Dark Clarity

ANOTHER NEW FANFIC Y'ALL! And this is a Wessa/Clace/Cebriel/Sideon/Sizzy/Malec sort of fanfic. Main ships will be Wessa and Clace (which is sort of a spoiler).

Summary: When Tessa Gray and Clary Fairchild are relocated to the London Institute, most of their former Institute goes along with them, including their best friends Will and Jace Herondale. As Tessa's relationship with Will and Clary's relationship with Jace begin to change, Clary's murderous father throws himself into the lives of Shadowhunters with vengeance just when he was believed to be dead. Clary and Jace grow closer and closer while Will and Tessa find themselves in the same situation. Maybe life would be perfect if the Clave wasn't sending them to Idris all of a sudden and if the danger from Valentine hadn't increased by a mile.

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DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything here. Unfortunately :(

Chapter One: Oriental Daggers

TESSA

My black eye sees no shadow

Your red eye sees no blame

Your slaps don't stick

Your kicks don't hit

So we remain the same

-Florence + the Machine, "Kiss With a Fist"

I poked my adopted sister, Clary Fairchild, in the shoulder right on one of her numerous runes. The petite redhead jumped away from me with a giggle, rubbing her shoulder and retaliated by sending a swift kick to my ankle. The kick sent me off balance and I stumbled sideways, my dark hair swinging into my face and temporarily clouding my vision.

Damn hair. "Hey!"

Clary chuckled, dodging my kick at her ankle, an impish smile painted all over her face. She made a face and said reproachfully, "That poke hurt, Tessa!"

I rolled my eyes. "Clary. You're a Shadowhunter. I've seen you break a rib and not even shed so much as a tear about it, so don't try that excuse on me."

Clary pouted, her huge emerald eyes glittering with a grin. "They don't teach me how to fend off stabs in the shoulder from sisters. I may be a Shadowhunter, but. . ."

I stifled a grin. Clary was a Shadowhunter, and I was nearly positive they taught her how to fight off just about anything and everything. She was my "adopted sister"— a girl who I'd met at the Brooklyn Institute when I was eight. Now at sixteen, we were best friends. Clary had been at the Brooklyn Institute because of her father, Valentine, who had killed her mother, Jocelyn. I'd been shipped over there by being rescued from two women, Mrs. Dark and Mrs. Black, who'd kidnapped me for my powers, which at the time, I had absolutely no clue I'd had. I was a shape-changer, and probably the only one of my kind (at least so far). Clary's father had discovered her gift for creating runes and had manipulated her raw, untrained power for his use. Valentine had nearly torn apart the Clave before he was caught and put to death. We'd been the only two girls at the Brooklyn Institute, and had bonded a few days after arriving. Several years later, Clary was trained almost perfectly in fighting and how to control her gift, and I was an expert at shapeshifting but a little behind in fighting. Oh well. I'd never liked punching something so much my knuckles bled anyways.

Now, ever since a few days ago, Clary and I were being sent off to the London Institute, and then maybe to Idris, the homeland of Shadowhunters. I was a Downworlder, so I technically wasn't allowed in Idris, but no one really cared. Except for the Clave, our government, but they were always a different story.

Clary and I had just gotten off the airplane to London. So far, my basic impression of London was that it was gray and rainy. But that didn't lessen my excitement to explore the city and the institute, not to mention maybe pull a few pranks on a very certain someone.

"Tessa. Earth to Theresa Gray!" Clary's voice sounded right in my ear and I half-jumped sideways, scanning the crowds of people in the bustling airport.

"What? Is there a—"

"No!" Clary interrupted, exasperated. "I've been calling your name for the past two minutes."

"Oh. Sorry," I apologized, dragging my suitcase. Well, I supposed it was my fault— I was the one who'd insisted on bringing my entire collection of books instead of letting Hodge, my old professor, ship them to me. "What were you asking me?"

Clary huffed. "I was asking if the group is meeting us here."

