Valentine's Arrow

12: Dark to Light

CHAPTER TWELVE

REBECCA

Sebastian seemed to be glowing himself – all pale hair and pale skin. "Mother, I have called you up as you wished of me. Tonight, you will not just be my mother, but a mother to a new race."

He indicated the waiting Shadowhunters, who were motionless, probably with shock. It was one thing to know a Greater Demon was going to be called, another to see one in the flesh. "The Cup," he said, and held it out to her, its pale white rim stained with his blood.

Lilith chuckled. She took the Cup and tore a gash in her ashy grey wrist with her teeth. Very slowly, sludgy black blood trickled forth, spattering into the Cup, which seemed to change, darkening under her touch, its clear translucence turning to mud. "As the Mortal Cup has been to the Shadowhunters, both a talisman and a means of transformation, so shall this Infernal Cup be to you," she said in her charred, windblown voice. She knelt, holding out the Cup to Sebastian. "Take of my blood and drink."

Sebastian took the Cup from her hands. It had turned black now, a shimmering black like hematite.

"As your army grows, so shall my strength," Lilith hissed. "Soon I will be strong enough to truly return - and we shall share the fire of power, my son."

Sebastian inclined his head. "We proclaim you Death, my mother, and profess your resurrection."

Lilith laughed, raising her arms. Fire licked up her body, and she launched herself into the air, exploding into a dozen spinning particles of light that faded like the embers of a dying fire. When they were gone completely, Sebastian kicked at the pentagram, breaking its continuity, and raised his head. There was an awful smile on his face.

"Come forward, Rebecca," he said, raising the cup.

Rebecca stood numb with shock for a moment. "You can't be serious," she spluttered.

"Jace?" Sebastian turned to him. "Mind doing the honors?"

"What honors?" Rebecca demanded, panic beginning to seep in. "There is no way you'll make me drink from that filthy Cup!"

"Fine, then." Sebastian waved a hand at Jace, signaling him to stop. "If you won't, someone else will. Cartwright, bring her forward."

Behind her, Rebecca could hear Clary say, "Jace, what is this? What's going on?"

The crowd parted, and a robed man pushed forward, a stumbling woman at his side. A chain bound her to his arm, and long, tangled hair hid her face from view. Cartwright, whom Rebecca dimly remembered seeing in Idris, put his hand on his captive's head and forced her to her knees. Then he bent and took hold of her hair, jerking her head up. She looked up at Sebastian, blinking in terror and defiance, her face clearly outlined by the moon.

"Amatis!" Clary cried.

And so it was. Amatis Herondale.

Sebastian strode over to her and pushed the Cup against her lips.

"Wait!" Rebecca cried, her voice raw. "I'll drink it - don't-"

Sebastian looked up and met her eyes, a cruel smile etched on his face. "Too late," he said, and he forcefully jammed the Cup against Amatis's lips. She retched and coughed, black fluid spilling down her chin. Sebastian yanked the Cup back, but it had done its work. Amatis made an awful hacking sound, her body jerking upright. Her eyes bulged, turning as dark as Sebastian's. She slapped her hands over her face, a wail escaping her, and Rebecca, standing frozen in shock, saw that the Voyance rune was fading from her hand.

Amatis dropped her hands. Her expression had smoothed, and her eyes were blue again. They fastened on Sebastian.

"Release her," he said to Cartwright, his gaze on Amatis. "Let her come to me."

Cartwright snapped the chain binding him to Amatis and stepped back. Amatis remained still for a moment, her hands lolling at her sides. Then she stood and walked over to Sebastian. She knelt before him, her hair brushing the dirt. "Master," she said. "How may I serve you?"

"Rise," Sebastian said, and Amatis rose from the ground gracefully. She seemed to have a new way of moving, all of a sudden. All Shadowhunters were adroit, but she moved now with a silent grace that made a chill run down Rebecca's back. She stood straight in front of Sebastian.

"Come here to me," Sebastian beckoned, and Amatis stepped toward him. She was a head shorter than him at least, and she craned her head up as he whispered to her. A cold smile split her face.

Sebastian raised his hand. "Would you like to fight Rebecca?"

It was like someone had poured ice water into Rebecca's veins. She couldn't have said how or why, but the idea of fighting Amatis terrified her - though she tried not to show it.

Noting her reluctance, Sebastian said, "Surely some demonstration of her power is in order. Come, Rebecca, she is older than you are. Are you afraid?" He pulled out a long dagger from his belt and held it out to her.

Rebecca took in a deep breath, and, keenly aware of Sebastian watching her, slowly took the knife. Amatis was gazing at her with all the intensity of a wolf stalking its prey. Someone threw her a knife, which she caught without even looking. Her blue eyes burned into Rebecca's grey ones.

"Fight her, Amatis."

And she did.

Amatis moved with such blinding speed that Rebecca had to use every ounce of her training. Amatis leaped into the air and swung her foot forward, aiming for Rebecca's hand, but Rebecca dodged, came up behind her, and kicked Amatis in the back, right below the ear.

For a normal Shadowhunter, below the ear is the most dangerous place to get hurt, but Amatis recovered almost immediately, and whirled around, slashing down with the knife. Rebecca parried with her own, but Amatis punched her once, twice, three times in the stomach until her legs gave way and she fell to the ground, wheezing.

As Rebecca doubled over, coughing and retching, she was vaguely aware that Amatis had swiftly plucked the dagger from her hand and was holding it against her throat. The cold steel prickled her skin.

"And there you see it," said Sebastian. "Even a Shadowhunter of no particular skill or strength - your pardon, Amatis - can become stronger, swifter, than their seraphically allied counterparts." He slammed one fist into the opposite palm. "Power. Real power. Who is ready for it?"

The Shadowhunters in the crowd immediately broke formation and began surging towards Sebastian in one long, ragged line. Rebecca's eyes watered, and she doubled up again, her head pounding. Amatis was incredibly strong – each punch had been like a sledgehammer to the body.

"Rebecca!" Someone was running towards her, a bright mass of red curls bouncing about her shoulders – Clary.

"Are you all right?" she said, placing both hands under Rebecca's shoulders and hauling her up.

"No," Rebecca wheezed. "But I will be. God damn it, she's strong."

"Shh. Don't talk too much."

A sudden cry rent the air, and the Shadowhunter who'd been reaching for the Cup staggered back, an arrow in his throat. In disbelief, Rebecca whipped around and saw, standing on top of the stone dolmen, Alec, in gear, holding his bow. He grinned in satisfaction and reached back over his shoulder for another arrow.

And then, coming from behind him, the rest of them poured out onto the plain. A pack of wolves, running low to the ground, their brindled fur shining in the variegated light. Behind them walked familiar Shadowhunters in an unbroken line: Isabelle and Maryse, Helen Blackthorn and Aline Penhallow, and Jocelyn. With them was Simon, the hilt of a silver sword protruding over the curve of his shoulder, and Magnus, hands crackling with blue fire.

"Clary!" Rebecca's heart leaped into her throat and she mutely pointed, lost for words.

"I know!" Clary cried, almost sobbing with relief.