Forgetting the Past

Chapter Nineteen: Lead by a Dream

Finally too exhausted to think about his raging emotions, Jace trudged in through the door of Alec and Magnus's apartment late that night. He was sweaty and tired and out of breath, and he forced himself not to think of how much he wanted to simply hold Clary right then. It was an unbearably painful thing to miss her that much.
After taking a cold shower, he passed out in the guest room's bed and let sleep take him.
Tonight there were no nightmares. But he did have a strangely vivid dream.
It started with Clary disappearing into the woods. He was following her, not in his own body, but seeming to be an omniscient presence.
He lost sight of her in the darkness, and was sucked into a pitch black void. Then he was hit with a storm of flashing images; a stadium full of demons, Sebastian pinning Clary to a wall and kissing her, touching her in ways that made Jace burn with hatred and call out to her; a maze of hallways all carved in stone, Clary and Sebastian in bed-
He tried to wake himself but the pull only became harder. There was Clary, jerking her knee up into Sebastian's groin and fleeing into the huge closet. Collapsing against the wall, crying and clutching her side. She was covered in blood and tears and hopelessness. And the entire time he watched the images, one word seemed to be whispered in his head the entire time: Pandemonium.

Suddenly Jace was shaken awake. He lay there, wide eyed, panting, and covered in a cold sweat. His parabatai was kneeling by the bedside.
"Jace, are you okay?" Alec asked. "We heard you yelling out Clary's name."
"Just... Just a nightmare," he replied. Then the full weight of it hit him. He bolted upright in bed and took Alec by his slight shoulders. "I know where she is."
"What?" He replied, astounded. "How? Where is she?"
"In the dream... Someone sent me those visions, Alec; I'm sure of it. One word..."
"Jace, you're not making sense," he said, shaking his hands off his shoulders and standing.
"Pandemonium," he said, not meeting Alec's stare. He felt stunned. "Clary's in the demon capital of hell."
Alec shook his head. "No, no Jace. Nobody's ever gone there, she can't-"
"She is!" He shouted, looking Alec in the eye with sudden conviction. "Clary is in Pandemonium. I know it." He stood up abruptly, striding toward the door. "Magnus!" He called out sharply and loudly.
"Jace!" His parabatai said in a whisper-shout. "It's four in the morning! Magnus has gone back to sleep by now!"
"He has the rest of eternity to sleep," Jace retorted, striding down the hall as Alec raced to catch up to him. "This is urgent."
Alec sighed, letting him go on ahead. Jace opened the door to the master bedroom, and a groggy Magnus looked up at him. "Jace? What the hell?" He grumbled. "It's hardly the time to finally figure out its more fun to be in my bedroom, though I'm glad you've finally come to your senses."
"I know where Clary is," Jace announced.
Within a few minutes the three men were all gathered around the coffee table in their pajamas, clutching mugs of coffee.
"And you're sure about this?" Magnus asked.
"Yes. I've never been more sure."
"I knew a warlock once," he replied, taking on a reflective expression. "He was old. Over a thousand years on this earth. And let's just say, dealing with society for that long does not do good things to one's sanity.
"He wanted to go to Pandemonium; he thought that was where he belonged. So he performed a ceremony and opened a portal to the city."
The two Shadowhunters stared wide eyed. "A portal to Pandemonium? How is that even possible?" Jace asked.
"I don't know, but it's by far the strongest magical force I've ever experienced. I barely survived. And it sure didn't do much for the Hotel Dumont's ballroom."
They were once again shocked by this revelation.
"Anyways, I don't know if he actually survived it. I don't know if anybody could."
"So your saying..." Jace began. "It might be possible to get to Pandemonium?"
Alec looked taken aback. "You're seriously considering doing that?"
Magnus sighed. "Of course he is. If I know Herondales, there's nothing they won't do for love."
"But this... We're talking about the demon capital. More monsters than we could ever imagine, and don't even imagine you could win that kind of fight," he warned his parabatai.
"Of course not," Jace replied lightly, then took on a more serious tone. "But this is also Clary. Magnus is right; I would do anything to get her back. I can't lose her-" his voice cracked and he looked down at the floorboards. "I can't stand to lose her for good." It would break me.
Alec sighed. "I understand."
Jace looked up at him, slightly confused by the kind and calm response. "You do?"
"Of course. I went into Edom partly to rescue Magnus. I couldn't let him rot in hell forever, even after he brutally dumped me," he added with a bitter smile.
"I love you, too, sweetie," the warlock said.
"Then I guess we're going to have to find a way to do this, aren't we?" Jace asked.
"Yes," Alec replied. "Yes we are."
Magnus rose from the couch and headed toward his study. Alec turned to his parabatai, whose mood had darkened visibly in the past few moments. As Jace's mind dismissed the issue of rescuing Clary briefly, he returned to thinking about the rest of the dream. Anger boiled within him toward Sebastian.
"Jace, is there anything else?" Alec asked cautiously.
He sighed, raking his blonde hair out of his eyes. "It's just... I saw some of the things Clary was going through down there." His voice tightened along with his expression. "The things Sebastian's been doing to her."
"Do you think she's... Okay?"
Jace shook his head. "No. She's definitely not okay. Seeing him touch her like that..." His fingers clenched and unclenched into fists. "I can't stand it."
Alec paled. "Has he...?"
"I think Clary's doing a good job of protecting herself from him so far. But I don't know what could happen."
Alec nodded. "We'll get her out. We can find a way, Jace."
"I know. I just wish she didn't have to get hurt while we're figuring out how." His posture sagged with the weight of it.
"He's hurting her?" Alec asked, then shook his head at himself as if realizing it was a stupid question. "Of course he is. That's all the bastard's good at."
"Believe me, he's better at some other things he'd like to do to her," Jace replied with grim disgust. His upper lip twitched with anger and jealousy. He didn't want anybody laying a finger on Clary, especially not Sebastian. She had suffered enough at his hand.

