City of Heavenly Fire (The Mortal Instruments, #6)(139)

“I told you to wait,” he snapped at Alec. “Don’t you ever do anything I tell you to?”

“Technically you didn’t actually say anything,” Clary said. “You just gestured.”

“Gesturing counts,” Jace said. “I gesture very expressively.”

“You’re not in charge,” Alec said, lowering his bow. Some of the tension had gone out of his posture. There were clearly no demons hiding in the shadows: Nothing blocked their view of the corroded walls, and nothing but the statue remained standing in the room. “You don’t need to protect us.”

Isabelle rolled her eyes at both of them and stepped closer to the statue, craning her head back. It was the statue of a man in armor; his feet, in mail boots, rested on a golden plinth. He wore an intricate hauberk of linked stone circlets, decorated with a motif of angel wings across the chest. In his hand he carried an iron replica of a skeptron, tipped by a circular metal ornament, into which a red jewel had been set.

Whoever had carved the statue had been skilled. The face was handsome, square-jawed, with a distant, clear gaze. But they had captured more than good looks: There was a certain harshness to the set of his eyes and jaw, a twist to his mouth that spoke of selfishness and cruelty.

There were words written on the plinth, and though they were not in English, Clary could read them.

JONATHAN SHADOWHUNTER. FIRST AND LAST OF THE NEPHILIM.

“First and last,” Isabelle whispered. “This place is a tomb.”

Alec crouched down. There were more words on the plinth, under Jonathan Shadowhunter’s name. He read them out:

“‘And he who overcomes, and he who keeps my deeds until the end, to him I will give authority over the nations; and he shall rule them with a rod of iron, and I will give him the Morning Star.’”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Simon asked.

“I think Jonathan Shadowhunter got cocky,” said Alec. “I think he thought this skeptron thing would not just save them, but it would let him rule over the world.”

“?‘And I will give him the Morning Star,’?” said Clary. “That’s from the Bible. Our Bible. And ‘Morgenstern’ means ‘morning star.’?”

“?‘The morning star’ means a lot of things,” said Alec. “It can mean ‘the brightest star in the sky,’ or it can mean ‘heavenly fire,’ or it can mean ‘the fire that falls with angels when they’re cast down out of Heaven.’ It’s also the name of Lucifer, the light-bringer, the demon of pride.” He straightened up.

“Either way, it means that thing the statue is holding is a real weapon,” said Jace. “Like in the door engravings. You said the skeptron is what they developed here, instead of seraph blades, to hold off the demons. Look at the marks on the handle. It’s been in battle.”

Isabelle tapped the pendant around her throat. “And the red stone. It looks like it’s made from the same stuff as my necklace.”

Jace nodded. “I think it is the same stone.” Clary knew what he was going to say next before he said it. “That weapon. I want it.”

“Well, you can’t have it,” Alec said. “It’s attached to the statue.”

“It’s not.” Jace pointed. “Look, the statue’s gripping it, but they’re actually two totally separate pieces. They carved the statue and then they put the scepter into its hands. It’s supposed to be removable.”

“I’m not sure that’s exactly true—” Clary began, but Jace was already putting a foot up onto the plinth, preparing to climb. He had the glint in his eye she both loved and dreaded, the one that said, I do what I want, and damn the consequences.

“Wait!” Simon darted to block Jace from climbing farther. “I’m sorry, but does anyone else see what’s going on here?”

“Nooo,” Jace drawled. “Why don’t you tell us all about it? I mean, we’ve got nothing but time.”

Simon crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve been in a lot of campaigns—”

“Campaigns?” Isabelle echoed, bewildered.

“He means Dungeons and Dragons games,” Clary explained.

“Games?” Alec echoed in disbelief. “In case you haven’t noticed, this is no game.”

“That’s not the point,” Simon said. “The point is that when you’re playing D&D and your group comes across a heap of treasure, or a big sparkly gem, or a magical golden skull, you should never take it. It’s always a trap.” He uncrossed his arms and waved them wildly. “This is a trap.”

Jace was silent. He was looking at Simon thoughtfully, as if he’d never seen him before, or at least never considered him so closely. “Come here,” he said.

Simon moved toward him, his eyebrows raised. “What—oof!”

Jace had dropped his sword into Simon’s hands. “Hold this for me while I climb,” Jace said, and leaped up onto the plinth. Simon’s protests were drowned out by the sound of Jace’s boots knocking against the stone as he scrambled up the statue, pulling himself up hand over hand. He reached the middle of the statue, where the carved hauberk offered footholds, and braced himself, reaching across the stone to close his hand around the handle of the skeptron.