Smoke and Mirrors ▹ Alec Lightwood [1]

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN
ABBADON

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

     The Mortal Cup was glowing white. That was all Adrian seemed to be able to notice. It was mesmerizing to watch, especially since he had never seen it in person before. None of them had. He had seen pictures, had seen paintings and drawings, and he had even seen replicas, but none of them had done the Mortal Cup justice. Adrian suddenly had the urge to touch it, and he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away. There seemed to be a subtle white glow coming off of it. None of them could find the strength to stop staring. Adrian didn't even notice he wasn't blinking until he heard himself speak.

"I can't believe we actually found it," he whispered, voice filled with disbelief. Isabelle murmured under her breath in agreement, while Alec just continued to stare at it. Clary finally found enough strength to look away from it, glancing up to meet Adrian's gaze. They both blinked multiple times, as if coming out of a trance.

"No offense," Clary drawled, a small smile curving her lips, "but technically I was the one who found it." Adrian arched an eyebrow. Her eyes were twinkling, and he had to bite back his own smile. Her joy at finally finding something her mother had wanted her to find was contagious. He smiled despite trying to keep it back.

"Alright, little red, no need to be cocky," he said in response. Clary only shrugged in response, her small smile growing into a full-fledged grin. Adrian could have sworn she was about to start jumping up and down. He didn't really blame her. It felt good, seeing her genuinely happy ever since her mother had went into her magical coma. Clary hugged the Mortal Cup to her chest. Jace shifted on his feet, giving a judgmental glance around at Madame Dorothea's apartment. Madame Dorothea herself hadn't look away from the Cup since Clary had pulled it out of the tarot card.

As soon as Adrian noticed her stare, his hand went unconsciously to the sword at his hip. The rest of them were Shadowhunters. They had grown up learning about the Mortal Cup, and people talked about it like it was some sort of religious object. He supposed, on some level, it was. A mundane, even one with the Sight, staring at it with so much adoration wasn't normal, and it made him nervous.

"Well, we have it," Jace said, sounding just as impatient as he looked. "Can we go now?" Isabelle made another sound of agreement. The awe of seeing the Mortal Cup in their presence had worn off, and now they were left feeling anxious. The longer the Mortal Cup was in their possession, the more danger they were all in. Demons were probably coming toward the power as they stood there. The safest place for the Cup was the Institute, and it would remain safe there until the Clave could take it back to the Glass City.

"Wait!" Madame Dorothea exclaimed when Clary moved to follow Jace out of the apartment. Madame Dorothea reached out a shaking hand, her eyes still glued to the Cup. "It's damaged. Let me fix that up for you." Adrian's hand tightened around the handle of his sword. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Isabelle's whip slowly start to uncoil itself from around her wrist. Alec slid slightly away from the both of them, so that he could have enough room to swing the staff. Jace gave Madame Dorothea a hard look. Clary, despite not being trained and not seeing the Shadowhunters in the room shift into fighting positions, seemed to sense the danger anyway, like any other Shadowhunter could. Her hands tightened around the stem of the Cup, her knuckles turning bone white. She shifted on her feet, and it brought her closer to Jace and farther away from Madame Dorothea.

"No," Clary said, trying to mask her nervousness with a smile. "It's okay, really." Madame Dorothea shook her head.

"I insist," she pressed, taking a small step toward Clary, her hand still outstretched. When Clary still refused to hand it over, impatience seeped into her voice. "Valentine won't be pleased if anything were to happen to the Cup."