Clary eased the trapdoor down onto the floor as silently as possible. When it was closed, so sank back against the wall with a sigh of relief. She had done it. She had contacted Jace. It was done.
She pinched her arm just to make sure this wasn't just a dream too, as if the searing pain in her ribs and her aching muscles weren't proof enough. Then, closing her eyes, relived every moment.

She had seen a vision in her sleep. It was an image of herself opening a trapdoor in the floor, hidden under the carpet, and climbing into it. As soon as she woke, she set to scouring the entire floor for the door. And it was just where she had seen it in her sleep.
When she climbed down on the ancient ladder, the cramped tunnel was entirely black. She had to feel her way down the damp walls as the cold air seeped into her skin.
An abrupt corner brought her into a situation she had never imagined would occur twice. A room, barely visible in what could have been moonlight without a source, opened up before her. The dark, stone floor was etched with circles, pentagrams, and countless demonic symbols. Their power made her shudder, but not as much as the form crouching in the corner.
At first it blended in with the shadows. But she eventually made him out; it was an angel. Not exactly the same as Ithuriel, though he was chained to the ground in the same position. His wings were made of black feathers, not gold, and his runes were only dark outlines. Though the other angel had had fair, smooth skin, his was a tanner, olive color. When she stepped over the threshold, he tilted his head to look up at her. She noticed that his black hair fell into his eyes, which were a murky hazel.
"You've found me," he said in a voice less masculine than she might have imagined.
"You..." She began, completely astonished. "You've been sending me the dreams."
He smiled wistfully. "Yes. I am the angel of dreams, or I used to be. I can show you the past, present, or future to those who sleep."
She blinked, trying to absorb this information. "What's your name?" She asked.
"My name is long forgotten. But you can call me Lewis."
"Lewis... It's not an angel's name," Clary pointed out.
"And I'm not an angel any more."
Clary chose her next words carefully. "Will you... Will you tell me your story?"
"I assume you mean how I fell," he replied, not irritated by her request. Clary nodded. "Come," he said, tilting his head as a motion for her to join him. She walked slowly toward him, then sat on the ground about two feet away and leaned against the wall beside him.
When he turned his head toward her, she noticed with a start that black tear tracks ran down his face. At first the dark smudges, like charcoal, pooled around his eyes as if it were only smeared makeup, but then it trailed down his cheeks like charred burns. His lips were full and bowed into a naturally downturned shape.
"I never meant to leave heaven. I was a minor angel- even with my power over dreams, since that was one of my only powers. But when the others revolted, when Lucifer rebelled, they dragged me along with them for my power. I was weak compared to all of those angels riding on the high of battle, but they wanted my power to show the past, present, and future in dreams. And when they reached this, their city, I was imprisoned for my disloyalty to them. I was not condemned by heaven to become a demon, like the others, but I could not remain a full angel either. My wings are slowly falling apart with every victory for the demons, and I can not bridge the gap between heaven and hell on my own."
Clary stared at him, astounded. "But there must be some way for you to go back and become an angel again. Isn't there?"
He sighed, a heavy, deep noise of an eternal prisoners wrongly accused of others' deeds. "Only if another angel were to sacrifice their own place in heaven and become human. But who would leave the clouds and live a short life on the earth to save one of the fallen?"
Clary's face was contorted with sorrow, and she shook her head. "I'm so, so sorry, Lewis."
"Clary," he said softly, and less sadly. She looked up to meet his intense gaze. "I can still help you. I want to help you," he added desperately. Her heart ached to give him purpose.
"I need to contact Jace Herondale," she told him. "He needs to know where I am, and what Sebastian is doing, so he can help me get out. Unless you know another way."
"No," he said, casting his eyes down. "I'm afraid you won't be able to get yourself out of here, with the charms Sebastian has set on you."
She joined him in studying the floor, anger toward her brother suddenly rising up. This was his fault, all of it. Why did he have to do this to her? Why couldn't he be happy with what he had, being a prince of hell?
"I should go," Clary declared abruptly, getting to her feet. Lewis looked up at her desperately.
"Will you came back?" He asked.
She thought for a short moment. "Yes. If I get a chance, I will."
"Good. Just don't let Sebastian find you out," he added. "Goodbye, Clary."
"Goodbye," she said, and with a final look turned away.
She had fumbled back through the tunnel and ascended the ladder. Still, the conversation was barely comprehendible.

She had hope now.