As the weeks went on Jace began to train more and more, and read less and less. Books seemed less comforting than they once did, and he only turned to one when there was no other option or when Robert insisted he would become ill if he didn't take a break.

He slept fitfully, tossing and turning and waking up screaming for his mother, wanting so desperately to be back in Idris with Tessa's comforting words and visits to Magnus and a loving for books. He wanted his stupid tutor who bored him to death and he wanted his old bed and he wanted home.

At least I have Alec now, he thought as he deflected a blow to the ribs with his forearm and struck his friend in the throat. Alec backed up chocking and singled for the fight to end.

The first of the winter winds had started to blow in, in recent weeks, and so Izzy (that's what she had told him to call her) had been taken shopping by her mum. It made him think of his last birthday, when his own mother had taken him shopping, except it had been for books and not for clothes. He turned away from Alec and let a tear slide down his cheek.

"I still want to know who Will Herondale is," Jace told Alec when he had wiped it away and walked from the room with his friend by his side

"So do I, but who else might know who he is?" Alec asked when suddenly Jace had an idea.

"We could break into the silent city and –"

"NO!" was Alec's immediate response, "we are not breaking into anywhere, not when someone else might know."

Jace didn't want to listen to Alec, and he might have gone alone if he was able to navigate the streets of New York on his own. Instead he settled on Alec's idea, to simply ask every shadowhunter they knew and hope for the best, which in his defence might have been less life threatening and less likely to get us in trouble with Robert and Maryse. But what shadowhunters did he know.

He decided he would just have to trust Alec to help him.

Her back pressed up against a cold wall and shackles keeping her from moving to far, Tessa Herondale tried to reach the window of her cell for the fiftieth time that day. It was exhausting, considering the lack of food and water, and her spirit broke a little more every time she failed.

She just wanted to see where she was. She felt as if she hadn't rested since she arrived in this hell, but she knew she had, the taunts and threats from that boy had been enough to make her bang her head against the wall until she lost consciousness.

Sighing she dropped to the ground, squeezing her head between her knees until she heard the door creak open and heard a plate clatter to the ground, most likely with nothing more than a few pieces of dried bread and a mug of water.

"Pay some respect, stand up," the boy commanded, and not wanting to risk the chance of a beating like the ones she received when she first arrived and refused to do as she was told, she dragged herself to her feet.

"It's funny really," the boy said, pacing in front of her cell, "that you don't know who I am."

"What does it matter who you are?" Tessa asked, cringing at how weak her voice sounded.

"I know who you are; wouldn't you like me to return a favour?" The boy sniggered, pulling himself up to the bars. She noticed for the first time how his golden eyes reminded him so much off Jace's. She hadn't wanted to think about how alike the boys looked before, but now she couldn't help herself. The boy's hair was paler, but he had a jaw like Stephens and his cheek bones, well, they reminded her of her sons. Her real sons.

He sniggered again at her realisation. "Smart girl. You know I'm a Herondale, but not whom I'm born of."

"I don't really want to know," Tessa, wanting so impossibly to curl up in the corner of her cell and block off the boy's voice. She was so weak she couldn't think of anything more to say, or even bother to think of escaping. So she sucked it up and let the boy speak.

"My parents were James Herondale and Grace Blackthorn," he said, poking his nose through the bars as he grabbed hold of them. "And my name's Isaac."