Isabelle Lightwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seveninchmotto) wrote2015-03-14 03:55 pm
seveninchmotto) wrote2015-03-14 03:55 pm
Entry tags:
The Demon Realm of Edom, Saturday? Sure Let's Go With That
"Don't look, don't look..."
Isabelle laughed. "I'm not looking."
There were hands over her eyes: Flick's hands, calloused but warm. His arms were around her, and they were shuffling forward together, laughing. He'd grabbed her the moment she'd walked in the front door, wrapping his arms around her as her shopping bags dropped from her hands.
"I have a surprise for you," he'd said, grinning. "Close your eyes. No looking. No, really. I'm not kidding."
"I hate surprises," Isabelle protested now. "You know that." She could just see the edge of the rug under Flick's hands. She'd picked it out herself, and it was thick, bright pink, and fuzzy. Their apartment was small and cozy, a hodgepodge of Isabelle and Flick. Books and katanas and all manner of things that just said home. Just for them.
The pink rug vanished, and now Isabelle's heels clicked onto the tile floor of the kitchen. "Okay," Flick said, and withdrew his hands. "Surprise!"
"Surprise!" The kitchen was full of people: her mother and father, Jace and Alec and Max, Clary and Jordan and Maia, Simon and Edward. Magnus was holding a silver sparkler and winking, waving it back and forth as the sparkles flew everywhere, landing on the stone counters and Jace's T-shirt, making him yelp. Clary was holding a clumsily lettered sign: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ISABELLE. She held it up and waved.
Isabelle whirled on Flick accusingly. "You planned this!"
"Of course I did," he said, pulling her toward him. "Shadowhunters might not care about birthdays, but I do." He kissed her ear, murmuring, "You should have everything, baby," before he let her go, and her family descended.
There was a whirl of hugs, of presents and cake — baked by Jordan, who actually had something of a flair for pastry creation, and decorated by Magnus with luminous frosting that tasted better than it looked. Robert had his arms around Maryse, who was leaning back against him, looking on proudly and contentedly as Magnus, one hand ruffling Alec's hair, tried to convince Max to put on a party hat. Max, with all the self-possession of a nine-year-old, was having none of it. He waved away Magnus's hand impatiently and said, "Izzy, I made the sign. Did you see the sign?"
Isabelle glanced over at the hand-lettered sign, now liberally smeared with frosting, on the table. Clary winked at her. "It's awesome, Max; thank you."
"I was going to put what birthday it was on the sign," he said, "but Jace said that after twenty, you're just old, so it doesn't matter anyway."
Jace stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "I said that?"
"Way to make us all feel ancient," said Flick, carding a hand back through his hair and smiling at Isabelle. She felt a little twist of pain inside her chest — she loved him that much, for doing this for her, for always thinking of her. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't loved him or trusted him, and he'd never given her a reason not to do either.
Isabelle slid off the stool she'd been sitting on, and knelt down in front of her little brother. She could see their reflection in the steel of the refrigerator: her own dark hair, cut to her shoulders now — she remembered vaguely years ago, when her hair had reached her waist — and Max's brown curls and glasses. "Do you know how old I am?" she said.
"Twenty-two," Max said, in the tone of voice that indicated he wasn't sure why she was asking him such a stupid question.
Twenty-two, she thought. She'd always been seven years older than Max, Max the surprise, Max the little brother she hadn't expected.
Max, who should be fifteen now.
She swallowed, suddenly cold all over. Everyone was still talking and laughing all around her, but the laughing sounded distant and echoing, as if it came from very far away. She could see Flick, leaning against the counter, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes unreadable as he watched her.
"And how old are you?" Isabelle said.
"Nine," said Max. "I've always been nine."
Isabelle stared. The kitchen around her was wavering. She could see through it, as if she were staring through printed fabric: everything going transparent, as mutable as water.
"Sweetheart," she whispered. "My Max, my baby brother, please, please stay."
"I'll always be nine," he said, and touched her face. His fingers passed through her, as if he were passing his hand through smoke. For a second, she thought she saw someone else behind him. Another young boy in green. But the vision flickered, and vanished all too quickly. "Isabelle?" Max said in a fading voice, and disappeared.
Isabelle felt her knees give. She sank to the ground. There was no laughter around her, no pretty tiled kitchen, only gray, powdery ash and blackened rock. She put up her hands to stop her tears.
-----
It looked like pictures of the surface of the moon, pitted and ashy, and above was a scorched sky, gray and yellow, cloudless. The sun hung orange and low, a dead cinder. Not that Isabelle really looked around herself before Alec ran to her down a hill, while she was struggling to her feet. He caught her in a one-armed hug. "Iz," he said.
She made a sound suspiciously like a sniffle and pulled away from him. "I'm all right," she said. There were tear tracks on her face, though, she knew that. She knew Alec could see them.
"Max?" he asked.
She nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears and anger. Of course Isabelle would be angry. She hated to cry.
"Me too," he said, and then whirled at the sound of a footstep, half-pushing Isabelle behind him.
It was Clary, and beside her, Simon. They both looked shell-shocked. Isabelle moved out from behind Alec. "You two...?"