I couldn't hide my grin. By "the group" she meant most of the Shadowhunters from the Brooklyn Institute, who were also being sent along with us and some of the Shadowhunters from the London Institute. The Shadowhunters from the Brooklyn Institute were Jace, Cecily, and Will Herondale— Will and Cecily were brother and sister while Jace was their cousin. Isabelle and Alec Lightwood were coming along with them. Aline Penhallow had been relocated back to her family house in Alicante, the capital of Idris. And Jessamine Lovelace, who'd been in the Brooklyn Institute for a short time because her parents were killed in a fire, had been in London for several years by now.

"Yeah, they are, Clary. Relax your tiny redhead brain for a moment. I know you're super-duper excited to see your best friend Jace, but calm down for a sec."

A faint blush rose up in Clary's lightly freckled cheeks and she stared at her shoes as we headed over to the baggage claim, scuffing her toes along the airport carpet. "Jeez Tessa, he's my best friend. Of course I'm excited to see him. And don't even get me started on how you and Cecily will jump around and squeal like mice. And then there's the magnificent Will Herondale. . ."

"Give me a break!" I defended, tugging on one of Clary's fiery curls. "We're friends."

"My point with Jace exactly," Clary smirked, and I knew she'd won that little argument.

I sighed, and opened my mouth to say something when all of a sudden, a masculine voice behind us went, "What point about me?"

I knew who it was before even turning around. Only Jace Herondale had a voice like that. And only he was always listening for his name. "Hey, Jace!"

Jace grinned. "What's up, Tes—"

His words were cut off by Clary unceremoniously flinging her arms around his neck with a laugh and, as I was guessing, a punch in the ribs. That was Clary Fairchild for you.

I left them to their little reunion as I trudged off towards the baggage claim, which Clary had already coined as the "carousel." I suppose some people did call it that, so I couldn't exactly poke fun at her for that one.

I arrived at the baggage claim with a smile on my face. Will and Cecily were bantering with each other, as per usual. I could see their matching sets of blue-violet eyes glaring at each other already. Alec was standing awkwardly off to the side, scanning the bags floating around the carousel. He looked like he didn't know what to do with his arms. Izzy was latched onto his side and as I approached them, I could see why: She was doing anything to keep from falling over in her high-heeled shoes. Typical Isabelle.

"Hi Izzy and Alec!" I exclaimed as Alec hauled a bag off the carousel, shooting a glare at it.

"Hey, Tessa!" Isabelle waved at me. "I walk over to say hi to you, but. . ." She gestured to her shoes.

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my mouth. "Only you would wear five-inch heels to the airport, Iz."

Alec gave me a friendly grin. "Tessa, is this your bag?"

I stared at him. "Yes. Are you a psychic or something?"

He raised an eyebrow and pointed to the tag, which was a cutout of Lucie, Sydney, and Charles from A Tale of Two Cities, which was my favorite book. "No, I just know what your favorite book happens to be."

"Oh. Right. Thanks!" Stop with the one-word sentences already, Tessa, I scolded myself.

"And what did you pack in it, rocks?"

"If you're talking about Crime and Punishment, then yes." I giggled. Crime and Punishment by Dostoevsky was practically some kind of doorstop. The kind of doorstop that broke people's feet when you dropped it on them, it was so heavy.

"Jesus, Tessa." Alec slapped a hand to his forehead. "Why didn't you just let Hodge—"

"Because no one else is trusted enough to handle my books, that's why," I sniffed. Isabelle laughed, her grip like iron on Alec's arm.

"And. . . There's my Tess," a voice drawled. "Never lets go of her books, eh Alec?"

And that would be Will Herondale. I spun around and, sure enough, there was Will in all his glory. Which meant that he had a Herondale-brand smirk plastered on his face.

"Why, hello to you too, Will," I remarked sarcastically, swatting his arm lightly. Cecily gave a little squeal and caught me in a crushing hug.

"Tessa, it's so good to see you again!" the dark-haired girl exclaimed joyfully.

"Cecy," I said once she let go of me, "I just saw you four days ago."

"Four days is a long time," scoffed Cecily, her blue eyes glimmering with mischief, and suddenly I had a feeling I knew what was coming next. Cecily had been quite busy playing matchmaker the last few months, and was always slyly slipping in little remarks about Will and I into our conversations. "Especially for Will when you're not there."

