Indigo broke into a run at the end of the hallway containing the training room and headed for the residential wings, rudely refusing to answer the greetings of her teachers she met on the way.
Fuming, she went up several flights of stairs and straight to her bedroom door, half kicking it open when the lock stuck, and slammed the door behind her.
Frustrated, with absolutely no clue why, Indigo clenched her fists and let out a growl. She violently ripped the elastic off her head, her thick auburn hair flowing around her shoulders to her waist.
She clenched her hair into fists and wound it around her eyes, forming a sort of curtain around her face.
Why was she so angry? Levi had done nothing wrong. Poor him, his only fault was being an excellent fighter, and she had left him standing there, friendless.
Friendless.
That was what she was. She had screwed up any chance she had of being his friend over a moment of savage pride. What was wrong with her?
She resolved to apologize for her childish behavior in the morning and with that settled, she opened her bedroom window and looked moodily outside.
She was several stories up, but uneager to meet anyone outside who might have witnessed her episode in the training room, she decided to escape the institute another way.
There was no trellis that could serve as a ladder on the side of the great church. Neither were there stepping stones of any sort on the exterior.
Touching the equilibrium rune behind her ear which gave her perfect balance, Indigo reached for her stele in her pocket and carefully drew an agility mark on her forearm hoping that it'd be enough for what she was about to do.
Her fingers found a pair of leather gloves in her back pocket and she promptly wrestled them out. Fingerless, as they were, she had nothing else. But for this task, she drew a strengthening rune over the tough hide hoping it'd work.
Stepping onto the windowsill, she lightly stepped off it and twisted her body at the last moment so she clung by her fingers on the sill.
Her head felt light, and she was giddy with the slight guilt that came with the knowledge that she was deliberately cutting class. She had done it before, everyone did once in a while. The teachers didn't mind, really, as long as it wasn't noticeably frequent and disrupted the rate at which they were expected to learn. She was seventeen. Her formal training was nearly over, anyways. And she was the best.
What could they do?
She let her fingers release the edge of her window and she slid hand over hand down the side, nothing to slow her fall except the slight friction of the stone wall against her hands and the balls of her feet.
Feeling the callused edges of her fingertips rip open, Indigo winced. After several seconds, she landed lightly on her feet, still facing the Institute and let out a breath of relief.
Then she felt a large hand on her shoulder and groaned.
"What exactly do you think you're doing, young lady."
The voice of Marcus Branwell sounded low and dangerous. She turned around slowly to see her teacher staring furiously at her. His eyes flickered down to her mutilated fingertips and his eyes widened with anger.
"I see you're determined to kill yourself." he said in the same voice. "In the process, losing several fingers as well."
He leaned down to grab her hand, and took a stele out of his own coat pocket, outlining an iratze on her left wrist.
Lips tightening with the sting, Indigo said nothing.
"What do you have to say for yourself, Indigo? Never in the 25 years of my life have I seen any shadowhunter attempt what you have just done. There is a front door, you realize, as I see that you are so bent on skipping my lesson this afternoon."
The guilt in her stomach twisted unpleasantly but she continued to be silent.
"Indigo Blackrose," Marcus enunciated his words very slowly and his grip on her wrist grew tighter. "What do you have to say?"
"Am I allowed to plead the fifth?" she muttered under her breath.
But Marcus had heard her. His grip on her wrist loosened and his voice became gentle although somewhat sarcastic.
"You are no longer in New York, Indigo. I'm afraid the Constitution doesn't apply here." He heard his student give a soft "huh" of indignation.
"Would you like to join me in my office and we can talk this over civilly? Over a cup of hot tea perhaps?" he asked.
She raised her eyes. "Are we not being civil now?"
"No," he replied evenly. "As I recall, you just performed a feat I had previously believed only ably executed as a monkey. Clearly I stand corrected."
He turned his back on her and began to lead her inside the institute but not before Indigo caught a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Rubbing her raw fingers against the fabric of her sweater, she followed him under the arching entrance.