August 2016
The ruins of Chernobyl echoes in silence around them as a very not-dead Michael Wayland stares back at them in utter shock. There's a few moments where no one dares to breathe, to move, to blink, in case the startling moment fractures. But in the end, it's Jace's voice that breaks, "Dad?"
"Son." Michael sighs, before pulling his son into a bear hug, his fragile arms wrapping around Jace in an embrace so sudden it makes the Shadowhunter's balance falter for a little bit before he hugs his father back, "Oh, Jace. I can't believe it." As the older man pulls back to inspect Jace's face, his face pales, eyes catching onto the wound still open on Jace's neck, "Son, you're hurt. How did you find me?"
"You're dead." Jace rasps out, his eyes filled with tears, "Valentine killed you." He looks around the room with scrutiny, "Valentine's here."
"No, Jace. It's me." Michael smiles, before his eyes turn to Clary and her, "I'm Michael Wayland. I'm Jace's father. Look, I know what Jace told you, but I've been here for seven years. Valentine took off and left me."
"And Jocelyn Fairchild?" Clary's tone wavers, bordering on hopeful.
"He took her with him." Her face falls as Michael answers, "You are?"
"I'm Clary, her daughter." Clary swallows, visibly anxious, "Meliorn, the Seelie, told me that he was here with her."
Michael then looks at her, and Maya pauses, something instinctual tell her to choose her words carefully, "I'm Maya, a . . . friend of Jace's."
The aforementioned blond's eyes snap to her in confusion, but before he can raise his trademark eyebrow, Jace's body shudders and he jolts, hand flying to the wound on his neck. "Jace, no!" Clary runs to his side as he groans in pain, looking up at Michael in alarm, "It's Ravener venom. He kept telling me he was all right—"
"We have to find your father, not my father." Jace gasps out, gritting his teeth, "Valentine's..." He doubles over in pain, groaning louder this time.
"His stele. Where is it?" Michael desperately searches Jace's jacket, but as soon as his hand catches onto the ace of cups card that Clary gave to Jace for safekeeping earlier, the redhead snatches it from him, pocketing the card herself.
"Back pocket." Clary raises her eyebrows, reminding him.
"Back pocket." Michael sighs, and Maya's brows knit together as she sees a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, "Got it." He pulls out the stele and lifts up Jace's shirt, tracing the metal apparatus over the iratze on his ribs, but the rune barely flickers as Jace winces from the burn, the wound refusing to heal.
"What's wrong?" Clary looks at Michael in confusion.
"The rune is weak." Michael sighs, "I don't think he'll stay awake for long."
"The venom's spreading, " Maya sighs, "We need to get him to the hospital."
"But the portal's closed" Clary looks at her anxiously.
"There's no need for that, " Michael butts in, just as Maya offers to make one, "Valentine's got a standing Portal. Let's go."
Maya raises an eyebrow as they walk down the hall, Jace heavily leaning on his father for support. She whispers to Clary, "He's interesting."
"Yeah, well, ten years of being experimented on might do that to you." Clary mutters.
"I guess, " Maya mutters, her wary eyes scanning his tall figure.
As Jace's head lolls on his shoulder, Michael grabs his son's face, desperate to help him stay conscious, "Hey, Jace, stay with me." He smiles, "Do you remember our first demon fight? We were way out past the Institute, way up at Kinshasa. You were only eight, but you were so brave. Do you remember what you said?"
" "I'm ready to die." " Jace rasps out, weakly.
"And then I said, "Sometimes it's as brave to live as it is to die." " Michael laughs, softly, "Do you remember?"
"I do." He smiles up at his father, who pulls him closer, holding up Jace's lean frame with his bulkier one.
"I know you guys are having a moment and all, " Maya interrupts, "But unless Jace prefers bleeding out on the site of a nuclear disaster, we need to find Valentine's portal."
"The warlock's right, " Michael reluctantly pulls back from his portal; He looks at Maya and Clary with determination, "Let's get going,"
The door of Jade Wolf flies open as the four of them rush in, Clary and Michael holding up Jace as Maya catches sight of Simon and Luke sitting at a table. "We need help!" Clary calls out.
