CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

ALEC

Rebecca's eyes were expressionless as they followed Mark down the tunnel. Again, Alec couldn't tell what she was thinking at all. Was she relieved to see him? Or did she blame herself for what had happened to him?

"You gave him your witchlight," Isabelle said. "You've always had that witchlight-"

"Screw the witchlight." Rather than sounding angry or indifferent, Rebecca sounded brittle, like something inside of her was on the verge of breaking. Without warning, she slammed her fist into the side of the cave wall. With a grimace, she withdrew her hand.

"Rebecca," Alec started to say. Then Simon interrupted, startling everyone a little. He'd been oddly quiet throughout their encounter with Mark.

"Guys," he said. "I don't know if you can see it, but there's something-something at the end of the tunnel."

"A light?" Jace said. Alec knew him well enough to detect the undercurrent of sarcasm in his tone, but he was not sure that anybody else noticed it.

"The opposite." Simon moved forward, and the rest of them followed hesitantly in his wake. A few hundred meters ahead, the tunnel curved slightly, and then they all saw what Simon must have seen - darkness. The tunnel ended in a whirling vortex of darkness. Something moved in it, shaping the dark like the wind shaping clouds. None of them said anything at first; they were all frozen to the spot, unable to do anything except watch the darkness shift and move like a living thing.

Almost compelled by the silence, Alec said, "This is the craziest thing we've ever done."

"What if we can't ever come back?" Isabelle said. The ruby around her neck was pulsing, glowing like a stoplight, illuminating her face.

"Then at least we'll be together," Clary said, and looked around at her companions. She reached out and took Jace's hand, and Simon's hand on the other side of her, and held them tight. "We go through together, and on the other side we stay together," she said. "All right?"

Nobody answered, but Isabelle took Simon's other hand, and grabbed Alec's. Alec reached out for Rebecca; her fingers were clammy.

They stepped forward, and the shadows swallowed them up.

THE SEELIE QUEEN

"Mirror, my mirror," said the Queen, placing her hand upon the mirror. "Show me my Morning Star."

The mirror hung on the wall of the Queen's bedroom. It was surrounded by wreaths of flowers: roses from which no one had cut away the thorns.

The mist inside the mirror coalesced, and Sebastian's angular face looked out. "My Queen," he said. His voice was calm and composed, though there was blood on his face and clothes. He was holding his sword, and the stars along the blade were dimmed with scarlet. "I am... somewhat occupied at the moment."

"I thought you might wish to know that your sister and adoptive brother have just left this place." The Queen hesitated. "The Lightwood girl is with them too."

Hope flared in Sebastian's eyes, but he squashed it almost immediately. "So she has betrayed me?"

"Yes, my Morning Star," the Queen said breathily. "It pains me to see you so hurt, but as I recall-"

"I assume," Sebastian interrupted, "that they made you promise not to tell me that they came to your court?"

"They did," said the Queen. "They said nothing about telling you of leaving."

Sebastian laughed.

"They killed one of my knights," said the Queen. "Spilled blood before my throne. They are beyond my reach now. You know my people cannot survive in the poison lands."

"Then I shall take your revenge for you," Sebastian replied; a muscle twitched in his jaw. "And I shall show her what the real price of betrayal is."

REBECCA

Rebecca was sitting in front of a mirror. Isabelle hovered impatiently behind her, a stick of lipstick in her right hand. She eyed it critically. "No, red isn't really your color."

Before Rebecca could say anything, Isabelle grabbed another tube, one that Rebecca recognized as lipgloss. Kneeling down, Isabelle dabbed it onto her sister's lips. "Much better." Looking pleased, she got to her feet. "By the way, the perfume you got me is heavenly. Where did you find it?"

Rebecca opened her mouth to answer – though she didn't know what to say – and was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Guys?" Clary's voice, sounding slightly muffled. "Everyone's waiting."

Rebecca got up, and almost tripped over her feet. And no wonder – she was wearing high heeled slippers. And a dress. It was inky black, sleeveless, and fell right to her knees. Her hair, she realized, shone, falling in soft waves over her shoulder. She was also wearing make-up: eye-shadow and mascara and eyeliner and whatever else they called it.

"Coming!" Isabelle said impatiently. She was adjusting her own dress – a strapless maroon affair that hugged her body. Once she was done, she linked her arm with Rebecca's. "Ready?"

They were in the Lightwood manor in Alicante. Of course, a small voice whispered in the back of Rebecca's head. There's a party tonight, to celebrate yours and Isabelle's twenty-first birthday.

Downstairs in the entrance hall, lit chandeliers cast a soft glow over the whole room. People milled around, clutching drinks in their hands. There was food laid out on the table.

"There they are!"

Alec was making his way towards them, a big grin on his face. He was wearing a black suit, and he looked positively alight with happiness. Magnus trailed behind him, wearing his usual enigmatic smile and a glittery red suit.

"Happy birthday, biscuit." Magnus grinned, gesturing all around. "Is this a party, or is this a party?"

