City of Heavenly Fire (The Mortal Instruments Fan-fic)

Chapter 11: So Far So Bad

The wind howled in the night sky, whipping strands of hair across her eyes. Clary stared at the huge mounds rubble and debris that used to be a building. Now, all that was left was piles upon piles of wreckage, dotting the huge, barren landscape. Dust blew around her in mini-tornadoes, making her eyes water. "You're sure this is it? I don't seem to see a door around here," she said, a nervous tinge creeping into her voice.

Clary could have sworn she saw Magnus's eye twitch. He took a deep breath, then attempted a smile that looked more like a gruesome grimace. "Look, Clary, darling. I would appreciate it if you didn't question my every move! I would remind you that I am the High Warlock of Brooklyn! I think that qualifies me to say that yes, I am most definitely sure this is the place."

Clary nodded briefly, barely noticing Magnus's tone. "Just making sure," she said crossly. "And come on, you can't blame me for being... well, skeptical. This place is a dump." It was true. After all, it was a demolished building, reduced piles of splintery wood and dirt. If it hadn't been for the warlock's magic tracking, they would have skipped right by it. As it was, there was no visible entrance to the supposed hideout.

"Yes, well it's expected that Sebastian chose a rather unidentifiable location for his fort." Magnus said, smoothing his now non-spiky hair.

Jordan, on Magnus's other side, snorted. "Fort?"

Magnus narrowed his eyes at him, looking shockingly similiar to a cougar or some other type of big cat. "I'll call it what I want. And I want to call it a fort," he said forcibly, weighing down each syllable.

"Well, even if you call it a fort, it doesn't make it one," Jordan retorted stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest heatedly.

Clary had stopped paying attention by then, knowing that the chatter was just a way for the others to remain calm. It had been only a half-hour drive from the Institute to the old building. By the time the five or so Shadowhunters Maryse had called in had arrived, Clary had been too impatient to sit still, pacing around while barely listening to Jocelyn's warnings.

"You have to be with at least three skilled Shadowhunters at all times," she had said, stepping in front of Clary and actually snapping her fingers to make sure she was paying attention. "Do you understand? Never attempt to go out alone. You hear me?" Clary had nodded, knowing that if she argued, even said one word out of line, she'd be locked in the Institute by her mom, and her only chance to save her loved ones would be gone.

A sudden pain in her arm made Clary snap into attention, glancing to her right. Izzy stood there, poking her shoulder. "What?" she asked, rubbing her arm and staring accusingly at the other girl in annoyance.

Isabelle looked back at her, concern clouding her dark eyes for a moment before she responded. "You seem to be spacing out alot, that's all," she said, shrugging her gear-clad shoulders.

Clary rolled her eyes and turned towards the crowd behind her, where the rest of the Shadowhunters climbed out of the various modes of transportation, including Luke's old pickup and a van. Clary scanned the wreckage in vain, looking for an entrance. She turned again as she heard the cars drive off into the distance, engines choking through years of rust. She frowned. "How are we supposed to get back now?" She asked, gripping her seraph blade tightly. It was a comfort thing.

Luke came up beside her, moving with surprising stealth for someone with ten pounds of weapons weighing them down. "It's so we don't attract attention," he said with a shrug, "I mean it would look pretty suspicious if there happened to be a crowd of cars around this area. It's quite an abandoned place."

Clary nodded and followed Luke as he walked towards the small circle of Shadowhunters grouped next a particularly large mound of wood and scraps. She could see small rats and numerous insects in the pile, wicked black eyes and shells glinting. Clary shuddered, moving into the crowd.