Simon and Luke rush to them, but the vampire stops in his tracks as a ray of sunlight hits the ground, "Clary, what happened?"
"We thought we found Valentine, but he was already gone." She answers, panicked. Both of them quickly set Jace down in a booth and Luke's entire face changes as he catches sight of Michael.
"Michael Wayland?" His voice changes to one of shock.
"Valentine took my mother with him, " Clary explains, "but we found Jace's father."
"What?!" Simon sputters out, "I thought Valentine killed Jace's father."
"He tried." Michael rolls his eyes, "Hello, Lucian."
"This can't be." Luke looks like he's seen a ghost — well, an alive ghost, technically, "I thought I'd never see you again."
"I never thought I'd see anyone again." Michael smiles.
Luke's face changes as he catches sight of Jace, ""What happened?"
"Ravener demon got him, " Maya sighs, folding her arms over her chest, "The venom spread and my magic couldn't heal him. But if we take him to the Institute, they'll crucify all of us."
"Simon." Clary runs up to her friend, suddenly overcome with an idea, "Simon, there's gotta be some kind of blood at Hotel DuMort. Please, could you call Raphael and can you ask him?"
"Can you get some water?" Michael sighs, looking at Luke.
"I'll get some." The werewolf walks out.
"Calling won't work." Simon sighs, "We have to do this in person. My van is in the garage. You drive, I'll hide under a blanket to stay out of the sun, and there's underground parking in the hotel. Maya, " His gaze snaps to her, "You need to help us negotiate with Raphael."
"Me?!" Maya sputters, "Why?"
"He asked for you when you were gone." Simon rolls his eyes. "Your presence might help our case."
"But you're the vampire!" She sputters out, "Wouldn't he listen to you more?"
"Look, we don't have time, " Michael snaps, interrupting them, "Jace is getting weaker. You need to hurry."
"Alright, " Clary sighs. She walks up to Jace and combs back his hair from his forehead, "Jace, listen to me. I'm coming back. Please, just hang on."
"Clary?" He asks, weakly.
"I'll be back soon, " Clary sighs, "Simon, Maya, let's go."
"If you die on me, I'll make sure your hair's green at your funeral." Maya mutters to Jace under her breath as Clary pulls her out the door.
The opulent lobby of the hotel Du Mort greets them as the three of them walk through the door. "Why can't we just take what we need and leave?" Clary questions.
"If we were transfusing goat blood, no problem." Simon sighs, "But human blood, that's against the Accords."
"I doubt interdimensional travel is legal either, " Maya rolls her eyes.
"I'm surprised you know that much." Raphael's voice booms from behind them and Simon yelps, jumping violently before he catches sight of the ever-sarcastic vampire.
"Why do you keep doing that to me?" Simon groans.
"If you worked on controlling your enhanced senses, as you should, you wouldn't be surprised." Raphael raises a distasteful eyebrow once he turns his attention to Maya and Clary, "You really have to stop barging in here."
"Sorry, Raphael." Clary apologizes. She sighs, "We need blood."
"So I've heard. Human blood." He fixes them both with a sharp look, "Funny how those rules for Downworlders stop being such a big deal when you need our help."
Simon pulls Raphael back as he's about to walk away, speaking in a low voice, "Okay, listen. Last night, I bumped into Bernice." He sighs, "She overheard a couple of bridge and tunnel vamps gossiping about Camille."
"You said Camille took a leave of absence, right?" Raphael looks at him in confusion.
"Yeah. Yeah, yeah. They didn't care about that." Simon frowns, "They said she kept around a couple of humans. Apparently, she'd feed on them, but never went all the way. What are they called? Sub... submissives?"
A horrifying bell rings in Maya's head, "Subjugates?!" She spits out, shocked, "Camille has subjugates?!"
"Keep your voice down!!" Raphael hisses at her, his eyes flashing, "Horrible things. Even Camille got sick of them."
