Chapter 93 – Phase After Phase

--- 3 hours before sunset. ---

Phase 2 meant the division of the unit. The three groups were already set, as she had chosen them herself this morning. Jace tried to focus his thoughts on the next steps of this phase of the plan instead of thinking about her again.

In the blink of an eye, Maia and Lyall transformed into their animal form and sprinted off eastward as soon as Aaron gave them the signal. The rest of the unit stared after them until they disappeared behind ebony trunks and gray-green bushes, their silhouettes visible from a distance longer than their footsteps could be heard.

Aaron wasted no time in gathering his half of the group around him. To Jace's surprise, his gaze rested on him as he turned to the other half. "May we all meet again at the appointed time," was all he said before turning on his heel and running off. South.

Jace turned to the remaining members of the unit and stood next to his Parabatai, who was now the leader of this group. His eyes swept over the others. Jace's heart immediately sank. She was missing. She should have been here. Instead, an unknown Nephilim had taken her place. Jace had to bite his lip so hard to hold back the bile that he tasted blood. He felt Isabelle step to his left side and examine him out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored the sting of her gaze. She could not be better off than him, even if she probably had her emotions better under control.

"Let's go," Alec said at that moment, and Jace's feet began to move beneath him as if by themselves.

Their path led the group west. They ran through the undergrowth so fast that it almost felt like floating. All thanks to Magnus, who at least apparently kept them hidden from enemies. The second phase of the plan was quite simple. Each group would approach the lake from a different direction, with Maia and Lyall's only job being to create a distraction with their scent. They had no idea how many fairies the Seelie Queen had provided Valentine, but their sense of smell was much sharper than that of humans. Later, the wolves would join Aaron's team, so the groups were almost evenly matched. What happened next depended on how long they remained undetected.

The snapping of wood, the rustle of leaves, the cracking of loose stones faded into the background as he ran, masked by the rush of the wind of resistance. Once Jace's focus took hold, it was as if each sound stood out among the trees, without affecting any other senses. Jace's senses were on high alert without any extra effort. Perhaps it was the angelic power, or perhaps it was the thirst for vengeance that drove him. Whatever the cause, he was the first to hear the arrow. A high-pitched hiss, too steady for a gust of wind.

Despite his head start, a warning sound was all Jace could utter before the arrow whizzed past him. Too sudden to adequately warn anyone. "Take cover!" he ordered after he caught his breath and threw himself behind the broad trunk of a fir tree.

"Magnus!" Jace heard Alec call. He whirled around, a seraph blade in his fingers, although he knew it would not be much use against snipers.

Magnus was still standing on the unmarked path they had just been walking along. Everyone else had taken cover behind plants. With a calculating sweep of his eyes, Jace confirmed that no one had been hit and was bleeding to death on the hilly forest floor. He spotted the black head of his Parabatai a few firs to his right, from the direction they had come. He was drawing his bow, as was the Nephilim who had replaced her. But before either of them could even draw an arrow of their own, Magnus had already brought their enemy to the ground with a sweeping pull of his hand.

Jace immediately jumped out from behind his trunk. "Watch the trees!" Alec shouted at the same time. Jace took two long steps before he was standing in front of the tall faerie knight, who was struggling to get to his feet. He didn't hesitate as he slid his blade through the faerie's chest. Seconds later, his boots were dripping with blood, but Jace didn't notice. He already raised his head, ready to dodge the next arrow, but Alec covered his back as promised.

His arrow hissed past Magnus and Jace in a controlled manner. A brown flash in the white limbo that the Brocelind Forest had turned into. A suppressed groan later, the next knight fell from a treetop.

"Forward!" Alec now ordered and the unit obeyed as if it consisted of one and the same body.

Adam rushed to Jace's side, and the faerie raised his elaborately curved blade in defense. Decorated with ornate letters and patterns, Jace was fairly certain that even the slightest scratch from the metal would curse anyone it cut. Adam's dodge after each rasping parry testified that he must be thinking the same thing.

While Adam kept the still-living faerie busy, Jace continued on their path. As if on a silent signal, a wave of arrows burst from several parallel fir trees. Magnus's magical shield was all that kept them from piercing Jace. Having narrowly escaped death, he still felt not a spark of fear.

