In Another Universe Chapter: 12 - Abbadon
Clar wasn't sure what he had expected—sounds of delight, maybe cheers. But instead there was only silence, broken by Jayce. "I guess I thought it was going to be bigger."
Clar looked at the Cup that was in his hand. It was about the size of an ordinary wine glass, just much heavier. He felt power thrumming through it. "It's a perfectly fine size," he said Indignantly. "Oh, it's big enough," she said Patronizingly, "I was just expecting . . . Something, like you know." She made a gesture with her hands, indicating around the size of a cat. "It's the Mortal Cup, Jayce, not the Mortal toilet bowl," said Isidore. "Can we go now?"
Dorothea had her head tilted to the side, her beady eyes very interested. "It's damaged!" she exclaimed. "How could that have happened?" "Damaged?" Clar looked at the Cup, it looked fine to him. "Let me see," said Dorothea, "I'll show you." she took a step towards Clar, holding her hand out. Clar didn't know why but he backed away. Then Jayce was between them, her hand on the sword at her waist, she was in protective mode now. like a Lion ready to pounce. "Not to be of offense," she said calmly, "but nobody but us touches the Cup."
Dorothea stared with the same blank look in her eyes. "Now, now," she said. "Let's not be hasty. Valentine would be very unhappy if something were to happen to the Cup." With a soft sliding sound, Jayce's sword came free from her waist. She held the point below Dorothea's chin. Her look was steady. "I do not know what this is about," she said. "But we're going."
Dorothea's eyes gleamed. "But of course, Shadowhunter," she said and backed up to the curtained wall. "Would you like to use my portal?" The point of Jayce's sword wavered as she stared in confusion for a moment. Then Clar saw her jaw clench. "Do not touch—"
Dorothea gave a chuckle, and quickly she jerked the curtain away. The portal behind the curtains was open. Clar heard Alec suck in her breath behind him. "What is that?" Clar had caught the slightest glimpse of what was visible through the door—red clouds rolling through with black lightening, and a horrifying dark shape running towards them—Jayce shouted for them to get down. She dropped to the floor, pulling Clar down with her. He looked up to see the running dark thing strike Dorothea, who screamed. Instead of knocking her down, the dark thing wrapped around her, the blackness seeping into her skin, Her shape stretching and reforming into something monstrous.
Beside him Jayce whispered something. Something like a sound of disbelief. Next to her, Alec in a choked voice said. "I thought you said there wasn't much demonic activity— you said the levels were low!" "They were!" Jayce growled. "Your level of low must be different than mine!" Alec yelled, as the thing that was once Dorothea howled, it was very misshapened.
Clar tore his eyes away as Jayce stood, yanking him up after her. Isidore and Alec stumbled to their feet, and gripped their weapons. Isidore's hand on his whip was trembling slightly.
"Move it!" Jayce shoved Clar towards the apartment door. When he looked back over his shoulder, he saw a strom of clouds with a dark shape in it's center. The four of them burst out into the foyer, Isidore ahead of them. He raced to the front door, tried to open it, and turned with a strinken face. "It's resistant. She must have put a spell—"
Jayce cursed and fumbled in her jacket. "Where the hell is my Stele—" "I got it," Clar said, remembering bsje gave it to him earlier. As he reached for his pocket, there was a noise like an explosion. The floor shook under him. He stumbled, nearly falling, he caught at the banister for support. When he looked up, he saw there was now a hole separating the foyer and Dorothea's apartment, through which something was climbing out.
"Alec!" It was Jayce, who shouted: but Alec was standing in front of the hole white faced with a look of horror at the hole. Jayce swore, and ran up to grab her, dragging her back as the thing pulled it's way out of the hole and into the foyer.