"Fine," Simon said. "We... saw things. Weird things."
"It was a demon," Alec said. "The kind that feeds on dreams and wishes. I killed it." He glanced from them to Isabelle. "Where's Jace?"
Clary paled under the dirt on her face. "We thought he'd be with you."
Alec shook his head. "He's all right," he said. "I'd know if he weren't —"
But Clary had already spun back around and was half-running back the way she'd come; after a moment Alec followed her, and so did the others. They scrambled up the rise, and then up another rise. Isabelle realized she was heading for higher ground, where the view would be better. She could hear Clary coughing; her own lungs felt coated with ash.
Dead, she thought. Everything in this world is dead and burned to dust. What happened here?
At the top of the hill was a cairn of stones — a circle of smooth rocks, like a dried-out well. Seated on the edge of the cairn was Jace, staring at the ground.
"Jace!" Clary skidded to a halt in front of him, dropped to her knees, and caught at his shoulders. He looked at her blankly. "Jace," she said again, urgently. "Jace, snap out of it. It's not real. It's a demon, making us see the things we want. Alec killed it. Okay? It's not real."
"I know." He looked as if he'd been bleeding out, though he was obviously uninjured.
"What did you see?" Alec said. "Max?"
Jace shook his head. "I didn't see anything."
"It's all right, whatever you saw. It's all right," Clary said. She leaned in, touched Jace's face; Isabelle was reminded acutely of Flick's hands over her face in the dream. "I saw Sebastian," Clary said. "I was in Idris. The Fairchild house was still standing. My mom was with Luke. I—there was going to be a wedding." She swallowed. "I had a little sister, too. She was named after Valentine. He was a hero. Sebastian was there but he was fine, he was normal. He loved me. Like a real brother."
"That's messed up," Simon said. He moved closer to Isabelle, and they stood shoulder to shoulder. Jace reached out and ran a careful finger down one of Clary's curls, letting it wind around his hand.
"We all have dreams," Clary said. "It doesn't mean anything. Remember what I said before? We stay together."
Jace kissed her forehead and stood up, holding out a hand; after a moment Clary took it, and rose to her feet beside him. "I didn't see anything," he said gently. "All right?"
She hesitated, clearly not believing him; just as clearly, she didn't want to press the point. "All right."
"I hate to bring this up," Isabelle said, "but did anyone see a way back?"
Alec thought of his headlong rush over the desert hills, searching for the others, eyes raking the horizon. They all paled as they glanced around. "I think," he said, "that there is no way back. Not from here, not down the tunnel. I think it closed up after us."
"So this was a one-way trip," said Clary, with only a slight tremble to her voice.
"Not necessarily," said Simon. "We have to get to Sebastian — we always knew that. And once we get there, Jace can try to do his thing with the heavenly fire, whatever that is — no offense —"
"None taken," said Jace, casting his eyes up to the sky.
"And once we rescue the prisoners," said Alec, "Magnus can help us get back. Or we can figure out how Sebastian gets back and forth; this can't be the only way."
"That's optimistic," said Isabelle. "What if we can't rescue the prisoners, or we can't kill Sebastian?"
"Then he'll kill us," said Jace. "And it won't matter that we don't know how to get back."
Clary squared her small shoulders. "Then we'd better get to finding him, hadn't we?"
Jace tugged his stele free of his pocket, and took Sebastian's bracelet off his wrist. He closed his fingers around it, using the stele to draw a tracking rune on the back of his hand. A moment passed, and then another; a look of intense concentration passed over Jace's face, like a cloud. He lifted his head.
"He's not that far," he said. "A day, maybe two days of walking away." He slid the bracelet back onto his wrist. Alec looked at it pointedly, and then at Jace.
"Wearing it will keep me from losing it," Jace said, and when Alec said nothing, Jace shrugged and started off down the hill. "We should get moving," he called back over his shoulder. "We've got a long way to go."
-----
They had been walking for what seemed like hours now. The uneven ground made the walking harder. None of the hills were very high, but they were pathless, and covered in shale and jagged rock. Sometimes there were plains of sticky, tarry pitch to cross, and their feet sank in almost to the ankles, dragging down their steps.
They paused to put on runes for sure-footedness and strength, and to drink water. It was a dry place, all smoke and ashes, with the occasional bright river of molten rock sludging through the burned land. Their faces were already smeared with dirt and ash, their gear powdered with it.
"Ration the water," Alec warned, capping his plastic bottle. They had paused in the shadow of a small mountain. Its jagged top snarled up into peaks and crenellations that made it resemble a crown. "We don't know how long we'll be traveling."
Jace touched the bracelet on his wrist, and then his tracking rune. He frowned at the traced pattern on the back of his hand. "The runes we just put on," he said. "Someone show me one."
Isabelle made an impatient noise, then thrust out her wrist, where Alec had inked a speed rune earlier. She blinked down at it. "It's fading," she said, a sudden uncertainty in her voice.
"My tracking rune as well, and the others," said Jace, glancing over his skin. "I think runes fade more quickly here. We're going to have to be careful about using them. Check to make sure when they need to be applied again."