"Okay, so, they're gone. But keeping around human beings just to drain at cocktail hour, that's against the Accords." Simon's eyes light up with an idea, "Camille had a taste for the real stuff. I know from experience. She had to have something on ice."
"I'm sorry." Raphael scoffs, "If you want to tattle to the Clave about Camille draining humans, fine. I'm the new administration."
"Yeah." Simon glares at him, "You could probably get over on them with that line, but you weren't exactly an innocent bystander in my case."
"We agreed not to discuss that." Raphael's fists clench by his side as his voice hardens.
"Did we?" Simon's tone drips with sarcasm, "Funny, I can't really remember. Hey, did you ever tell the Clave what Camille did to me?"
"You can't." He looks shocked at the mention, "I'd be implicated."
"Or you could, you know, give us the blood and eliminate the risk entirely." Maya shrugs, feigning nonchalance in her tone as she pretends to inspect her nails, "I don't think wilfully letting a Shadowhunter die will look good on your case."
"I can't believe you'd do this to me." He scoffs, "Blackmail."
"Oh, as if you haven't resorted to it before." Maya rolls her eyes at him.
"You're getting off easy." Simon snaps at him.
Raphael glares at all of them for a moment before turning to a painting on his right and turning the frame to to the left. The painting slides away to reveal a cabinet full of canisters of blood, each embalzoned with a different blood group. The vampire casually turns back to them, "What's his type?"
"O." Clary answers before Maya can. A tint of red appears on her cheeks as Maya raises an eyebrow in her direction, "Uh—universal donor." Raphael, seemingly nonplussed, hands her two canisters, "Thank you. Let's get going."
"Yeah, not so fast." Raphael grabs Simon, "I like the way you handled yourself in this negotiation. Stick around."
"I'm ambassador to the werewolves." Simon looks visibly nervous, "It's very time-consuming."
"Let me take that burden off of your shoulders." Raphael replies, smoothly, "As of now, you've been recalled. You're advisor to the interim chapter president." Simon sighs in distaste, "Don't complain." He gives Clary a perfunctory glance, "My new advisor has to stay here."
"It's okay." Simon sighs, "Just go. Really."
"Thank you." Clary kisses Simon on the cheek before giving Raphael a grateful look, "Both of you"
"You." Raphael looks at Maya, "Kid. A word?"
"What for?" Maya raises an eyebrow, then shrinks back at the icy look on Raphael's face, "Alright, alright, I'm coming!"
Raphael drags her down the hall, and they walk down a flight of stairs before stopping in front of a door. Maya rubs her arm as he shoves her in front of it, giving him a withering look, "I don't need another lecture about my alliances."
"Wasn't planning on one." Raphael rolls his eyes before his expression turns serious, "It's about Camille."
"What about her?" Maya shrugs, "Isn't she taking a vacation or something?"
"You could say that." Raphael sighs in distaste.
"What did you do?" Maya raises an eyebrow.
"None of your business, " Raphael snaps, "Look, I don't know what you did to her, but that woman has it out for you."
"That's not a surprise, " Maya rolls her eyes, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly well-liked."
"This is different." Raphael sighs, "The people who end up on bad terms with her have a habit of turning up as blood bags, or even worse — dead. You need to be careful."
"When am I not?" Maya shrugs.
"When you convinced the Seelies to throw you into an interdimensional portal in order to find Valentine, " Raphael rolls his eyes, "Meliorn talks."
"Whatever, " Maya rolls her eyes, "Look, can I just go now? Jace's life is in my hands."
"Actually . . . " Raphael sighs. He looks down at his watch, and Maya hears the sound of a car approaching, "The Uber's here. Go." He pushes her toward the door.
"Go?" Maya scoffs, "Go where?!"
"Magnus's." Raphael rolls his eyes, "That man is worried sick about you. He's been hounding me with calls for the past day."
"You can't just send me off whenever it's convenient for you!!" Maya sputters, "Why do you even care about my safety? Don't you hate my guts?"