"Works better than your invisibility spell," he remarked dryly, barely smiling as Magnus shot him a withering look. But even the slightest twitch of the corners of his mouth caused Jace physical pain. A smile as fake as his emotionless masks had once been.

"In the past, the Nephilim at least showed gratitude when their lives were saved," Magnus replied, huffing.

"I doubt that," Jace replied, running toward a faerie knight who voluntarily left his high hiding place to fight him.

"Even the Herondales had respect in the old days!" Magnus instructively called after him but extended the shield in front of Jace like a second skin, protecting him from further shots.

Such a shame that the faerie was able to pass through without being harmed. With lighter feet than Jace would have liked, he landed in the snow-covered foliage a few meters in front of him and lunged at him before he had even touched the ground with both feet. The raised sword clanged screechingly against Jace's seraph blade. A hectic exchange of blows followed, interrupted only by graceful turns and evasive maneuvers from the knight. He may be in the service of the Seelie Queen, but he could not be one of her elite warriors.

Jace had never considered himself a murderer. Until now, it had always been demons that had come across his blade. And killing demons wasn't murder. Running a sword through a living, breathing creature was something else entirely. It should have terrified him; it should have given him goosebumps. But Jace felt nothing of the sort. Neither sympathy nor remorse nor relief.

The seraph blade cast a dim light into the darkening forest. As it pierced the faerie's chest, cracking his ribs in a manner so similar to what had happened to her, Jace's sword flickered for a second. Probably in response to the demon blood of the faerie, who immediately started gurgling. Jace must have punctured his lung. With a powerful tug, he pulled his sword out of the writhing man, who immediately slumped and then fell forward. The dark red blood dripped from the sharp side of the blade, staining the snow.

Jace's eyes could not help but linger on the trickle. Suddenly the snow was no longer just an annoying obstacle in the terrain, but was up to his ankles. The forest that surrounded him vanished and a blood-spattered hill appeared before him. In the blink of an eye, the world before Jace was suddenly different. As if from far away, a high, heart-rending whimper reached his ears. His heart instantly clenched.

"Jace!" Isabelle's warning scream catapulted him back to the present and he was able to duck just in time to avoid the axe of another faerie.

"Where's your head?!" his sister screamed, hitting him with her palms in the chest so hard that he stumbled back and almost lost his balance. "He almost beheaded you and you didn't even notice!"

"I–" Jace searched frantically for a response, but the sight of her flashing eyes made him stop trying to find an excuse. Isabelle's crazed expression was fixed on him as if he were the enemy. A quick glance to the side told him that the rest of the group had taken care of the remaining sniper cell.

"I, I, I." Isabelle practically spat the three words at his feet. She was furious. "Who does your guilt-filled daydreams help, hm? Not Clary and certainly not us! So stop distracting yourself and do what you came here to do!"

It was pure instinct to bare his teeth when she said her name. Jace's fingers clenched into iron fists, but he could not even part his lips before Isabelle continued her honor-robbing tirade.

"Don't look at me like you're the only one who has the right to mourn her!" Isabelle yelled even louder. She seemed to be putting every millimeter of her lung capacity into her anger, causing him to flinch. Everyone within miles had to hear her. But his sister didn't care one bit that this completely sabotaged the mission. "I was her Parabatai, her best friend! I lost Clary just like you did. Just because your love for her was different than mine doesn't bring you any closer to her! You don't have a higher claim to her! You–"

Isabelle suddenly controlled the anger that had shot out of her like magma from a volcano. Something blinked in her pupils and Jace already thought she was realizing the extent of her self-sabotage. To his surprise, her chin turned to Magnus, who nodded at her with a tense mouth. Only now did Jace notice the blue sparks that trickled out of the warlock's hands like little stars. His eyes widened in astonishment.

Isabelle didn't miss Jace's reaction. She pulled a judgemental face, an expression of pure disapproval. "Did you think I'd be stupid enough to jeopardize our mission just to reprimand you?" She shook her hair out as if she wanted to get rid of the thought. "Magnus's protective wall includes an acoustic barrier. But of course you don't know that because you weren't listening. Because you've been in your own bubble the whole time."