"Our Speed runes are fading," Isabelle said, sounding frustrated. "That could be the difference between two days of walking and three. Sebastian could be doing anything to the prisoners."
Alec winced.
"He won't," Jace said. "They're his insurance that the Clave will turn us over to him. He won't do anything to them unless he's sure that won't happen."
"We could walk all night," Isabelle said. "We could use Wakefulness runes. Keep applying them."
Jace glanced around. Dirt was smudged under his eyes, and across his cheeks and forehead where he'd rubbed the palm of his hand. The sky had deepened from yellow to dark orange, smeared with roiling black clouds. Nightfall was near.
"When Wakefulness runes fade, you crash," Jace said. "Then we'll be facing Sebastian basically hungover — not a good idea."
Alec followed Jace's gaze around the deadly landscape. "Then we're going to have to find a place to rest. Sleep. Aren't we?"
They argued about it for a while, though after a moment, Isabelle noticed Clary and Simon had wandered a few feet away. She gazed out over the plain, at the acres of bleakness ahead, the view choked with dust. "Did you see something?"
"What about those caves?" Simon asked, gesturing toward the dark entrances tunneling into the mountainside. "They're shelter —"
"Good idea," Jace said. "We're in a demon dimension, God knows what lives here, and you want to crawl into a narrow dark hole and —"
"All right," Simon interrupted. "It was just a suggestion. You don't need to get pissed off —"
Jace, who was clearly in a mood, gave him a cold look. "That wasn't me pissed off, vampire —"
A dark piece of cloud detached itself from the sky and darted suddenly downward, faster than any of them could follow. Wings and teeth and dozens of red eyes, and then Jace was rising up into the air, caught in the clawed grip of an airborne demon.
Isabelle screamed. Clary's hand went to her belt, but the demon had already shot back up into the sky, a whirl of leathery wings, emitting a high-pitched squeal of victory. Jace made no noise at all; Isabelle could see his boots dangling, motionless. Was he dead?
Alec already had his bow out, an arrow notched and ready.
"Shoot it!" Clary screamed at him.
He spun like a dancer, scanning the sky. "I can't get a clear shot; it's too dark — I could hit Jace —"
Isabelle's whip uncoiled from her hand, a glimmering wire, reaching up, up, impossibly up. Its shimmering light illuminated the clouded sky, and the demon screamed again, this time a shrill cry of pain. The creature was spinning through the air, tumbling over and over, Jace caught in its grip. Its claws were sunk deep into his back — or was he clinging to it? Alec swore, and let an arrow fly. It shot upward, piercing the darkness; a second later a heaving dark mass plummeted to earth and hit the ground with a whump that sent up a cloud of powdery ash.
They all stared. Splayed, the demon was large, almost the size of a horse, with a dark green, turtle-like body; limp, leathery wings; six centipede-like clawed appendages; and a long stem of a neck that ended in a circle of eyes and jagged, uneven teeth. The shaft of Alec's arrow protruded from its side.
Jace was kneeling on its back, a seraph blade in his hand. He plunged it down into the back of the creature's neck viciously, over and over, sending up small geysers of black ichor that sprayed his clothes and face. The demon gave a squealing gurgle and slumped, its multiple red eyes going blank and lightless.
Jace slid from its back, breathing hard. The seraph blade had already begun to warp and twist with ichor; he tossed it to the side and looked levelly at the small group of his friends, all staring at him with expressions of astonishment.
"That," he said, "was me pissed off."
Alec made a sound halfway between a groan and an expletive, and lowered his bow. His black hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.
"You don't all have to look so worried," Jace said. "I was doing fine."
Clary, light-headed with relief, gasped. "Fine? If your definition of 'fine' suddenly includes becoming a snack for a flying death turtle, then we are going to have to have words, Jace Lightwood —"
"It didn't vanish," Simon interrupted, looking as stunned as the rest of them. "The demon. It didn't vanish when you killed it."
"No, it didn't," Isabelle said. "Which means its home dimension is here." Her head was craned back, and she was studying the sky. "And apparently these demons can go out in the daylight. Probably because the sun here is almost burnt out. We need to get out of this area."
Simon coughed loudly. "What were you all saying about taking shelter in the caves being a bad idea?"
"Actually, that was just Jace," said Alec. "Seems like a fine idea to me."
Jace glared at them both, and scrubbed a hand across his face, succeeding in smearing the black ichor across his cheek. "Let's check the caves out. We'll find a small one, scout it thoroughly before we rest. I'll take first watch."
Alec nodded and started to move toward the nearest cave entrance. The rest of them followed.
But they made it only a few feet into the tunnel before they found the way blocked with a metal gate. Alec cursed, looking back over his shoulder. The cave entrance was just behind them, and through it they could see orange sky and dark, circling shapes.
"No — this is good," Jace said, stepping closer to the gate. "Look. Runes."
Runes were indeed worked into the curves of the metal. They spoke of protection, of the fending off of demonic forces, a whisper in the back of Isabelle's head. "They're protection runes," Clary said. "Protection against demons."
"Good," said Simon, casting another anxious glance back over his shoulder. "Because the demons are coming — fast."
