Chapter 38 – From Enemies to Allies

As it turned out the next morning, it would probably be a while before Jace and I would actually be alone. My loose hair shimmered in the sunlight as I crossed the back garden and both Jace and Isabelle were already crouched in the lawn by the trees, both armed to the teeth.

"Clary!" Isabelle grinned from ear to ear as she came within earshot, and she jumped up. "I thought you overslept."

"I didn't expect you," I admitted in a mild voice and smiled. Only one person was missing. "Where's Alec?"

"He's coming," Isabelle said casually, twirling a golden dagger between her nimble fingers. Her dark eyes sparkled eagerly as she followed the dagger's every move. "My mother still needed him for something."

"Interesting," I then remarked, looking over at Jace and giving him a questioning look. So that's what you imagined?

"What?" Jace replied in an almost snippy tone, rolling his eyes and shrugging his shoulders theatrically. Then he nodded in Isabelle's direction. "She's like a limpet, you can't shake her off."

"Hey!" Isabelle cried offended and threw a sword at him. He caught it in one graceful motion, balancing it casually on the palm of his left palm. "This is my training time with Clary. Your own fault."

"She's right," I admitted, grinning at Isabelle, who replied with a quick gesture and then armed herself with a blade as well.

I had actually imagined the meeting with Jace differently today. Quieter, more difficult, more interesting. I'd lain awake half the night, unable to tell if the thought of hours alone with him would end in a disaster similar to our past encounters. In contrast, this was okay, even if it wasn't what Jace had promised me. Maybe it wasn't a bad thing to get to know him better in the safe presence of the others. I still wasn't a hundred percent sure of his intentions.

"So, no rune research today?"

Isabelle shook her head and threw a sword at me as well, but this time more gently than Jace's. "I think we need a day off to clear our heads. We can still care for that tomorrow."

I weighed the blade in my hand and rotated it a few times to get a feel for its weight. Not every sword was the same. In fact, most of them were different. Length, width, material, weight; in addition, there was the fighting style, which was determined by the wearer. Without a feel for your weapon, you were lost on the battlefield. You belong to me, and I belong to you.

I couldn't deny that my father had been a good teacher to me. My fingers closed on the hilt in an iron grip and I stretched out my arm. A sword is so much more than a simple weapon. It is a tool, your extended arm and therefore a part of yourself. Should I be thankful for all the lessons or loathe him for it? I couldn't stop the pride in my chest. Undefeated or simply invincible?

I could feel Jace's eyes on me and he made me uncomfortable. What was going through his mind as he silently analyzed every little movement I made? My eyes snapped up to meet his gaze. A grin crept onto my lips as I saw the spark of uncertainty that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "Afraid?"

"I? Never." It was no more than a whisper, and yet his words reached me. The challenge in it was unmistakable. A playful smile crept onto Jace's lips as he held his sword loosely in mock disinterest.

"Maybe we should change that," I said then, pouncing on him without wasting a second thought.

Jace lunged backward and his sword shot up in front of his chest in a defensive gesture. A high-pitched screech echoed through the garden as my blade met his with powerful speed. The vibration of the metal ran through my limbs, and I could feel the vibrations spreading through my fingers in my body. Jace hadn't expected my first attack, but now his attention shifted. You could almost see his senses soaring and the wary expression in his golden eyes sharpening. A smirk tugged at his lips as he sidestepped to change his strategy. Then he lunged forward, right at me. Our swords crossed again. From a distance I heard an angry snort from Isabelle.

Jace possessed a raw strength in his muscles that only elaborate moves and unpredictable maneuvers could evade. He wasn't an opponent I could take down using my usual techniques. Without the runes to give me strength, endurance, and speed, my body was fickle under my command. As I'd noticed while training under Kadir's tutelage, Jace and I were equals in swordplay. At least under normal conditions. We whirled around each other, trying to break through the other's cover. Every fiber of Jace's body always seemed elegant and dynamic, like a dancer on the floor putting on a flawless performance. Flawless except for the stiffness in his feet which was an obvious contrast to the rest of his demeanor. It was only then that I remembered that Jace wasn't used to train outdoors.