Jace didn't turn to his Parabatai because he already knew that he would find nothing but confirmation of Isabelle's statements there. After all, she was right. He hadn't listened. He had done nothing but trust his instincts and hope that they would carry him through this fight. Because he could not stand a single waking second in this world. Because every breath hurt, as if someone was impaling him with a knife. Over and over again.

"You forced me out of my bed because I owe her. So make sure you don't die before you pay your debt," Isabelle said between clenched jaws, pointing her index finger directly at his chest. It rose and fell at a rhythm that was far too fast. Jace didn't feel like these trees produced much oxygen anyway.

"That's enough, Izzy," Alec finally intervened, placing himself as a physical barrier between his arguing siblings. He must have sensed Jace's conflict, otherwise he would have let Isabelle finish her tirade. Usually, he supported appropriate criticism. Now he raised his hands in a placating gesture. His blood-free armor reflected the weak light that the sun could force through the canopy of leaves. "We all want to finish Clary's plan. So let's work together to make Clary's final wish come true."

Jace felt himself nodding, but every mention of her name tasted like poison on his tongue. Sweat ran down his forehead, sticking to tangled strands of hair, even though he had barely exerted himself.

Without further delay, Alec issued a series of orders. Isabelle reluctantly withdrew from Jace's private space and stalked away. Not without throwing him one last meaningful glance over her shoulder, of course. He didn't miss how she absentmindedly ran her fingertips over the spot where her Parabatai rune had been this morning. The gesture deepened the rift in his heart.

Back in formation, they continued their march – this time more cautious of other snipers. Far too quickly they came across the next obstacle. Adam, who was leading the way with Alec, was the first to spot it: a small group of faerie knights consisting of two women and two men who had set up camp in a narrow clearing. Two of them were keeping watch with their backs to their companions. The other two were crouched on tree stumps next to each other and sharpening their weapons.

Adam stopped in his tracks, crouched down in the grass and pressed a finger to his lips without making a sound. Fairies had much more developed senses than humans, so even the slightest noise could alert them. Since the clearing was at the foot of a hill, it was strategically disadvantageous. A stupid decision by the faeries to settle here where they could easily be overlooked.

But maybe the whole thing was just a trick. There wasn't much distance between them. Maybe the faeries wanted them to see the short distance as a simple superiority. It was quite possible that they had prepared the short distance with a variety of fairy traps. Alec must have had the same thought, because he didn't give the order to attack. Crouching in the undergrowth next to Adam, he drew his bow instead, one of the knights in his sights.

The arrow never reached its target, as only a moment before a fifth faerie stepped into the clearing out of nowhere. Smaller and more agile than the warriors already assembled, he was panting for air as if he had just covered a long distance. He turned his head hastily across the clearing – the action lacking any of the elegance usually associated with fey. Instead, he seemed harried, as any other human would have been after a long sprint.

The other faeries drew their weapons in surprise, only to relax at the sight of their colleague. "Hast thou tidings from the commander?" asked one of the seated men without hesitation.

"Thy unit shall abide here for ground surveillance, but Eiran is bid to return to the base."

Alec and Adam exchanged a glance at the ancient language of the faeries. Some habits that one didn't shed in light of immortality. Magnus, on the other hand, rolled his eyes, as if this interaction with the faeries alone was tiring enough.

"Why? I already possess too few men here. I cannot do without any further," replied the faerie, who was apparently the leader of this troop.

"The sunset draweth nigh," the courier replied shortly, not seeming happy about having to explain himself. His protruding fangs made no secret of it. "Lord Valentine doth journey to the south side of the lake to perform the ritual. As the trail of strangers hath been discerned in the east, the commander desireth to augment his guard. There must be no disturbances."

From their hiding place, the Nephilim exchanged pleased glances. Maia and Lyall's diversion had succeeded.

"Very well. Take Eiran and depart."

Alec's fingers tightened around the bow. Knowing where Valentine was going could decide the outcome of this war. They could not allow a single faerie from this unit to return to the base alive. And so Jace's Parabatai didn't hesitate as he finally let the patient arrow hit its first target. The rest of their group rushed out of the grass before the leader's body hit the ground.

None of the Nephilim dared slide down the slope, fearing the possible traps lurking in the thick grass. Fortunately for them, none of the faeries hesitated to run up the slope themselves, knowing exactly where not to put their feet. As soon as their leader fell, the rest of the troop whirled around and attacked with a roar of anger, without approaching the matter strategically.