Jace shot a glance behind them, then seized the gate and yanked at it. The lock burst, shedding flakes of rust. He pulled again, harder, and the gate swung open; Jace's hands were shimmering with suppressed light, and the metal where he had touched it looked blackened.
He ducked into the darkness beyond, and the others followed, Isabelle reaching for her witchlight. Simon came after, then Alec last, reaching out to slam the gate shut behind them. Clary took a moment to add a locking rune, just to be sure.
Isabelle's witchlight flared up, illuminating the fact that they were standing in a tunnel that snaked forward into darkness. The walls were smooth, marbled gneiss, carved over and over again with runes of protection, holiness, and defense. The floor was sanded stone, easy to walk on. The air grew clearer as they made their way deeper into the mountain, the taint of fog and demons slowly receding until they were all breathing more easily than they had since they had come to this realm.
They emerged at last into a large circular space, clearly crafted by human hands. It looked like the inside of a cathedral dome: round, with a massive ceiling arching overhead. There was a fire pit in the center of the room, long gone cold. White stone gems had been set into the ceiling. They glowed softly, filling the room with dim illumination. Isabelle lowered her witchlight, letting it blink off in her hand.
"I think this was a place to hide," Alec said in a hushed voice. "Some sort of last barricade where whoever lived here once would be safe from the demons."
"Whoever lived here once knew rune magic," Clary said. "I don't recognize them all, but I can feel what they mean. They're holy runes, like Raziel's."
Jace slung his pack off his shoulders and let it slide to the ground. "We're sleeping here tonight."
Alec looked dubious. "Are you sure that's safe?"
"We'll scout the tunnels," Jace said. "Clary, come with me. Isabelle, Simon, take the east corridor." He frowned. "Well, we're going to call it the east corridor. Here's hoping this is still accurate in the demon realms." He tapped the compass rune on his forearm, which was one of the first Marks most Shadowhunters received.
Isabelle dropped her pack, took out two seraph blades, and slid them into holsters on her back. "Fine." She just wanted to do something.
-----
The glow of her witchlight bounced off the runed walls of the cave. There wasn't much to see here, and Isabelle, as much as she appreciated Simon's company, was really not in the mood to talk much. But, Simon didn't seem to agree.
"He bought me a drink, you know," he said, after a long stretch of silence.
Isabelle couldn't brinng herself to feel interested. But, "Who?"
"Flick. After you guys did your evacuation via portal. He took me out for a drink."
Isabelle found herself chewing on her lip. And saying nothing.
"He's a nice guy, you know," Simon added, with some hesitation. "I'm glad you have him. He probably suits you. Better than I would have."
She wanted to say something to that, except what came out was, "Did you hear that?"
Before he could answer, it happened again. It sounded like a rustle and a cry, coming from the part of the tunnel they hadn't explored yet. Isabelle took off at a run, her witchlight bouncing wildly off the walls.
The tunnel had only one more curve before it ended in the remains of a shattered metal gate. Beyond what was left of the gate, a plateau of stone that sloped down to a blasted landscape. The plateau was rough, shingled with rock and heaps of weathered stone. Where it met the sand below, the desert started up again, dotted here and there with black, twisted trees. Some of the clouds had cleared, and Isabelle, looking up, made a little gasping noise. "Look at the moon," she said.
Simon looked — and started. It wasn't so much a moon as moons, as if the moon itself had been cracked apart into three pieces. They floated, jagged-edged, like shark's teeth scattered in the sky. Each gave off a dull glow, but it was not enough for Isabelle to see without a rune.
And so she turned to Simon, knowing that even a Farsighted rune wouldn't give her better vision than Simon's, especially here, where runes faded so quickly. "What can you see?"
"There are demons out there. A lot. Mostly airborne."
Isabelle's tone was grim. "So they can come out during the day, but they're more active at night."
"Yeah." Simon strained his eyes. "There's more. There's a stone plateau that goes for a distance, and then it drops off and there's something behind it, something shimmering."
"A lake, maybe?"
"Maybe," Simon said. "It almost looks like —"
"Like what?"
"Like a city," he said reluctantly. "Like a demon city."
"Oh." He saw the implications hit Isabelle, and for a moment she paled; then, being isabelle, she straightened up and nodded, turning away, away from the wrecked and shattered ruins of a world. "We'd better get back and tell the others."
----
They ran back to where the others were, as fast as they could. "The east corridor ends in a door," Isabelle said without preamble as soon as they got there. "A gate, like the one we came in through, but it's broken. And there are demons, the flying kind. They're not coming near here, but you can see them. Someone should probably keep watch, just to be safe."
"I'll do it," Alec said, standing up. "I'm not going to sleep anyway."
"Me neither." Jace scrambled to his feet. "Besides, someone should keep you company." He looked at Clary, who offered an encouraging smile.
"There are three moons," Isabelle said and sat down by the food, reaching for a granola bar. "And Simon thought he saw a city. A demon city."
"I wasn't sure," Simon added quickly.
"In the books Edom has a capital, called Idumea," said Alec. "There could be something. We'll keep an eye out." He bent to retrieve his bow and started off down the east corridor. Jace retrieved a seraph blade, kissed Clary quickly, and headed after him.