"Not where Magnus is concerned. Besides, considering your current predicament — " He looks down at her with distaste, "— You need some sort of a father figure to keep you in check."
"Aren't you an orphan?" Maya scoffs.
"And yet I never ran around the city with my idiotic friends and tried to assassinate myself in order to find a bald, trigger-happy megalomaniac, " He covers his face with his suit sleeve before yanking open the door and shoving Maya out into the sunlight, "Be gone."
"This is child endangerment!" Maya yells out, as Raphael slams the door in her face.
"You didn't answer your phone—"
"Magnus—"
"You disappeared to Chernobyl —"
"I can explain—"
"You broke a Seelie out of the City of Bones—"
"To save his life—"
"You pissed off everyone at the Clave—"
"For a good reason—"
"And now—"
"Michael Wayland is alive!!" Maya screams, just as Magnus shouts, "Your mother's on her way here!!"
There's a pregnant pause in which they both look at each other with wide, shocked, eyes. Magnus sputters out, "What did you just say?!"
"What did I say?!" Maya stutters, "What did you just say?! My mother is coming back to New York?"
"Day after tomorrow, " Magnus rubs his temple, jaw clenching, "We're all going to have hell to pay. But don't try to change the subject. Michael Wayland is alive?!"
"We found him in the lab the portal took us to." Maya sighs, swallowing the lump in her throat, "Apparently Valentine imprisoned him for ten years."
"And Valentine wasn't there?" Magnus raises an eyebrow.
"Seems that way," Maya sighs.
"Interesting." Magnus muses, "Seems awfully convenient if you ask me."
"Wait . . " Something drops in Maya's chest, "When I said we needed to pick up the pace, he said 'The warlock's right.'" She looks up at him, her heart thudding in fear, "But I never told him I was one."
Magnus's face pales for a split second, but before he can open his mouth to answer, a knock sounds from the door. Alec's voice sounds from the door, his tone urgent, "Magnus? Are you home?"
"Hide!!" The older warlock hisses, grabbing Maya's arm, "He can't know you're here."
"What?!" Maya sputters, as quietly as she can, "Why?!"
"Just trust me, " Magnus pushes her behind a painted screen, "And stay silent."
"Magnus?!" Alec calls again from the door and the warlock's head whips in his direction.
"Coming!" Magnus pushes his coiffed hair back and lifts a finger to his lips before opening the door, leaning against the frame as casually as he can, "Tired of bickering over the guest list for your wedding?"
"I need to ask you something." Alec steps inside, brushing past him.
"Hmm." Magnus muses, turning around and putting his hands on his hips, "Will it take long? I have a life to live, " He glances over to the screen for a second, "And there's not much for us to talk about."
"It's not about me, or any of that." Alec clears his throat, "This is about my sister."
Magnus walks over to the nearby bar cart and pours himself a glass of whiskey, "Oh, I see. Are you referring to the fact that your adorable fiancée has Isabelle on trial for treason?"
Maya's heart stops. No. No no no no no no — what has she done?!
Magnus sits down on a nearby couch, "What can I do for you, Alec?"
"My sister wants you to be her defense attorney. I said I would ask." Alec sighs, "But I'm sorry to bother you. I know a Downworlder can't defend a Shadowhunter in court."
"But a Shadowhunter accused of a crime can choose any advocate." Magnus raises an eyebrow.
"That can't mean a Downworlder." Alec scoffs, and Maya feels that irrational wave of rage rear it's head up inside her again.
"The Clave was so rigid and prejudiced back in what they call the Time of Angels that they didn't dream of a Shadowhunter asking a Downworlder for help. They didn't even bother to exclude us. So, since, as you all say, " Magnus's tone turns mocking, " "the Law is the Law", there's no stopping me from slipping through this gaping loophole." He takes another sip of his drink, raising his eyebrows, "For the right price."
"Name it." Alec answers casually.
"You." Magnus smirks, looking directly into Alec's eyes, "In fact . . . " He bites his lower lip, trailing his eyes down Alec's lean, tall frame before looking up at him again, "I'll do you pro bono."