Jace's group outnumbered the faeries seven to four, so the battle was won quickly and without loss. In retrospect, only Magnus seemed a little sad. "Despite my personal differences with the Seelie Queen, I regret this development," he sighed as he watched the others hide the bodies in the undergrowth. "War, no matter how noble the intention, ultimately only leads to the division of the world."

The only person who seemed to be affected by his words was Isabelle. Jace didn't know much about her relationship with Meliorn – not even if it had been more than friendship – but the idea of them being on different fronts clearly displeased her. As soon as she noticed his knowing look, she shaded her features with a gleam.

"What now?" Adam finally burst out. Leaning against a fir tree, he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand – only to leave a fine trail of blood there. Jace and no one else pointed this out to him.

"Isn't it obvious?" Jace stepped up next to his Parabatai, who was studying a map of the Brocelind-Forest on the uneven ground. "Valentine is preparing to summon Raziel south of Lake Lyn. It seems he won't send the demons to Alicante until he has secured Raziel's wish."

"Do you think he knows about ... Clary and Jonathan?" Isabelle asked in a shaky voice. She crouched down in the trampled mixture of earth and snow opposite Alec.

Alec shook his head thoughtfully. "Valentine is an extraordinary strategist, but Jonathan is a crucial part of his plan. If he knew he was dead, he would have acted long ago. He doesn't know that the demon towers are still active."

"At least not yet," Magnus added, scratching his chin as if that would speed up his thinking. "It's been less than five hours since their death and Imogen is trying everything to prevent the news from spreading. Sooner or later, his followers will manage to inform Valentine."

"Then we move on to phase three?" asked one of the two Nephilim, whose names Jace had forgotten. "We must use this advantage while we still have it."

Alec didn't answer right away. His fingers absentmindedly ran over the crumpled map, marking their distance to the south side of the lake. Then he rolled it up and got to his feet with a slow nod. When his eyes met Jace's, there was a deep seriousness in his sky-blue irises. As if he had suddenly gained maturity in the past few hours.

The Parabatai exchanged a long, silent look, not letting anyone else in on their communication. This weighed more heavily than many decisions, and although Jace felt for his brother, he didn't envy him his position. Yet everyone already knew what had to come next. What Clary had planned next.

"Phase three," Alec confirmed simply.

oOo

Although it was a detour, Alec insisted on giving the now-abandoned faerie outpost a wide berth. No one uttered a word of protest, as no one in the unit was interested in finding out if the clearing was actually paved with faerie traps. Not even Jace, which surprised Isabelle a little in all his irrationality of the last few hours – and relieved her. If he died before the day was over, it would do no one any good. And certainly not his guilt.

The further they ventured into the forest, the denser the firs stood around them; the less sunlight was allowed through the thick canopies. As almost all surfaces were covered in snow, reflecting that sparse light, it was slightly brighter than it would have been under normal circumstances. The Brocelind Forest was known for how easily one could get lost and wander aimlessly for days — if one ever found their way out at all. Here — away from civilization and humanity — the nuances of moisture and vegetation enveloped everything around Isabelle. The scent of water hung heavily in the air. Frost-covered rock, melting moss, damp needles. With each step, the aroma of the wilderness seemed to cling to her more strongly. Even the bite of the blood sticking to their weapons could not compete.

Alec had studied the map carefully and was now at the front of the new path towards Lake Lyn. Every time Isabelle watched him without him noticing, she felt a surge of pride rise within her. The last few months had changed them all, but Alec had grown into a responsible, wise young man. His need to use his voice for what was morally right touched her all the more against the background of her parents' history.

As when they first arrived in Brocelind Forest, the unit had returned to their line formation, with Alec leading and Jace at the back. They walked head to head through the increasingly thick and hilly undergrowth, and Isabelle sighed inwardly at the thought that they could not run any faster. It was too dangerous after the encounter with the snipers – not that that fact changed Isabelle's state of mind in any way.

And so, for the next few minutes, she focused solely on listing the benefits of this brisk pace. It was a distraction that Isabelle had used, not for the first time, to keep her composure. It was easier to concentrate on the things she could control than to think about what was beyond her control.