Will's jaw dropped and my mouth fell open. Through the corner of my peripheral vision, I spotted Clary and Jace begin to head our way and I prayed that this joke would be over by the time they got over here, or I'd never hear the end of it.

"Cecily!" Will and I snapped simultaneously.

Cecily put both her hands up, a smirk playing about the edges of her mouth. "Hey, hey, I didn't get to finish my sentence!"

Will and I glared at her.

"Before you two just assumed that what I was going to say had something to do with you two dating—"Cecily shoved a hand in Will's face as he started to interrupt her "—I was just about to say that four days is a long time for Will when you're not there, Tessa, because he has no one to hold in-depth book discussions with. Since it's not like anyone else reads as madly as you two."

Will and I relaxed, and of course that was the moment Izzy put in, "You guys are. . . dating?!"

"No!" I cried, mouth agape. "Why does everyone keep saying that?"

Will shot a look at Cecily, who shrugged.

"Who's dating?" blurted Jace, who had finally sauntered up to the baggage claim with Clary.

"No one," Will snapped. "Just you and Clary in a few months."

"Will, they're best friends," I put in with an inward grin at Clary's and Jace's obvious discomfort. "Like us."

"Very true, Tess," Will mused. I could see that he was trying to ward off any other dating rumors about us. "Do you know if there are any ducks in New York?"

I couldn't stifle a laugh. Will and Jace both had a strange phobia of ducks. I had no idea why, and to be honest, I wasn't sure I really wanted to know. "Want me to go and find one?"

"You wouldn't," Will warned as I fiddled with the tag on my suitcase.

"That's right, I'd throw a vase at you instead."

We both laughed at that. Will had been the one that'd found me in what I nicknamed the "Dark House"— the place where Mrs. Dark and Mrs. Black had hidden me. Just earlier that evening, the Dark Sisters had tied me to the bed because I'd escaped. I'd Changed myself into someone else and slithered out of the ropes, and when I'd heard Will coming, I'd chucked a piece of pottery at his head because I thought he was one of the Dark Sisters.

"That hurt, Tess," Will complained. "I had a cut on my hand for weeks."

"Will," I reminded him as we walked out of the airport, "you're a freaking Shadowhunter. I'm 99.9% sure you've had worse."

We reached a black car with tinted windows, Izzy and Alec trailing behind us. Cecily, Jace, and Clary were bringing up the rear, and Jace was bragging to the girls about some new Oriental weapon he'd gotten while in London. I rolled my eyes. It was just so. . . Jace of him.

Will opened one of the car doors and bowed in what I presumed to be a mocking bow. "After you, my lady."

"Thanks, Will." I plopped into the car, sliding down to the window on the other side of the car and Will sat next to me. Cecily, Clary, Jace, Alec, and Isabelle all followed, some of them slipping into the back.

"So," said Isabelle, "how was the flight?"

"Fine," Clary replied, then announced dramatically, "I got stabbed, though!"

Jace's eyes widened. "What? Who? Where is it?"

I snickered, and Will leaned over to me. "What really happened?"

"I poked her in the shoulder." Laughter. "Clary should be an actress or something."

"And that," Will said loudly, "is why you are starting training today. For fighting."

"Ugh. Seriously, William?"

"Yes, Theresa?" Will mimicked.

"So who's teaching me? Clary?"

"Someone better. Much better."

"Okay, who?" I asked Will, my curiosity triggered, and Will smirked. "Give me a few clues here!"

Will's dark blue eyes were deep in thought. "Well, this instructor is very hot, from what I've heard. And this instructor of yours is quite funny. Jace was just listening to a joke from him a few minutes before we had to leave and go to the airport to pick you lot up. "

I perked up. So maybe being trained in fighting wouldn't be that bad after all. . . "Will. I'm dying here! Who is it?"

Will winked. "And. . . wait. It gets better."

"Will!"

"This instructor reads quite a lot. He was rambling on to me about his favorite books yesterday. Does he sound exactly like your type?"