There's a moment in which they both hold each other's gazes, a moment where the tension in the air is so charged and thick Maya feels as though she's intruding on something private, a moment where Alec's eyes drift to Magnus's lips and he lets out a shaky breath that's not audible to anyone but her. But just then, Alec rolls his eyes, breaking the spell, "Anything else?"
"What else is important to you? What else tells me that your sister means enough for you to make a real sacrifice?" Magnus masks his disappointment with a faint look of surprise, "Oh, I know. Your bow and quiver. How about that?"
Alec's gaze trails off for a moment before he nods in agreement, "Done." Then his eyes drift to the couch, and Maya realizes, with horror, that she's left her bag draped over the edge, "What is that?"
"Oh!" Magnus's face pales when he catches sight of the bag, "That's . . . mine."
"I could've sworn Maya has the same bag, " Alec looks down at Magnus with accusing eyes, "In fact, I remember her wearing it when she disappeared with Clary and Jace 48 hours ago, "
"I don't know what you're talking about." Magnus meets his gaze with a cool expression.
"Don't you?" Alec scoffs, raising a suspicious eyebrow. He looks around the room, and Maya doesn't dare to breathe as Alec's sapphire orbs land on the screen. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck —
Then, just as quickly as he saw her, Alec turns his attention back to Magnus, and his tone becomes even once more, "Well, if you see her, tell her to stay away from the Institute." His jaw clenches, "I don't want them to give them more reason to drag her into this than they already have."
"Noted." Magnus swallows, nervously glancing over to the screen.
Magnus absolutely forbids her from coming to the trial, saying that this is the one time following Nephilim orders may actually be safer than telling rationality to fuck off. So now, after locking her in and expressly forbidding her to contact Izzy in order to avoid any trace of her implication, Maya's left fiddling with the TV remote in order to be able to watch the trial on the Institute's cable channel, accessible only by input of a special code given to all Shadowhunters at the Institute.
"Ah, there!" Maya sighs, as Church crawls into her lap, the scene on the flat screen slowly coming into focus. The tense faces of the jury stare back at her as the camera pans to center stage, High Inquisitor Imogen Herondale seated on an ornate, throne-like chair as a Silent Brother holds up the Soul Sword to Magnus.
"Will I survive if I touch it?" He raises a cool eyebrow, looking as dashing as ever in his favorite navy-blue suit, and Maya catches Alec eyeing him from the defense's stand.
"If you tell the truth." Imogen smiles, thinly, as though deciding whether Izzy lives free or dies in the Gard is the least of her worries.
As Magnus puts his hands on the hilt, The Silent Brother speaks in his guttural tones, "By the power of this sword, do you swear to defend your client with integrity and honesty?"
"No argument from me on that." Magnus smiles, confidently letting go of the sword and striding over to a table in front of Imogen.
"Make your case, warlock." The High Inquisitor lifts a perfunctory brow, and Maya holds her breath as Magnus starts to speak. It's now or never.
"My case is simple." Magnus states, "It is true that Isabelle Lightwood acted against the orders of the Clave by trying to free the Seelie, Meliorn. But she did not act against the interests of the Clave. Preventing the forced questioning and possible death of a Seelie may have saved the Accords."
"We're not here to speculate what might have happened if the defendant hadn't interfered." Imogen looks as though she's resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him.
"You mean what might have happened if she hadn't stopped the Silent Brothers from torturing a Seelie?" Magnus raises a knowing eyebrow.
"I await a valid argument." Imogen scoffs, "Do you have one?"
"What you really want is the Mortal Cup. My client doesn't have it." Magnus laughs, softly, "Since this whole proceeding isn't about what it's really about, I move to have this case dismissed."
"You're out of order." Imogen snaps, her patience clearly going thin.
"No." Magnus's expression grows icy, "This whole thing is out of order. It's not Isabelle's fault. It's the Cup!" He snaps, gesticulating to the jury, "Put the Cup on trial!"
"Oh my God, " Maya gasps, as Church purrs in approval.
