The Mortal Instruments (Book 1-3)

04. The Clave and the Covenant

"Do you think she'll ever wake up? It's been three days already." Isabelle Lightwood sat in the sickroom, casually examining the unconscious body of the girl her friends had brought to the Institute.

"You have to give her time," Alec said. "Demon poison is strong stuff, and she's a mundane. She hasn't got runes to keep her strong like we do."

"Mundies die awfully easily, don't they?" Isabelle mused.

"It's bad luck to talk about death in a sick-room, Isi." Daphne said.

Isabelle wrinkled her nose. "You and your superstitions."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying."

"I can't believe it's the same girl from before." Alec shook his head. "Why in Azriel's name would you bring her back?"

"Hodge ordered us to." Daphne sighed, laying back in one of the empty, white hospital beds.

"She's such a little thing, isn't she?" Isabelle noted.

"She's not that much shorter than I am," Daphne frowned, pointing out.

"Little, itty, bitty, baby of a thing." Isabelle repeated.

Daphne scowled. "Asshole."

"She really killed a Ravener?" Alec said, clearly unbelieving. "All on her own?"

"That is what I said before, yes." Daphne responded wryly.

"I thought she was a pixie the first time we saw her." Alec said. "She's not pretty enough to be a pixie, though."

"Well nobody looks their best with demon poison in their veins, Alec." Isabelle rolled her eyes. 

"Is Hodge going to call on the Brothers?"

"I hope not." Isabelle wrinkled her nose. "They give me the creeps. Anyone who mutilates themselves like that—"

"We mutilate ourselves," Daphne pointed out.

"I know, Daph, but when we do it, it isn't permanent. And it doesn't always hurt...."

"If you're old enough." The girl muttered. "Where the hell is Jace, anyways? I thought the asshole would visit, at the very least. He helped save her, you'd think he'd at least drop by just to check on her condition every now and then."

Isabelle shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if he even—oh, look! She moved!"

"I guess she's alive after all." Alec said, sounding almost disappointed. "I'll tell Hodge."

___

Clary blinked, her senses slowly coming back to her as she hauled herself into a sitting position. Every part of her ached, especially the back of her neck. She glanced around. She was tucked into a linen-sheeted bed, one of a long row of similar beds with metal headboards. Her bed had a small nightstand beside it with a white pitcher and cup on it. Lace curtains were pulled across the windows, blocking the light, although she could hear the faint, ever-present New York sounds of traffic coming from outside.

"So," a familiar voice drawled. "you're finally awake. Hodge will be pleased. We all thought you'd die in your sleep."

Clary turned. Daphne was perched on the next bed, her long jet-black hair expertly weaved together into two french braids that hung on her back. Her feet swung back and forth, in an almost child-like action, as she hummed a small tune.

Her glittering dark-colored eyes stared into Clary's, and moved up and down the smaller girl's body. Daphne hopped off the bed, landing softly—so softly Clary didn't even hear—and assessed the red-head.