40PROLOGUE
She was part of a wild tangle, bodies all around her, riding at breakneck speed. She could feel the heat of the horse underneath her, muscles sliding beneath the skin, hear nothing but the beating of hooves, overlaid with the sound of the horn calling them onwards. But despite the movement, the crush, underneath it all, she felt terribly, inescapably alone.
"Clary, wake up" She felt arms around her, holding her close, as she struggled to come back to reality.
"Its okay, you're dreaming. You're safe - we're all safe - you're in New York, in the Institute." Jace looked at her, worry showing on his face. "Was it Sebastian again? The Cup?"
"Not this time. I was with the Wild Hunt, riding. Jace, we aren't all safe, Mark is still there, with the Fair Folk. The Clave abandoned him to the Hunt." She shivered, remembering the loneliness and the sound of the hunting horn, calling her onwards.
CHAPTER 1: July 2008: The New York Institute
Staring vaguely at the the the page of Chthonian that she was meant to be translating, Clary yawned.
Izzy wiggled her eyebrows at Jace, "Keeping her awake too much?" she asked, glad of any distraction from her own work.
Clary blushed, despite herself. "Bad dreams," she said, quickly.
"Sebastian again?" asked Izzy, sympathetically.
"No, not this time," replied Clary.
The more she thought about it, the more the dream puzzled her. She'd had the same nightmare time and again since they returned from Edom; Sebastian pulling Heosphoros from his chest unharmed, and then forcing her to drink from the Infernal Cup. This felt different, more like the visions that had come before from Ithuriel. And why would she be dreaming Mark's thoughts and feelings?
"Did the Council do anything at all about Mark, in the end?" she asked, looking at the others.
Jace shook his head. "Not as far as I know." He shrugged. "You saw what they were like with Helen. He's out of sight, and as far as they're concerned, that's the best place for him."
Mark's fate played on Clary's mind for the next few days. She read whatever she could find in the Library on the subject of the Hunt, and the more she learned, the more she wondered whether the Clave had abandoned the young Shadowhunter not because of his faerie blood, but simply out of realism. The Hunt didn't appear to have any meaningful contacts with the rest of the Shadow World beyond occasional visits to the Seelie Court; at their choosing, not the Queen's. Presumably they must have some base, for when they weren't hunting, but nothing she read gave any indication of where it might be.
When she went home to Jocelyn and Luke's new place that weekend, her mother seemed in a strange mood, worrying about Clary's studies, whether living at the Institute in the week was suiting her, even whether she was getting enough to eat.
At dinner on Saturday evening, Clary finally snapped "What on earth is going on, Mom? You're nearly as tense as you were last summer, before Valentine came back. I don't understand what the problem is – I thought you were fine about me training to be a Shadowhunter at the Institute? And I'm seventeen, not seven, if the Institute food isn't good enough, I am totally capable of cooking something myself. They do have a kitchen, you know."
"It's not that." As ever, Luke was calm, making sense of the chaos around their lives. "Has Maryse talked to you at all about the Clave's ideas for your training?"
"Yes, we've talked a bit. She's been trying to set me work to help me catch up with the others, I guess. I thought she was happy about how it was going." She had thought that, too. Obviously she didn't have the depth of knowledge that the others had from their years of studying Nephilim culture. But when it came down to it, there was plenty of overlap – they had all had to learn math, literature, basic science. And while Clary was way behind on Shadowhunter specifics, she was a quick learner, and worked hard.
"She is, very happy." continued Luke. "In fact, she got in touch today to talk to your Mom about what happens next. You know that normally, Shadowhunters travel to other Institutes once they get to 17 or 18 to get more experience about how they do things elsewhere. Well, anyway, Maryse has been looking at possible placements for her children, and she thought that you probably wouldn't want to stay behind in New York if Jace was going abroad."
Clary hadn't thought about this at all. She vaguely remembered talking about it with Isabelle way back when she first met the Shadowhunters, and was learning about their life, but she somehow hadn't made the connection.
"I told her you were too young." started Jocelyn. "That you hadn't been studying in the Institute for long enough, that it was far too soon to think about you going away."
"But Mom . . ." Clary was horrified. She had the option of travelling, with Jace, and her Mom was going to turn it down on her behalf. "If I had stayed in school – in mundane school, I mean – I'd have been going off to college really soon."
"College is different. No demons, no-one trying to kill you, no rogue Downworlders" said Jocelyn, decisively. "If you go to another Institute, no-one will remember that you are new to this, you'll just be more cannon-fodder to send out when there's an incursion and there's no-one old enough to deal with it properly."
Clary looked at Luke, desperately. "She can't stop me, can she? You can talk sense into her?"
Luke shook his head. "It's not up to me. But it's not up to your Mom, either. Maryse and Robert are the heads of the Clave in New York, and as such, they make the decisions about what happens with Shadowhunters in training. Whatever they decide is what will happen, regardless of what you or Jocelyn want."
October 2008: Near Cardiff, Wales
"What the hell is this like" Jace leant against the open back door of the decrepit farmhouse, his arm round Clary.
"I think it's pretty" She looked out at the hills and woodland that spread out below them.
"There are too many sheep. I don't trust a country with this many sheep. And I strongly suspect that there are ducks somewhere on this farm." Clary had forgotten Jace's irrational hatred of ducks.
Neither of them heard the door behind them open. "You're not in Kansas any more, Toto" The tall black haired man who had just come in looked at Jace in amusement.
