City of Shattered Glass

Part 5: An Orchestrated Escape

Clary drifted in and out of dreams. She only ever dreamed of one person, the only person keeping her from slipping, keeping her from breaking. Every time she woke it was to pain, Valentine drawing screams from her. She didn't know why her father insisted on inflicting her with so much pain, but whatever he wanted, she wouldn't break. Clary held onto the image of the boy with golden hair and equally golden eyes, knowing that he had not left her, that he was coming for her. Sometimes the agony brought her so close to the breaking point, but she held on with all her might, only ever staring at a crack in the wall.

Clary never uttered a word to her father, save his name, only his name. Jace. She said it when she felt herself slipping, when hope felt so far away. Jace. Bringing frustration to the man who tortured her day and night every time she said it. She had no idea how long she had been like this. Weeks, months maybe, but every time she woke, Clary knew nothing could stop what was to come.

This time, Clary woke to an agonizing pain in her side, a scream already ripped from her throat. She threw her head back in agony as Valentine's fingers dug into her again. Clary could feel the warmth of blood trickling down her side.

Then Clary opened her eyes.

He was there. Jace was looking at her with a pain filled stare, making her wish she could embrace him. She shrieked again as the pain built.

"Stop," Jace cried, "please stop."

This could not be her Jace. She had given up the hope of seeing him again, not while she still lived. She must have been dreaming again, dreaming through the pain as she had many times.

"Jace." She whispered, wishing it really would be him. But her mind had shown her so many illusions in the time she'd been with Valentine that she couldn't trust it to be real.

"Clary," He said, his voice filled with emotion, "Clary, just hold on, I'm coming for you, I promise."

Valentine snorted behind her, laughing at Jace's attempt to call out to her. She said his name again, knowing no other words to use.

"Clary," he repeated, "I'm coming, I promise."

She wanted to believe him, that he would save her, but she knew it wasn't possible. Jace wouldn't find her, not when it had taken the entire Clave to find Valentine after years. Clary was alone.

She took in the boy before her as Valentine twisted the ring on his finger. The desperation behind his eyes that made Clary feel more pain than she had felt since she'd been with her father. But just as soon as Jace had been in front of her, he was gone. Clary was back in the room that no longer smelled like human waste, but her own blood. The dark room that was stained red near the wall where rusted chains hung. Valentine let go of her and she dropped to the floor like a stone, her body curling in on itself.

She couldn't guess how much time had passed when a voice whispered behind her, "Clary," It said. She shivered, her brother's voice making her stomach attempt to heave up its contents, thought it was empty. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and wrenched her hair back. Clary gasped, "Our father said you put on a good show today."

As always, Clary said nothing.

"Don't worry," he released her hair and she hit the ground hard, "He'll be back soon enough."

Clary painfully turned over onto her back and tried scooting away from Jonathan. His hand shot and wrapped around her neck before she could take in a breath. He squeezed his fist and Clary choked on her own breath.

"I haven't had much time with you yet, dear sister, but trust me, I'm planning on getting to know you very well."

She clawed at his hand, wishing she could sink her nails into his skin, but her nails were only bloody stumps now. They had broken when she had scratched at the wall above her every time the torture started again. Her hands left bloody prints on his wrists, but it did nothing, he only sneered. She felt the light sting as he pressed his stele to her side, drawing an iratze. For some reason they always did this. After hours of tearing her body apart, they healed her, as if they were cleaning their slate so they could start all over. She often woke up to her skin looking as it would have months ago while remembering the torture from just before she had gone unconscious, like it was all just a bad dream. Sometimes Clary thought that maybe it was all in her head, that she was still safe and in bed in her Brooklyn apartment. She knew it wasn't possible though and even if she could be at home right now, she wouldn't give up meeting her friends, meeting Jace. Clary would go through this pain and so much more for her friends.