Like Clary's death. But once distracted, it was hard to find a way out of the confusion of her thoughts. Isabelle's heart sank into her stomach, only to implode there in a black hole. Controlling this vortex was almost impossible. In the Basilias, it had been the powerful image of their revenge. How they all stood before Valentine Morgenstern and executed him for every one of his actions. Because this man had done so much more than steal Clary from her. This man had already brought her family to the brink of existence once.

Never again, Isabelle whispered in her head, clinging to her iron will to turn that whisper into a shout.

Where there were no patrols waiting for them, the forest in the direction to the lake was paved with traps. Most of them were magical in nature, so that after much discussion and dissatisfied expressions, Alec finally handed over the lead to Magnus. It had been a good idea of Clary's to give each team a warlock.

Despite everything, Isabelle could not shake the nagging feeling in her gut that their mission so far had gone far too smoothly. Despite their good rate so far, her subconscious didn't believe that the entire unit would make it to shore. Clary had been too convinced that this mission was one of suicide.

Perhaps her statement had not been about that part of the plan, but about what lay ahead. Defusing the faerie traps took time they didn't have. But not all of them were fatal. Plant tendrils that wrapped around your limbs, poisoning you little by little. Nets laced with thorns that would catapult you into the air and keep you trapped if you stepped on them. Foot traps hidden by leaves whose triggers played an irresistible melody that made you forget your real goal. It seemed as if they wanted to delay their advance rather than prevent it, which only increased Isabelle's suspicions.

Just as a turquoise-blue glitter suddenly shimmered towards them through the distant rows of trees like a sapphire sparkling in the sunlight, it happened. The gasp of surprise at suddenly seeing their destination made them lose their attention for a moment. Magnus, whose concentration was focused solely on the ground and surroundings, misinterpreted the group's rapid change of mood as a signal of danger. His head shot up, too quickly for his foot to stop moving.

Branches cracked as Magnus's boot hit the ground. For some unspeakable reason, everyone knew what would happen before the trap was even triggered. Alec lunged forward, a warning cry on his tongue – his tone so filled with fear that Isabelle felt a panic of her own well up inside her.

Wood groaned, but the sound came from the wrong direction. It didn't come from Magnus. Instead, it echoed from the right. A sound too low to have come from a few branches cracking. It happened far too fast. The trees stood too closely together to make out anything in the distance. Alec practically lunged at Magnus, knocking him over with his weight as a dark hiss filled the air. Isabelle had just enough time to drop to the ground before a gasp of surprise rippled through the woods.

Still lying flat on the ground, Isabelle lifted her chin from under her arms. The forest had not changed. The same silence as before, the same emptiness as before. At least for a moment. Until her eyes went shortsighted and Cai Rosewain, the Shadowhunter in front of her in the line, came into focus. Unlike Isabelle, Cai had not taken cover in time. Her breath caught as their eyes met; the surprise in his eyes much more prominent than the pain that should have been there.

A stake, at least an arm's width and as long as any ordinary arrow, pierced him at the level of his stomach. For several seconds he staggered, as if rooted to the spot, as if his brain, working at full speed, didn't know what to do. Before his legs gave way beneath him and he fell forward into the snow, he choked up a gush of blood.

She scrambled to catch him, but her limbs were frozen in the thin ice beneath her. This time, the metallic smell of blood prevailed, even though Isabelle's nose was practically buried in frozen earth. Frantically searching for enemies and to see if anyone else had shared Cai's fate, she turned around. They were lucky. Everyone else had either been out of the line of fire or had managed to get out of the way in time.

When she finally managed to pull herself up and crawl over to him, his eyelids were already fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. Ignoring the cold of the sticky clay on the insides of her hands, Isabelle pulled out her stele, roughly ripped the collar of his shirt to the side and drew an Iratze. The rune faded within a few seconds. She could barely suppress the frustrated scream that was building in her throat.

The snow crunched to her right as the others approached the scene. Jace crouched down next to her and examined the pole more closely. Isabelle only glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. But she didn't miss his sober expression – as if none of this affected him. Quite the opposite to her, so that she automatically wondered how it had come to this. Had Clary's death robbed him of all emotion? All compassion? What of the big brother that Jace had been to her since birth was still in him? What had Clary taken with her when she had left this world?