Clar heard himself catch his breath. The creatures flesh was bruised-looking. Through the skin black bones stuck out, bones that looked a thousand years old. It's fingers were skeletal looking, it's arms covered in dripping black sores through which there was more black bone. It's face was skull, its eyes and nose caved in like holes. It brushed it's taloned fingers against the floor. It was at the least nine feet tall. Looking down at the four with empty eye sockets "Give me the Mortal Cup, and I will let you live," it breathed out.
Clar panicked and looked at the others. Isidore looked as if the sight of the thing hit him like a punch to the stomach. Alec wasn't moving. It was Jayce, always Jayce, who spoke up. "What are you?" she asked, her voice steady, but was more rattled than Clar had ever seen her.
The thing inclined it's head at them. "I am Abbadon. The demon of the abyss. Mine is the empty places between the worlds. I am the wind and the howling darkness. I am nothing like insects you call demons. You cannot hope to defeat me. Give the Cup to me or die." Isidore's hand trembled as he held his whip. "It's a Greater Demon," he said. "Jayce, we—"
"What about Dorothea?" Clar's voice came Out shrill, not intending to. "What happened to her?" The demons empty eyes regarded him. "She was nothing more than a vessel," it said. "She opened the portal and I took possession of her. He death was a swift one." It moved it's gaze to the Cup in Clar's hand. "Yours will not."
It started toward Clar. Jayce moved and blocked its way, her glittering sword in one hand, a seraph blade in the other. Alec was looking at her, her expression filled with horror. "By the Angel," Jayce said. Giving the demon a look up and down. "I knew Greater Demons were ugly, but no one warned me about the stench."
Abbadon opened its mouth and hissed at her. Inside was two rows of jagged sharp teeth. "I'm not too sure about howling darkness and wind stuff," Jayce went on. "Smells like a landfill to me. Are you perhaps from Staten Island?" The demon leaped at Jayce. Jayce whipped her blades up and outward with a frightening speed; both sank into the demon's chest. Howling, it struck out at her, knocking her aside like a cat batting a kitten aside. Jayce rolled and got back up on her feet, but Clar could see by the way she was holding her arm that she'd been injured.
That was enough to make Isidore dart forward and lash the demon with his whip. It struck the demon, a red weal appeared, blood dripping from it. The demon ignored Isidore and went toward Jayce. With her uninjured hand Jayce drew out another seraph blade. She whispered to it and it blazed up in bright light. She raised it as the demon came up in front of her; she looked so small in front of it, like a child in front of a giant. And she was grinning, even as the demon reached for her.
Isidore, screaming, lashed out at it with his whip, sparying blood across the floor— The demon struck, its razored hand slashing down at Jayce. Jayce staggered back, but wasn't harmed. Something had thrown itself between the demon and Jayce, a slim black shadow with a blazing blade in it's hand. Alec.
The demon shrieked— Alec's featherstaff had pierced it. Snarling it struck out again, its bone-talons catching Alec with a vicious blow that lifted her off her feet and threw her against the far wall. She struck it with a terrible crunch and slid to the floor. Isidore screamed his sister's name. She wasn't moving. Lowering his whip, he started to run to her. The demon turned, hit him with a blow that sent him to the ground. Coughing up blood, Isidore started to get back up; Abbadon knocked him down again, and this time he was still.
The demon was moving toward Clar. Jayce stood there frozen, staring at Alec's crumpled body like someone caught in a daze. Clar screamed as Abbadon got closer. He started to back up the stairs, stumbling up the broken steps, the stele in his hand burned. If only he had a weapon—
Isidore had pulled himself into a sitting position. He screamed at Jayce. Clar heard his own name in Isidore's screams and saw Jayce, blink as if slapped awake, spin toward him. She started to run. The demon was close enough no that Clar saw the sores on its skin. It reached for him. But there was Jayce knocking Abbadon's hand aside. She flung her seraph blade at the demon; it struck the creature's chest, right next to the other two blades that were already there.
