Cassandra Clare: City of Ashes

"There was a time when you didn't live by it either," said Luke. High color flooded Maryse's cheeks. "I would have thought," he went on, "that by now you would have gotten past not being able to trust anyone, Maryse."

"Some things you never forget," she said. Her voice held a dangerous softness. "You think pretending his own death was the biggest lie Valentine ever told us? You think charm is the same as honesty? I used to think so. I was wrong." She stood up and leaned on the table with her thin hands. "He told us he would lay down his life for the Circle and that he expected us to do the same. And we would have—all of us—I know it. I nearly did it." Her gaze swept over Jace and Clary and her eyes locked with Luke's. "You remember," she said, "the way he told us that the Uprising would be nothing, hardly a battle, a few unarmed ambassadors against the full might of the Circle. I was so confident in our swift victory that when I rode out to Alicante, I left Alec at home in his cradle. I asked Jocelyn to watch my children while I was away. She refused. I know why now. She knew —and so did you. And you didn't warn us."

"I'd tried to warn you about Valentine," said Luke. "You didn't listen."

"I don't mean about Valentine. I mean about the Uprising! When we arrived, there were fifty of us against five hundred Downworlders—"

"You'd been willing to slaughter them unarmed when you thought there would be only five of them," said Luke quietly.

Maryse's hands clenched on the desk. "We were slaughtered," she said. "In the midst of the carnage, we looked to Valentine to lead us. But he wasn't there. By that time the Clave had surrounded the Hall of Accords. We thought Valentine had been killed, we're ready to give our own lives in a final desperate rush. Then I remembered Alec—if I died, what would happen to my little boy?" Her voice caught. "So I laid my arms down and gave myself up to the Clave."

"You did the right thing, Maryse," said Luke.

She turned on him, eyes blazing. "Don't patronize me, werewolf. If it weren't for you—"

"Don't yell at him!" Clary cut in, almost rising to her feet herself. "It's your fault for believing Valentine in the first place—"

"You think I don't know that?" There was a ragged edge to Maryse's voice now. "Oh, the Clave made that point nicely when they questioned us—they had the Soul-Sword and they knew when we were lying, but they couldn't make us talk—nothing could make us talk, until—"

"Until what?" It was Luke who spoke. "I've never known. I always wondered what they told you to make you turn on him."

"Just the truth," Maryse said, sounding suddenly tired. "That Valentine hadn't died there in the Hall. He'd fled—left us there to die without him. He'd died later, we were told, burned to death in his house. The Inquisitor showed us his bones, the charred amulet he used to wear. Of course, that was another lie…" Her voice trailed off, and then she rallied again, her words crisp: "It was all coming apart by then, anyway. We were finally talking to one another, those of us in the Circle. Before the battle, Valentine had drawn me aside, told me that out of all the Circle, I was the one he trusted most, his closest lieutenant. When the Clave questioned us I found out he'd said the same thing to everyone."

"Hell hath no fury," Jace muttered, so quietly that only Clary heard him.

"He lied not just to the Clave but to us. He used our loyalty and our affection. Just as he did when he sent you to us," Maryse said, looking directly at Jace now. "And now he's back, and he has the Mortal Cup. He's been planning all this for years, all along, all of it. I can't afford to trust you, Jace. I'm sorry."

Jace said nothing. His face was expressionless, but he'd gone paler as Maryse spoke, his new bruises standing out livid on his jaw and cheek.

"Then what?" Luke said. "What is it you expect him to do? Where is he supposed to go?"

Her eyes rested for a moment on Clary. "Why not to his sister?" she said. "Family—"

" Isabelle is Jace's sister," interrupted Clary. "Alec and Max are his brothers. What are you going to tell them? They'll hate you forever if you throw Jace out of your house."

Maryse's eyes rested on her. "What do you know about it?"

"I know Alec and Isabelle," said Clary. The thought of Valentine came, unwelcome; she pushed it away. "Family is more than blood. Valentine isn't my father. Luke is. Just like Alec and Max and Isabelle are Jace's family. If you try to tear him out of your family, you'll leave a wound that won't ever heal."

Luke was looking at her with a sort of surprised respect. Something flickered in Maryse's eyes—uncertainty?

"Clary," Jace said softly. "Enough." He sounded defeated. Clary turned on Maryse.

"What about the Sword?" she demanded.

Maryse looked at her for a moment with genuine puzzlement. "The Sword?"

"The Soul-Sword," said Clary. "The one you can use to tell if a Shadowhunter is lying or not. You can use it on Jace."

"That's a good idea." There was a spark of animation in Jace's voice.

"Clary, you mean well, but you don't know what the Sword entails," Luke said. "The only one who can use it is the Inquisitor."

Jace sat forward. "Then call on her. Call the Inquisitor. I want to end this."

" No ," Luke said, but Maryse was looking at Jace.

"The Inquisitor," she said reluctantly, "is already on her way—"

"Maryse." Luke's voice cracked. "Tell me you haven't called her into this!"

"I didn't! Did you think the Clave wouldn't involve itself in this wild tale of Forsaken warriors and Portals and staged deaths? After what Hodge did? We're all under investigation now, thanks to Valentine," she finished, seeing Jace's white and stunned expression. "The Inquisitor could put Jace in prison. She could strip his Marks. I thought it would be better…"

"If Jace were gone when she arrived," said Luke. "No wonder you've been so eager to send him away."

"Who is the Inquisitor?" Clary demanded. The word conjured up images of the Spanish Inquisition, of torture, the whip and the rack. "What does she do ?"

"She investigates Shadowhunters for the Clave," said Luke. "She ensures the Law hasn't been broken by Nephilim. She investigated all the Circle members after the Uprising."

"She cursed Hodge?" Jace said. "She sent you here?"

"She chose our exile and his punishment. She has no love for us, and hates your father."

"I'm not leaving," said Jace, still very pale. "What will she do to you if she gets here and I'm gone? She'll think you conspired to hide me. She'll punish you —you and Alec and Isabelle and Max."

Maryse said nothing.

"Maryse, don't be a fool," Luke said. "She'll blame you more if you let Jace go. Keeping him here and allowing the trial by Sword would be a sign of good faith."

"Keeping Jace—you can't be serious, Luke!" Clary said. She knew using the Sword had been her idea, but she was beginning to regret ever having brought it up. "She sounds awful."

"But if Jace leaves," said Luke, "he can never come back. He'll never be a Shadowhunter again. Like it or not, the Inquisitor is the Law's right hand. If Jace wants to stay a part of the Clave, he has to cooperate with her. He does have something on his side, something the members of the Circle did not have after the Uprising."

"And what's that?" Maryse asked.

Luke smiled faintly. "Unlike you," he said, "Jace is telling the truth."

Maryse took a hard breath, then turned to Jace. "Ultimately, it's your decision," she said. "If you want the trial, you can stay here until the Inquisitor comes."

"I'll stay," Jace said. There was a firmness in his tone, devoid of anger, that surprised Clary. He seemed to be looking past Maryse, a light flickering in his eyes, as if of reflected fire. In that moment Clary couldn't help but think that he looked very like his father.