Clary settled down to sleep. isabelle didn't think she'd be able to.
[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay, CoHF.]
Isabelle laughed. "I'm not looking."
There were hands over her eyes: Flick's hands, calloused but warm. His arms were around her, and they were shuffling forward together, laughing. He'd grabbed her the moment she'd walked in the front door, wrapping his arms around her as her shopping bags dropped from her hands.
"I have a surprise for you," he'd said, grinning. "Close your eyes. No looking. No, really. I'm not kidding."
"I hate surprises," Isabelle protested now. "You know that." She could just see the edge of the rug under Flick's hands. She'd picked it out herself, and it was thick, bright pink, and fuzzy. Their apartment was small and cozy, a hodgepodge of Isabelle and Flick. Books and katanas and all manner of things that just said home. Just for them.
The pink rug vanished, and now Isabelle's heels clicked onto the tile floor of the kitchen. "Okay," Flick said, and withdrew his hands. "Surprise!"
"Surprise!" The kitchen was full of people: her mother and father, Jace and Alec and Max, Clary and Jordan and Maia, Simon and Edward. Magnus was holding a silver sparkler and winking, waving it back and forth as the sparkles flew everywhere, landing on the stone counters and Jace's T-shirt, making him yelp. Clary was holding a clumsily lettered sign: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ISABELLE. She held it up and waved.
Isabelle whirled on Flick accusingly. "You planned this!"
"Of course I did," he said, pulling her toward him. "Shadowhunters might not care about birthdays, but I do." He kissed her ear, murmuring, "You should have everything, baby," before he let her go, and her family descended.
There was a whirl of hugs, of presents and cake — baked by Jordan, who actually had something of a flair for pastry creation, and decorated by Magnus with luminous frosting that tasted better than it looked. Robert had his arms around Maryse, who was leaning back against him, looking on proudly and contentedly as Magnus, one hand ruffling Alec's hair, tried to convince Max to put on a party hat. Max, with all the self-possession of a nine-year-old, was having none of it. He waved away Magnus's hand impatiently and said, "Izzy, I made the sign. Did you see the sign?"
Isabelle glanced over at the hand-lettered sign, now liberally smeared with frosting, on the table. Clary winked at her. "It's awesome, Max; thank you."
"I was going to put what birthday it was on the sign," he said, "but Jace said that after twenty, you're just old, so it doesn't matter anyway."
Jace stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "I said that?"
"Way to make us all feel ancient," said Flick, carding a hand back through his hair and smiling at Isabelle. She felt a little twist of pain inside her chest — she loved him that much, for doing this for her, for always thinking of her. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't loved him or trusted him, and he'd never given her a reason not to do either.
Isabelle slid off the stool she'd been sitting on, and knelt down in front of her little brother. She could see their reflection in the steel of the refrigerator: her own dark hair, cut to her shoulders now — she remembered vaguely years ago, when her hair had reached her waist — and Max's brown curls and glasses. "Do you know how old I am?" she said.
"Twenty-two," Max said, in the tone of voice that indicated he wasn't sure why she was asking him such a stupid question.
Twenty-two, she thought. She'd always been seven years older than Max, Max the surprise, Max the little brother she hadn't expected.
Max, who should be fifteen now.
She swallowed, suddenly cold all over. Everyone was still talking and laughing all around her, but the laughing sounded distant and echoing, as if it came from very far away. She could see Flick, leaning against the counter, his arms folded over his chest, his eyes unreadable as he watched her.
"And how old are you?" Isabelle said.
"Nine," said Max. "I've always been nine."
Isabelle stared. The kitchen around her was wavering. She could see through it, as if she were staring through printed fabric: everything going transparent, as mutable as water.
"Sweetheart," she whispered. "My Max, my baby brother, please, please stay."
"I'll always be nine," he said, and touched her face. His fingers passed through her, as if he were passing his hand through smoke. For a second, she thought she saw someone else behind him. Another young boy in green. But the vision flickered, and vanished all too quickly. "Isabelle?" Max said in a fading voice, and disappeared.
Isabelle felt her knees give. She sank to the ground. There was no laughter around her, no pretty tiled kitchen, only gray, powdery ash and blackened rock. She put up her hands to stop her tears.
It looked like pictures of the surface of the moon, pitted and ashy, and above was a scorched sky, gray and yellow, cloudless. The sun hung orange and low, a dead cinder. Not that Isabelle really looked around herself before Alec ran to her down a hill, while she was struggling to her feet. He caught her in a one-armed hug. "Iz," he said.
She made a sound suspiciously like a sniffle and pulled away from him. "I'm all right," she said. There were tear tracks on her face, though, she knew that. She knew Alec could see them.
"Max?" he asked.
She nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears and anger. Of course Isabelle would be angry. She hated to cry.
"Me too," he said, and then whirled at the sound of a footstep, half-pushing Isabelle behind him.
It was Clary, and beside her, Simon. They both looked shell-shocked. Isabelle moved out from behind Alec. "You two...?"
"Fine," Simon said. "We... saw things. Weird things."
"It was a demon," Alec said. "The kind that feeds on dreams and wishes. I killed it." He glanced from them to Isabelle. "Where's Jace?"
