Will and Jem staggered tiredly up the stairs of the old abandoned-looking chuch. The thick fog swirled around them and stuck in their throats and gear, mingling with the demon ichor, slime and mud already on it.
Will got to the door first and yanked at the handle. It didn't open. Jem leaned wearily against the door frame and watched his parabatai curse vehemently at the moisture in the air which was making the door stick just as they wanted to go home. Will struggled with the door for a while longer before he finally managed to force it open.
Inside, the London Institute was warm and dry. It was dim but the witchlight affixed to sconces in the wall flared up when the boys entered. They breathed a sigh of relief.
Jem headed to the stairs that led to the residential area of the Institute. "Will?" he asked when he saw his parabatai fail to follow him.
"You go on, I need a rest first," Will said. Jem shrugged, too tired to argue, and disappeared up the stairs. Will remained in the entryway for a minute, allowing his spent seraph blades to fall carelessly onto the floor. He also undid his weapons belt and dumped it unceremoniously next to the blades.
Thus relieved of the heavy encumbrances, he trudged into the drawing room. It was empty but there was a small fire going in the grate. Will sank into the wingback armchair before it and put his feet up on the ottoman. Mud dripped off his boots, staining the fabric, but he was so exhausted that he could not care less.
It had been a long night for the pair. They began the night simply patrolling and wandering aimlessly, dispatching one or two stray demons and reminding some drunken Downworlders to stay in line. The night waned and the pea soup fog grew thicker, and the boys wanted nothing more than to return to the Institute and snuggle down in their warm beds.
But that was when they noticed the mass of slimy worm-like creatures slithering out of an Underground station. Seeing as this was something out of the ordinary, the boys investigated. The worms followed them and joined the main colony to form a massive Vermithrall demon.
The boys fought hard. It was not easy to kill a Vermithrall demon. Each time they managed to separate some worms from the mass, they simply returned to the main body. They killed many but it seemed like more kept taking their place.
Jem had suggested retreat several times but Will refused. For one thing, he preferred to face this demon than to go back out in the fog; who knew what other monstrosity would be lurking in it.
At last, they had a lucky break when they heard the sound of smashing glass and realised that the demon had knocked over several oil-filled lanterns placed, no doubt, by unlucky maintenance men working in the tunnel just before the demon arrived.
"Strike a match!" Will called to Jem. He held the demon off as his parabatai knelt and pulled a matchbox out of his pocket. "Hurry up!"
There was a swoosh and then a sea of flames rose before them. The demon seemed to forget the boys and was breaking apart into its worm components in an attempt to escape the fire. The boys stomped hard on the worms, killing as many as they could. Then Jem grabbed Will by the arm and dragged him out of the tunnel.
They made it out just in time before a huge explosion sent flames shooting out. The boys were knocked off their feet by the force of it but they managed to escape injury. They looked at each other and decided it was time to call it a night.
Now, Will sat by the small, tame fire in the drawing room and kicked his dirty boots off. They would make a mess on the carpet when they landed but he did not care. He was so comfortable by the fire. He told himself he would sit for a moment before he went to clean up. Just a moment… he told himself as he drifted off to sleep.
It felt like barely 10 minutes before he was shaken awake. He reluctantly forced his eyes open and beheld the grey eyes of Tessa Gray.
"Get up, Will. I have a marvellous idea," she excitedly told him.
"Leave me alone," he groaned. "Go bother someone else." He threw his arm over his face as if by blocking the sight of her she would go away.
It didn't work. "Get up!" Tessa insisted.
There was the sound of footsteps and then Will heard Jem say: "If she dragged me up at the crack of dawn, you can get up too, William."
"It isn't the crack of dawn; it's nearly eight o'clock," Tessa said.
Will turned to look at the window. The shades were pulled back but it was still a uniform grey outside. "The sun's not up," he protested.
"It's the fog. The sun never rose today," Tessa informed him. "I assure you, it's eight o'clock."
Will groaned again and then pulled himself up from his slouch. "Fine, what do you want?" he scowled.
Jem sat in the armchair next to him. His parabatai had washed off the filth of the night before, but it looked like he had dressed hastily. He had dark circles under his eyes and it seemed like he was only half awake.
Tessa, on the other hand, was fully dressed in a cheerful blue dress. She sat on the clean ottoman before Jem. "Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I'd like to celebrate it," she said eagerly. "And I'd like for all of you to celebrate it with me."
"What is Thanksgiving?" Jem asked curiously.
"It's an American festival," Tessa explained. "It started out as a day to mark the harvest festival celebrated by our Pilgrim Fathers. Now, we take it as a day to give thanks for the blessings we have received through the past year, a day to be with friends and… family, and just be thankful."
"That sounds lovely," Jem noted. "Don't you think so, Will?"
"It's a mundane festival. We," Will announced imperiously, "are not mundanes."
"You celebrate Christmas," Tessa pointed out.
"We have a party and exchange presents. We don't celebrate the birth of the baby Jesus," Will clarified.
"Well, then you can do that for Thanksgiving too," Tessa decided. "We can have a party and presents and a turkey feast."
Will perked up a little at the word "presents". "All right then," he conceded. "What do we have to do?"
"Well," Tessa considered. "We have to get food. That's the most important part of Thanksgiving."
"I would have thought giving thanks was the most important part. You mundanes are so queer," Will interrupted.
"You wanted a party, didn't you?" Tessa demanded. "What's a party without food?"
"Presents," Will reminded her. "A party must have presents. I refuse to go to take part in any mundane festival that didn't have presents."
"Very well, I will get you a present," Tessa agreed in exasperation. She took a deep breath and continued: "We need a turkey, and stuffing, and cranberry sauce. Corn, mashed potatoes, rolls and, of course, pumpkin pie and apple pie."
Jem got up then and went to a side table. He opened a drawer and pulled out a pad of paper. "I think I'd better write all that down," he suggested with a small smile.
Tessa stopped her recital, embarrassed at her enthusiasm. "I apologise, Jem, I forgot you don't have Thanksgiving here."
"Don't be. It sounds like fun," Jem assured her. He made her repeat her list, which he wrote down in his neat handwriting. "I'll give this to Bridget. We'll see what we can do to make all this a reality."
Will did not think the smile on Tessa's face could get any wider. But it did, and it brightened up her features, making her look a hundred times more pretty than usual.
"Get up, Will," Jem ordered. "Go take a bath. You're filthy. We have a lot to do if we are going to make this party happen by tomorrow night."