Thank you so much for picking my story to read! It pales in comparison with Lady Midnight (have you guys read it yet? isn't it awesome?) but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I'll update weekly. Please review! :D
To set the scene: Summer, 1876, London
1.
"Terror In Twickenham!" screamed the cover of The Inquirer that Will Herondale was perusing at the newsstand. Underneath, in smaller letters, it explained: "Mrs Molly Richmond recalls night of horror when a monster invaded her garden. 'He was right there, standing among my hydrangeas,' says Mrs Richmond." To finish off the cover was a sketch of a trembling Mrs Richmond, wearing a checked dress and apron, and pointing to a flattened patch of shrubs.
"Are you ready to go, Will?" Jem Carstairs asked, tucking a copy of the respectable The Times under his arm.
Will looked up at his parabatai and grinned. "Sure. I will get this," he said, indicating the magazine that still lay open in his hands. Jem shook his head indulgently and paid the news agent for the two publications.
Since Will had his nose buried deep in the lurid tales that the magazine promoted, Jem had to grab him by the elbow and guide him along, carefully navigating the crowd that bustled around them. It was a rare sunny day in London and, like the boys, most people seemed to be taking advantage of the good weather to go out of doors.
Jem pulled Will across the street, dodging carriages and horses, to get to the quieter surrounds of Hyde Park. The park was just as crowded as usual, but at least there were no merchants loudly hawking their wares and rudely pushing various trinkets into one's face in the hopes of enticing a customer. Here, a man quietly pushed around a cart offering tea, lemonade and ginger ale, while a young girl discreetly carried baskets of flowers for sale. It was the picture of gentility.
The boys found a spot under a tree that had not been claimed by picnickers and sat down. Will was still deep in his magazine, so Jem opened his newspaper and browsed. There were editorials about the dangers of electric lighting and news about the enhancement of the recently invented telephone system and underground train systems. There was nothing, however, which would be of interest or relevance to a Shadowhunter.
Jem gave up and folded up his newspaper, laying it carefully to the side. He stretched out his legs and leaned against the tree, indulging in a little people-watching. With his Nephilim eyes, he also spotted a few small pixies frolicking near a bush. They were a little too close to a mundane couple, but as long as they ventured no closer, Jem decided he would leave them be.
After some time, he grew bored of people-watching. He turned to Will. "Anything interesting in that gossip rag, Will?" he asked.
Will looked up in surprise, as though only now realising that they were no longer at the newsstand. "Plenty of interesting things," he replied. "For instance, did you know that Mr Alexander Peel visited the Crystal Palace and foresaw that giants would rise out of the Welsh hills to conquer England? He is, even now, attempting to put together an expedition to kill these giants before they can arrive and wreak havoc and turn England into a wasteland for the Welsh to invade. I might go join them, if Charlotte lets me; I've always been curious about what's in those hills. Or I might strangle Mr Peel for all the insults he's hurling at my beloved country."
Again, Jem shook his head. "Anything in there that has a shred of truth in it?" he rephrased his question.
Will grinned cheekily. "All the stories are true, James," he reminded.
"And some are more true than others," Jem added. "Is there any hint of a demon sighting? I could do with some activity."
"Sitting in the sunshine too dull for you?" Will quipped. "Perhaps you would like to investigate this: Mr Thomas Batty claims that he has found a medium who can truly channel the spirits of the dead and is offering a bag of gold to anyone who can prove otherwise."
"Worse case, a demon is unleashed in that séance. Best, we get a bag of gold," Jem observed sleepily.
"I could do with some gold," Will mused thoughtfully. "I've got a few debts to settle before someone decides they'd rather have some of my fingers instead."
"Oh, William, not again!" Jem exclaimed exasperatedly. "Charlotte has told you repeatedly not to visit those gambling dens."
"Did I say I went to the gambling dens?" Will retorted. "I was referring to my drinks tab and also to the time when I lost the bet that Saucy Marie was wearing lots of padding inside her corset. I was a fool to bet against her in the first place. Trust me, you don't want to get on the wrong side of Saucy Marie."
"Who on earth is Saucy Marie?"
"I forget, you wouldn't know her. You would probably be scandalised to even know about her. Let me tell you, that is one handsome woman," Will reminisced. "Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs, you look like a world, lying surrender. My rough peasant's body digs in you and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth."
Jem grimaced at his recitation. "I find it difficult to believe a single word you say sometimes."
"Really? Which word? Allow me to clarify it for you."
Jem did not deign to reply, for fear of further feeding Will's madness. He reached over and plucked the magazine out of Will's hands. He flipped it open randomly, and his eyes fell on the paragraph where Mrs Richmond was describing the monster that had invaded her garden and destroyed her hydrangeas. "'He looked human, but not like any man I have ever seen. Tall, he was, and green, like a snake from head to toe,' she recounted. 'Even the thought of it makes me shudder. What could he possibly want? Why did he come to me?'
"This reporter can attest that something had indeed visited Mrs Richmond's prize-winning garden that night. With my own hands, I discovered a scrap of dirty cloth among the remains of the hydrangeas. Is this evidence of an other-worldly visitor? The police, as is common in their incompetence, have so far refused to follow up on the night-time intruder…"
The report went on to berate the police and urge the public not to panic and to contact the magazine should anyone have further encounters.
Jem impatiently tossed the magazine back to Will, who caught it deftly despite barely looking up. "I think we would have the best chance of action by attending the séance," Jem decided. "The rest seems like nonsense; pure attention-seeking babble, and hardly worth our time."
"Does this mean I can start making plans for that bag of gold?" Will asked eagerly. Jem grabbed his newspaper and, laughing, pummelled Will with it.