Chapter One
William.
Will.
Cecily Herondale sat upright in bed, sweat plastering her raven hair to her neck. She shakily arose from the blankets, her nightgown flowing like an ocean off of her frame. She was tall for a girl of twelve.
She went to the pitcher of water set upon the windowsill, pouring herself a glass of the sugared substance. With shaking breaths, Cecily gulped the liquid. It spilled down her chin. She knew her mother would not approve.
It had been months since she had the nightmare. Her dear, older brother had left their beautiful home in the country of Wales three years ago. She missed him terribly. However, her dreams of him had become less and less frequent; and she had been under the impression that her memories of him were starting to fade, like snow melting off of a roof. Obviously, this was not the case.
She thrust open the window pane, letting the wind kiss her face. Somewhere, out there, Will was residing.
And it was up to her to rescue him.
Now, her father always said her brother had gone to London to become a Shadowhunter. Cecily had learned from Mother that they were beasts, monsters who didn't approve of the marriage between a mundane and one of their kind. Cecily hadn't the slightest what a mundane was, but she decided not to ask. Talk of Shadownhunters was forbidden.
In the past few months, as Cecily's brain cells matured, she had begun to question the cause of her sister's death further. Ella was someone who always had a drive for adventure, a will to explore and chart all kinds of land. Why, she had even read the forbidden books in the library! It didn't seem likely that she died in her sleep.
Something much more sinister was at play.
Of course, she hadn't been allowed to actually see the body. At the fragile age of nine, the sight would have made her frightened. At least, that's what Mother claimed. Cecily had the full knowledge that she would have been fine. Being the youngest in a family meant she was always treated like a child.
What she was about to do, however, was not child-like in the slightest. It would require sacrifice, determination, and some luck.
She was going to go after William.
Cecily had been planning her leave for quite some time, and her nightmare had been the last straw. She could stay at home no longer. Spending another day in the lonesome countryside would kill her. Her brother was the only thing that mattered.
She quickly twisted her hair into a messy chignon, adorning an old tunic along with trousers that had once belonged to Will. It was not proper for a young lady to go out in public alone; and she knew the horrors that could harm her on the road. Perhaps, from a distance, she could be mistaken as a man. That disguise would allow her to slip past others unharmed.
Cecily grabbed a bag from William's chambers- deserted and cold due to his absence. She yearned to have a better memory of him, but all she could recall was his black hair, as dep as shadows, and violet-tinted eyes. They were a direct copy of hers.
Feeling rebellious, she dared to venture into the library; and grab the forbidden books from the shelves. They had spines that showed titles in Latin, Welsh and English along with many other languages she could not identify. She also grabbed the box her father kept under the shelves. An odd stick of metal was resting inside. She vaguely remembered Ella telling her it was called a Stele.
Her sister was punished most severely.