Prologue

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"Brother Enoch," said Maryse, rising from behind her desk. "Thank you for joining me and Brother Zachariah here on such short notice."

Is this in regards to Jace? Zachariah inquired, and if Maryse had not known better, she would have imagined a tinge of anxiety in his mental voice. I have checked in on him several times today. His condition has not changed.

Enoch shifted within his robes. And I have been looking through the archives and the ancient documentation on the topic of Heaven's fire. There is some information about the manner in which it may be released, but you must be patient. There is no need to call on us. Should we have news, we will call on you.

"This is not about Jace," said Maryse, and she moved around the desk, her heels clicking on the stone floor of the library. "This is about something else entirely." She glanced down. A rug had been carelessly tossed across the floor, where no rug usually rested. It did not lie flat but was draped over an irregular humped shape. It obscured the delicate pattern of tiles that outlined the shape of the Cup, the Sword, and the Angel. She reached down, took hold of a corner of the rug, and yanked it aside.

The Silent Brothers did not gasp, of course; they could make no sound. But a cacophony filled Maryse's mind, the psychic echo of their shock and horror. Brother Enoch took a step back, while Brother Zachariah raised one long-fingered hand to cover his face, as if he could block his ruined eyes from the sight before him.

"It was not here this morning," said Maryse. "But when I returned this afternoon, it awaited me."

At the very first glimpse she had thought that some kind of large bird had found its way into the library and died, perhaps breaking its neck against one of the tall windows. But as she had moved closer, the truth of what she was looking at had dawned on her. She said nothing of the visceral shock of despair that had gone through her like an arrow, or the way she had staggered to the window and been sick out of it the moment she'd realized what she was looking at.

A pair of white wings—not quite white, really, but an amalgamation of colors that shifted and flickered as she looked at it: pale silver, streaks of violet, dark blue, each feather outlined in gold. And then, there at the root, an ugly gash of sheared-off bone and sinew. Angel's wings—angel's wings that had been sliced from the body of a living angel. Angelic ichor, the color of liquid gold, smeared the floor.

Atop the wings was a folded piece of paper, addressed to the New York Institute. After splashing water on her face, Maryse had taken the letter and read it. It was short—one sentence—and was signed with a name in a handwriting oddly familiar to her, for in it there was the echo of Valentine's cursive, the flourishes of his letters, the strong, steady hand. But it was not Valentine's name. It was his son's.

Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern.

She held it out now to Brother Zachariah. He took it from her fingers and opened it, reading, as she had, the single word of Ancient Greek scrawled in elaborate script across the top of the page.

Erchomai, it said.

I am coming.

"It's looks like you finally saw Jonathan's package for you" A sharp voice said from behind. The three of them were supsrised when they suddenly heard her. Maryse turned around and was shocked to see a woman around the age of nineteen, standing in the middle of the library.

Maryse straightened her posture and stared at the girl. "Who are you and what are you doing in here?"

The girl chuckled, "Not a best way to welcome a guest huh?"

"You're not any of our guest." Alec's mother said. "Tell me? Are you one of Clary's new friends?"

The woman in the middle made her way towards them, the heels of her black pumps clicking on the cold pavement, "Not at all."

Maryse, Brother Jeremiah said through her mind, The girl has a very strange mixture of blood, She is a Nephilim, werewolf, vampire, warlock and Faerie.

"I asked you didn't I?" Maryse asked, "Who are you." She pointed a finger at the girl infront of her.

"Alessandra," the woman said, "Alessandra Herondale."

"Liar" The older woman snapped, "Stephen didn't have any children asides from Jace."

"That's what they always thought," The girl mumbled to herself.

Maryse tilted her head to the side, "Unless," She said, "Who are your parents?"

"Stephen Herondale and Marylinda Starkweather" Alessandra said, "I was abandoned as soon as I was born and I was raised by Valentine." She paused, "If you ought to know."

Maryse gasped, "No" she whispered.

"Oh yes" The woman whispered back, her left hand trailed along Maryse's neck. She can feel Maryse tense at her actions. While her left hand trailed along the double sided seraph blade tucked in her back, She secured her grip on the handle before she said, "Hanael."

Maryse was confused at first until Alessandra tightened her grip on Maryse's neck. The woman tried to scream but Alessandra pressed something in her neck to stop her from collecting her voice. The silent brothers tried to do something but they were outpaced with the nineteen year old girl and before they could even run for help, Hanael sliced through their neck. Maryse couldn't do anything, all she did was stare as Alessandra decapitate the brothers in horror. The heads of the silent Brothers fell in the floor with a thud. She tried to kick at Alessandra but the girl was stronger. She lessen the tightness of her grip when she realized that Maryse was turning blue. She directly took a deep breath as soon as she was released a little.

She dropped Hanael at the floor while Maryse just stared at her in confusion. She just smirked before the mother felt pressure on her chest. She looked down and saw Alessandra's hand buried in her chest. The girl twisted her hand making Maryse spit blood. Her legs started to weaken and Alessandra lowered her whilst pulling her bloody hand out. She gently laid her body on the wall.

"The Morgenstern ring," Maryse was able to breath out.

Alessandra started to walk away but she paused on the doorway and turned. "You were asking who I am earlier right?" She asked. "My whole name is Alessandra Herondale-Morgenstern,"

"I'm Jonathan's wife."

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A/N: Pic of Alessandra at the side :)

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