Prologue
I walked down the busy streets of London, taking opportunity of the shadow provided by the trees, lining the side of the street that wasn't covered by shops, by staying as much hidden in them as possible. No one really seemed to notice me going by, but I pulled the hood further over my face anyway, just as a precaution.
It was becoming dangerous walking alone on the streets day by day. And even more than that, trying to hide all the time was the most frustrating thing ever.
I shook my head at myself disapprovingly, I knew it was all for my own good. Well, who didn't want to stay alive?
Moving through the bustling crowd patiently, swiftly, in a while I found myself standing in front of the shop I had come here for. It was a well built, stable shop. It was not bigger than my room back at our small home, but even worse, it looked so worn out and destroyed. Well, age does that to everything, doesn't it?
I walked into the small shop, my steps would have sounded abnormally quiet to anyone passing by too closely. There was no hustle around this one particular shop, nor was anyone going inside except for me.
I pushed aside the curtains lightly (There wasn't even a door at the entrance), peering inside the small room. It was just as worn out from the inside as it was from the outside. Every time I came here, I couldn't help the chills.
Nor could I help the chills every time I saw the woman that was now standing behind a large table, which covered half the space in the room, in the middle of the room.
She was leaning over the table, her long black hair effortlessly pulled back into a careless braid, that didn't keep the hair back anyway. If I got a chance to steal anything from this woman, I would steal her hair. And maybe her beautiful green, cat like eyes too.
She was looking closely into an awfully thick book, a dozen candles placed around the table. I knew very well that she didn't like interruption when she was doing something like this, but it wasn't like I could care less.
I cleared my throat, in order to get her attention, but she just waved her hand, telling me to come inside.
"I'm old enough to sense you're here, even if you don't make a sound" Catarina said, at last looking up from the book at me.
What she said would've sounded terribly weird to anyone else, because Catarina was all beautiful, with no wrinkles on her face or dark circles under her eyes. She was lean and slim, her body had the most perfect curves, and obviously, her hair was totallyblack.
She hardly looked 18, yet she wasn't.
"When you keep staring at me" She said, "It creeps even my immortal soul out"
Immortal.That's what she was. All Warlocks were.
"I'm sorry" I said quietly and moved inside the small room, "What spell are you trying now?"
"Theresa" Catarina smiled, the smile that would make anyone want to sleep with her in an instant, "Always curious. I like that about you."
Theresa. Only Catarina called me that. Normally, people called me Tessa. Not that many people knew me, still I preferred Tessa more. I tried to correct her sometimes, but she just seemed to like Theresa more. Typical, ancient-three-hundred-year-old woman.
"I'm just trying to pass my time. Trying to light all these quicker than I already can"-Which is 0.05 seconds for a dozen candles, why on earth did I know that?-" That's all we immortals can do with our useless lives" She sighed. "To what do I really owe the pleasure of your visit, Theresa?"
"I wanted the black book" I said as confidently as I could.
"Now, now. What does a little girl have to do with the black book?" She smiled, but it really wasn't a real one, "Those spells aren't something you can play with. Most of them are mild ones, but if anything goes wrong, everything goes wrong."
"I'm not a little girl. I'm 16." I sounded more offended than I actually was. I was used to her calling me littlegirlall the time, but I couldn't help saying that.
"Well, then you're a verylittle girl for me" She chuckled, "But I'll give you the book. I guess I can trust you enough. But I need you to promise me to return the book as soon as you're done"
"Okay, I will." I said. She smiled at me again and then walked towards the large, worn out bookshelf which was pushed against the opposite wall. Even the way she walked was so elegant that no mortal could depict it.
Maybe I'd walk like that one day. A century or two later, I don't know how long it will take me to become like Catarina. How long it would take me to do the spells that Catarina did so easily like they were nothing. Or even if I could live that long...
Catarina tried to find the book for a while, and then pulled out a thick book, with a black leather covering. Its pages were yellowed, age did that. She patted the book to shake off the dust and then came and stood in front of me. She handed me the book gently, and I held it with the same gentleness. This was more precious than anything else.
She didn't look much older than me, but we still had a difference of almost two and a half centuries between us. I had known Catarina since I was 3, and since then I've seen myself grow while she still remained the same as she was 13 years ago.
She now smiled down at me.
"I know you can do most of these spells perfectly well, Theresa" I thought she meant to be encouraging.
"Not as well as you" I said, stating the fact. She frowned.
"Not now. But you can do better than me in much less time than it took me to master all of it." She then smiled again, "You know you're special"
Special.Everyone kept calling me that. I couldn't help the frustration.
"Blood doesn't matter. It's one's ability that matters." My voice was flat. I was good at hiding the jealousy, but I couldn't say that Catarina didn't see it at all.
"You won't understand. Not yet." She then walked back behind the large table and rested her hands on the table, then looked at me again, "I hope you're being careful. And I hope you've been taking care of Elizabeth too."
I nodded. Of course I was. My mom was the only family I had.
"I can't believe how ruthlessly they're killing warlocks every day. It drives me crazy. It's almost every day I hear that a warlock was killed," There was genuine pain in her voice, "and every time, I'm scared for the people I love. For the one's I care about."
"I know" I sighed, because I did know. That was why all of us were hiding. Expecting danger around every corner was what we had to live with. I could feel the hilt of the dagger that was tugged under my cloak. It wasn't really that reassuring, the ones who died probably had these too.