Clary paled under the dirt on her face. "We thought he'd be with you."
Alec shook his head. "He's all right," he said. "I'd know if he weren't —"
But Clary had already spun back around and was half-running back the way she'd come; after a moment Alec followed her, and so did the others. They scrambled up the rise, and then up another rise. Isabelle realized she was heading for higher ground, where the view would be better. She could hear Clary coughing; her own lungs felt coated with ash.
Dead, she thought. Everything in this world is dead and burned to dust. What happened here?
At the top of the hill was a cairn of stones — a circle of smooth rocks, like a dried-out well. Seated on the edge of the cairn was Jace, staring at the ground.
"Jace!" Clary skidded to a halt in front of him, dropped to her knees, and caught at his shoulders. He looked at her blankly. "Jace," she said again, urgently. "Jace, snap out of it. It's not real. It's a demon, making us see the things we want. Alec killed it. Okay? It's not real."
"I know." He looked as if he'd been bleeding out, though he was obviously uninjured.
"What did you see?" Alec said. "Max?"
Jace shook his head. "I didn't see anything."
"It's all right, whatever you saw. It's all right," Clary said. She leaned in, touched Jace's face; Isabelle was reminded acutely of Flick's hands over her face in the dream. "I saw Sebastian," Clary said. "I was in Idris. The Fairchild house was still standing. My mom was with Luke. I—there was going to be a wedding." She swallowed. "I had a little sister, too. She was named after Valentine. He was a hero. Sebastian was there but he was fine, he was normal. He loved me. Like a real brother."
"That's messed up," Simon said. He moved closer to Isabelle, and they stood shoulder to shoulder. Jace reached out and ran a careful finger down one of Clary's curls, letting it wind around his hand.
"We all have dreams," Clary said. "It doesn't mean anything. Remember what I said before? We stay together."
Jace kissed her forehead and stood up, holding out a hand; after a moment Clary took it, and rose to her feet beside him. "I didn't see anything," he said gently. "All right?"
She hesitated, clearly not believing him; just as clearly, she didn't want to press the point. "All right."
"I hate to bring this up," Isabelle said, "but did anyone see a way back?"
Alec thought of his headlong rush over the desert hills, searching for the others, eyes raking the horizon. They all paled as they glanced around. "I think," he said, "that there is no way back. Not from here, not down the tunnel. I think it closed up after us."
"So this was a one-way trip," said Clary, with only a slight tremble to her voice.
"Not necessarily," said Simon. "We have to get to Sebastian — we always knew that. And once we get there, Jace can try to do his thing with the heavenly fire, whatever that is — no offense —"
"None taken," said Jace, casting his eyes up to the sky.
"And once we rescue the prisoners," said Alec, "Magnus can help us get back. Or we can figure out how Sebastian gets back and forth; this can't be the only way."
"That's optimistic," said Isabelle. "What if we can't rescue the prisoners, or we can't kill Sebastian?"
"Then he'll kill us," said Jace. "And it won't matter that we don't know how to get back."
Clary squared her small shoulders. "Then we'd better get to finding him, hadn't we?"
Jace tugged his stele free of his pocket, and took Sebastian's bracelet off his wrist. He closed his fingers around it, using the stele to draw a tracking rune on the back of his hand. A moment passed, and then another; a look of intense concentration passed over Jace's face, like a cloud. He lifted his head.
"He's not that far," he said. "A day, maybe two days of walking away." He slid the bracelet back onto his wrist. Alec looked at it pointedly, and then at Jace.
"Wearing it will keep me from losing it," Jace said, and when Alec said nothing, Jace shrugged and started off down the hill. "We should get moving," he called back over his shoulder. "We've got a long way to go."
They had been walking for what seemed like hours now. The uneven ground made the walking harder. None of the hills were very high, but they were pathless, and covered in shale and jagged rock. Sometimes there were plains of sticky, tarry pitch to cross, and their feet sank in almost to the ankles, dragging down their steps.
They paused to put on runes for sure-footedness and strength, and to drink water. It was a dry place, all smoke and ashes, with the occasional bright river of molten rock sludging through the burned land. Their faces were already smeared with dirt and ash, their gear powdered with it.
"Ration the water," Alec warned, capping his plastic bottle. They had paused in the shadow of a small mountain. Its jagged top snarled up into peaks and crenellations that made it resemble a crown. "We don't know how long we'll be traveling."
Jace touched the bracelet on his wrist, and then his tracking rune. He frowned at the traced pattern on the back of his hand. "The runes we just put on," he said. "Someone show me one."
Isabelle made an impatient noise, then thrust out her wrist, where Alec had inked a speed rune earlier. She blinked down at it. "It's fading," she said, a sudden uncertainty in her voice.
"My tracking rune as well, and the others," said Jace, glancing over his skin. "I think runes fade more quickly here. We're going to have to be careful about using them. Check to make sure when they need to be applied again."
"Our Speed runes are fading," Isabelle said, sounding frustrated. "That could be the difference between two days of walking and three. Sebastian could be doing anything to the prisoners."
Alec winced.
