Jace worked mostly in silence alongside his brother and sister,glances were shared between them occasionally. Isabelleâs full of questions and Alecâs full of suspicion. A crowd of curious rebels had started gathering about the doorways, but one lingering, dangerous glare from the Prophet had soon dispersed them all.Â
The three were an efficient team through practice, the duties of bandage and supplies preparation, wound cleaning, stitching where needed, and binding were passed from one to the other smoothly, only quiet utterances of each otherâs names needed every so often. The overall effect was one of non-stop movement, and a quietude that could be either reassuring or nerve-wracking.Â
It was just over two hours later later that the three had stopped their movements, Isabelle standing next to Jace, who was leaning forwards on the table, and Alec on the other side, his arms crossed. Jace was thankful that the girl had lost as much blood as she had, being conscious during these procedures would have been hell for her, and something he hated witnessing.Â
Jace shoved off the table and summoned a boy only a few years his younger, one of the curious ones that had refused to really leave, instructing the youth to take a friend and bring one of the infirmary cots to the room. The structures didnât look the most sturdy, but he knew from experience that they could quite effortlessly hold a personâs entirety without so much as a creak.Â
Once the almost identical looking boys had arrived, and he took the cot with the help of Alec, it was placed off to a corner. The large room had makeshift partitions placed sporadically where groups of friends would congregate separately, in this case they acted as a form of privacy. The girl wasnât strong enough to be moved yet, not until tomorrow. Jace sighed, and dragged over one the chairs that had been mindlessly pushed away in the initial rush. He fell into it, looking over to his adopted siblings.Â
âI know you have questions, but they can wait until tomorrow.â He said, weariness leeching into his tone. Alec started to protest, and Isabelle joined him, but Jace silenced the both with a raised voice.
 âEnough! Weâll discuss this tomorrow.â He said firmly, staring them both down. He scrubbed his hands over his face as the two stalked out in their own ways. He slid down in the chair, staring at the blonde for a minute or two, before his eyes started to close and sleep drew him in. It didnât matter if it was daylight; down in the Catacombs night was perpetual, and sleep came when you needed it, rather than when you wanted it.Â
She felt like death. There was no other way to describe the dead feeling in her limbs that made them far too heavy to move, and it didnât seem that there was much other option either. Though, she herself had questions. If she was feeling it meant that she wasnât dead. Dead meant that feeling was gone completely and hers was all but gone.Â
How long sheâd been out she had no idea but she was going to wake up, and ask questions now. She moved to sit up and a sharp gasp left her, along with the dead feeling of her arms and legs a splintering pain wracked through her body from her abdomen, and she fell back onto the table, earning herself a headache as well.Â
Pale, chapped lips bit back a curse of pain, and she repositioned herself to look at the figure beside the bed. The Prophet, the rebel leader that should never have saved someone like her, someone so close to the enemy. Did he even realize who she was? She doubted, and she could only imagine the fury that would exude from him.Â
She sat up wiping blood away from her nose, damn nose bleeds, sheâd had them her entire life. No doubt they were some how connected to her father and something heâd done, but sheâd never said anything, they were just so normal now.Â
âAre you awake?âHer voice was a hoarse whisper, she doubted it. It didnât seem like he was even half close to awake. She sighed, her eyes trailing over the walls of the catacombs, of the room that they now sat in.
