ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴʟʏ ꜰɪʀᴇ ~ ᴛᴍɪ

Chapter 18 - Fearless

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

The Inquisitor's gaze was filled with controlled anger but her face was calm as if she was biding time to tell something. She was in her gray cloak, her colorless hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her eyes were gray chips and the look she was giving Jace made his confidence slip away. He got the reason why she was made the Inquisitor; to handle maniacs like his own father, Valentine.

Jace said nothing, keeping his face unreadable. He knew that he couldn't work his way out of this. He did leave the house last night, without informing Magnus or even Allison to meet his father. He borrowed a motorcycle from the head of the city's vampire clan and he flew it to the boat, where Valentine was. Somehow the Inquisitor—of all people—figured it out.

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

"Give it to me." The Inquisitor snatched it out of his hand. He winced as a sharp pain erupted on his inner palm; the edge of the glass had cut him, and blood welled up. 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 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. He wondered if he'd ever see the rain in Idris again.

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. Jace sucked in his breath.

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."

Jace felt his anger simmer. "You've been spying on me," He said. "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 and get your Marks stripped."

"Complicit?" To everyone's surprise, it was Robert who had spoken.

"Yes," the Inquisitor said.

"Including me," Allison spoke at last, her sharp blue eyes not meeting his. "I was the one to monitor his movements to find out if he was having any contact with his father. I failed."

"You haven't," the Inquisitor said. 

Robert let out a dark laugh. "Of course, she's not. She's your granddaughter after all—"