"He won't," Jace said. "They're his insurance that the Clave will turn us over to him. He won't do anything to them unless he's sure that won't happen."
"We could walk all night," Isabelle said. "We could use Wakefulness runes. Keep applying them."
Jace glanced around. Dirt was smudged under his eyes, and across his cheeks and forehead where he'd rubbed the palm of his hand. The sky had deepened from yellow to dark orange, smeared with roiling black clouds. Nightfall was near.
"When Wakefulness runes fade, you crash," Jace said. "Then we'll be facing Sebastian basically hungover — not a good idea."
Alec followed Jace's gaze around the deadly landscape. "Then we're going to have to find a place to rest. Sleep. Aren't we?"
They argued about it for a while, though after a moment, Isabelle noticed Clary and Simon had wandered a few feet away. She gazed out over the plain, at the acres of bleakness ahead, the view choked with dust. "Did you see something?"
"What about those caves?" Simon asked, gesturing toward the dark entrances tunneling into the mountainside. "They're shelter —"
"Good idea," Jace said. "We're in a demon dimension, God knows what lives here, and you want to crawl into a narrow dark hole and —"
"All right," Simon interrupted. "It was just a suggestion. You don't need to get pissed off —"
Jace, who was clearly in a mood, gave him a cold look. "That wasn't me pissed off, vampire —"
A dark piece of cloud detached itself from the sky and darted suddenly downward, faster than any of them could follow. Wings and teeth and dozens of red eyes, and then Jace was rising up into the air, caught in the clawed grip of an airborne demon.
Isabelle screamed. Clary's hand went to her belt, but the demon had already shot back up into the sky, a whirl of leathery wings, emitting a high-pitched squeal of victory. Jace made no noise at all; Isabelle could see his boots dangling, motionless. Was he dead?
Alec already had his bow out, an arrow notched and ready.
"Shoot it!" Clary screamed at him.
He spun like a dancer, scanning the sky. "I can't get a clear shot; it's too dark — I could hit Jace —"
Isabelle's whip uncoiled from her hand, a glimmering wire, reaching up, up, impossibly up. Its shimmering light illuminated the clouded sky, and the demon screamed again, this time a shrill cry of pain. The creature was spinning through the air, tumbling over and over, Jace caught in its grip. Its claws were sunk deep into his back — or was he clinging to it? Alec swore, and let an arrow fly. It shot upward, piercing the darkness; a second later a heaving dark mass plummeted to earth and hit the ground with a whump that sent up a cloud of powdery ash.
They all stared. Splayed, the demon was large, almost the size of a horse, with a dark green, turtle-like body; limp, leathery wings; six centipede-like clawed appendages; and a long stem of a neck that ended in a circle of eyes and jagged, uneven teeth. The shaft of Alec's arrow protruded from its side.
Jace was kneeling on its back, a seraph blade in his hand. He plunged it down into the back of the creature's neck viciously, over and over, sending up small geysers of black ichor that sprayed his clothes and face. The demon gave a squealing gurgle and slumped, its multiple red eyes going blank and lightless.
Jace slid from its back, breathing hard. The seraph blade had already begun to warp and twist with ichor; he tossed it to the side and looked levelly at the small group of his friends, all staring at him with expressions of astonishment.
"That," he said, "was me pissed off."
Alec made a sound halfway between a groan and an expletive, and lowered his bow. His black hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat.
"You don't all have to look so worried," Jace said. "I was doing fine."
Clary, light-headed with relief, gasped. "Fine? If your definition of 'fine' suddenly includes becoming a snack for a flying death turtle, then we are going to have to have words, Jace Lightwood —"
"It didn't vanish," Simon interrupted, looking as stunned as the rest of them. "The demon. It didn't vanish when you killed it."
"No, it didn't," Isabelle said. "Which means its home dimension is here." Her head was craned back, and she was studying the sky. "And apparently these demons can go out in the daylight. Probably because the sun here is almost burnt out. We need to get out of this area."
Simon coughed loudly. "What were you all saying about taking shelter in the caves being a bad idea?"
"Actually, that was just Jace," said Alec. "Seems like a fine idea to me."
Jace glared at them both, and scrubbed a hand across his face, succeeding in smearing the black ichor across his cheek. "Let's check the caves out. We'll find a small one, scout it thoroughly before we rest. I'll take first watch."
Alec nodded and started to move toward the nearest cave entrance. The rest of them followed.
But they made it only a few feet into the tunnel before they found the way blocked with a metal gate. Alec cursed, looking back over his shoulder. The cave entrance was just behind them, and through it they could see orange sky and dark, circling shapes.
"No — this is good," Jace said, stepping closer to the gate. "Look. Runes."
Runes were indeed worked into the curves of the metal. They spoke of protection, of the fending off of demonic forces, a whisper in the back of Isabelle's head. "They're protection runes," Clary said. "Protection against demons."
"Good," said Simon, casting another anxious glance back over his shoulder. "Because the demons are coming — fast."
Jace shot a glance behind them, then seized the gate and yanked at it. The lock burst, shedding flakes of rust. He pulled again, harder, and the gate swung open; Jace's hands were shimmering with suppressed light, and the metal where he had touched it looked blackened.