Actually, yes. He did sound exactly like my type. A guy who's hot, funny, and reads. Could it get any better?

"Well, Tess?" Will prodded. "Does he or doesn't he?"

I sighed. I never discussed love or crushes too much with Will, oddly enough. "Um. . . I guess. Yeah. Sure."

"Excellent." Will's teeth gleamed white, and his blue eyes glittered mischievously. "Wanna know who he is?"

"What do you think, William?" I exploded. And of course at that moment, the car turned sharply and Will was thrown into me, slamming me into Clary, who smacked into Jace, who of course had just brought out his very sharp new Oriental dagger and was arrogantly flashing it around the car. As Clary slammed into him, he dropped the dagger and it flew into the seat, narrowly missing his thigh. There was a yelp from the backseat— Alec giving a screech as Isabelle's stiletto stabbed him in the foot.

Jace swore colorfully, staring at the dagger before yanking it out of the seat. Clary snatched it out of his hand and pocketed it with a loud, "What the hell?!" from Jace.

I shoved Will off me and took a breath.

"Oh my God, Jace!" Clary slapped his hand away from her pocket. "Why the heck do you have that out anyways? We're in a car!"

Right before I began to pester Will again, I heard Jace say silkily, "Cars are nice places, Clary. Especially if you weren't talking about my dagger but instead my—"

I could already feel my face turning red even though it wasn't even me Jace was talking to. Clary burst out, "Jace! Get your mind out of the freaking gutter!"

And with that, I quickly spun back to Will, and shot him an inquisitive look. "So? Who's my instructor, Will?"

"Let's see if you can try and guess." Will leaned back in the seat and pinched my side. I swallowed a yelp and glared at him. "Here's a hint," Will continued. "He's read Otranto."

I sighed and pinched him back. "Will, do you honestly think that helps? Loads of people have read Otranto. Including me. Why can't you just freaking tell me? Jesus."

Will ignored the pinch and asked, "Are you positive he's your type?"

"Fine! Yes, godddamnit! Now tell me!" I shouted a little too loudly. Clary and Jace shot me simultaneous looks that said, What the heck are you yelling about?

"So, here's a list of his attributes: this instructor is funny, hot, and reads. Sounds perfect for you, Tess. And his name is. . ." Will paused, then smirked. "Will Herondale!"

My mouth fell open onto the car floor. In hindsight, I probably should've figured out it was Will. Will had been one of my best friends for years, and it was absolutely stupid of me to not realize he'd been talking about himself. When I finally managed to shut my jaw, I felt a cloud of utter mortification flood me. So basically Will had tricked me into saying that he was exactly my type. . . And we were just friends. God.

I sputtered, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Will howled with laughter. I swear, if he wasn't wearing a seatbelt, he would've rolled around in his seat. "I'm your hot, funny, and well-read instructor, Tess. Did you seriously not guess. . . ?"

"You're a jerk!" I snapped. "And you tricked me, you little—"

"No swearing, Theresa," Will said smoothly, putting his hand over my mouth. "So you actually admitted I'm your type?" He dissolved into laughter again.

I ripped his hand from my mouth. "No! Well, maybe I did. . . but that was because I didn't think it was you!"

Will raised one skeptical eyebrow. "Uh huh. Whatever you say, Tess. But I am your instructor, like it or not."

"Ugh!" I huffed, smacking him. "I swear to God, you must be one of the most arrogant people I've ever met! Haven't you heard of modesty?"

"Modesty is for ugly people," Will said dismissively. "And I am so charming that no modesty is needed around this."

I rolled my eyes as the car came to a stop. "Never fear, Will, you're still a jerk."

Will mockingly blew me a kiss as he sauntered out of the car. "Love you too, Tess! See you in an hour in the training room."

As I pulled my bag out of the trunk, one thought flew through my mind. What just happened?

