“I don’t know about fun,” said Clary. “But I’m in, of course.”
“But, Clary,” Hodge said quickly. “If you are concerned about the danger, you don’t need to go. We can notify the Clave—”
“No,” Clary said, surprising herself. “My mom wanted me to find it. Not Valentine, and not them, either.” It wasn’t the monsters she was hiding from, Magnus had said. “If she really spent her whole life trying to keep Valentine away from this thing, this is the least I can do.”
Hodge smiled at her. “I think she knew you would say that,” he said.
“Don’t worry, anyway,” Isabelle said. “You’ll be fine. We can handle a couple of Forsaken. They’re crazy, but they’re not very smart.”
“And a lot easier to deal with than demons,” said Jace. “Not so tricksy. Oh, and we’re going to need a car,” he added. “Preferably a big one.”
“Why?” said Isabelle. “We’ve never needed a car before.”
“We’ve never had to worry about having an immeasurably precious object with us before. I don’t want to haul it on the L train,” Jace explained.
“There’s taxis,” said Isabelle. “And rental vans.”
Jace shook his head. “I want an environment we control. I don’t want to deal with taxi drivers or mundane rental companies when we’re doing something this important.”
“Don’t you have a driver’s license or a car?” Alec asked Clary, looking at her with veiled loathing. “I thought all mundanes had those.”
“Not when they’re fifteen,” Clary said crossly. “I was supposed to get one this year, but not yet.”
“Fat lot of use you are.”
“At least my friends can drive,” she shot back. “Simon’s got a license.”
She instantly regretted saying it.
“Does he?” said Jace, in an aggravatingly thoughtful tone.
“But he hasn’t got a car,” she added quickly.
“So does he drive his parents’ car?” Jace asked.
Clary sighed, settling back against the desk. “No. Usually he drives Eric’s van. Like, to gigs and stuff. Sometimes Eric lets him borrow it for other stuff. Like if he has a date.”
Jace snorted. “He picks up his dates in a van? No wonder he’s such a hit with the ladies.”
“It’s a car,” Clary said. “You’re just mad Simon has something you haven’t got.”
“He has many things I haven’t got,” said Jace. “Like nearsightedness, bad posture, and an appalling lack of coordination.”
“You know,” Clary said, “most psychologists agree that hostility is really just sublimated sexual attraction.”
“Ah,” said Jace blithely, “that might explain why I so often run into people who seem to dislike me.”
“I don’t dislike you,” said Alec quickly.
“That is because we share a brotherly affection,” said Jace, striding over to the desk. He took the black telephone and held it out to Clary. “Call him.”
“Call who?” Clary said, stalling for time. “Eric? He’d never lend me his car.”
“Simon,” said Jace. “Call Simon and ask him if he’ll drive us to your house.”
Clary made a last effort. “Don’t you know any Shadowhunters who have cars?”
“In New York?” Jace’s grin faded. “Look, everyone’s in Idris for the Accords; and anyway, they’d insist on coming with us. It’s this or nothing.”
She met his eyes for a moment. There was a challenge in them, and something more, as if he were daring her to explain her reluctance. With a scowl she stalked over to the desk and snatched the telephone out of his hand.
She didn’t have to think before dialing. Simon’s number was as familiar to her as her own. She braced herself to deal with his mother or his sister, but he picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Simon?”
Silence.
Jace was looking at her. Clary squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pretend he wasn’t there. “It’s me,” she said. “Clary.”
“I know who it is.” He sounded irritated. “I was asleep, you know.”
“I know. It’s early. I’m sorry.” She twirled the phone cord around her finger. “I need to ask you for a favor.”
There was another silence before he laughed bleakly. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not kidding,” she said. “We know where the Mortal Cup is, and we’re prepared to go get it. The only thing is, we need a car.”
He laughed again. “Sorry, are you telling me that your demon-slaying buddies need to be driven to their next assignation with the forces of darkness by my mom?”
“Actually, I thought you could ask Eric if you could borrow the van.”
“Clary, if you think that I—”
“If we get the Mortal Cup, I’ll have a way to get my mom back. It’s the only reason Valentine hasn’t killed her or let her go.”
Simon let out a long, whistling breath. “You think it’s going to be that easy to make a trade? Clary, I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either. I just know it’s a chance.”
“This thing is powerful, right? In D&D it’s usually better not to mess with powerful objects until you know what they do.”
“I’m not going to mess with it. I’m just going to use it to get my mom back.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Clary.”
“This isn’t D&D, Simon!” she half-screamed. “It’s not a funny game where the worst thing that happens is you get a bad dice roll. This is my mom we’re talking about, and Valentine could be torturing her. He could kill her. I have to do anything I can to get her back—just like I did for you.”
Pause. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know, this isn’t really my world. Look, where are we driving to, exactly? So I can tell Eric.”
“Don’t bring him,” she said quickly.
“I know,” he replied with exaggerated patience. “I’m not stupid.”
“We’re driving to my house. It’s in my house.”
There was a short silence—bewilderment this time. “In your house? I thought your house was full of zombies.”
“Forsaken warriors. They’re not zombies. Anyway, Jace and the others can take care of them while I get the Cup.”
“Why do you have to get the Cup?” He sounded alarmed.
“Because I’m the only one who can,” she said. “Pick us up at the corner as soon as you can.”
He muttered something nearly inaudible, then: “Fine.”
She opened her eyes. The world swam before her in a blur of tears. “Thanks, Simon,” she said. “You’re a—”
But he had hung up.