He ducked into the darkness beyond, and the others followed, Isabelle reaching for her witchlight. Simon came after, then Alec last, reaching out to slam the gate shut behind them. Clary took a moment to add a locking rune, just to be sure.
Isabelle's witchlight flared up, illuminating the fact that they were standing in a tunnel that snaked forward into darkness. The walls were smooth, marbled gneiss, carved over and over again with runes of protection, holiness, and defense. The floor was sanded stone, easy to walk on. The air grew clearer as they made their way deeper into the mountain, the taint of fog and demons slowly receding until they were all breathing more easily than they had since they had come to this realm.
They emerged at last into a large circular space, clearly crafted by human hands. It looked like the inside of a cathedral dome: round, with a massive ceiling arching overhead. There was a fire pit in the center of the room, long gone cold. White stone gems had been set into the ceiling. They glowed softly, filling the room with dim illumination. Isabelle lowered her witchlight, letting it blink off in her hand.
"I think this was a place to hide," Alec said in a hushed voice. "Some sort of last barricade where whoever lived here once would be safe from the demons."
"Whoever lived here once knew rune magic," Clary said. "I don't recognize them all, but I can feel what they mean. They're holy runes, like Raziel's."
Jace slung his pack off his shoulders and let it slide to the ground. "We're sleeping here tonight."
Alec looked dubious. "Are you sure that's safe?"
"We'll scout the tunnels," Jace said. "Clary, come with me. Isabelle, Simon, take the east corridor." He frowned. "Well, we're going to call it the east corridor. Here's hoping this is still accurate in the demon realms." He tapped the compass rune on his forearm, which was one of the first Marks most Shadowhunters received.
Isabelle dropped her pack, took out two seraph blades, and slid them into holsters on her back. "Fine." She just wanted to do something.
The glow of her witchlight bounced off the runed walls of the cave. There wasn't much to see here, and Isabelle, as much as she appreciated Simon's company, was really not in the mood to talk much. But, Simon didn't seem to agree.
"He bought me a drink, you know," he said, after a long stretch of silence.
Isabelle couldn't brinng herself to feel interested. But, "Who?"
"Flick. After you guys did your evacuation via portal. He took me out for a drink."
Isabelle found herself chewing on her lip. And saying nothing.
"He's a nice guy, you know," Simon added, with some hesitation. "I'm glad you have him. He probably suits you. Better than I would have."
She wanted to say something to that, except what came out was, "Did you hear that?"
Before he could answer, it happened again. It sounded like a rustle and a cry, coming from the part of the tunnel they hadn't explored yet. Isabelle took off at a run, her witchlight bouncing wildly off the walls.
The tunnel had only one more curve before it ended in the remains of a shattered metal gate. Beyond what was left of the gate, a plateau of stone that sloped down to a blasted landscape. The plateau was rough, shingled with rock and heaps of weathered stone. Where it met the sand below, the desert started up again, dotted here and there with black, twisted trees. Some of the clouds had cleared, and Isabelle, looking up, made a little gasping noise. "Look at the moon," she said.
Simon looked — and started. It wasn't so much a moon as moons, as if the moon itself had been cracked apart into three pieces. They floated, jagged-edged, like shark's teeth scattered in the sky. Each gave off a dull glow, but it was not enough for Isabelle to see without a rune.
And so she turned to Simon, knowing that even a Farsighted rune wouldn't give her better vision than Simon's, especially here, where runes faded so quickly. "What can you see?"
"There are demons out there. A lot. Mostly airborne."
Isabelle's tone was grim. "So they can come out during the day, but they're more active at night."
"Yeah." Simon strained his eyes. "There's more. There's a stone plateau that goes for a distance, and then it drops off and there's something behind it, something shimmering."
"A lake, maybe?"
"Maybe," Simon said. "It almost looks like —"
"Like what?"
"Like a city," he said reluctantly. "Like a demon city."
"Oh." He saw the implications hit Isabelle, and for a moment she paled; then, being isabelle, she straightened up and nodded, turning away, away from the wrecked and shattered ruins of a world. "We'd better get back and tell the others."
They ran back to where the others were, as fast as they could. "The east corridor ends in a door," Isabelle said without preamble as soon as they got there. "A gate, like the one we came in through, but it's broken. And there are demons, the flying kind. They're not coming near here, but you can see them. Someone should probably keep watch, just to be safe."
"I'll do it," Alec said, standing up. "I'm not going to sleep anyway."
"Me neither." Jace scrambled to his feet. "Besides, someone should keep you company." He looked at Clary, who offered an encouraging smile.
"There are three moons," Isabelle said and sat down by the food, reaching for a granola bar. "And Simon thought he saw a city. A demon city."
"I wasn't sure," Simon added quickly.
"In the books Edom has a capital, called Idumea," said Alec. "There could be something. We'll keep an eye out." He bent to retrieve his bow and started off down the east corridor. Jace retrieved a seraph blade, kissed Clary quickly, and headed after him.
Clary settled down to sleep. isabelle didn't think she'd be able to.
[ooc: NFB, NFI, OOC-okay, CoHF.]
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Annnd there's more OW incoming later.]