The demon snarled as if the blades were simple just a annoyance. "Nephilim," it snarled. "I will take pleasure in killing you, in hearing your bones crunch just as your friend's did—" Jumping onto the banister, Jayce flung herself at Abbadon. The force from the jump knocked the demon backward; it staggered slightly, Jayce clung to it's back. She seized a seraph blade from its chest, sending a splatter of ichor, and brought it down, over and over again, into the demon's back.
Snarling Abbadon backed toward the wall. Jayce had to drop or be crushed. She fell to the floor, landing lightly, and raised her blade again. But Abbadon was too fast for her; its hand struck out, and knocked Jayce into the stairs. She went down, the demon's talons at her throat.
"Tell them to give the Cup to me," Abbadon snarled, talons just above Jayce's skin. "Tell them to give it to me and I'll let you live." Jayce swallowed. "Clar—" But he would never know what she was going to say. Cause at that moment the front door swung open. And for a moment all he saw was brightness. Then, blinking away the bright afterimage. Saw Simone standing in the doorway. Simone. He had forgotten that she was outside.
She saw him crouched on the stairs, her gazed moved past him to Abbadon and Jayce. She reached back over her shoulder. She had Alec's bow, he realized, the quiver was strapped to her back. She drew an arrow from it, fitted it to the string, and with expertise lifted the bow, as if she'd done that exact thing a hundred times. The arrow sprang free, it made a buzzing sound, as it shot above Abbadon and plunged toward the roof—
It shattered the skylight. Dirty glass fell like rain and through it streamed in sunlight, flooding the foyer with light. Abbadon screamed and staggered, shielding itself from the light.
Jayce brought a hand to her unharmed throat, staring in disbelief as the demon crumpled, to the floor howling. Clar expected it to burn up in flames, but instead it folded in on itself. Crumpling like burning paper, and after a minute it was gone, leaving only scorch marks.
——————
What Simone had done was impressive, but Jayce wasn't thinking about that, and couldn't care about it at the moment either. She needed to get to Alec. Alec was hurt because of her. She was struggling to get up, she had to get up, get to Alec.
Clar was there now helping her. "Jayce—" "I'm fine," she said, sitting up and wiping blood from her mouth. "Alec—" "Your Stele," he interrupted, reaching in his pocket. "Do you need to heal yourself?"
She looked at him, he looked worried. But she was holding herself back from lashing out at him. "I'm fine," she told him again, and pushed him aside, not very gently. She got to her feet, and staggered, nearly falling over, but all she could think about was if Alec was okay.
"Alec?" She limped across the foyer to her, who was still unconscious. Isidore was there with Alec's head cradled in his lap, stroking her hair, his dark eyes were shining, like he was on the verge of tears. Alec was breathing slowly, but she was breathing. She was covered in blood in many places and she looked very pale, her blue eyes an unnatural blue.
"Clar!" she yelled. "I need my stele." Alec looked bad, please she thought, please be okay. Alec grabbed her wrist, it left blood smears. "Did I. . .," she started and stopped to look at Clar for a moment. "Did I kill it?" She felt like she had been punched, what was she supposed to say? No? You did? But that would be a lie, she didn't want the last she said to Alec to be a lie. "You—" "Yes," said Clar. "It's dead."
Alec glanced at him and laughed. That made blood bubble up inside her mouth. Jayce pulled her free, and touched her fingers to either side of Alec's face. "Stop," she said. "Hold still, Just hold still." "Do what you must," whispered Alec, and closed her eyes. Isidore held his stele out to her. "Take it." She nodded, grabbed it, and drew the tip of the stele to the front of Alec's shirt. The material parted, cut open as if Jayce had used a knife. She yanked the shirt open, revealing her bra. Clar looked away. Jayce saw the injury, claw marks, each one red and oozing, This is bad she thought. She set her jaw, and set the stele to Alec's skin, moving it back and forth, drawing the runes she knew as well as the back of her hand.
