«——— CHAPTER THREE———»
FIELD TRIP
THE SOFT KNOCKS ON THE bedroom door went unheard beneath the music that played from the record player that spun a track in the corner.
Stevie Nicks sang her heart out over the groovy music and Mayla was so entranced in her studies to notice that her bedroom door had opened.
She didn't notice the group that had snuck in, silently giggling at their plans. A hand tapped on her shoulder and she pulled herself away from her notes, spinning around in her chair.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"
Her family stood there. Jocelyn holding a cake with candles in her hands. Simon and Luke holding arms full of wrapped gifts as she started to harmonize the 'Happy birthday' tune, Simon adding in some advanced runs.
"Surprise!" Clary beamed.
Mayla got to her feet, pushing her chair away to look down at the... interesting cake. It had a messy crumb-coat and janky letters that read. "Happy Birthday, M!" With heart candies decorating the top of the cake.
She laughed. "Oh, my god! It's beautiful!"
Simon shrugged. "Clary and I learned the hard way that what you do isn't easy."
"Like at all." Clary chuckled.
"I love it."
Jocelyn held the cake up. Luke said to her. "Go on, make a wish."
Mayla closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She smiled for she blew out a soft breath. She opened her eyes and...
She was on a cold metal floor again. Resting her head between her knees, she hugged her legs form the cold. She had been given a room on board.
It had a window, a bed, and a table and chair in the corner. A lamp on her bedside. It was a pathetic cold room. She had watched the sun set and rise all through the small circular window locked shut with a spell.
Mayla wanted to understand her father. What was the reason? Why was he doing this to her?
What did he expect? Did he think that he could just bring her on board, keep her locked up and hop back into her life?
She doesn't remember him. She only remembers what he did to her. The experimentations in a white room. The testing of what she could endure. Her body could handle a lot, her adolescent mind, not so much.
Those nightmares still haunt her. The room, that chair, that light. They still flash before her eyes in her sleep. She still wakes up in a cold sweat... just now she knows why. She knows where they come from, and who did that all to her.
Now she knew the man behind it and he expects her to accept him?
Her biggest concern was what he wanted out of this. If she didn't accept him. If she didn't choose Valentine, the Circle and use her powers for their cause... is she dead? Will he finish off what he tried so hard to do so many years ago?
That man with glowing hair may look at her like a loving father but how far does that love go? When will her fighting be enough? Does he only see her as the weapon he created her to be... because then she's screwed.
What do you do with a faulty weapon? You dispose of it.
The sound of the metal locks clicking and rattling from behind the heavily bolted door.
Valentine pushed her door open. She scrambled to her feet, her eyes watching him. She had nothing. She couldn't kill him. Maybe she could muster up some magic.
She held up her hands, readying a spell but nothing came. Her cold hands were numb to any magic... no colour coming from her silent incantations.
"Don't bother." He said, pointing at her. "There is no point. He took your ability to use that..." He grimaced. "Magic here."
Her hands rolled into fists. He nodded to the door.
"Come on... let me show you around."
Valentine showed the girl around the ship like she was a visitor on a cruise. He showed her the "zoo" of Downworlders he kept for his testing below deck... making a comment on how she was rightfully placed down there before the change of scenery.
She was then let out into the morning sun where the army of Shadowhunters below trained in rows on the main part of the import deck.
She was left out there on her own. They had told her how she wouldn't be able to jump, there was a spell cast around it, killing anyone who dared.
Mayla considered it... thinking taking her own life would be better than anything they are thinking of doing to her.
The New York City skyline was breathtaking from the boat. Her heart ached to be on land. It had only been a day since Mayla had kissed Alec goodbye and hopped into a portal thinking she was coming back to him.
Only been a day since she was jumped by a small militia, beaten to the ground, and pulled through a portal that tossed her right into the ocean. It felt longer.
Rusted and rotted, the ship was put back together with minimal effort, making it as practical as possible. It was rickety and ugly but had its purpose.