The London Institute was beautiful. It was all Victorian styled, with lots of bright bay windows, twisting corridors, and spiraling staircases. A small, birdlike woman with dark eyes met us in the entry hall, a wide smile upon her lips. There was a man with bright red hair standing next to her, and he was fiddling with a contraption I'd never seen before. She introduced herself as Charlotte, the man said he was Henry. They explained that most of the other inhabitants of the London Institute were out. Doing what, I didn't know. The people that were there were Agatha and Bridget, the head chefs, Cyril, Thomas, Sophie, and Jessamine, who was a Shadowhunter. Sophie showed Clary and I to our rooms. I thought she seemed lovely and kind, despite the ragged scar distorting her face. Everyone else seemed welcoming and very nice, except for Jessamine.

I didn't know what had changed her. When Clary and I had known her in the Brooklyn Institute many years ago, she was quiet, but always had a sweet word for everyone. Now years later, Jessamine was like a ferocious kitten with its claws ready and poised. Her tongue was the sharpest thing I'd ever heard, and she had a perpetually sour look on her face as if she'd drunk one too many glasses of lemon juice. I couldn't say I still felt sorry for her, but I was shocked at the change.

As Sophie led Clary and I up one of the staircases, at the landing was a bay window with a window seat. Lounging on the window seat was a girl with blonde hair in ringlets, fair skin, and brown doe-like eyes. Jessamine. Her, Clary, and I had all been good friends in the Brooklyn Institute before Jessie left, so I was happy to see her.

"Hi, Jessie!" I called, and Clary tossed Jessamine a wave and a small smile.

Jessamine's head shot up, her cold gaze fixating upon Sophie, Clary, and I. Jessamine sneered. "Oh. It's the whore, the ginger, and the nerd."

Clary jerked back, stung. I felt a wash of astonishment spread through me. Sophie's jaw tightened, and she snapped, "Shut up, Jessamine."

"Jessie, why would you say something like that?" Clary pleaded. I was still in shock.

Jessamine flipped her silky curls. "Because I can. Because I want to." She sniffed snootily, picked up her needlepoint, and walked down the staircase we'd just come from.

"What happened to her?" I murmured to Sophie, who was absently running a hand over her scar.

"What do you mean?" Sophie looked confused as we went into a corridor.

"We used to know Jessie. She was at the Brooklyn Institute with us many years ago, and in the short time that she was there, we all became good friends."

"When Jessamine arrived at the London Institute," Sophie answered carefully, "she was reserved. Shy. Kind, almost. But something inside of her broke when she learned she had to be trained, almost. She flew into a fervor, snapping at everyone. Something inside of her changed. And she hasn't changed back ever since then."

"Oh." Clary anxiously twirled a piece of her red hair. "I. . . Well, it doesn't matter now."

"I'm glad you're not dwelling on the matter of Jessamine." Sophie shook her head. "Clary, this is your room. And Tessa, yours is next door to the right. I'll leave you two to your rooms." Sophie smiled softly before disappearing down the hallway.

I was very happy with my room. There was a nice four-poster bed in the middle of the room that I couldn't wait to take a nap on, and an enormous bookshelf with a large closet. The first thing I did was unload all my books onto the shelf from my suitcase. As soon as I was about halfway through, there came a knock on my door. Before I could answer it or say "come in", Will waltzed into the room like he owned it.

"Hello to you too, Will," I said archly, gently putting Great Expectations next to The Great Gatsby. "You could've waited for me to answer the door. You know that, right?"

"But why would I want to do that?" Will grinned and picked up a short book of poems by Tennyson, shelving them in the bookshelf. "I couldn't very well deny our meeting!"

"Luckily, I wasn't changing clothes, although I doubt that would be much of a loss for you."

Will smirked. "You know me so well, Tess, it's scary!"

"Isn't that what best friends do?" I laughed and straightened up. I went over to my suitcase and pulled out some athletic clothing, tossing them on the bed. "Now shoo, so I can change into those for training."

The last thing I heard Will say before he shut the door behind him was, "I don't mind a bit of skin, Tess!"

Right.

I finished changing clothes and opened the door. Will was leaning elegantly on the wall across from my room, and I blinked at him. "I thought you were already up there, Will. . . ?"