But the runes weren't working, they were vanishing as quickly as she drew them. and what Jayce had feared most came true, she had Greater Demon poison in her. She threw the stele. "Damn it." "What's wrong?" asked Isidore in a shrill voice. "It cut her with its talons," she said. "She has Greater Demon poison in her. The marks can't work." She touched Alec's face again gently. "Alec," she said. "Can you hear me?" She didn't move. Please Alec she thought, move, don't you fucking dare die, you can't.
Isidore with his head over Alec's and arms around her. "Maybe," Clar whispered. "We could—" "Take her to a hospital." said Simone. And once again Jayce was holding herself back from lashing out. "I'll carry her to the van. There's a hospital down—" she started but Iz cut her off. "No. No hospitals," said Isidore. "We need to get her back to the Institute." "But—"
Jayce get it together, she thought, Alec needs you. "They don't know how to treat Greater Demon sounds at hospitals," Jayce said. "Ok. Let's get her to the the van."
There was a blanket in the back that Isidore used to drape across the backseat and they laid Alec down across, her head on sidore's lap. And Jayce crouched down on the floor beside Alec. Jayce felt the panic going through her veins, she looked at Simone and said. "Drive fast, mundane. drive like hell is following you." And she drove.
Alec was going to be okay, she has to be. She thought back to all the times Alec had protected her and kept her safe, why couldn't she had done the same for Alec. She was supposed to, they are parabatai, and fellow warriors. But the worst thing is, because she wasn't thinking about Alec first thing, no, when the demon attacked she thought of Clar, protect Clar her mind said. She wanted to punch herself, please she said for the hundredth time, let Alec be okay.
——————
Simone was driving fast, just as Jayce told her to do. Clar clutched his seat as Simone went across the bridge. He thought about the awful things he had said to Alec, the way she had thrown herself at Abbadon, and the look of victory on her face. When he turned his head now, he saw Jayce kneeling beside her friend as her blood seeped through the blanket. He thought of the little girl with the dead falcon. To love is to destroy.
He turned back around, he felt a lump In the back of his throat. he could see Isidore in the rearview mirror, wrapping the blanket around his sister's throat. He looked up and met Clar's eyes. "How much longer?" "Ten minutes, maybe. Simone's driving as fast she can." "I know," Isidore said. "Simone—what you did back there, that was amazing. You moved so fast. I wouldn't have thought a mundane could have thought of something like that." Simone seemed unfazed even by praise from someone so unexpected. "Shooting out the skylightt, you mean? I hit me after what you guys said about how demons can't stand direct sunlight. I was thinking about it a lot out in the car, so actually it took be a bit to act on. Don't feel bad," she added. "You can't even see the skylight unless you know that it's there."
I knew it was there, Clar thought. I should have done something. Even if I didn't have a bow, I could have thrown something or have told Jayce about it. He felt useless and stupid, and thickheaded. The truth was he was scared, too scared to think right. He felt shame surge up inside him. Jayce spoke at that moment. "It was a good idea," she said. Simone narrowed her eyes. "So, if you don't have a problem with telling me about that thing. where it came from?" "Madame Dorothea," said Clar. "It was her, kinda." "She was never exactly stunning, but I don't remember her looking like that." "She was possessed, I think," said Clar, trying to piece everything together in his head. "She wanted me to give her the Mortal Cup. Then oped the portal. . ."
"It was smart," said Jayce. "The demon possessed her, then hid itself mostly just outside the portal, where the sensor wouldn't pick it up. So we went in assuming to only fight a few Forsaken. But instead we were facing a Greater Demon. Abbadon—one of the ancient ones. Lord of the Fallen." "I guess the fallen one will have to stay that way from now on," said Simone, turning onto the street. "He isn't dead," said Isidore. "Nobody has really ever killed a Greater Demon. You have to kill them in their physical and ethereal forms for them to die. We just scared It off."
