Middle School of Bones - A Mortal Instruments Story

Chapter 24

When I was little, I found a painting my mom kept hidden beneath her bed. It was of a golden cup painted so well it was as if it was sitting in front of you. My mom had always been an incredible artist, but this piece amazed me the most. It was a part of me; I only thought that part was as an artist.

I dug through my closet where I'd set the painting all those years ago when she'd gifted it to me. It had gathered dust over the years in favor of displaying my own artwork. I cleaned it off with my sleeve to reveal the golden chalice just as I remembered it. 

"Ceci n'est pas une mortal cup," Jace spoke eloquently in French.

"I don't know what that means," I said, "but give me a sec, alright?" 

The painting had to be a clue. Mom had disregarded everything from her past life, everything relating to Shadowhunters. Why else would she keep this? Now that I was seeing it from older, seventh-grade eyes, I realized that the painting was just too real. 

I closed my eyes and reached into the canvas. My fingers touched cold, solid metal, and I looked. My hand was in the painting as though the surface were liquid. I pulled my hand out, and the cup came with it.

"That's it," Jace said in disbelief. He shook his head. "You've had the mortal cup in your apartment this entire time."

"By the Angel," Alec said. "We have to get this to Idris right away."

I hugged the cup close to my body. "It's what Valentine was looking for when he took my mom," I realized. "We need to give it to him."

Jace and Alec were not happy with my idea.

"Let me get this straight," Jace said. "Your mom spent your entire life trying to keep the cup from Valentine. You just want to hand it over?"

I bit my lips. "It's the only way I can get my mom back."

Alec raised his hand. "Not entirely."

---

We brainstormed where Valentine might be hiding. I downloaded my favorite web browser on my iPad and dialed up the search engine. After a few minutes, we settled on an abandoned Valentine's day warehouse in New York that closed because of poison. Unfortunately, there were no buses that stopped there, so we needed someone to drive us. The Lightwoods wouldn't have approved of us going on our own, so I called my dad for a ride. He pulled up in his Cybertruck within five minutes, and I borrowed Alec's phone to call Luke. We needed his pack for Alec's plan to work.

We arrived at the warehouse after stopping to pick up Isabelle and Simon from the Institute. It felt wrong to exclude them, and we'd need all the help we could get.

The warehouse looked old and fallen-apart with the glamour. When I peeled it away, I saw the building wasn't actually abandoned. A couple Shadowhunters guarded the front entrance, no doubt with tons of weapons. I signaled to my friends and marched to the door.

"My name is Clary Fray," I declared. "Valentine is my father, and I'm here to make a deal with him."

The guards snickered. "Liar," one said. "Valentine would never name a child of his 'Clary'."

"Only Jonathan," the guards chanted.

"Wait," a second one said. "She has the red hair."

"The red hair," the guards chorused. 

I touched my hair self-consciously. "I thought it was becoming more of an auburn."

"We'll let you inside," the first guard said. "Follow me."

The guard led my companions and me through the warehouse.

I tried to remember all the directions as I went through. The warehouse, cleared of its old inventory, wasn't too difficult to navigate. We walked right to the center, where there was a large, open space perfect for any battles that might occur.

Valentine was waiting. He was tall, like Jace, and he also had blond hair and a crispy cool expression. He took my group in.

"By the Angel, how you've grown," he remarked. It was the first time anyone had ever said that to me. I guessed it was only because the last he'd seen me was when I was born.

I crossed my arms. "I want my mom back."

"Jocelyn," Valentine said. "Your mother. Of course." He walked across the room, like we were ordinary guests and not there to kill him. "You're just like her. Before she gave up on the Shadowhunter ways, that is." He stopped and faced me. "However, I can't exactly just let her go. She has something I want."

"Let me talk to her," I said. 

Valentine waved his hands. "Go ahead."

I realized there was a bed on the far side of the room, and as I got closer, I saw who was in it. It was almost worse than any prison cell I imagined. 

Mom laid atop it, sleeping almost peacefully. Her red hair was spread out on the pillow, her hands clasped together on her stomach. Her face was bright, like she was only resting, but I saw her chest wasn't rising with breath.

"What did you do to her?" I whirled around to Valentine. It was some sort of magic, I was sure of it. Valentine smiled cruelly.

"Nothing. That's the trick." Valentine walked the room. "She did this to herself when I, let's say, paid her a visit."

"Mom would never."

"Ah, but she did." Valentine drew a small vial from his pocket. He tossed it to me, and I would have sent it crashing to the floor if Jace hadn't caught it first. Valentine laughed.

"I wouldn't have expected you'd be working with them, Jace," Valentine said. "Honestly. But it's my own fault, really. Seven years was far too early to train you properly."

I looked at Jace. "What is he talking about?" But Jace's expression was blank.

"You really don't remember your own dad?" Valentine prompted. He covered his hair with one arm. "Michael Wayland? With the brown wig?" He rolled his eyes. "I didn't even look good brunet. The things we do for our children."

Jace paled. "It was you."

Valentine grinned. "Now you're getting it. Jace, meet your sister, Clary. Clary, Jace. Although, I suppose you've already met. Isn't this just a perfect family reunion?"