"Very well, " Imogen rolls her eyes, "I call Isabelle Lightwood to the stand, with Lydia Branwell acting as the prosecution."
The camera pans to Izzy, who walks up to the stand in a stunning dark blue dress that hugs her curves in an entirely fierce way, her stiletto heels clicking against the marble of the Institute floors. Her eyes are impenetrable as she sits down, face impassive as Lydia walks up to question her. The blond Shadowhunter speaks, "You have led us to believe that you alone carried out this operation. But Clary Fairchild was seen near the City of Bones that night."
Isabelle shrugs, casually, "Maybe she was out for a walk."
"And you expect us to believe that you distracted the guards, and escaped with the prisoner on your own?" Lydia scoffs, raising a suspicious eyebrow, "With no help from a certain warlock?"
"Pretty slick, right?" Izzy grins, looking up at Imogen, "And besides, Maya was with Magnus that night, sick in bed. It says right there in the case files."
"I suggest you think about how slick it would be when Valentine uses the Mortal Cup to raise an army of rogue Shadowhunters." Imogen snaps at her.
"I don't want Valentine to succeed." Isabelle fires back, just as coldly.
"Well, that's the first sane thing I've heard from you." Imogen scoffs.
"You know what's insane?" Izzy snaps at the Inquisitor, "Thinking we have the right to treat a Downworlder's life as worthless."
"Isabelle," Lydia's voice edges on caution, "I should warn you that everything you say here will be considered in the verdict."
"Good. Consider this." Izzy spits, standing up, "Valentine didn't come out of nowhere. We use our angel blood to justify everything we do, just like him. Like him, we forget that we are not only angels. We are part mundane. We can be afraid. And fear makes us cruel." She stares at the crowd with a fire in her eyes, "And we turn our fear to Downworlders just as Valentine did. And just as he did, " Isabelle leans forward, pressing on, "We will end up turning on each other."
"You think we're doing that to you?" Imogen looks at her questioningly.
"You have to answer that for yourself, Madam Inquisitor." Isabelle states, plainly, before the camera cuts to a break, court temporarily adjourned.
Maya lets out a long breath and flops back over the couch, covering her face with her hands as the sound of a commercial break fills the room. Her heart pounds with anticipation, but a small flare of hope ignites inside her. The case is a sham — she knows that much. Prosecuting Isabelle for supposed 'high treason' is just a cover to secure grip of the mortal cup, to nip a revolution in the bud. It's the same pattern of events that followed before Valentine rose to power. Laws bent, clave orders defied, the Nephilim government criticized for not doing enough — the Clave doesn't care whether Downworlders live or die as long as their interests are where they need to be. Locking the guilded cage that puts their own on a pedestal, no matter the cost for everyone else.
Just then, her phone ringing snaps Maya out of her reverie, and she sighs, picking up the call and wincing as none other than the voice of her favorite pain in the ass blasts out of the speakers, "Where the fuck are you?!"
"Hello to you too, " Maya rolls her eyes, "I'm at Magnus's. Safe and sound."
"What?" Clary sputters, "Why?!"
"Long story, " Maya sighs, "Anywho, Izzy's on trial at the Institute for helping Meliorn, and I've been ordered to stay here. I think the case is moving in our favor, though."
"God, everything I've heard about the Clave makes me like them even less, " Clary sighs, "I hope she's alright? "
"Eh, she seemed to hold up very well during the broadcast, " Maya shrugs, "Anyway, is Jace alright?"
"He's fine. Overexerting himself as usual " Clary's voice drops, "Look, something's not adding up about his dad."
"You're telling me." Maya rolls her eyes, "How did he know I was a warlock without me saying anything?"
"And how did he know my mom was pregnant with me before she left Valentine?" Clary counters, "He's different from what I expected, what Jace described him as in the falcon story. Loving—"
"Wait, " Maya stops her, surprised, "Jace told you the falcon story?!"
"Yeah." Clary sounds puzzled, "Why?"