She rounded the observation decks and found Jace leaning on the railing, watching the hundreds of Shadowhunters training together on the main ship top. Valentine had the Mortal Cup and from the looks of it didn't waste anytime making Shadowhunters with it.
Valentine's army. His growing numbers.
Jace looked fine. He was okay. She walked and stood beside him, looking out at the city. She let out a deep breath to fill their thoughtful silence. "Do you think they're looking for us?"
He looked up, meeting her gaze but didn't speak so she continued at a whisper. "I think they are. They might not know I'm missing but Cameron will." She squinted at the sun shining in her eyes. "I tried reaching out, reactive my Parabatai rune. Useless over water, I know. But I'm trying."
More silence.
"I can't believe I won't be there to see him meet Alec, Izzy, and Clary..."
Jace shook his head, pushing himself off of the railing to stand straight. "Mayla... You shouldn't be here."
"Well, I am and I can't jump because..." "You'll fry like bacon."
She nodded as she chuckled. "Besides, I'm his weapon. He's not going to stop trying to get me on his side. His almighty Exodian Prophecy."
Jace spun around. "What?"
She turned to face him, heaving a sigh. "Lazarus is my father... he made me a Shadowhunter."
Jace blinked at her, in shock. "What?"
May bit back a smile, glad his attitude was still there. Valentine had told him not more than a couple of hours ago that he was a Shadowhunter experimented on with pure demon blood, Mayla knew that because the man mentioned during his hospitable tour. It may have shaken him, but he still kept that attitude she didn't mind seeing right now.
"It means you're standing in front of a divine being. Show some respect." A voice spoke darkly.
"Gah!" She jumped, turning around to find her father standing there. "Jesus Christ.... How did you get here so fast?"
Jace looked Lazarus up and down, seeing Mayla back away from him with a shuffle of her feet.
He stepped closer to Jace, dangerously close. "Didn't you hear me?" He placed a hand on his shoulder before magic flickered. "You should be kneeling."
A horrific scream erupted from him. He was force to his knees. Lazarus' talons dug into his shoulder, flooding his body with magic that burned from the inside.
"Stop!" She demanded. "Just stop!"
He didn't. Jace's screams reached Valentine, who was on the main dock. He saw his friend conjuring up something cruel, he stormed over to investigate.
"I said stop!" She demanded, shoving her father.
With a surge of power, she sent out a shock wave of green magic that launched him back. The glass windows on the walls shattered with what sounded like gunfire, making it rain on the metal floor. Lazarus landed hard on the ground, letting out a yelp of pain.
She froze, looking down at her hands. Her hands were bussing with TV static. Lazarus sat up, a wicked grin pulled his face wide. An astonishing look of admiration had the man scrambling to his feet.
Jace got to his feet. Valentine walked in too late. "What is going on here?"
"I'm just showing my daughter what she is."
May gazed at her shaking hands, wanting the power she felt in her fingers to fade. "Are you okay?" She asked Jace, who nodded despite his eyes staring down at her hands.
Valentine turned to Lazarus, pointing a finger in his face. "You keep your hands off my son."
Lazarus chuckled darkly, holding his hands up. He stumbled like a drunk man in front of a pub, a stupid smile on his face. He accomplished what he needed to.
Mayla looked down at her fingers. Her hands were surging with magic. It was like her nerves were dancing, tingling under the calloused skin, a glow lighting between the lines in her palms.
"You feel it? You feel that?" He cooed. "That's because you remember what I taught you now. Everything you know is not from some book but because I taught you."
She shook her head. She doesn't remember studying it. Sitting and leaning what era father claims but she knew it. She knew in her mind that it was there and that he had shown it to her. Her mind was just twisted, so warped from the spells that made her forget that she couldn't untangle what was a dream, nightmare or real.
"No..." she muttered. "I don't want to use that kind of magic."
"Too late."
Lazarus lifted his shirt, revealing the large burn her magic caused. Blistering red skin that she could hear sizzling from where she stood. It looked like it hurt... Lazarus didn't show any sign if it did.
