Clary, come home!
Clary groaned as he gradually regained consciousness. He had a splitting headache, and little memory of why he had such a headache.
However, when he saw where he was, the memories came rushing back to him. Queen Horn had been missing for several hours when a report came from one of his soldiers. Queen Horn had been spotted crucified atop the highest spire of the Hameln castle. Not wanting to waste any time, he had gathered a small squad of troops to accompany him to check out the situation.
Upon arriving at the Hameln castle, Clary saw that someone had indeed been crucified atop one of the spires. Sending the rest of his soldiers to gather the entire army and provide a distraction, Clary sneaked into the Hamelin castle and made his way up to the tower that lead to the spire. Seemingly unnoticed, he climbed up the spire onto the balcony in which the huge cross had been erected.
From the distance he had been standing, Clary was sure that the one on the cross was not Queen Horn. Whoever it was, she needed to be rescued! With that thought, Clary climbed onto the platform in which the crucifix had been erected and started to until the ropes that bound the girl's wrists to the wooden cross. However, her cold flesh and dead eyes made it evident that it was too late to save the girl.
With a shake of his head, Clary had started to descend the stairs of the platform when a bolt of magic struck him squarely in the chest. Too late, he realized that it had been a trap. And as he had sunk into unconsciousness, Clary realized that he had been caught.
And now, he was in one of the many cells in the Hamelin dungeon, awaiting an uncertain fate. Trying to ignore how dizzy and sick he felt, he sat up and glanced at his surroundings. He was surrounded by cold stone walls on three sides, and a set of bars serving as the fourth wall. A pile of bones stood in one corner, remnants of the last visitor.
Cold sweat broke out on Clary's face and he began to tremble with chills. It was growing increasingly obvious that he had caught some sort of illness, yet he could not figure out what it was! With a sigh, he wrapped his cloak around him and thanked the gods that he had thought to bring it. He lay back down upon the shelf that served as his bed and resolved to rest. He needed to collect his strength, if he wanted to be able to attempt an escape!
"If I might ask, wise and all-powerful Lord Bass, why has the prisoner been spared?" Guita asked uneasily as he, Saiza and the Hell King watched Clary curl up and try to sleep.
"He can be of use to me. The spell that I cast upon him earlier is a potent illness, designed to changed the personality of its victims. Clary's allegiances will soon be shifted by the illness, and he shall serve me."
"How much time will this illness take?" Saiza put in.
"It will take its effect soon," bass said as he eyes his prisoner. "Very soon."