Valentine's Arrow

Prologue

REBECCA

The rattling of the elevator was alarmingly loud as it jangled to a stop at the third floor of the Institute. Rebecca had never liked elevators. As a child, all she had been able to think about while riding one was how easy it would be to get trapped inside. She could feel her heart thudding away in her chest; it was so loud she was sure that Clary, who was right on her heels, was able to hear it.

"Come on," she whispered to Clary, sliding open the gilded elevator doors and stepping out into the hallway.

"Rebecca," Clary said nervously. "You're sure the library will be empty?"

As her heart gave another nervous flutter, Rebecca turned to Clary with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine. Don't worry, Clary."

I'm one to talk, she reflected, as her heart continued to thud away inside her chest.

They hurried across the hallway, reaching the library without encountering anyone. Even though Rebecca had lived here all her life, the library gave her chills every time she walked inside. The sprawling ground floor was tastefully decorated with tables and desks and comfortable-looking armchairs; despite the vast number of bookshelves, it still looked spacious. In contrast, the railed second-floor gallery was smaller, crowded with bookshelves, and much cozier. Rebecca had been very fond of spending afternoons here, curled up in an armchair in the corner, but ever since Hodge had left, she had stopped enjoying the silent company of the library. His desk stood in the center of the room, almost exactly as he had left it. She half-expected Hodge to stand up behind it with Hugo perched on his shoulder.

Shaking off the memory, she turned to Clary. "The rings are up there," she said, gesturing to the staircase that led up to the gallery. They had both donned rubber-soled sneakers, and Rebecca had marked herself with a soundless rune just to be on the safe side. The heavy silence seemed eerie rather than comforting as they bounded up the steps and walked past rows of bookshelves, heading for the display cases at the far end.

Clary stopped to gape at a few of them. A delicate glass flacon whose stopper was an enormous emerald; a crown with a diamond in the center that did not look as if it would fit any human head; a pendant in the shape of an angel whose wings were clockwork cogs and gear; and, the objective of their mission - a pair of gleaming golden rings shaped like curling leaves, the faerie work as delicate as a baby's breath.

Trying to control her shaking hand, Rebecca pulled out her stele and set it to the smooth glass surface of the display case. Is this really me? she thought. Stealing from the Institute, my home, to pay the Queen of the Fair Folk, who, as I very well know, are like scorpions, with a barbed sting in the tail?

Unbidden, the words of the Seelie Queen came back to haunt her. For as is often the happenstance with that which is precious and lost, when you find him again, he may well not be quite as you left him. They had been sitting in the back of her mind ever since their meeting with the Seelie Queen. Now, the words bubbled to the surface, drowning out almost everything else.

"Rebecca?" Clary's voice brought her out of her reverie. She was looking at Rebecca anxiously, her green eyes clouded with concern.

"You should do it," Rebecca said, stepping away from the display case. "You're the best at runes, after all."

Clary nodded, moving forward confidently. Then she stopped to look back at Rebecca. "Are you sure you're alright with this?"

Rebecca nodded, biting the inside of her lip. "I'll do anything it takes to get Jace back."

The words seemed to fill Clary with a renewed sense of confidence; her green eyes hardened, and she began to move the stele against the glass, tracing out a simple opening rune. Before she could complete it, however, they heard a distant scraping sound, followed by a low creak. Rebecca instantly knew what it was. The door to the library was opening.