Never expose your weakness in front of your opponent. A grin crept onto my face, and I let him know I was about to play my triumph. For a few sequences I let the game continue between us, waiting for the right moment. Then, as his feet slipped on the thawing ground and he was more concerned with balancing, I slipped through his defense with a rather unusual solution. My own foot caught his knee too quickly to react to that kind of attack. Jace seemed to stagger in mid-air for a second before losing his balance and falling to the ground. A second later I put my blade to his throat. A smile graced my lips as I stared down at him contentedly.

"That was unfair!" Jace's brows rose in surprise, and his wide eyes darted between my sword and my foot, as if he couldn't quite believe his defeat.

"Since when is fighting supposed to be fair?" I tossed my sword in the air and let it spin before placing it on his neck in a loose grip one last time to show my victory. There was triumph in my voice.

Suddenly Jace returned my grin and suddenly it was me who raised my eyebrows in puzzlement. I realized a moment too late that he probably wouldn't play with fair cards from now on either. My fingers tightened on the hilt of my sword in one quick movement. Wrong, a voice cried in my head as my eyes followed Jace's. I should have taken a step back instead. All I saw was his own leg, which he now jerked forward, causing me to fall. I cried out in astonishment as my back hit the wet grass. Not a second later I had sat up and fixed him with angry eyes.

Jace just shrugged and looked angelic as he pressed his sword to my throat. "Since when is fighting supposed to be fair?" he asked, purposefully failing to imitate my voice. "Next time you should wait with your arrogance until you've disarmed me."

We looked at each other for a moment, forgetting the world around us, and I debated whether my anger was justified. A smirk crossed his face, and he reached out a hand to help me up. I sighed to myself, swallowed my pride and allowed myself to be helped up. Nevertheless, I couldn't bring myself to look at him. There was nothing I could do about that barrier in my chest that kept me from behaving like a normal, mature person who met defeat with acceptance. It was nothing but a superfluous training match. It didn't change the fact that it was nagging at me. Jace was right: I'd been so confident in my victory because I'd been used to nothing but victory in my life that I'd underestimated it. A deadly mistake.

"Stop making that face," Jace remarked, still eyeing me long after I'd let go of his hand. He pursed his lips suspiciously and folded his arms across his chest. "You're acting like you just lost to Jonathan personally."

I flinched from his words and my head snapped in his direction. The muscles in Jace's body tensed from one second to the next and I could see his attention darting from my eyes to my right hand, where the sword was now twitching. He had hit my sore spot like he could read minds. If I couldn't beat Jace, how was I supposed to beat Jonathan?

"You'd pull the same face if you knew him," I hissed at Jace, my voice expressing the uncertainty that had been with me for days and followed me to sleep.

Something in Jace's expression changed. As if he were looking back in time for a moment and seeing something completely different in his mind's eye. "Maybe you're right," he then said, sounding dissatisfied and optimistic at the same time. "But that doesn't mean we can't turn the tide for the better."

The lump in my throat swelled and I struggled to control the fear in my heart. The tremor in my limbs that always arose when Jonathan was a topic turned into a seething silence. My eyes sought his and I took a slow step towards him without breaking our eye contact. "We have to do everything we can to make it happen."

Jace's face brightened a little as a gentle smile curled his lips. He opened his mouth to reply, but Isabelle forestalled him. "If you're finished, I'd like to continue." She stood a few feet away from us, watching us with a boredom that seemed too fake to be real. Her own blade flapped in her hand, eager to fight.

"You can fight the loser," Jace quipped, trying to lighten both of our moods. He grinned and stalked out of reach, though his sparkling eyes remained on me, which I met with a wall of reluctance, still choking on my breath from our brief exchange. Not out of anger at him, but out of fear of what would happen to each of those people if I wasn't able to stop Jonathan. "The practice won't hurt her if she wants to be the best."

