Clary Fairchild: When I was a kid, I had this recurring nightmare. It was terrifying. I would wake up screaming. My mom thought if I drew what I was seeing, it would help me deal with it.

Jace Herondale: You dreamt of a boy in a burning tower.

Clary Fairchild: There was this evil queen that kept her prince locked in a burning tower, so that he could never love anyone but her. And I was the princess that was supposed to rescue him. Every time, I would climb that tower, and just as I'd reach the top... I would fall. I never made it to the top. I couldn't rescue him. I... I can still hear his screams. It was him. The prince was Jonathan. Maybe... Maybe I was supposed to save him. But I didn't. I couldn't...

Jace Herondale: Clary, hey. Even if this was a message from the angels... you were just a kid.

Clary Fairchild: Yeah, but if I had known, if I could've saved him, then... maybe-maybe he wouldn't be who he is today.

Jace Herondale: No. It was already too late. You couldn't have changed him. You still can't. Jonathan is who he is.