"He's never told anyone except Alec." Maya's tone is surprised, recalling the bits and pieces that she learned from Izzy, "Wow, he must really trust you."
"If only I could say the same for his dad, " Clary sighs, but Maya can feel her blushing from the other end of the night, "How did you know Michael was dead?"
"Rumors." Maya shrugs, "When Jace showed up at the Institute, we assumed Michael got hit by a circle member wanting revenge. He died in front of Jace, so there wasn't much Maryse could ask without reducing him to tears again."
"Was that six years ago?" Clary questions.
"Around seven, " Maya frowns, "Why?"
"Seven . . . " Clary muses. Her voice drops for a second, "Shit. Look I have to go, but we're at Renwick's, so call us if you need us."
"Why are you at Renwick's?" Maya mutters, remembering the abandoned smallpox hospital on the East River.
"We think Valentine's moved his base camp there. It's immune from Shadowhunter tracking. " Clary sighs, "See you on the other side."
"No, wait—" Maya tries, but the redhead cuts the call. She places her phone down, frustration creeping into her bones. It feels odd to be sitting here with nothing to do, left out of all the action that's been going on around her the past few weeks. However, as she spots her trusty laptop sitting on the kitchen table, a sudden idea pops into her head.
Maybe she doesn't have to be a sitting duck after all.
As Maya's reading through an official report of Michael Wayland on her laptop from the Institute's recently-digitized archives, the trial flickers back on the TV screen, and she immediately closes her laptop. It's now or never.
Magnus requests Imogen, "I'd like to call Lydia Branwell to the stand."
The High Inquisitor purses her lips, "I don't see the relevance."
"Well, that makes two of us. I don't see the relevance of this whole trial." Magnus turns to Lydia, "Ms. Branwell? If you'll take the stand?"
As the blond Shadowhunter walks up to her seat on the stage, Magnus strolls in front of her, "I just have one question. Why are you prosecuting this case?"
Maya sees Lydia hesitate for a second before Imogen presses on, "Answer the question, Counselor."
"Because the Law is hard, but it is the Law." Maya sees Magnus visibly roll his eyes at her words, but something subtly changes in Lydia's expression, and a spark grows in her eyes that Maya can't quite identify, "But that doesn't make it right. We're trying someone for being compassionate, thinking for herself. She saved a life that was being sacrificed for nothing."
"What the fuck?" Maya whispers, utterly astonished, as the High Inquisitor sounds, "That will be enough, Branwell."
"No, it isn't." Lydia stands up, "I'm looking out at the faces here. " Her eyes land on Izzy, "A brother and sister who disagree on everything except for how much they love one another, and how loyal they are to each other." Then they land on Magnus, who looks shocked at her admission, "A man who took this case pretending to want payment in rare objects, but who really believes that injustices towards the members of his community are intolerable." Lydia looks back towards the crowd, "Loyalty, decency, compassion, love. These are the concepts that we should consider to decide guilt or innocence in a case like this."
"Those are not the concepts of the Law." Imogen scoffs, dismissing her, "Now, enough of this nonsense."
"I agree. The case is nonsense." Lydia sighs, pressing her hands together, "I withdraw the charges."
"Whoo!" Maya screams in euphoria as the roar of the crowd's applause sounds on the TV, Izzy running to hug her brother, then Magnus, as Lydia smiles at the scene. "You hear that, Church?" She yells, startling the grey feline, "We won!"
"Silence! Order!" However, the sound of Imogen's gavel cuts the celebration short, "Silence!" She yells. Her expression is bordering on rage as she looks on at the crowd, "If you think refusing to prosecute exculpates the defendant, you are wrong. She is guilty." The Inquisitor stands up, "The defense was correct. The Clave wants the Mortal Cup. If it is returned within 24 hours, this ruling will be vacated. If not, Isabelle Lightwood will be stripped of her runes and exiled from the society of the Shadowhunters forever."
As Imogen bangs the gavel once more, the camera cuts away, and Maya's heart drops into her stomach. They're screwed. Her eyes scan over the file on her laptop as she opens it once more, but they catch on one particular detail: "Date of death: June 17, 2010".
