[ That’s more than he was expecting. He hadn’t pushed her, though. He’d just let her talk, and she’d come out with this, so maybe she had needed to say it. At any rate it makes a line appear between his brows. He comes over to her, sitting beside her, and taking her hands without even thinking about it. ]

Clary, look at me. You have not failed her. You’re going to keep it secret, and safe, and when you return home you will use it to save your mother.

[ He says that gently and firmly, like it’s a fact and not just a hope. Sturmhond is a realist. He knows there’s a very real possibility that Clary won’t be able to do what she wants, that it might be too late or that there could be other obstacles in her way that she doesn’t even know about yet. But she’s here. She can’t address those problems yet, and thus she needs to keep herself focused on what she can change. Not on what she can’t. It’s a problem he knows very well. Hope is not a meaningless thing. People need it to keep themselves going. Hope is not worth trusting, but it’s certainly worth using. Especially as a motivator. ]

If her condition is due to a drug she took, there will be an antidote. It seems like magic, but it’s not. The Grisha of my world, they don’t call their power magic, because there are rules and dependencies attached to it. They call it the Small Science. That’s what this is. What took her away can bring her back again.

When it does, then you can ask her your questions. Including why she hid this life from you. Sometimes, Clary, a lie tastes better, and goes down easier, than the truth.

[ He says sometimes. But it’s always, really, at least in his experience. The truth is always that much harder to bear. ]