were going to rip me apart any second. Some of them swore in whispers that I couldn't understand. But still others spoke loud on purpose that I could understand every word. Traitor. Murderer. The right punishment is death.

I tried to ignore them. It wouldn't do me any good to indulge in their harassment anyway. The blood in my veins was already racing so fast that I could hardly hear anything. I unobtrusively lowered my head and looked down at my hands. I had them folded in my lap. My fingertips were trembling so violently that I had to interlace my fingers to keep the crowd from enjoying my fear. My red hair fell in neat strands over my shoulders and tickled the back of my neck. Why didn't they think of Jocelyn instead of Valentine when they saw me? Nephilim are like humans, they only ever see the negative, they will always miss the good in you.

My stomach lurched when I spotted the Lightwoods in one of the front rows of seats. Maryse whispered something into the ear of a broad-shouldered man with brown hair. I had never seen him before, but he made me think of the boys in the Lightwood family portrait. It had to be Robert Lightwood. Sitting next to them were Isabelle, Jace, and even Alec, who still looked battered. One couldn't blame him, after all less than 24 hours had passed since his release from the Basilias. I had never met Max Lightwood either, but he looked so much like his parents that I recognized him immediately. He was about ten years old and wore black glasses that slipped down his nose a little. His fingers curled around the hem of Jace's cloak and he looked puzzled. His dark eyes studied me curiously, without a trace of disgust or fear. He looked completely out of place among all the angry Nephilim.

The sight of him almost made me smile if it weren't for Jace sitting next to him, scowling down at me. Something twinkled in his eyes, maybe he was still mad about what had happened in the library or he just saw this as my punishment because he wanted me dead anyway. When he realized that we were staring at each other, he looked away.

On the left side of the room, a few rows up, I spotted Adam. Or rather, he let me spot him, because he gestured conspicuously with his hands, so that I immediately noticed his movements in the corner of my eye. A slight smile graced his lips. I wanted nothing else but to answer the smile, but the corners of my mouth suddenly felt so incredibly heavy that it seemed almost impossible to ever smile again.

Adam could see the agony on my face as his smile slowly faded from his features. Instead, he gave a short nod and dropped his hands. Adam had told me several times in the past about his siblings and the responsibilities he often had as the eldest. All three sat next to him, arranged according to their height. The smallest of them, a boy who couldn't have been more than five, had rested his head against Adam's side and dozed off. A warm feeling spread through my heart and somehow I managed a tiny smile.