Cassandra Clare - City of Ashes

"I know your name, Magnus Bane," said the Inquisitor. "You've failed in your duty once; you won't get another chance."

"Failed in my duty?" Magnus frowned. "Just by bringing the boy here? There was nothing in the contract I signed that said I couldn't bring him with me at my own discretion."

"That wasn't your failure," the Inquisitor said. "Letting him see his father last night, that was your failure."

There was a stunned silence. Alec scrambled up off the floor, his eyes seeking out Jace's—but Jace wouldn't look at him. His face was a mask.

"That's ridiculous," Luke said. Clary had rarely seen him look so angry. "Jace doesn't even know where Valentine is. Stop hounding him."

"Hounding is what I do, Downworlder," said the Inquisitor. "It's my job." She turned to Jace. "Tell the truth, now, boy," she said, "and it will all be much easier."

Jace raised his chin. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"If you're innocent, why not exonerate yourself? Tell us where you really were last night. Tell us about Valentine's little pleasure boat."

Clary stared at him. I went for a walk , he'd said. But that didn't mean anything. Maybe he really had gone for a walk. But her heart, her stomach, felt sick. You know what the worst feeling you can have is ? Simon had said. Not trusting the person you love more than anything else in the world .

When Jace didn't speak, Robert Lightwood said, in his deep bass voice: "Imogen? You're saying Valentine is—was—"

"On a boat in the middle of the East River," said the Inquisitor. "That's correct."

"That's why I couldn't find him," Magnus said, half to himself. "All that water—it disrupted my spell."

"What's Valentine doing in the middle of the river?" Luke said, bewildered.

"Ask Jonathan," said the Inquisitor. "He borrowed a motorcycle from the head of the city's vampire clan and he flew it to the boat. Isn't that right, Jonathan?"

Jace said nothing. His face was unreadable. The Inquisitor, though, looked hungry, as if she were feeding off the suspense in the room.

"Reach into the pocket of your jacket," she said. "Take out the object you've been carrying with you since you last left the Institute."

Slowly, Jace did as she asked. As he drew his hand out of his pocket, Clary recognized the shimmering blue-gray object he held. The piece of the Portal mirror.

"Give it to me." The Inquisitor snatched it out of his hand. He winced; the edge of the glass had cut him, and blood welled up along his palm. Maryse made a soft noise, but didn't move. "I knew you'd return to the Institute for this," said the Inquisitor, positively gloating now. "I knew your sentimentality wouldn't allow you to leave it behind."

"What is it?" Robert Lightwood sounded bewildered.

"A bit of a Portal in mirror form," said the Inquisitor. "When the Portal was destroyed, the image of its last destination was preserved." She turned the bit of glass over in her long, spidery fingers. "In this case, the Wayland country house."

Jace's eyes followed the movement of the mirror. In the bit of it Clary could see, there seemed to be a trapped piece of blue sky. She wondered if it ever rained in Idris.

With a sudden, violent motion at odds with her calm tone, the Inquisitor dashed the piece of mirror to the ground. It shattered instantly into powdery shards. Clary heard Jace suck his breath in, but he didn't move.

The Inquisitor drew on a pair of gray gloves and knelt among the bits of mirror, sifting them through her fingers until she found what she was looking for—a single sheet of thin paper. She stood, holding it up for everyone in the room to see the thick rune written on it in black ink. "I marked this paper with a tracking rune and slipped it between the bit of mirror and its backing. Then I replaced it in the boy's room. Don't feel bad for not noticing it," she said to Jace. "Older heads and wiser than yours have been fooled by the Clave."

"You've been spying on me," Jace said, and now his voice was colored with anger. "Is that what the Clave does, invade the privacy of its fellow Shadowhunters to—"

"Be careful what you say to me. You are not the only one who's broken the Law." The Inquisitor's chilly gaze slid around the room. "In releasing you from the Silent City, in freeing you from the warlock's control, your friends have done the same."

"Jace isn't our friend," said Isabelle. "He's our brother."

"I'd be careful what you say, Isabelle Lightwood," said the Inquisitor. "You could be considered complicit."

"Complicit?" To everyone's surprise, it was Robert Lightwood who had spoken. "The girl was just trying to keep you from shattering our family. For God's sake, Imogen, these are all just children—"

"Children?" The Inquisitor turned her icicle gaze on Robert. "Just as you were children when the Circle plotted the destruction of the Clave? Just as my son was a child when he—" She caught herself with a sort of gasp, as if gaining control of herself by main force.

"So this is about Stephen after all," said Luke, with a sort of pity in his voice. "Imogen—"

The Inquisitor's face contorted. "This is not about Stephen! This is about the Law !"

Maryse's thin fingers twisted as her hands worked at each other. "And Jace," she said. "What's going to happen to him?"

"He will return to Idris with me tomorrow," said the Inquisitor. "You've forfeited your right to know any more than that."

"How can you take him back to that place?" Clary demanded. "When will he come back ?"

"Clary, don't ," Jace said. The words were a plea, but she battled on.

"Jace isn't the problem here! Valentine is the problem!"

"Leave it alone, Clary!" Jace yelled. "For your own good, leave it alone!"

Clary couldn't help herself, she flinched away from him—he'd never shouted at her like that, not even when she'd dragged him to their mother's hospital room. She saw the look on his face as he registered her flinch and wished she could take it back somehow.

Before she could say anything else, Luke's hand descended onto her shoulder. He spoke, sounding as grave as he had the night he'd told her the story of his life. "If the boy went to his father," he said, "knowing the kind of father Valentine was, it is because we failed him, not because he has failed us."

"Save your sophistry, Lucian," said the Inquisitor. "You've gone as soft as a mundane."

"She's right." Alec was sitting on the edge of the sofa, his arms crossed and his jaw set. "Jace lied to us. There's no excuse for that."

Jace's jaw dropped. He'd been sure of Alec's loyalty, at least, and Clary didn't blame him. Even Isabelle was staring at her brother in horror. "Alec, how can you say that?"

"The Law is the Law, Izzy," said Alec, not looking at his sister. "There's no way around that."

At that, Isabelle gave a little gasping cry of rage and astonishment and bolted out the front door, letting it swing open behind her. Maryse made a move as if to follow her, but Robert drew his wife back, saying something in a low voice.

Magnus got to his feet. "I do believe that's my cue to leave as well," he said. Clary noticed he was avoiding looking at Alec. "I'd say it's been nice meeting you all, but, in fact, it hasn't. It's been quite awkward, and frankly, the next time I see a single one of you will be far too soon."

Alec stared at the ground as Magnus stalked out of the living room and through the front door. This time it shut behind him with a bang.

"Two down," said Jace, with ghastly amusement. "Who's next?"

"That's enough from you," said the Inquisitor. "Give me your hands."

Jace held his hands out as the Inquisitor produced a stele from some hidden pocket and proceeded to trace a Mark around the circumference of his wrists. When she took her hands away, Jace's wrists were crossed, one over the other, bound together with what looked like a circlet of burning flames.