My Beautiful One

6. No pressure

"Who did they belong to?" Asked Clary, the first to break the grim silence.

"We don't know." Replied Maryse, lacing her fingers together on top of the table and staring at them rather than the gruesome spectacle of the wings or the shocked faces of Jace, Clary and I.

"Are those..." I struggled to choke out the words, "angel wings?"

Alec, who was sitting slouched in the seat furthest away from the door, nodded stiffly in answer.

"What are we doing here then?" Asked Jace, fists clenched and eyes darting restlessly around the room. "Why aren't we tracking Jonathan Morgenstern? Why aren't we-"

"You can't automatically blame Jonathan Morgenstern." I said quickly. A little too quickly, by the looks of the quizzical looks everyone at the table gave me as a result.

"That would be true," Maryse said, "if not for this." She got up slowly from her chair and made her way over to a cabinet against the wall. One opening rune later, she pulled a sheaf of paper carefully out of the cabinet and brought it to the table. 

The piece of paper appeared to be normal, and at first I thought it was blank, but after closer inspection I noticed a single word scrawled in spidery cursive.

Erchomai

On the other side was the address of the Institute and:

From Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern

"Well now that's all sorted, can we get on the 'let's find Sebastian and kill him' bit?" Snapped Jace.

"Who's Sebastian?" I asked.

Weren't they just talking about Jonathan Morgenstern?

"Never mind." Said Maryse, whisking the paper up again and stowing it safely back in the cabinet. "I called you here to discus tactics for how we are going to interpret this message." Sitting back down at the head of the table, she looked at everybody steadily as if trying to convey the plan to us through sheer force of will.

"We already have a plan," Isabelle pointed out irritably. "And if you got that paper and those wings before you told us the original plan, then can't we just stick with it?"

"We will stick with it," Maryse replied sharply,"but it is compulsory to have an official tactics meeting. So far all you know is that we are going sneak up on him, use Amari as bate, and have him buried before February."

For some reason the words made me flinch. Buried. Then the small pale face with its determined dark eyes rose up in my memory, and I knew exactly why. 

Why can't you let go of the fact that he isn't ten anymore, Amari?I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets, ignoring Maryse in favour of my own thoughts. He's a murdering psychopath who wants to burn down the world now, and you have to help stop him. You're not his 'beautiful one' anymore.

"Then why do we have to go to him? It says 'I am coming' after all." Argued Alec sullenly.

"Because we can be sure that when he comes, he'll bring a whole army with him." Clary said. Then she reached inside the pocket of her gear and slapped a crumpled drawing on the table. "And I'm willing to bet it will be an army of the scum from this evil thing." The picture was of a cup identical to the Mortal Cup, but the label of 'Infernal Cup' above the drawing suggested otherwise.

"Have you discussed this with the Clave?" I asked. "I'm pretty sure they like to take the lead in these kind of situations. You know, ones that could end in Armageddon."

"That was the original plan." Admitted a red-haired woman who looked uncannily like Clary, speaking for the first time. "The Clave don't make a habit of using children for this kind of mission."

"But this is a different kind of mission, Jocelyn. The moron trying to ruin life as we know it is a teenager this time, not a fully-grown man. Plus, we know Jonathan Morgenstern. At least more than any of the rest of the Clave." Isabelle argued.

"I don't know Jonathan." I said, my words, again, just a little too fast. "Morgenstern." I added quickly as an afterthought, trying to hide any clue of familiarity.

Familiarity which I don't actually have. I reminded myself sternly.

Maryse dismissed my strange actions quickly with a flick of her hand. "Of course you don't. Anyway, the original plan was to use a squad of more highly trained Shadowhunters, and Amari of course, to carry out the mission."

"But why Amari?" Demanded Alec, crossing his rune-covered arms.

"Because at the present moment the only allies Jonathan Morgenstern has are with traitorous Shadowhunters, demons, and faeries, and you can imagine that none of the three seemed like options we would be willing to take, given the risk. But that was, of course," Maryse gestured to me, "before we found her."

"'Her' has a name, you know." I stated crossly. "Couldn't you just use a glamour or something? Glamour up a Shadowhunter with better fighting experience than me and make them do exactly the same thing?"

"Because Jonathan would see right through it. You're just as good as any pro Shadowhunter -I've seen the way you fight- so don't worry about that. Also, he likes pretty things." Jace explained, winking at me. I would have scowled at him, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

 “Pretty.” Jonathan said shyly, his blush obvious on his pale skin. “You can be my beautiful one.”

"Whatever." I dismissed briskly, crossing my arms. "But you guys can't come. This was a mission designed for the best Shadowhunters of the age, and I don't want you to get hurt over something that-"

Jace let out a short bark of laughter, cutting me off. "I'm glad you care so much and all, but I don't know quite how you have missed this, Amari. I am the best Shadowhunter of our age. Clary here makes runes that can bust a ship, Alec is my parabatai, and Isabelle's a better close-combat fighter than anyone else you'll find." He flashed a grin. "Except me, of course."

After rolling my eyes at Jace, I regarded Jocelyn and Maryse quizzically. "You're okay with this?"

Jocelyn gave an exasperated sigh. "Of course not, but it's not as if we can stop them."

"Damn right." Agreed Jace.

"So it's settled." Said Maryse. "I'll write to the Clave, and if we get an agreement, I'll have the mission on paper so we can start planning the finer details."

"How long, do you think, until the mission?" Asked Isabelle eagerly, twirling a stand of dark hair around her finger.

"About a week." Was the reply, followed by: "You may go now."

And so we all left the room and walked our separate ways, wrapped in our thoughts.

This is going to happen. The world is going to be on the line, and I am going to be part of it.

 I laughed quietly to myself.

 No pressure.