"But why would I do that?" Will detached himself from the wall lazily, and set off down the hall. "Then you'd get lost!"

I huffed. Okay, so I wasn't the greatest with directions. . . "Whatever. Where's the training room?"

Will took my hand. "Up these two flights of stairs. Jace said it's near the greenhouse. . . I think?"

I groaned. "Do you have to end that in a question mark?"

Will was silent until we'd reached the end of the second staircase and he opened a door. "And I guess Jace was right for once in his life."

I stepped into the training room and looked around. There were windows everywhere, like the rest of the Institute, and a large, faded target mounted on the north wall. There was racks of weapons by the sidelines. I watched as the swords gleamed in the sunlight.

I hadn't been trained as extensively as Clary, but enough to have a vague idea of how to use almost any weapon and the kinds of kicks and punches to throw. Unfortunately for me, Will was one of the better Shadowhunters there was— except for Jace, who was probably the best. And if there was one thing Will liked, it was to fight. I
had a feeling most of the "training" was going to be him "assessing" my nearly nonexistent abilities by me fighting him. Which automatically meant that I was going down.

I gulped at that thought. "So. . . what're we doing first?"

"Something fun." Will smiled wickedly. "I was thinking—"

"Don't say what you were just about to," I warned, walking over to the weapons and choosing a small, slender knife.

"Goodness. Don't cut my head off, and get your mind out of the gutter," Will replied in a sepulchral tone. "What are you best at, Tess?"

I flipped the knife over in my hand, liking the way the blade caught the light. "I don't know. What do you think?" As soon as I said that, I realized it was a mistake, because Will would probably say—

"I knew it!" Will declared triumphantly. "We'll have to assess your skills. Starting with knife throwing, considering you already have one in your hand."

"Will, seriously?" I sighed heavily. So this would basically be him poking fun at how terrible I was at everything.

Will's eyes glittered evilly. Ugh. "I'm serious, Tess. Or do you want to start with hand-to-hand combat?"

"No," I grumbled. "You'll knock me out and I'll be going around with a broken rib, two black eyes, and a broken nose tomorrow." Without waiting for Will's response, I strode over to the target and tried to dredge up the facts about what makes a good throw.

I remembered the hours Clary had spend with me in the Brooklyn Institute, teaching me that a good throw starts with the body and the way you're lined up. I inhaled and stood up straighter, bending my arm back, then steadily let the knife fly. I heard a thunk as the knife embedded itself an inch away from the center.

"Not bad, Tess," Will commented approvingly. He passed me another knife and I closed my eyes, concentrating as hard as I could. Maybe if I could stall Will with the knives, he'd just "forget" about the hand-to-hand combat thing. Hey, you never know! And I'd rather die than get beat up by Will, of all people.

I threw the knife, and it landed on the outside ring of the target's center.

The next few hours consisted of Will reviewing just about everything with me. He had me tell him all the names of almost every weapon there, except for seraph blades, since I couldn't use those because I'm not a Shadowhunter. Then he had me demonstrate my use of the weapons there, and the London Institute had a lot of weapons. Katanas, aikuchis (which was the knife Jace had been twirling around in the car), longbows that were medieval, bows that were reinforced with sinew, angular composite bows, machetes (which were so heavy I almost stabbed my foot), longswords, khopesh, sabres, broadswords, shortswords, electrum whips, and more that I didn't even know the names of. Will decided I was best with katanas, longswords, and daggers, although he said I was okay with everything else.

Next came hand-to-hand combat, which I was dreading the most— probably because there was the most pain involved. Will didn't actually have me fight him with any of the weapons, because he said it was too dangerous. That was definitely the truth.

"Ready, Tess?" Will asked me with a glint in his eyes.

"What? No way—"

My sentence was cut off by Will landing a punch square on my jaw before I even had time to guard myself. I jerked backwards from him, swearing. When I saw him lunge for me, all of Clary's lessons flew back into my head. What if this was real? I was living in the Shadow World, so something like this was bound to happen soon. And if it was real, then I was practically already dead.

