City of Lost Souls

She looked at Jace beside her. He had his thumbs hooked into his belt and was looking around with casual interest. “Vampire coat check?” she said.

“Why not?” Jace smiled. “You’ll notice he didn’t offer to take my coat. Chivalry is dead, I tell you.” He tipped his head to the side at her quizzical expression. “Whatever. There’s probably someone he has to talk to here.”

“So this isn’t just for fun?”

“Sebastian never does anything just for fun.” Jace took her hands and pulled her toward him. “But I do.”

To Simon’s complete lack of surprise, no one was enthusiastic about his plan. There was a loud chorus of disapproval, followed by a clamor of voices trying to talk him out of it, and questions, mostly directed at Magnus, about the safety of the whole enterprise. Simon rested his elbows on his knees and waited it out.

Eventually he felt a soft touch on his arm. He turned, and to his surprise it was Isabelle. She gestured at him to follow her.

They wound up in the shadows near one of the pillars as the argument raged behind them. Since Isabelle had initially been one of the loudest dissenters, he braced himself for her to yell at him. However, she only looked at him with her mouth tight. “Okay,” he said finally, hating the silence. “I guess you’re not pleased with me right now.”

“You guess? I’d kick your butt, vampire, but I don’t want to ruin my expensive new boots.”

“Isabelle—”

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Right,” Simon said, though he couldn’t help a twinge of disappointment. “I know that.”

“And I’ve never begrudged you the time you’ve spent with Clary. I even encouraged it. I know how much you care about her. And how much she cares about you. But this—this is an insane risk you’re talking about taking. Are you sure?”

Simon looked around—at Magnus’s messy apartment, the small group in the corner arguing about his fate. “This isn’t just about Clary.”

“Well, it isn’t about your mother, is it?” Isabelle said. “That she called you a monster? You don’t have anything to prove, Simon. That’s her problem, not yours.”

“It’s not like that. Jace saved my life. I owe him.”

Isabelle looked surprised. “You’re not doing this just to pay Jace back, are you? Because I think by now everyone’s pretty even.”

“No, not completely,” he said. “Look, we all know the situation. Sebastian can’t be running around loose. It isn’t safe. The Clave is right about that much. But if he dies, Jace dies. And if Jace dies, Clary…”

“She’ll survive,” Isabelle said, her voice quick and hard. “She’s tough and strong.”

“She’ll hurt. Maybe forever. I don’t want her to hurt like that. I don’t want you to hurt like that.”

Isabelle crossed her arms. “Of course not. But do you think she won’t be hurt, Simon, if something happens to you?”

Simon bit his lip. He actually hadn’t thought about it. Not like that. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you be hurt if something happens to me?”

She kept looking at him, her back straight, her chin steady. But her eyes were shining. “Yes.”

“But you want me to help Jace.”

“Yes. I want that, too.”

“You have to let me do this,” he said. “It’s not just for Jace, or for you and Clary, though you’re all a big part of it. It’s because I believe darkness is coming. I believe Magnus when he says it. I believe Raphael is truly afraid of a war. I believe we’re seeing a small piece of Sebastian’s plan, but I don’t think it’s any coincidence he took Jace with him when he went. Or that he and Jace are linked. He knows we need Jace to win a war. He knows what Jace is.”

Isabelle didn’t deny it. “You’re just as brave as Jace.”

“Maybe,” said Simon. “But I’m not Nephilim. I can’t do what he can do. And I don’t mean as much to as many people.”

“Special destinies and special torments,” Isabelle whispered. “Simon—you mean a lot to me.”

He reached out, and lightly cupped her cheek. “You’re a warrior, Iz. It’s what you do. It’s what you are. But if you can’t fight Sebastian because hurting him would hurt Jace, you can’t fight the war. And if you have to kill Jace to win the war, I think it’ll kill part of your soul. And I don’t want to see that, not if I could do something to change it.”

She swallowed. “It’s not fair,” she said. “That it has to be you—”

“This is my choice, to do this. Jace doesn’t have a choice. If he dies, it’s for something he didn’t have anything to do with, not really.”

Isabelle expelled a breath. She uncrossed her arms and took him by the elbow. “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”

She steered him back toward the group, who broke off their argument and stared when she cleared her throat, as if they hadn’t quite realized the two of them had been missing until this moment.