"Woah..." Jace muttered.
Valentine shook his head, sending a look to his son. He was just telling Jace how demons can't control their urges, no matter how good they think they are.
It was all part of their plan. To get their children on their side they needed to play the board with a manipulative strategy. To have the weapons they had been building for years to join them.
It looked like it was working.
Mayla shook her head, her hair falling into her eyes. "No, no, no, no...."
She took a deep breath in, hoping to compose herself to show she wasn't affected by this. It didn't work. She stepped away once more before she spun on her heels and walked inside, getting away from everyone so she could calm herself down.
Valentine clicked his tongue. "You see, son? No matter how good they try to be... they can't help being who they are."
«—————»
That power was intoxicating, like a shot of espresso that shocked her system awake. And she had been asleep for a very long time. she inspected her hands as she sat on the mattress, locked in hr room once more. This time, she locked herself in.
Her hands rolled into fists and she shut her eyes, really longing for a moment with someone. A moment where she wasn't alone.
She missed her friends and her family. Clary, Simon, Alec-- they're out there and she's not there with them.
She lied. She was wrong. She told Izzy she could handle this Exodian Prophecy crap on her own because she had the Clave watching her, she had Magnus teaching the way right way to things... but of course, her stupid need to do things on her own bit her in the butt.
Now what? No one truly knows who her dad is. No one knows where she is... Whether she is alive. She wondered if maybe her loved ones think she was dead. Maybe they're so eager in finding Jace that forgot about her. Accepted that maybe she is dead.
"No... " She muttered, shaking the thought of her head. Telling herself off. "They wouldn't do that."
She brought her fists to her lips, letting out a shaky breath. "They're looking..."
Suddenly, the large hatch on her door clicked with an echo, making her jump. She slid off the bed quickly, putting up her guard.
Lazarus walked in, peeking his head through the door, knocking gently before caring in a tray of food. A plate of spaghetti and a glass of water.
It filled her room with the sweet smell of tomato sauce and basil. It made her throat close, and her mouth water. quickly, she realized she was starving for some food.
She sat back down on her bed, ignoring the warlock who left the door open and placed the tray on the table next to the door. "I thought that you would want some dinner."
"I'm not hungry." She lied.
He scoffed. "We both know that's a lie. If I remember correctly you have quite the appetite."
She didn't look up. "Well, I guess your memory is a little jagged from old age." She muttered.
Lazarus sighed, walking over and sitting down on the bed beside her, not once, no matter how hard he tried, did he get his daughter's eyes to look up for her shaking hands.
"I'm only 642 years old, Mayla. I know many men older than me."
"You mean warlocks? Your people?" She asked.
He nodded. "Yes. Warlocks."
"Downworlders, you're so eager to kill?"
"No."
"No? The last time I checked, the Circle, this cause Valentine stands for, believes that all Downworlders should be killed. A genocide to cleanse this world or some bullshit like that."
Lazarus laughed a laugh of a crazy man. It was high-pitched, squeaky, and uncontrolled. It made Mayla's skin crawl.
"Oh, hun. How little you know..."
"Please, enlighten me." She snapped sarcastically, finally looking up to meet her father's gaze. She recognized his eyes as ones she often saw in the mirror. She hated that she had his eyes.
"I don't want them dead." He admitted. "Not all of them. They're not even worth the effort of killing them when we can rule them."
"We?"
"Don't you understand the power you hold? The control you have over the Downworld? You are their voice. Their saviour. You are destined to protect them. This gives you the power to control them."
"That's insane."
"Maybe. But it's a vision. A dream where you and you're almighty power cleanse the Downworld. Dispose of the dirty and rule the worthy."
"By the angel..." She muttered. She turned to look at him. "You're hearing yourself right? You do hear how crazy you sound?"
He looked at her with a deranged look, praise, enchantment... Like a God. Some higher power that he prayed to. It was unnerving. He wasn't looking to control her. He was looking to give her the power... even if she didn't want it.