"What the hell?" Maya mutters. She switches from Michael Wayland's file to Valentine's and scrolls down until she finds the date of Death: June 14, 1999.
The threads of the theory in Maya's head start to weave themselves together as she looks up the day of the Uprising: 'June 13, 1999." Then she remembers Jace's arrival at the Institute, "June 20, 2010". Just past six years ago.
Wait. Wait, wait—
"Oh my God." Maya covers her mouth with her hands as the realization hits her like a ton of bricks, "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"
All this time, as they've traveled through dimensions and different countries looking for a mass murderer that could end all their lives with a snap of his fingers, they've forgotten an important fact — the people you love have the power to hurt you the most. All these little throwaway details that she's noticed, forgetting the things he should know whilst remembering things he shouldn't — they can only be because of one possible reason.
What if the reason they couldn't find him was because Valentine never left the lab? Or more accurately, left it with them?
Maya kicks the door open and hails a cab to Renwick's as fast as she can.
The night air is freezing around her as she sprints up the hill, her lungs burning as her feet carry her closer to the hospital. "Clary!! Jace!!" Maya screams, her voice an eerie screech in the fog around them, "Where are you?!"
She should've known. She should've known when she first saw him. There was no way a throwaway Shadowhunter like Michael Wayland could be able to survive six years being tortured and experimented on by someone as dangerous as Valentine Morgenstern. Renwick's was the perfect place to isolate them, cut them off and take them far away from the people who would protect them. Once he's killed Clary and Jace, nothing will stop him from taking the cup. And Izzy, by no fault of her own, will be exiled from the people she knew and loved.
This was never supposed to end well — Maya knows that deep down, wiping the tears streaming down her face as she runs. But the possibility of having her friends murdered because she couldn't figure out Valentine's mask fast enough is enough to send her running to save their lives. Even if she has to sacrifice hers in the process.
"Guys!!" Maya screams, her voice almost giving out as she forces it's volume to maximum capacity. Just then, she sees two familiar figures emerge from the fog, and sprints toward them at full speed, her legs almost giving out from how fast she runs. As Clary's eyes widen in shock, Maya launches herself at the redhead and wraps her in a bear hug. Clary stumbles for a second before hugging her back equally as hard, arms tightly wrapping around her body.
"You're alive. Both of you —" Maya pulls back, still clutching Clary tightly, who makes no move of letting go of her. She looks at Jace, her voice choked, "I — I was so scared — I thought he — he killed you — "
"Honestly, I feel like that would have been easier to handle." Jace mutters, quietly, and Maya sees tear tracks glittering in the dirt streaked on his face.
"What did he do?" She breathes out, her voice shaking. Maya looks between them both rapidly, "Are you injured? Did he hurt you?"
"Maya . . " Clary swallows, tightly, "Michael wasn't Jace's father."
"Yeah, I know." Maya replies, confused, "He was Valentine. There was probably a glamour — What's going on?"
"Michael Wayland wasn't my father, " Jace's voice shakes as he looks her in the eye, "But Valentine is."
"Obviously, you were running around with him all — " Maya stops in her tracks as the full meaning of Jace's words hit her like a train, "You don't mean — Is he?" She puts her hand over her mouth as she backs away from Clary and Jace, looking between both of them as the nausea crashes over her, "Oh my God. Oh my God."
Maya meets Jace's eyes in utter horror, "Are you two . . . siblings?!"
Just then, Luke's voice calls from behind them, and Maya sees him running towards them with a familiar figure draped in his hands, "I have her!!" He yells.
"Is that . . . . Jocelyn?" Maya whispers, noticing the unconscious woman's red hair, identical to the curls that grace Clary's shoulders.
"Yeah, " Clary looks at Maya, and there's none of the hope she expected to see, none of the joy that would come with finding your missing mother. Instead, a terrified teenage girl stares back at her, eyes reflecting the utter horror she's just experienced — and the fear at whatever will come next, "We found her."
heavy angst warning for the next few chaps.