Well, I guess that's about it.
The tingling of her bag's straps and zippers was a somewhat comforting companion as she walked purposefully down the sidewalk, hand in her dark green hoodie and earphones on. She shut her phone and shoved it into her pocket, turning the volume up.
She tried to forget that her inbox was empty of messages, most important of which should be from her father about how the parent-teacher went. Her younger brother was safe at home, and sometimes she thought he didn't cause enough trouble for his age.
She was approaching a couple teenagers huddled together, looking intimidating and seeming to be up to no good. One of them hooted at a girl passing by. Covertly, her eye was caught by the flame of the lighter one of them was playing with; he looked her way and she quickly averted her gaze. A few other teenagers idled along the walk, some of them glancing at her and looking away, disinterested.
She shrugged her backpack tighter, speeding up her pace, boarded the crowded train when she reached the station, and waited patiently for her stop. She wanted already to retreat to her small little world of steles and iratzes.
Except it wasn't too small. Once again she gazed with awe at the towering cathedral in front of her, with its spires and Victorian architecture. She liked these pleasant sights, wondered if she could put them on paper.
The door opened noisily to reveal a lovely girl her senior, dark curls dangling down her bun.
"Oh, Mare!" She regarded her with recognition. "Clary's just inside."
She skittered off on her way, leaving the door open for her.
Once again she marveled at Isabelle's otherworldly beauty, which was as she saw it. This institute is filled with otherworldly people, Mare thought as the elevator rattled. Then again, she wasn't exactly ordinary, either.
Her prized Vans lightly padded along the carpeted floor. She always thought that she didn't want to disturb the tranquility and the magic that she thought was dormant in this place. More than once had she strolled silently in her stay here when she caught a glimpse of their arsenal of enchanted weaponry, rows of shelves illuminated by a single witchlight in their library, everyday animals like Church nonchalantly strolling lazily up a wall.
She could feel another spectacle coming on as she slowed her pace at the sight of rays of light coming from the practice room. She peeked in.
It's that brother and sister again.
Again she watched them carefully in their regular practice session, as they both tried different weapons, both showing considerable skill. She looked at the way they moved, as if they were just a little bit too familiar with each other. They didn't seem to realize that they were acting in that certain way.
There were only a few rays of light illuminating the area, both of them content in what daylight seeped through the scant openings.
In the dim light the siblings looked almost as if in a painting. The girl was of a slight beauty that was independent of attention; the boy's was of an angel. A fallen angel, Mare mused, poetic. A fallen angel and his bride.
Just when she was thinking that she didn't want to interrupt them, a hand fell heavily on her shoulder. Looking up, it was the curious and flashy Magnus Bane.
"Sorry to interrupt you two," he bellowed across the considerable area. "Clary, your lesson's here."
She looked at him weirdly. "You mean my student." She turned to her with a reassuring smile. "Mare, come on over."
She shuffled on, her eyes already on the clump of steles alongside Clary's belongings on the floor.
"I swear, the poor girl couldn't come in," Magnus said dramatically. "Though I couldn't blame her, what with the sight of you two together."
Jace shot him an imperious glance, saying, "You don't seem to have any trouble butting in, on the other hand." Then suddenly moody, he stalked off out the door, shoving a spear and a sword onto its stand on his way.
Clary gave Magnus a reproving look. "You don't need to put in any innuendo," she said. "Jace and I are still trying to get used to each other."
"Well you're getting worse at it if you ask me." Mare stared at him, marveling at his cheek. He caught her stare and winked at her before turning on his heel and sauntered towards the door. "Have a good time, Mare dear."
"I swear, I can see why they assigned you," Clary said. "You really catch on to my runes pretty quick." Magnus wasn't lying when he said Mare was the best in runes among the rookie Shadowhunters.
Mare covered her eyes when a rune she drew glowed so bright then slowly lost its glow as the parts of a shattered glass figurine came back together again. She stared. It was a beautiful rune.
"What did you say was your inclination again?" Clary asked. "Sketching, wasn't it?"