Isabelle could not deny that the answers to these questions frightened her, as few things could these days.

"Iratzes are ineffective," Jace stated, pointing with his index finger to the point where the stake had exited Cai's body, careful not to touch the spot.

Following his finger with her eyes, Isabelle could not hold back a dejected sigh. Jace was right. Only visible upon closer inspection was a greenish film forming a coating around the wood. It only extended a few centimeters above the exit point in Cai's body. The faeries had probably only dipped the tip of the stake in poison.

Isabelle grabbed Cai's fingers, squeezing them as tightly as she could without robbing the gesture of its comforting effect. His breathing was already coming in gasps. There was nothing more they could do for him. Out here, with the time pressure of sunset behind him, even Magnus would not be able to heal him. "Clary forgot to take one thing into account in her plan," she murmured, and could practically hear Jace's neck crack as his head whipped around to face her. "She should have taught us the rune to create a portal. Then we could have sent him back to Alicante."

Even Jace was at a loss for a response. No one in the unit broke the silence that followed Isabelle's words. All their eyes were on Cai, whose life force was slowly draining out of him. Not fast enough. Whatever poison the faeries had chosen, it didn't grant a quick, merciful death.

Beside her, Jace stirred as if he was waking from a muscular numbness. His golden irises met Isabelle's, still so devoid of emotion, but on the verge of an impulse that made her hair stand on end. "Give him your last support," was all he revealed about his intention.

When Jace drew a dagger, Isabelle did exactly as he had asked. Her free hand, which wasn't entwined with Cai's sweaty fingers, calmly slid up to his face. She carefully brushed a few sticky, fawn-colored strands from his forehead and finally turned his chin towards her – his eyes away from Jace.

"You're not alone," Isabelle murmured, watching for the reaction in his reddened eyes that showed he heard her.

"Laudine," Cai gasped. More blood flowed from the corners of his mouth. "Tell my Laudine–" A cough shook his upper body and with it the stake. He gasped for air, but his eyes never took off Isabelle. "Tell her that I love her. Her and my children."

It took iron strength not to burst into tears in front of Cai. He didn't deserve that. He had to know that Isabelle would carry out his last wish. "I promise," she replied with the gentleness of angel feathers.

Their eyes were still locked when Jace stabbed him in the carotid artery. Cai twitched one last time and then went limp. His pupils, just a moment ago full of regret and love, took on a glassy expression and Isabelle could only watch helplessly as life vanished from them irretrievably. Until nothing was left but a soulless body. Hastily, her heart pounding, she closed his eyelids.

"Ave atque vale, Cai Rosewain."

Jace flinched from the words and Isabelle also felt a flash of pain run through her limbs as she spoke. Ave atque vale were the last words a Nephilim received in this world – they were a tradition. One that they had completely forgotten with Clary. Judging by the torn panic on Jace's face, he suddenly seemed to realize this too. They had not even visited her body, which was being prepared by the Silent Brothers for its final journey. If there was one at all, Isabelle had deliberately not asked.

Who would speak these three words on her behalf if they all died today too?

"We have to keep going," Jace said through gritted teeth, abruptly turning his back on Cai Rosewain. Even though he was moving away from her, Isabelle could clearly make out the trembling of his fingers.

With the sparkle of the lake as an incentive, the unit, with Magnus in the front line and his meticulous precision, made their way safely through the rest of the area. No other trap caught them off guard, although Isabelle had expected the view of Lake Lyn to distract them and make them reckless. As the towering trees above kept the daylight at bay like shields, the glimmer of the lake revealed the true position of the sun. It glittered in the light of the low sun, reflecting its light several shades brighter than the ruby around her neck. Each step that brought them closer to the shore lengthened the distance between their exchanges. Soon they were back to the sign language that Aaron had used at the beginning of their mission.

And then – sweat, blood and death later – they finally found themselves facing the shore of Lake Lyn. A few rows of trees served as a screen, separating them from the coarse gravel that melted into sand a few meters from the water. They set up a temporary camp in a depression between two rock formations to plan their next move. Alec and Jace were in one of the firs to scout the shore and Valentine's position. The rest of the unit – Magnus, Adam, Isabelle and Paal, who had taken Clary's place – had put their heads together and were preparing for phase 3.