"She is the best," another voice interjected at that moment, making even Isabelle whirl around. Adam and Alec walked toward us, side by side, looking kind of out of place in their formal Clave attire. Adam waved as he came to a halt beside me and I returned his gesture with a smile, trying to push my unhappiness away. In Adam's presence it was always so easy to forget your worries, even if it was only for the moment.

"Thank you very much, at least someone here who recognizes my talent," I replied sarcastically and threw my silver sword into the snowy grass. "What are you doing here?"

"I figured if you trained yesterday, maybe you'd do it today, too," Adam explained, looking at the others while ruffling his dark brown hair. Alec had positioned himself a few feet between Isabelle and Jace. They all looked ready for battle. "I see I was right."

"If I'd known you were interested in joining, I'd have let you know," I explained, a little embarrassed that I hadn't even considered it before. Even though our friendship wasn't easy, he had always stood by me and still did.

"How nice," Jace said, and both Adam and I looked over at him, but his back was to us as he positioned himself in starting position in front of Isabelle.

"Are you going to take my place now?" I asked indignantly and our conversation flooded my consciousness again. Shouldn't I have fought Isabelle?

"You're too busy chatting," he said coolly and seconds later began his attack on Isabelle, which she skillfully dodged. She spun on her own axis and then launched her own attack.

I pressed my lips together in confusion. A few minutes ago, everything had been fine between us and now his own cold barrier pushed in between us again. I want to try being friends with you. He had only said it yesterday. I wondered what it was this time that had apparently provoked him so much. Or maybe he had just pretended to be friendly to me because he had finally realized that a friendship between us was simply not possible. We're not on the same side. My hands clenched into fists almost automatically. His mood swings unsettled me. What was all this for? Would this Jace always behave like this towards me when other people were around? Because when we were alone, his emotions hardly seemed to slip away.

"Before I forget, Clary," Alec suddenly spoke up, to my surprise. "I am to tell you something from my mother. Lucian Graymark has got back to you regarding your request, and he has agreed to a meeting. Tonight."

I raised my eyebrows in astonishment. "Already tonight?" Alec just shrugged. Apparently Maryse hadn't told him who Lucian was and what I had to do with him. "Well, if Luke can set it up, then so can I."

That made Adam sit up and take notice. He tilted his head thoughtfully and narrowed his eyes. "Wasn't Luke that werewolf?"

"He was once a Shadowhunter and my mother's best friend before my father betrayed him," I confirmed. Adam knew the story.

"And you're supposed to conduct these ... negotiations with him now?" he asked skeptically and scratched his forehead. "Who accompanies you?"

"No one yet. The Inquisitor will certainly have someone to monitor because she doesn't trust me."

"I don't like that," Adam pointed out. "You alone among these ... Downworlders ... This could end ugly, especially with your last name."

I just shrugged. Luke would never hurt me, at least if he was the man he'd pretended to be. "Then accompany me."

"You want me to accompany you to a meeting with a bunch of werewolves?" Adam didn't sound really convinced. His tone bothered me, even if I couldn't place it exactly. It reminded me of the other Shadowhunters who looked down on the Down World with a devious hubris. Each of them was part of it.

Did Adam dislike werewolves? Or was it the Downworlders in general he wasn't particularly fond of? You'd think he'd be used to them, having grown up at the Toronto Institute. But perhaps even the Nephilim in the Institutes were not as cosmopolitan as was rumored. I shrugged again. "Just an offer." Actually, I wanted to add that I was only going to meet up with Luke and not his entire pack. But Luke was an alpha. His second and third would never let him come alone to a meeting in Alicante. Especially not at a time like this.

"I'm coming with you!" Isabelle shouted over the storm of swords. As expected, it was no question, she had invited herself, which was just fine with me. She was still struggling with Jace and seemed a little out of breath as he pretty much backed her into a corner.

Maybe it would be good if Isabelle went with me. I would need someone who would be kind to the Shadowworlders, and she was one of the most open people I knew. "Deal."

"And Alec and Jace are coming too," Isabelle added after her next turn and giggled.

"Certainly not," Jace snorted, slashing his blade at Isabelle's with such intensity that she had to clench her teeth to keep from falling to her knees. She gave him a defiant look. "Oh yes you will, there's no room for discussion."

