City of Lost Souls

“Glorious,” said Clary. “The Archangel Michael’s sword. It was destroyed.”


“Not destroyed. It went back where it came from once the heavenly fire consumed it.” Jace smiled faintly. “Otherwise our Angel would have had some serious explaining to do once Michael found out his buddy Raziel had lent out his favorite sword to a bunch of careless humans. But I digress. The sword… the way it burned… that was no ordinary fire.”

“I guessed that.” Clary wished Jace would hold out his arm and draw her against him. But he seemed to want to keep space between them, so she stayed where she was. It felt like an ache in her body, to be this close to him and not be able to touch him.

“I wish you hadn’t worn that sweater,” Jace muttered.

“What?” She glanced down. “I thought you liked this sweater.”

“I do,” he said, and shook his head. “Never mind. That fire—it was Heaven’s fire. The burning bush, the fire and brimstone, the pillar of fire that went before the children of Israel—that’s the fire we’re talking about. ‘For a fire is kindled in mine anger, and shall burn unto the lowest hell, and shall consume the earth with her increase, and set on fire the foundations of the mountains.’ That’s the fire that burned away what Lilith had done to me.” He reached for the hem of his shirt and drew it up. Clary sucked in her breath, for above his heart, on the smooth skin of his chest, there was no more Mark—and only a healed white scar where the sword had gone in.

She reached her hand out, wanting to touch him, but he drew back, shaking his head. She felt the hurt expression flash across her face before she could hide it as he rolled his shirt back down. “Clary,” he said. “That fire—it’s still inside me.”

She stared at him. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath and held his hands out, palms down. She looked at them, slim and familiar, the Voyance rune on his right hand faded with white scars layered over it. As they both watched, his hands began to shake slightly—and then, under Clary’s incredulous eyes, to turn transparent. Like the blade of Glorious when it had begun to burn, his skin seemed to turn to glass, glass that trapped within it a gold that moved and darkened and burned. She could see the outline of his skeleton through the transparency of his skin, golden bones connected by tendons of fire.

She heard him inhale sharply. He looked up then, and met her eyes with his. His eyes were gold. They had always been gold, but she could swear that now that gold lived and burned as well. He was breathing hard, and there was sweat shining on his cheeks and collarbones.

“You’re right,” Clary said. “Our problems really aren’t like other people’s problems.”

Jace stared at her incredulously. Slowly he closed his hands into fists, and the fire vanished, leaving only his ordinary, familiar, unharmed hands behind. Half-choking on a laugh, he said, “That’s what you have to say?”

“No. I have a lot more to say. What’s going on? Are your hands weapons now? Are you the Human Torch? What on earth—”

“I don’t know what the human torch is, but—All right, look, the Silent Brothers have told me that I carry the heavenly fire inside me now. Inside my veins. In my soul. When I first woke up, I felt like I was breathing in fire. Alec and Isabelle thought it was just a temporary effect of the sword, but when it didn’t go away and the Silent Brothers were called in, Brother Zachariah said he didn’t know how temporary it would be. And I burned him—he was touching my hand when he said it, and I felt a jolt of energy go through me.”

“A bad burn?”

“No. Minor. But still—”

“That’s why you won’t touch me,” Clary realized aloud. “You’re afraid you’ll burn me.”

He nodded. “No one’s ever seen anything like this, Clary. Not before. Not ever. The sword didn’t kill me. But it left this—this piece of something deadly inside me. Something so powerful it would probably kill an ordinary human, maybe even an ordinary Shadowhunter.” He took a deep breath. “The Silent Brothers are working on how I might control it, or get rid of it. But as you might imagine, I’m not their first priority.”