"Oh," said Simone looking disappointed. "What about Madame Dorothea—" He broke off, as Alec began to choke, her breath ragged. Jayce swore under her breath viciously. "Why are we not there yet?" "We are. I just would prefer not to crash into a wall." As Simone pulled carefully at the corner.
Clar saw Hodge at the Institute door with it opened. The van jerked as Jayce leaped out, reaching back to help lift Alec as if she weighed nothing, isidore helping Jayce carry her up the walk. The institute door slammed behind them.
Exhaustion washing over him, Clar looked to Simone. "I'm sorry about the blood. I don't know what you'll tell Erica." "Screw Erica," she said with conviction in her tone. "Are you okay?" "Not even a scratch. Everyone else got hurt, but I didn't." "That's their job, Clar," she said gently. "Fighting demons everyday, that's what they do. Not you."
"Yeah, and what do I do?" he asked, looking for an answer. "Exactly what do I do?" "You retrieved the cup," she said. "Right?" He gave a nod and tapped his jacket pocket. "Yeah." He saw relief wash over her. "I was almost afraid to ask," she said. "That's very good, isn't it?" "Yes, it is." he thought about his mom and sister, and his hand tightened on the cup. "I know it is."
-
Church was there to met him at the top of the stairs, yowling, he led him to the infirmary. The doors to the infimary were open, through them Clar could see Alec lying still on one of the white beds. Hodge bent over her; Isidore holding a tray in his hands.
Jayce wasn't with them. She wasn't with them because she was outside the infimary leaning against the wall, her bloody fists clenched at her sides. When Clar stopped in front of her, her eyes flew open, and he saw her pupils were so dilated that the gold was sallowed up.
"How's she doing?" he asked as gentle as he could. "She's lost a lot of blood, regular demon poisonings are common, but since it was a Greater Demon, Hodge doesn't know if the antidotes he usually uses will work."
He reached out to touch her. "Jayce—" She flinched away. "Don't." He sucked his breath in. "I never would have wished for anything to happen to Alec. I'm so, so sorry." She looked up at him as if seeing him there for the first time. "It isn't your fault," she said. "It's mine."
"Yours? Jayce, you can't think—" "Oh, but it is," she said, her voice so fragile. "Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa." "What does that mean?" "My fault," she said. "My own fault, my most grievous fault. It's latin." She brushed his hair out of his eyes, she didn't seem to be aware she was doing it. "Part of the mass."
"I thought you didn't believe in religion." "I may not believe in sin," she said, "but I feel guilt. We Nephilim live by a code, and that code is not flexible. Honor, fault, penance, those are a very real to us, and they have nothing to do at all with religion and everything to do with who we are. This is who I am Clar," she said so desperately. "I am one of the Clave. It's in my blood and bones. So answer me this, if you are so sure this isn't my fault, why is it that when I first saw Abbadon, my first thought wasn't for my fellow warriors but for you?" She grabbed him by the shirt and gently brought his head down to press their foreheads together, her fists clenched so tightly in his shirt that her knuckles were white. "I knew—i knew—Alec wasn't acting like herself. I knew there was something wrong. But all I could think about was you. . ."
He felt her breath on him. He closed his eyes, letting the closeness of Jayce wash over him like a tide. "If she dies, it will be my fault, it will be like I killed her," she said. "I let my father die, and now I've killed the only sister I have ever had." "That isn't true," he whispered. "Yes, it is." They were so close that they could kiss. And still she held on so tight, as if nothing could reassure her of his realness.
"Clar," she said. "What's happening with me? What the hell is happening to me?" He searched his mind for some kind of answer— and heard someone clear their throat. He opened his eyes. There stood Hodge by the infimary door. "I have done can. she is sedated, in no pain but. . ." he shook his head. "I must go and contact the Silent Brothers at once. This is beyond my abilities."
Jayce drew away slowly. "How much time will it take for then to get here?" "I do not know," said Hodge, as he started walking down the corridor. "I'll send Hugo right away, but they come on their own time." "But this is—" Jayce was saying as she tried to keep up with Hodge, Clar had fallen behind and strained his ears to listen. "She could die, I mean." "She may." was all Hodge said.