Rebecca couldn't help but grin in return. "It's amazing, Magnus. Thank you."

After that, it was just a blur. Isabelle soon vanished, leaving Rebecca to mingle on her own. People kept coming up to her and wishing her. She had just escaped from a particularly exhausting conversation with Peter Hallowdale, when she felt someone's hands cover her eyes.

"Guess who?" The voice that whispered in her ear was more familiar to her than her own.

"I don't have to." She grinned. "You're late, by the way." Rebecca removed the hands covering her eyes and turned around to face him. Pale blond hair, green eyes – her heart swelled just looking at him.

Jonathan smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I-"

Rebecca didn't let him finish. She pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. "I'm just glad you're here."

His smile grew even wider. "Wait here."

"Where are you going?"

But he was already gone, pushing through the crowd. As she watched, he climbed partway up the staircase leading to the upper floors and raised his hands. "Can I have everyone's attention please?"

It took a few minutes for people to realize that he was speaking. Rebecca was glaring at him, trying to catch his eye so that she could ask him what the hell he was doing, but he was determinedly avoiding her gaze.

"First of all, I'd like to wish a very happy twenty-first birthday to two of the most beautiful ladies in the world – Rebecca and Isabelle Lightwood!"

Everyone clapped. Some even whistled. Rebecca spotted Isabelle standing with her arm linked through Simon's, smiling widely. Maryse stood beside Isabelle, her arm linked through her husband's. Robert was chuckling heartily at something Magnus had said. Beside Magnus was Alec, shoulder to shoulder with Jace, who was standing with his arm around Clary.

Everything was so perfect, and yet... something was missing. The feeling was like a punch to the gut; for a moment, Rebecca felt so lightheaded she thought she might lose her balance. She forced herself to return to the present.

"...something even more special tonight," Jonathan was saying. "Rebecca Lightwood, I love you. I have loved you since the day I set eyes on you."

The crowd 'awwwed' in unison.

"Which is why," Jonathan continued, pulling out a dark red velvet box from his pocket. The crowd gasped collectively. "I have to ask you this."

He got down on one knee, and his eyes found Rebecca in the crowd. "Rebecca Marie Lightwood, will you marry me, Jonathan Cristopher Morgenstern?"

The crowd was silent. Everyone's eyes were on Rebecca, compelling her to say yes – wasn't this what she wanted? Did she not love Jonathan with all her heart? She wanted to say yes. Could life be any more perfect than this moment right here? And yet, something was missing. Or more like someone.

"Erm," Rebecca said. It sounded almost deafening in the silence. Hating the feeling of all those eyes on her, she pushed towards the staircase as fast as her heels would allow, took Jonathan by the hand, and led him up the staircase.

Once they were out of view, Jonathan said, "Are you okay?"

The concern in his expression was enough to make her heart melt like butter. "I'm sorry," she said, feeling her breath hitch in her throat. "I just need-"

"More time?" He kissed her gently. "Then you have it. I'll always be right here, Becca."

"I need to-" Why couldn't she get any words out properly? "I need to see Max."

Jonathan's expression became almost grave. "Of course, I understand."

He started walking down the hallway. Rebecca followed, not sure what he was doing – wouldn't Max be at the party downstairs?

She was just about to ask him what was going on when he opened the door to her room at the end of the hallway and walked through without hesitation.

Rebecca followed, stepping through the door to see him standing at her bedside table, head bent. "Jonathan, what-"

But the words died in Rebecca's throat as he turned around and held out a framed picture - a picture of a young boy with round glasses and curly hair. He was smiling, but not in the way that most kids smile; this was more of a shy smirk, like he knew something that nobody else did.

It was Max, of course.

"What is this?" Rebecca felt cold all over. "Why are you showing me this?"

Jonathan's eyebrows went up. "I thought you wanted to see Max."

"Yes, but-" she groaned in frustration. "Not his picture! I need to see him. In person. Where is he? He should be at the party, right?"

Jonathan looked quite alarmed now. "Rebecca, are you sure you're alright?"

"Of course I am," she said, a little too sharply.

"Then..." he hesitated. "You should know that Max is dead."

Rebecca felt like someone had poured ice into her veins. "What?"

"Yes, he died five years ago," Jonathan said quietly. "Hodge killed him."

"That can't be true."

"Rebecca-"

"No, it can't be true!" She was screaming the words, her hands pressed tight against her ears, as if that would protect her from the horrible, horrible news.

Jonathan tried to pry her hands away from her ears. "Becca-"

"Max isn't dead because Hodge killed him," she said, finally lowering her hands. Her voice was steady despite her erratic heartbeat. "He's dead because you killed him."

Jonathan stumbled back. "Rebecca, what are you- I didn't!"

She felt her knees give and sank to the ground. There were no more happy party goers, no cake, no laughter, only grey, powdery ash and blackened rock. She pressed her palms to her eyes, hoping that would stop the tears that were finally beginning to fall.