He got up, walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders. "It's not crazy, my little warrior! It's not impossible. You just need to see to understand."
Mayla shrugged her father's hands off of her. She turned for the open door. Maybe she can take a long walk around the ship, give the man the chance to take his meds, maybe take a nap and get his head on straight.
"Please, Mayla, my dear." He brought up his hands to try and lovingly cup her face, she swatted them away. "Just let me show you something tonight. Give you the chance to understand."
"No!" She snapped. "Don't you understand that I don't want to be here!? I don't care to know you. I don't care about this cause and I will never be on your side!"
Lazarus ran his tongue over his teeth bitterly, a morphing vein in his temple was the only true sign of his frustration. He stalked over, taking a hold of her arms, pinning her in place, her feet solid on the ground.
"You... are beyond sides! This war is nothing more than a feud you are meant to vanquish. You, Mayla. You are meant to save us all. Both angels and demons, good and bad. The world isn't black and white."
"Yes, it is." She muttered, struggling to break free from the spell that tied her feet to the floor. "My friends... are good." She raised her hand, waving it with a flick, snapping herself free from her magic restraints. "Even the Clave is doing the best they can... but you. You and Valentine and the Circle have a twisted idea of peace, a twisted idea of heroism. And I will never be a part of it."
Her anger was pooling in her chest, lighting it on fire. She stepped back. A surprised look on Lazarus' face when he found that his magic didn't hold her still.
"And no matter what memories you think you can bring back or what games you play with my mind. I won't ever, ever see you as anything more than a pathetic man, grasping at a chance for power."
She turned away from him and the good meal that could probably stop her spinning mind and rumbling stomach and found sanctuary above deck, where the sun was setting and every Shadowhunter that saw her stared as she walked by.
So much for sanctuary.
She leaned on the railing, looking out at the horizon. The sun had started to set... it had been a whole day and nothing from the outside world.
She hoped that her attempts to activate her parabatai bond had gotten to Cameron. Affected him the same it did her. She had it inked on her skin again and she hopes that it would be enough to bring her back to him.
Her hand softly rubbed on the arm, rubbing the warm fabric of her shirt onto the rune. She heard footsteps approaching.
"Look at you. An eager one." Valentine spoke, making her grumble. She turned around to face him, seeing as Jace followed behind him.
Mayla furrowed her brow, seeing as they were readying themselves to go out somewhere. "What do want from me?"
"A field trip. Your father didn't tell you?"
She shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere with him."
"Then come with us." Valentine offered.
Jace took a step forward. "You leave her out of this."
"She can make her own decisions. Let her decide." Valentine spoke, turning to her.
Mayla looked out at the city... at the land, she would be on. Maybe he put some kind of restrictive spell on her magic... but Cameron would be able to find her if she even stepped foot on solid ground. If she got off the water they could track her.
"You sure you want a filthy warlock mutt tagging along? I thought I was below you."
Valentine's expression shifted a small smirk on his lips. "You're more than that, Mayla. We both know that."
Jace shook his head subtly behind his father, giving her a look that told her to say no. He obviously didn't clue in on the advantage of being on land.
Alec and Cameron... she had no doubt they were looking for them. This is what they would need to find them.
"Sure. Who would say no to a field trip?"
Valentine smiled wickedly, rubbing his hands together.
"Fantastic. I'll go get your father."
It seemed like the whole world was looking for the supposed criminals. The Clave and every Shadowhunter in the institute had been tracking them down with the little they had. A military of hunters ready to take them on.
Jocelyn Fairchild had her son's glove tight in her hand, trying to track the boy she had believed to be dead for years.
Alec was with Magnus in his apartment, ready to inflict pain on himself in hopes of finding his brother out there somewhere.
Cameron sat in the greenhouse of the institute, trying everything in his power to get his best friend back. His hand clutched onto one of her favourite band t-shirts.
There was a witch hunt. And all it took was for them to step onto the wet streets of New York for it to begin.