The library was dark, Hodge walked over to the desk and turned to lamp on. "It's a shame," said Hodge, as he got some papar and a pen. "That you did now retrieve the Mortal Cup. It would bring Alec some peace and certainly—" "But I did retrieve it," said Clar. "Jayce, didn't you tell him?" "There wasn't time—i was carrying Alec up the stairs and. . ."
Hodge went still. "You have the Cup?" "Yes," Clar said, he pulled it out his pocket. "Right here." Hodge dropped the pen he was holding. "This is the Angel's Cup?" "Yes," said Jayce. "It was—"
"Don't mind that now," said Hodge. He set the paper down on the desk, and walked over to Jayce, he put his hands on her shoulders. "Jayce Wayland, have you any idea what you've done?" Jayce looked at Hodge, surprised. Jayce's hair had fallen into her eyes making her look very young, almost like a child. "I don't know what you mean," Jayce said.
Hodge hissed through his breath. "He would be so proud." "Who?" said Jayce astonished; she'd clearly never heard Hodge talk like this before. "Your father," Hodge said, and lifted his eyes to Hugo. "Hugin," he said, and the bird dived right for Clar's face, it's claws outstretched.
—
Clar heard Jayce shout his name, and then there was feathers and slashing beak and claws. He felt pain along his cheek and lifted his arms up to cover his face. He felt the Mortal Cup pulled from his hand. "No!" he cried, trying to grab it. Pain shot up his arm. And his knees went out from under him. He fell to the floor, his knees hitting hard on the floor. Claws scratched his forehead.
"Enough, Hugo," said Hodge quietly. The bird obediently stopped and spun away from Clar. He blinked blood out of his eyes, his face felt torn up. Hodge hadn't moved from where he was standing, he was holding the Mortal Cup. Hugo circling him.
And Jayce— Jayce lay on the floor at his feet as if she had fallen asleep. All he thought of was her at that moment. "Jayce!" Speaking hurt, the pain from where Hugo had clawed him was agonizing and he tasted blood in his mouth. Jayce still wasn't moving. "She is not hurt," said Hodge. Clar started to get up, meaning to fling himself at Hodge —but instead he hit something invisible but hard. He was infuriated and slammed his fist against the whatever it was.
"Hodge!" he yelled. Kicking his foot out and almost hitting the invisible wall again. "Don't be a fool. When the Clave finds out—" "I'll be gone by the time they do," he said, as he kneeled over Jayce. "But—" he felt shocked, realization rushing through him. "You never told the Clave, did you? That's why you were acting strange. Because you wanted to Cup all for yourself." "No," he said. "Not for myself." Clar's throat was dry. "You work for Valentine," he whispered.
"I don't work for Valentine," said Hodge. He lified Jayce's hand and drew the engraved ring she always wore from it. He slipped it onto his own finger. "I am however one of his men, it is true." He twisted the ring on his finger three times. For a moment nothing happened; but then Clar heard what sounded like a door opening and turned to the library door. When he turned back the air around Hodge was shimmering, like the surface of a lake. The shimmering wall of air parted, and then a tall man was beside Hodge, as if a had appeared out of thin air.
"Starkweather," said the man. "I assume you have the Cup?" Hodge raised it without a word, he seemed paralyzed, Clar wasn't sure if it was with astonishment it feat. "Lord Valentine," said Hodge. "I wasn't expecting you so suddenly."
Valentine, did not look how Clar had expected, not sure what exactly he had expected though. He looked carved out of staue almost.
"I told you I would come through a portal," he said. "Did you not believe me?" "I did it's just— I was expecting Pangborn or Blackwell, not for to come yourself." "Do you really think I would send them to retrieve the Cup from you? I am not foolish. I know it's luring power." Valentine held out his hand, he had a ring similar to Jayce's, but his had stars around it. "Hand it to me."
