Exile of the Clave

Exile of the Clave - Chapter 10

Clary's breath puffed through the crust of ice that had built up on her scarf, and she adjusted the goggles she was wearing to cut the glare from the sun on the snow. She had been out at the ritual site with Tessa and Jem all morning, but it was time to head back to the cabin and thaw out over lunch once they met up with Helen and Aline.

She shook her head in amazement at the dedication of the two women. They had been combing the wards obsessively ever since the breaches had started; Clary wasn't even entirely sure they had managed to get any sleep in the last few days. The seemingly random scattering of incursions across the globe had frustrated them to no end, but they had dutifully recorded the locations and forwarded them in duplicate to Alicante and Alec. Everyone on Wrangel Island was tense about how many pinpricks had appeared. Never anything big, but it was enough to send small pockets of demons tearing through remote areas where there weren't any Shadowhunters on patrol.

Clary slowed and looked back over her shoulder as she waited for Tessa and Jem to catch up. They had fallen behind while engaged in a spirited debate about the demonic runes burned into the rocks. Clary could just make out Tessa's voice as the couple climbed the rise along a now well-worn path through the snow.

"The Ergothian markings are the easiest to read, and they will give us the best chance of deciphering the other ones that we don't recognize or that have been obscured over the centuries." Her light-brown curls bounced along on the back of her heavy coat from under where they were trapped by the coils of her scarf.

Jem sighed good-naturedly in a cloud of misted breath. "My Ergothian is terribly rusty. Will was always the clever one with languages." The sting of remembering his parabatai had faded in the time since he had reclaimed his mortality, and now it was a pleasant warmth in his breast to call up memories of a black-haired boy laughing over their lessons of demonic languages.

Tessa found Jem's hand and clasped it as best she could through the thick mittens they were both wearing. The years had been kind to Jem, but they were still marching forward inexorably. How many more years did she have left with him? Her heart clenched up as it always did when she allowed herself to dread their inevitable parting. She forced her voice to sound bright as she breathed life back into her first husband, if only for a moment. "Could you imagine if Will was here?"

Jem's smile was hidden by his scarf, but Tessa could see his goggles rise on his cheekbones as he smiled at the thought. "No," he replied. "Will wouldn't be up here. He would be charging about with Jace like a madman to see which one of them could single-handedly stem the demon tide first."

"What's that about Jace?" Clary asked innocently as they reached her.

Jem cleared his throat and looked sideways at Tessa. "Fond memories," he answered vaguely.

Clary arched an eyebrow at him. "He really has grown up, you know. He's only half-mad now."

Tessa laughed as they trudged forward in their heavy boots. "A half-mad Herondale is still twice as mad as anyone else." She tried to wag a finger at Clary, but the effect was ruined by the mittens. "I know why he was sent on his most recent 'sabbatical'."

Clary rolled her eyes behind her goggles, but was saved from defending her husband's sanity any further as they spotted Helen and Aline. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted down that it was time for lunch.

The two women climbed out of the shallow valley toward where Clary, Tessa, and Jem were waiting patiently for them, all conversation about mad Herondales temporarily set aside.

"You guys have perfect timing," Aline said as she and her wife reached the group. "We need to get back to the cabin ASAP."

Clary immediately felt a stab of worry in her chest. "What did you find?"