My hands automatically moved to the necklace around my neck. It was made out of clockwork, shaped like an angel. It had been ticking since the last 5 decades, my mom had told me, without any batteries. I had loved the soft tick of the pendant around my neck when mom had given it to me, at 4. But it had stopped working after two years. I still wore it anyway, and I still reached out to touch it, to be reassured it was still there.
"But most of all, Theresa" Catarina said now, still standing behind the table, "I want youto be safe. Scratch that, every warlock on the planet wants you to be safe"
"They probably don't know about me" I couldn't decide if my saying theyinstead of naming them was out of fear or anger.
"They, dear Theresa, are Shadowhunters" Hearing their name made me shudder anyway, "They know everything."
"They don'tknow about me, Catarina. If they did, they would've killed me already"
"Because you're a badass little warlock, and you can kick their asses-"
"Yeah, yeah. Say whatever you want. I know I can't do that" I smiled despite myself.
"You can" Samantha was serious now, "You just still need to discover what's hidden inside you. You know that as well as me that you're notlikeme.Or any other warlock out there. You're different, you're better. And you've still got eternity to explore yourself. And you know I'm always here for you."
Sometimes I thought it was unfair that she was so nice to me and I was not.
But she made it look like the whole world was putting its trust inme. It felt like she was handing over this responsibility to me that I wasn't ready for. Which made me feel tired. And angry. And sad.
"I think I should go, mom must be waiting" I tried to say as politely as I could without spitting.
"Yes, Theresa. You should." She smiled, "I'm herefor you." She repeated.
I just nodded, which was all the goodbye I could managed to offer her as I walked out of the small room. I knew people would instantly creep out if they saw me coming out of thin air, because Samantha's shop was warded. Invisible to mortal eyes. Only warlocks could see or enter it.
I went back to the shade of the trees and walked down the same street back to my house. It was one of the chilly afternoons that indicated winter wasn't very much far away. I was already wrapping my cloak tighter around my body.
I hadn't told Catarina.
I hadn't told her how mom, out of nowhere, wanted me to rush to Catarina and bring this book with me. She looked frantic, and panicked. I couldn't make sense out of anything, but I went anyway. Not telling Catarina about it was what mom had repeated almost a hundred times.
In a while, I was standing in front of my small house. It would've definitely looked too small to anyone else, but it seemed too big for just mom and me.
It was even darker now than before. And I wasn't looking at anything but the door to my house that was wide open.
Panic rushed through me and it was an effort to move my feet, but I ran as fast as I could, inside the house and stopped.
"Mom!" I shouted, but there was no response. Mom was not here.
I jogged towards her room, panic rising with every step I took, holding the book tighter to my chest. I opened the door, expecting to see mom sitting on the bed, sewing new clothes for me. Or maybe cleaning stuff like she was always doing. Or maybe reading another one of her old books. Or she might be just looking at her old pictures. But what I saw wasn't something I had expected.
"MOM!" It came out half as a yell, half as a sob.
My mother was sprawled over the bed, a dagger protruding from her chest, and everywhere I saw, there was blood. On the bed, on the floor, on mymother.I shook my head, trying to shake off the image. Trying to wake myself up if I was dreaming.
I limped towards the bed, not sure I could stand anymore. Warlocks couldn't die this easily, they could heal. They had magic. But a dagger into the heart wasn't something anyone could heal.
My eyes were blurry with tears as I sat beside mom, not caring how bloody the mattress was. She was my only family, the only person I cared for. My hand reached ahead to cover hers, and I squeezed it tightly. I allowed myself to sob. And it was painful.
But I stopped when I heard her sigh. When I felt her hands move beneath mine. My eyes widened as I saw her eyes flutter weakly.
"Mom? Mom, listen to me." I said, as I touched her face lightly.
"Tessa... My baby" She smiled weakly, "I don't have... have enough time. Please... I-I want you closer to me"
I immediately hugged her, trying to learn how it felt. How I could still smell her familiar scent over the tang of blood. I knew she couldn't hug me back. I let out another sob.
"I'm s-so... Sorry" Mom breathed out.
"Shhh"
"No... Don't. I need to tell... you something." She coughed weakly and I held her even more tightly.
"You'll be fine" I sobbed, "I'm going to kill them. I'm going to kill them all."
"Don't... Don't let go of the black... Black book" She coughed again and I sobbed harder.
"I won't" I promised.
"Leave... Th-this place. Go.. Somewhere safe" Her voice was more faded now.
"I will." I said quietly.
"Tessa" She said it so painfully that I moved away to look at her. She was pale, so pale that it justified there was almost no blood left in her. No mortal would've been alive till now. But now her chest was heaving unevenly too, her lungs struggling to get more oxygen.
I wasn't ready to let go of her yet. Iwasn'tready.
"His.. " Mom said breathlessly, "His name... Is Will" and then she smiled weakly at me as her chest stopped heaving and her eyes closed. Her lips were still smiling when her soul left her body. I held the corpse of my mother tightly, and I wasn't sure when I was letting go of her.
I pulled the dagger out of her chest and let it fall down on the floor. Then I kissed her forehead and stood up. The book was still tucked in my cloak. The dagger still where it was. My hands reached over to the clockwork angel around my throat, but it still wasn't ticking.
I let myself fall down on the cold floor, and curl up into the corner of the room. Even then, her last words kept echoing in my mind, and I had no idea why.
HisnameisWill.