But Hodge held onto it. "I want what you promised me first." "Do you not trust me Starkweather?" Valentine smiled. "I'll do what you asked for, a deal is a deal. Though I must say I was surprised by your message. I never thought you'd mind a life like this. You were never one for the battlefield." "You have no idea what it's like," Hodge said. "Being afraid all the time—"
"You're right. I do not." Valentine's voice sounded almost sorrowful, his eyes looked sorrowful as well, like he pitied Hodge. But there was also dislike. "If you do not intend to give me the Cup," he said. "You shouldn't have called me here."
"It is not easy to betray those who trust you." "Do you mean the Lightwoods, or their children?" "Both," said Hodge. "The Lightwoods." Vaelntine reached out, and touched the globe on the desk, tracing the outlines of the continents. "But what is you owe them? You were given the punishment that should have been theirs. If they didn't have such high connections they would have been cursed as well. But as it is, they get to walk free. And are able to go home."his voice as he said home trailed with all it's meaning. His fingers stopped on the globe, Clar assumed it was where Idris must be.
Hodge looked away. "They did what anyone would have done." "You wouldn't have done it. I wouldn't have done it. To leave a friend to suffer in my place? Surely it must bring some bitterness in you, Starkweather, to know they left you to suffer in their place, left the punishment to you. . ."
Hodge shook. "But it isn't the children's fault. They haven't done anything—" "I didn't know you to be fond of children," said Valentine, as if he was entertained by this. Hodge's breath rattled. "Jayce—" "You will not speak of Jayce." Valentine sounded angry for the first time. He glanced to where Jayce lay motionless on the floor. "She is bleeding," Valentine observed. "Why is that?"
Hodge held the Cup closer to himself. "It's not her own blood. She is unconscious, but not hurt." Valentine smiled pleasantly as he lifted his head. "I wonder," he said. "What she'll think about you when she wakes. Betrayal is ugly, but to betray a child—that is a double betrayal, wouldn't you say?" "You won't hurt her," Hodge whispered. "You promised you would not hurt her."
"I did not say that," said Valentine. "Come, Now." He walked away from the desk, toward Hodge, who flinched away. Clar could see the misery. "And what is it you would if I said I did plan on hurting her? Would you fight me? Keep me from getting the Cup? Even if you were to kill me, the Clave would never release of the curse. You'll hide here until you die, afraid. What would you trade to be free of that? To go home again?"
Clar couldn't bear to look at Hodge's face any longer. In a choked voice he said. "Say you won't hurt her, and I'll hand you the Cup." "No," said Valentine. "You'll give me the Cup anyway." He held his hand.
Hodge closed his eyes, his face looked pained, as if he wore being crushed under a significant weight. Then he swore, and held the Cup out to Valentine, with his hand shaking. "Thank you," Valentine said. He took it and looked at it thoughtfully. "I do think you've dented the rim."
Hodge said nothing. Valentine bent down and lifted Jayce into his arms, as he did Clar noticed he was a massive man, his torso like the trunk of an oak tree. Jayce, limp in his arms, looked like a child.
"She will be with her father soon enough," said Valentine, looking down at Jayce's face. "Where she belongs." Hodge gave a flinch. Valentine turned away and walked toward the shimmering air that he had come through. He must have left the portal open behind him, Clar realized. Looking at it was like looking at the sun.
Hodge reached out. "Wait!" He cried. "What about what you promised? You swore you would lift my curse". "True," said Valentine. He stopped, and looked hard at Hodge, who stepped back with a gasp, his hand flew to his chest, as if stabbed in the heart. Black fluid trickled down his fingers and onto the floor.
Hodge lifted his face to Valentine. "It's done?" he asked. "The curse—it is gone?" "Yes," said Valentine. "And may your bought freedom bring you happiness." And with that he stepped through the portal. And vanished, taking Jayce with him.
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