"Right, you two, come and sit down." He waved a hand at the table filling the centre of the kitchen, and pulled out benches for them. Then he went over, threw a couple of logs into a big iron woodburner, and leant against it."
"OK, I'm Tony, and I'm in charge round here. I can see that this isn't what you were expecting when you came to the UK. I guess you were imagining running around London with a bunch of glamorous Nephilim. Well, you two weren't really what I was looking for, either, when I asked for some extra bodies to replace my Shadowhunters that have been sent off to God knows where. But regardless of that, I've got you, and you're stuck with me for the moment."
For once, even Jace was silent. The man continued.
"So, Wales isn't London, nor is it Idris. Things don't necessarily work the way that you're used to, and there are ground rules I need you two to remember if you're not going to mess up here badly. Is that clear?"
Jace and Clary both nodded – there didn't seem to be much else to do.
"Firstly: Never rely on a glamour, and never assume a mundane can't see you. Even if they appear not to see you, assume they're pretending. I know you're used to using glamours all the time, and it's a hard habit to break, but humans have been interbreeding with the Fae for an awfully long time in this corner of the world.
On the same note, never speak badly of the Tylwyth Teg, the Fair Folk, regardless of company. In fact, just presume that anyone you meet, whoever they are, has fae blood somewhere, or at the very least a second cousin who married a fae three generations back. On a similar note, remember, everyone is related to everybody else, or at least it will feel like it to start with."
He grinned "Finally, and possibly most importantly, always remember that rugby is a national obsession, mundane or downworld. If you feel the need to point out that this is stupid, wait until you are with a vampire; even Welsh vampires hate rugby, and it's an excellent way to bond with them. Any questions?"
"How do you hide the Institute if glamours don't work?" Clary was sure there were more sensible questions that she should be asking, but it was the first thing that came to mind.
"Good question. We don't, is the answer, or not by magic. That's why we're out here, and not in Cardiff proper. Anyone who comes looking for us will be able to find us, regardless. Casual passers by, tourists – well, everyone knows that Wales is full of old farms turned into hippy communes, why should they look twice at this one. Anyone who does come up the drive, try and sell them some duck eggs or honey – there's a supply by the front door. Either they'll go away, or you get some beer money, it's a win win situation."
Clary could see Jace processing that one; she wondered how long it would be before he figured out that if there were duck eggs, there must unquestionably be ducks. But before he could say anything, a short blond man – a werewolf, Clary realised, and was immediately pleased with herself for spotting this – came in through the back door.
"Hey, Tony, how's it going."
"Not bad. Come to meet the new recruits?"
"That's it, thought I'd stop by and see who's turned up. I didn't know they were sending you baby Nephilim now, though."
Jace stiffened "Jace Herondale, pleased to meet you . . .?"
"Well now, baby American Nephilim at that." He nodded at Jace. "Dai Williams, leader of the Cardiff werewolves. I hope you've both got better manners around Downworlders than some of the American shadowhunters I've met."
Now it was Clary's turn to be offended. "My stepfather is a werewolf, so I should imagine so. And my best friend was a vampire" she couldn't help adding, before realising how stupid she sounded.
Fortunately, Dai Williams didn't appear to notice. "Was a vampire. Are you talking about the Daylighter, Simon Lewis?"
"Yes." Clary nodded.
"You must be Clary, then? Lucian Greymark's stepdaughter? The one who drew the Alliance rune?" He sounded distinctly more friendly, and Clary nodded.
"Well now, maybe you have got someone useful here, Tony. That was a great thing you did there, Clary. I was at the battle, got marked up with it, fantastic to see the Nephilim in Idris actually working with us Downworlders for once. Anyway, the other reason I dropped in was to invite this lot to a party down at the pack farm on Friday, you two would be very welcome if you'd like to come along. If Tony's busy, I'm sure Gwen'll show you the way, she's having a thing with one of my cubs, can't get her out of the place." With that, he left.
Clary opened the door to the burner in their room, and poked at the fire inside. Luke's farm had a woodburner, so at least she had some idea how to light it using the paper and kindling that had been left for them, but she couldn't get it to produce much heat. She had no idea how the New York Institute was heated, but she guessed that it didn't involve fires; at least, Jace wasn't volunteering any help.
After Dai the werewolf had left, Tony had shown them up to their room, and suggested that they settle in and then come down and meet the rest of the Institute shadowhunters at dinner time. The room was large and, Clary thought, pretty comfortable, with a double bed, big sofa, desk and bookshelves.
"So what do you reckon Alec and Magnus are up to, right now?" Jace asked, as he folded his clothes and put them neatly into one of the cupboards.
Clary giggled. "I don't know, but I'm betting it doesn't involve rugby playing downworlders."
"Actually, Magnus might quite like blond rugby playing downworlders," mused Jace. "My guess though is that they're checking out the London downworld club scene, Alec is using the amazing library in the London institute, Magnus is probably tracking down all his old contacts from when he lived in London."
"Maryse did say the point of these assignments was to give young Shadowhunters an idea of how things were done differently in other places. I guess we're going to get that, at least," Clary said, trying to be optimistic.
"And I have to live with your mess." Jace pointed out.
"I am not that messy. Besides, you should be pleased, before we got here you were worrying that they'd put us at opposite ends of the Institute and we'd have to sneak around in the night."
"If this room ends up as untidy as your space in New York, I may be begging for a room at the other end of the building before the end of the month. Oh well, it's only six months, no doubt we will cope. What's the worst that can happen, anyway?"
Note: If you're waiting for Magnus and Alec, they arrive in chapter 5 . . .