I feinted to the right, and when Will flew that direction, I quickly sidestepped him, darting to the left. Kicking his legs out from under him, I reminded myself to not get too carried away. This was Will, not some Forsaken.

Will recovered instantly, and when I shot a foot up to kick him, he grabbed my foot, effectively putting me on my ass. From my position on the ground, I delivered a kick to his ankle, then bolted to my feet.

But before I knew he was coming, Will tackled me. Now I was back on the ground. . . again. I punched Will in the stomach near his ribs and prayed that would leave a nice bruise. That sent him off me, and I could see him gritting his teeth as he punched me in the jaw again, and a sort of green-blue-red pain crackled throughout my brain. He backed up a little, and I snaked a hand around his leg, dragging him back to the floor.

Will was cursing fluently as I punched him in the same spot as I had before. I wondered when this fight would get called off before we went too far. And then we were a rolling ball of punches and kicks. Every time one of us managed to get back up, the other would pull them back down and the cycle would start again.

"Already at each other's throats, I see," came a familiar voice. Will and I started, and he jumped off me where he was about to give an uppercut. And standing at the door were Clary and Izzy. Isabelle had her golden electrum whip wound around her wrist like a stack of supernatural bracelets, and Clary was flipping an athame in her hand.

"It's not what it looks like," I explained hurriedly, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. "Will was. . ."

Will and I shared a glance and burst out laughing.

Isabelle flicked her whip and it whirled around Will's wrist. He abruptly stopped laughing at the invasion, and Isabelle demanded, "What were you trying to do, kill each other?"

"I'm training Tessa," Will said quickly. "I was assessing her abilities in hand-to-hand combat."

"Seriously, guys," put in Clary with a laugh, "you actually look like you're trying to kill each other or something. I mean, I think you beat each other bloody today."

"You mean Will beat me bloody," I clarified, shoving Will. I yanked Izzy's whip off his wrist and flung it back at the tall, slender girl.

"Well, actually, Tess," Will muttered as he began pulling knives out from the target, "you're much better than I thought you'd be."

"I'm so happy that you have so much confidence in me, Will," I replied sarcastically, and started to help him pull out the knives.

"You might want to clean yourselves up," Clary called after us. "Dinner's in two hours."

"I was serious in there," Will insisted as we set off down the hall again. "Tess, you're pretty damn good at fighting for not being heavily trained in it. Must be a natural."

Maybe I was. I didn't know. "I hope so. Because I kind of need to be really, really good at fighting if I want to keep myself protected from people like Mrs. Dark and Mrs. Black again."

We were both silent for a minute, and I shuddered, remembering the horrible time I'd spent at the Dark House. There was a servant girl there, Miranda, who always told me when I had to go see the Dark Sisters in their room. And the room I had to Change for them in was like a swamp: humid and sticky, with slimy plants and mold growing everywhere. It was awful. Thank God Will had found me when he did.

"Don't worry about them, Tess," Will said firmly, rubbing his stomach. "Besides, you have all of us to protect you until you're strong enough by yourself."

"Thanks." I smiled at him, then noticed that he was still rubbing his stomach, and my jaw stung all of a sudden. "Sorry about your stomach, by the way."

"It'll heal." Will lingered by my door for a second. "And sorry about your jaw. I didn't mean to hit it quite so hard."

I grinned at him, and mimicked, "It'll heal."

Will laughed, and playfully punched my arm. "Tess, did you hear we have to dress up for dinner?"

"No. But. . . damn. I hate dressing up. . . for anything." I decided to emit the part about how I had nothing fancy— if this was the way things worked here, Charlotte had probably remedied that.

"See you in a bit. Be prepared to swoon at my finery." Will smirked, and then he was going back down the hallway.

Okay guys. New fanfic. Thoughts? Requests? Hopefully I'll get some reviews :) (hint hint.) But yeah. This should be a fun one to write! And for those of you waiting for the City of the Fallen update. . . yeah, that'll be up soon. Don't kill me! haha.

So review, follow, favorite! Love it or hate it? Anything I can improve?

I'd put more in the author note, but I'm running off to work on City of the Fallen. So until chapter two of Dark Clarity. . .