"Well, if you all go, then I'll come too," Adam finally gave in. His green eyes were fixed on the fight and yet I was sure his mind was elsewhere. Where was his usual enthusiasm?

"Well, that could be something," Alec murmured and sighed exhaustedly, as if the day hadn't just started.

oOo

There were more werewolves present at the meeting with Luke than I had anticipated. In addition to his second and third in the order of precedence, another member of his pack had arrived. They were all very tall and broad men that I could fit into three of them. Luke sat in the middle of a long table while his pack stood at a respectful distance behind him, each sizing us up warily and distrustfully with their yellow eyes. Their tense, alert posture indicated that they were on constant alert should anything go wrong. They tried to be intimidating.

Their show of strength showed success with me. Every fiber of my body was on alert, and my ears were filled with my father's warnings and curses like a constant sonication.

To my displeasure, the Inquisitor had not informed me that representatives of the other members would also be present. Magnus Bane took the chair to Luke's right and winked at me as the first entered the negotiation room, the others in close formation behind me. Next to Magnus squatted a pale figure I didn't recognize. I had never met a vampire, but I knew immediately that he was one of their kind. He had short, glossy black hair, a pair of black, predatory eyes, and the palest skin I had ever seen. And yet he must have been of Central or South American descent before his death, for his skin still had a sparkling touch of pale olive.

The vampire eyed me with open hostility and bared his teeth as I sat down in front of them on the other side of the table. It was enough to trigger Adam. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, noticing the child of the night. He smiled demonically in Adam's direction. Blood was pounding in my ears. "Go ahead, Nephilim," the vampire said with a slight Central American accent. "I've been waiting far too long to get my hands on one of you."

"Quiet now, Raphael," Magnus rebuked, smiling charmingly while lightly laying a hand on his companion's arm. "Have you forgotten again what the reason for our visit is?"

The vampire, Raphael, didn't answer, but his nostrils flared in silent response. I stared at him uncertainly. Magnus rolled his eyes and waved him off. "Don't worry, he barks but doesn't bite." Raphael growled and turned his head away.

My gaze wandered back and forth between the three representatives of the Downworlders. The fairies were absent. I waited for the others to sit down too. Isabelle and Adam took the seats on either side of me. Everyone was armed to the teeth. Everyone except Isabelle and me. Isabelle, because she knew the Underworld well enough to understand the signal from our weapons. Me, because I wasn't allowed to carry weapons. Perhaps the Inquisitor was hoping that one of the Shadowworlders would just kill me.

"Thank you for coming," I finally began the negotiation and put all my strength into my voice to suppress the trembling in it. A room full of demonic blood; all my instincts screamed to flee. I could feel Adam and Alec's confused looks on me. Like me, they must have wondered why there was more than one representative present. Jace might have guessed. Isabelle didn't seem to care. I chose to ignore that detail and play the cards as if their presence didn't surprise me in the slightest. "Can someone explain to me why no emissary from the Fair Folk has joined us tonight?"

"The Seelie Queen is a lot smarter than us and can see through your lies," Raphael said, but didn't seem to bother to look at me.

"That's a shame," I admitted, clasping my hands on the table in front of me to quell the urge to play with them. "But I'm sure we'll come to an agreement. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Clary Morgenstern and I'm the representative of the Nephilim on this matter." Then, one by one, I introduced my companions. Luke acknowledged each of them with a short nod, his eyes lingering on the Lightwoods. Magnus's gaze swept silently over each of us, and Raphael hissed again.

"We know who you are, Morgenstern," he said in a menacing voice, arching his back as he glared at me hatefully. "It is an insolence that the Clave sent you to clarify this problem. It just goes to show how little they actually care about us."

A sigh caught in my throat as I considered how to answer that. Isabelle forestalled me. "Clary is one of us. If we trust her, so can you, Raphael. As long as we keep an eye on the problem and don't get caught up in our past histories, hopefully we'll be able to guarantee safety for all our peoples again soon."