It wasn't long before the Parabatai pair returned, their faces united in a synchronized grimness. "We're in the midst of their forces," Alec began to explain without preamble. "The faerie from the clearing said that Valentine's preparing for the ritual on the south side. We were able to spot a golden tent not far from the beach that is large enough to serve as his headquarters. It's not very busy. Every now and then someone goes in or out."

"Gold. The color of power, eternity and triumph. He must have picked that up from humans." The corner of Magnus's mouth twitched in amusement. "You would think that Valentine has other priorities than putting himself on display like that. But everything known about him confirms that he has a penchant for showmanship."

"What about the north side?" asked Adam. "If we're in the middle of his army, is the rest of them to the north?"

Jace, who towered over the seated Adam like a tree next to a blade of grass, regarded him with a dismissive glance. He didn't even seem to consider giving him an answer. When Alec ended the pause, Jace turned away from them and sat down on a boulder protruding from the hollow, some distance away.

"The majority of the forces are stationed on the north bank. It makes sense because there, the beach is much bigger. In terms of the number of fighters alone, the north clearly surpasses the south. But who knows how many of his troops are hiding in the forests. Eliminating Valentine is a priority. We'll deal with his army soon enough."

"The golden tent is very well positioned strategically," Jace added without looking up. Isabelle watched him as he pulled out the still bloody dagger with which he had just ended Cai's life. An act of mercy or recklessness? The fact that she was unsure made her shiver. Jace wiped the blood off at his armor – where the armor exposed the leather underneath. "Even if we can approach him unnoticed through the forest, there's a chance that another army is waiting for us in the woods behind the tent. It's risky."

"It doesn't matter," Isabelle said. "Phase three requires us to split up. Valentine will surely have an ace up his sleeve. Especially if his position seems lonely at first glance. My team will have to fight their way through one way or another. We can only hope that we have the element of surprise on our side because he won't see us coming."

Hopefully the diversion staged by Maia and Lyall had worked. It would direct Valentine's focus to the wrong east side. He would be more likely to expect an attack from there. If everything went according to plan.

Jace rose from the rock as if he had not sat down there less than a minute ago. "It's time to complete phase three anyway." The restlessness in his limbs was obvious, but the look in his eyes was completely empty. As if there was nothing behind those golden irises. Isabelle thought back to the loving glances he had given Clary, as if she were the center of his entire existence. The smiles that had eradicated any doubt that he wasn't head over heels for her. How many times Isabelle had caught him in a disguised casual movement, always looking for physical contact, however fleeting it might be. Jace's love for Clary was as fervent as Heavenly Fire, hot as a volcano, all-encompassing as the sun. And now that she was gone, there was no oxygen left to keep his flame alive.

Isabelle glanced over at Alec, wondering how much of the pain he was feeling. How much of it was transmitted through their Parabatai bond? So far she had not noticed anything unusual, but you never knew with her brother. He was good at keeping quiet. His chances of making a difference were almost zero anyway. Not even Alec could comfort Jace in these hours. No one could. Jace would not let him get close to him, maybe collapse or worse.

Alec, still in command, nodded before turning to Isabelle. "Magnus, Jace and I will hurry." His feet carried him over to her. His right hand found its way to her shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

Although Isabelle wanted to burst into tears, she raised her red lips in a radiant smile. Alec fell into her embrace as soon as she raised her arms. "And you take care of each other," Isabelle whispered, more confident than she felt. "I hope you're successful."

"We have to be. After all, the whole Shadow World is counting on us."

-

Your opinion on this chapter is particularly important to me. Since this war is a big deal and I'm dealing with a strategist like Valentine, I'm obviously trying to write the plot as excitingly and, above all, as strategically as possible. So my question to you: Do you have any premonitions about how things will continue from here? Do you have any expectations about where Alec's group will end up and what awaits Isabelle's group at the golden tent? That would help me gain an insight into whether I'm good at building up "secrets" while reading or whether my wirting is rather obvious. And whether I might need to rework the next chapters. I'm a fan of big plot twists and of course I would be very happy if I managed to do that myself.

Merry Christmas! A like and comment would be the perfect gift for me by the way! ;)

Skyllen