#clary fray

He plucks the card out of Clary’s hand to hold it up to her, and immediately she can tell something’s different about that card. She’s not sure what, exactly—it’s eerily angular and straight-lined, but that’s just how Jo paints sometimes. No, whatever it is is more subtle, but before she can figure it out Jace shifts and steps in front of her, card held between them. Madame Dorothea moved closer while Clary wasn’t looking, and even at a glance it’s easy to see something shifted in her. The haze has left her eyes, replaced by a gaunt sort of hunger, almost feverish in her expression as she looms over Jace and hisses:

“What’s it do?” Her breath smells like rotting eggs, and Clary lets herself be maneuvered behind Jace, away from the couch. “Its gets the Cuuuuups—”