The Fiery Trial Read Online Free PDF

twice about that. And I’m amazing.”
    “Why do you have to get involved in everything?” Simon asked.
    “I go where Clary goes.”
    The two bodies drifted on.
    “So do I,” Simon said. And he jumped off the right side of the boat, holding his nose. No diving. No need for theatrics. Jumping was enough, and at least it would keep him upright.
    The pain of the water was even worse than he thought. It was like jumping through glass. The icy cold crackled all over his body, forcing all the air from his lungs. He reached for the boat but it drifted off, with Jace at the tail, waving. Simon’s clothes were pulling him under, but he had to fight. Hard as it was to move his arms, he stretched out to try to swim. His muscles contracted, unable to function at this temperature.
    None of them could survive this. And this did not feel like a dream. Being in this water, which was pulling harder now, pulling him down—this was as good as being dead. But something crackled into his mind, some knowledge that had been well, well pushed away. He had known what it was like to be dead. He had had to claw his way out of the ground. He’d had soil in his eyes and in his mouth. The girl, Maureen, she was dead. Clary was not. He knew this because his own heart was still beating—erratically, but still beating.
    Clary.
    He reached out again and struggled with the water. One stroke.
    Clary.
    Two strokes. Two strokes were ridiculous. The water was faster and stronger and his limbs were shaking and so heavy. He started to feel sleepy.
    “You can’t give up now,” said Jace. The boat had circled around and was now on Simon’s right side, just out of reach. “Tell me what you know.”
    Simon was not in the mood to be quizzed. The river and the earth itself were pulling him down.
    “Tell me what you know,” Jace insisted.
    “I . . . I . . .”
    Simon couldn’t make words.
    “Tell me!”
    “C . . . C . . . Clar . . .”
    “Clary. And what do you know about her?”
    Simon definitely couldn’t speak anymore. But he knew the answer. He would go to her. Alive. Dead. Fighting the river. Even if his dead body drifted alongside hers, that would somehow have to be enough. The knowledge caused his body to warm, just a bit. He kicked against the water.
    “There you go!” said Jace. “Now you’re getting it. Now, you go.”
    Simon’s entire body shuddered violently. His face dipped below the surface for a moment and he took on water, which burned him from the inside. He pushed out again, spat it out.
    One stroke. Two. Three. It wasn’t as futile now. He was swimming. Four. Five. He counted them off. Six. Seven.
    “I know the feeling,” Jace said, drifting alongside him. “It’s hard to explain. They don’t make greeting cards for it.”
    Eight. Nine.
    The city began to light up. Starting at the ground level, the lights appeared, reaching up toward the sky.
    “When you realize it,” Jace said, “you know that you can do anything, because you have to. Because it’s you. You’re one.”
    Ten. Eleven.
    No need to count now. Jace and the swan were lagging behind, and now he was alone, swimming on, his body pumping with adrenaline. He turned to look for Maureen, but she was gone. Clary, however, was still clearly visible, floating just ahead. Not floating.
    Swimming. Toward him. She was doing exactly what he was doing, forcing her body on, shuddering, pushing through the water.
    Simon powered through the last strokes and felt the touch of her hand. He would go—he would go with her. And she was smiling, her lips blue.
    And then he felt the ground under him—some surface under the water, something just a foot or two down. Clary reacted at the same moment, and they both grabbed at each other and struggled to their feet. They were standing in the Bethesda Fountain, the angel statue looking down on them, pouring water on their heads.
    “Y . . . you . . . ,” Clary said.
    Simon didn’t try to speak. He embraced her,