"Wise words, my dear," Magnus interjected thoughtfully, not looking at anyone in particular. "Yet your Clave makes it difficult to give credence to you. The Shadowhunters broke the Accords by leaving the Shadow World defenseless in the cities of this world. These negotiations won't get to a solution unless the Shadowhunters choose to return."

"Let's at least try," I pleaded. "We want to accommodate you and turn the Accords to what they were before my father revealed himself to the Shadow World."

"At least she's admitting to being part of the problem," Raphael remarked, pulling a grimace I couldn't interpret.

Anger welled up in me. Was I up to this? I doubted it. If my father had his way, I should kill these creatures, not negotiate with them. And yet I couldn't help but understand their motivations. They were just outcasts as I was, albeit in a different way. It didn't change the voice in my head that was going mad with fear.

The meeting with the Downworlder representatives took place in a secluded room of the Gard. Presumably so that the general population would not see them coming or going. Though Raphael's spirit didn't really settle as the conversation progressed, Magnus was the driving force that kept him from crossing a line. Luke rarely interrupted us and let Magnus do the talking. He only made comments when he felt it was important. Magnus was really helpful. He tried to forget his anger at the Clave, for he quickly realized that we couldn't help their actions any more than the Shadow Worlders. His ideas were helpful, as was his criticism when he found our suggestions too superficial or one-sided. Yet devising a mutually beneficial plan proved just as difficult as expected. We knew that the Clave was unlikely to agree to anything we put together. The Nephilim were too proud to do anything to accommodate the Downworlders. And yet, at the next Clave meeting, I would have to make it clear to them that that was the only realistic step to take if they were to avoid war with the Underworld. Because there would be war, Luke and Magnus made it abundantly clear to us, if the Clave did not deviate from its current course and left the Shadow Worlders alone with Valentine.

The tension in the room was almost unbearable. Each of us knew that one wrong move could bring about a rapid succession of actions. Luke's wolves, who were constantly pacing back and forth behind the representatives, didn't lose their nervousness for a second. Being in the same room with a vampire probably didn't help their self-control at all. But not everything went smoothly from our side either. Adam next to me was just as nervous as I was. His eyes darted back and forth between the Shadow Worlders, and you could see that he felt more than uncomfortable. His normally friendly and open face had fallen into a rigid mask of displeasure. Unlike Jace, who watched the negotiations with an almost bored neutrality, he seemed wary. His right hand rested steadily on the hilt of his weapon, which worried me. With every movement, even the smallest, his fingers twitched as if he couldn't control himself. I had to nudge him with my foot more than once to remind him why we were here. He must not have been understating when he had expressed his distaste for being here this morning.

Although command of the negotiation was in my hands, I was not a too active part of it. I had no idea how to talk to Shadow Worlders, nor how to overcome my prejudice against them. So, most of the time I kept my head down and let Isabelle take the wheel, who formed a fluent duo with Alec. She provided the communication and he the ideas on how to package the solutions for the Clave so that it didn't reject them all in the first meeting. Though he was visibly uncomfortable with his position, over time he earned visible respect from werewolves and warlock alike.

The hours ticked by and for a long time I didn't feel that our efforts were going to be of any use. But as the evening wore on and everyone's patience dwindled, some admissions were finally made by both parties. The Shadow Worlders seemed a bit happier at the end than when the negotiations had started, but our draft was nothing more than that: a draft.

Luke squeezed my shoulder once before leaving the Gard and muttered, "Even though we're on different sides, we can be allies. You didn't just show me that today. I can't promise anything regarding the draft. Each of us will have to sell it to our people, but I hope for the best. We cannot afford another war now."

I was grateful for his words, even if his touch gave me goosebumps. A war with the Shadow Worlders would be catastrophic; mutually. Valentine and Jonathan would stand on the sidelines, laughing, waiting until our ranks were decimated enough to easily subjugate this world. That was what we would have to teach the Clave at the next Clave meeting: to treat the Shadow Worlders not as enemies or collateral damage, but as allies.

-

Hello hello,

What do you think about this chapter? Please like and comment to support my work! :)

See you,

Skyllen