Mare nodded. "Everything else still needs some work though, especially my painting."
"Another artist," Clary said, with a sort of pride in her voice.
"Miss Clarissa – Morgenstern," Mare mouthed.
"I told you to call me Clary."
"Um, Clary," Mare began. "I was wondering – if you don't mind me asking – when do I learn the rune that shatters the glass?"
Clary stared at her.
"Well, I'm just curious. Am I going to be taught some destructive runes anytime soon?"
"These runes are advanced," Clary said. "It actually takes a lot more skill to perform a rune that puts something back together again, as opposed to one that shatters something."
"Yes, but –"
"You won't be taught that until later."
Jace was standing at the doorway, his hair gloriously ruffled. "Be glad you're even being allowed to execute runes. Rookies like you are usually just given preparatories first. Don't get any funny ideas."
"Jace."
Jace held Mare's gaze his look on her serious. "And if you execute them illicitly, it'll be a call for people whose job it is to deal with you. People like me," Jace said and tilted his head a bit. "So don't think of getting into any trouble."
He smiled charmingly. "Anyway, I just came to tell your session's about over."
On the way home Mare thought broodingly of the elusive runes. She wasn't even allowed to bring a stele home. Mare kept an eye on every dark corner that she passed, checked that her shadow was alone under the streetlight. There also weren't exactly many Shadowhunters in her neighborhood that she could consult, not anyone that she knew of.
Her mind drifted to the library, wondering if she could sneak a look on a couple books on runes. The place wasn't guarded, and she wasn't even prohibited from going in there.
Runes are learned from others or from a single, special book.
For a moment she envied Clary, who she thought of as an unlimited fountain of runes.
The streetlight above her head flickered and she checked her periphery. She quickened her pace. She'd learned a couple of protective runes and had been applying them before going home from the Institute, but she wanted more.
A rune that can more than repel. One that can push away. Obliterate. Destroy.
She stuck the spare key into the front door and let herself in. Her brother was seated still by the door.
"Maechen. Is Daddy home?"
Maechen nodded and hugged her, wouldn't let go even as she started slowly walking.
"Dad?"
She didn't bother turning on the lights in the corridor; she liked saving electricity. She approached the light in the kitchen.
Her father was sitting on their small dining table, looking tired. Many times he gave the impression that he was fragile; this was one of them.
"You all right? Luke?" She put a hand on his shoulder. She'd resolved to call him Dad when Luke took her and Maechen in after her encounters with the Clave and her building connection with Clary and the others. He'd practically adopted them.
His face seemed gaunt under the slightly yellow lighting.
"Oh – welcome home, tyke." He took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "That hot choco's for you, I think it's gotten cold though."
"How was the parent-teacher?" Mare asked as she heated the hot chocolate.
"Well, it was surprisingly ordinary," Luke replied, taking a sip of his own drink. "As long as you pay the bills the teachers don't really have any other problem with Maech."
Mare scrutinized his collarbone as he spoke.
"You've got a lot of bruises again." Luke muttered an oath and drew up his collar and tried to hide the bandages. "It's the demons, isn't it."
Later in her room with her textbook open, Mare paused, her expression turning sour at the thought of the multitudes of demons still pouring out from portals that Valentine had started to open to weaken their forces.
Mare's expression morphed into one of hurt as she thought of how Luke always wanted to hide the bruises he got from his job from her, how he tried to juggle the family he started and his duties as leader of a wolf pack. She thought of how Maechen hadn't displayed any magical abilities yet and how she always wanted to keep watch over him. She wanted to take away all the threats to her new family. Finally she looked at her own fears and apprehensions and longed to put an end to them.
She put down her pen and put a hold on the practice problems she was doing, sensing the quiet inside and outside her room, and Luke's occasional snore. Carefully, she drew up a loose floorboard under her table and took out a worn, faintly shimmering thing resembling a penknife.
She found it in the remains of a demon-slaying last year when her Sight was beginning to surface and she had since marveled at it and called it her own – her own stele.