My Beautiful One

46. City of Heavenly Fire

It should have been beautiful. Just a few miles off the west coast of Africa, it should have had white sand and swaying palm trees, with the sea just a shade darker than the endless blue sky stretching overhead.

Instead, the sky was grey, the ground was grey, and the eerily-still sea was grey as well. It was a tiny island, so small I could see all the way around it, but it seemed like a miniature city because of the buildings, which were just over head-height. They were white marble, with arched entrances and empty interiors, and the way they covered the land in orderly lines was ghostly, as there was no one and nothing in them.

"The City of Whispers." Sebastian said, his familiar voice adding a much-need human element to the place. "It was built by Shadowhunters and glamoured away from the mundanes to be another necropolis like the one just outside Alicante, but it was abandoned almost as soon as it was built."

"Why?" Clary asked, looking up at her brother.

He turned sombre black eyes on her, and with no hint of a joke or even the most mordant humour, said: "Because even the dead can't sleep soundly here."

I shivered, but not from the cold. This island was very aptly named; it was almost totally silent but for the wind, which seemed to whisper as it darted in and out of the mausoleums. We all tried to defy the silence, talking aimlessly about anything and everything as we walked towards the beach at the other end of the island, where we could see the crowds. They were a big, dark, writhing mass of flashing claws and glinting weapons, and the closer we got, the whispers of the mausoleums became the shrieks of the army of Pandemonium.

Sebastian stopped us about a hundred yards from the beach, saying that from past this point, if we got above the line of mausoleums, they'd be able to see us. The nerves began to settle in, battering the walls of my stomach, and I forced the feeling down, calming myself by reciting mundane poetry in my head.

Out of the night that covers me, / Black as the Pit from pole to pole. This was Invictus by Henley, and was very motivational. The rhythm fit well with Jace and Sebastian's words as they planned tactics, and I took inspiration from the boys and the poem equally. I thank whatever gods may be / For my unconquerable soul.

"Clary will take the left side." Jace was saying. "The easiest way to get rid of the most demons would be to push them through a portal back to Pandemonium, so Clary will need protection while she sets that up. Simon, Amari, that's you."

"Amari, if I ever become a risk, come straight to me, okay?" Sebastian told me. "Try and stop me first, but if you can't, you've got to kill me."

Dread spiked through my mind, but I quieted negative thoughts by another verse of Invictus and simply nodded at him. "Got it."

"So what are you two going to do?" Clary asked, looking strong and not nervous in the slightest. Whether she was just doing a good job of hiding her fear or if this was all for real, her confidence boosted my own.

"Sebastian and I are going to bust a way in right through the centre, and I'm going to try to burn up the Cup." Jace replied. Sebastian nodded, crossing his arms and looking tense.

"So I guess this is where we all say good luck?" Simon said. Clary and I both smiled at him.

"I guess so, Simon." She said, stepping closer to the Daylighter and hugging him tightly. When she drew back, she handed him a dagger.

"Not that we'll need it," I said. "But good luck anyway."

The group nodded, but just like before, there were no goodbyes. Jace kissed Clary, Sebastian kissed me, and before anyone could hesitate, we each climbed atop a separate mausoleum.