Disclaimer: Seeing that I finally got CoFA, I am obliviously not Cassandra Clare.
Okay, I'm really really happy =) Meet our goal and up! So thanks to all those who reviewed and/or added my story as favorites and/or story alert. Especially if you added me as a favorite author! I forgot to do it for the last chapter too, so thanks to those too!
Chapter 9: Open My Eyes
Clary's Point of View
I saw the same thing in my last dream – the only thing in my vision was the unnatural slivery white rune against a jet black background that still looked like the same rune that made that weird portal thing in my dream. It was still shaped like a door and had a swirl in it that looked like wind blowing toward the left. It was a rather pretty rune, if I do say so myself.
Again, in my dream, I got my stele and drew it onto the door, making it look a portal. This time I didn't need the coaxing whispering to guide me forward; I went there all on my own. I wondered if you could have a dream continue itself. It was rather uncanny.
Also, normally during dreams you don't really think 'oh, it's a dream!' that makes it less…dreamlike somehow. Whatever, I'm still going, I thought to myself, really wanting to see this Will kid again; there was something about him that drew me to him like a month to light.
Going through the weird portal this time wasn't as bizarre as it was the first time. It didn't even hurt that much but the feeling of getting stretched out and smushed back together was relatively annoying.
When I slammed down onto some hard, I looked up, only half surprised to see myself in the same bedroom with the brass bed and no electricity. What is this? The 1800's? I thought sarcastically. It wasn't like me to have dreams about time periods where there was no electricity. Hell, I never had a dream like this – well, excluding the one I had before.
Is it really a dream? A voice whispered in the back of my head. Do dreams continue were they leave off? I had no answer. No, dreams don't continue where you leave off, obviously like this one. Will and Theresa looked just like they did before and continued where it left off like a movie and someone hit the pause button. It was a little behind, as if it make sure I see everything; it was where girl saying her name was Theresa Gray.
Weird, way too weird, I thought. This was impossible. I don't understand how this was happening. At all. What is this? I wanted to cry out. I felt like grabbing fistfuls of my hair and yank all of it out. I was just so confused. And when you have dreams, you don't wonder 'is this a dream', something about that makes it less dreamlike. It even felt all too real.
"Miss Gray," the boy – Will – said, breaking my thoughts. "Come along, then, Miss Gray." He went past her, as graceful as any Shadowhunter, even as elegant as Jace, which was a feat. Then again, they were ancestors. But why, I wondered, did he call her by her last name? That's so…formal. And old-fashioned.
Will moved towards the door, and tried yanking the door open. "It won't work," the girl – Theresa – said. "The door cannot be opened from the inside." Who and what kind of person has this kind of room? I wondered. I was pretty sure that even in the past – I still had no idea what time period this was in – that they wouldn't have rooms like this.
Will grinned ferociously after her comment. He reminded me so much like Jace – no one could ever be as arrogant as them – must run in the family – even if they didn't look alike. "Can't it?" He reached towards his belt and grabbed his stele.
He started drawing the open rune on the door. "You're drawing?" Theresa demanded. I knew she wasn't a Shadowhunter, that much was obvious but I thought that perhaps she was a werewolf or even a warlock but I was pretty sure that she would know by now if she was one since she looked about sixteen. So, that ruled out that she was a Downworlder. Why would a Shadowhunter come to save a mundane? I wondered. A Shadowhunter's job was to kill demons and occasionally save a Downworlder or two. But why did it look like that this girl was purposefully found? And why did he care about her and barge into her room?
Theresa interrupted my wild thoughts. "I don't really see how that can possibly–"
There was a noise like cracking glass. The doorknob spun faster and faster and the door opened, a faint puff of smoke rising from the hinges.
"Now you do," Will said and pocketed the stele while gesturing for Theresa to follow him. "Let's go." Wait, what? Was I suppose to follow them? I mean, I wanted to see what would happen, but could I not go somewhere else? But my dream – or whatever this was – brought me to these people for a reason. Also, I did want to follow them around, mainly due to the fact that Jace's ancestor was here and plus, I wanted to see what would happen and why this mundie was saved and from what. I didn't even know where to go and I didn't really want to get lost anyways.
Enigmatically, Theresa hesitated, looking back toward the room. "My books–" she started. Seriously, that's what she's worried about? Something about this situation suddenly added up in my head and I realized that the girl was being held hostage here. No wonder there wasn't any personal items in the room excluding the books. In the back of my head I wondered why they had given her books if she was a prisoner here, but that wasn't my main thought. But she was honestly worried about those?
I was sure that I would gladly escape from this place even if I was in love with books like her; I mean I like books but this could be a life or death situation. "I'll get you more books," he cut her off, urging her into the corridor ahead of him and I moved in step with her – literally, I was literally in the same space as her, which felt weird, it was like stepping from the hot tub to a cold swimming pool but she didn't even notice, not that I had expected her to. I sort of knew the drill by now.
He pulled the door shut behind them and I was glad that I had followed. I mean, I would have been locked in the room since the door apparently didn't open from the inside. I wasn't even sure if my stele would work in this dream thingy. I wasn't even sure that if I jumped out the window I would be okay and I wasn't planning on find out. I was most definitely not taking my chances.
I had convinced myself that this was actually a dream but what if there wasn't? Could I actually die in this thing? Could I be trapped here forever?
Will grabbing Theresa's wrist shattered me from my thoughts, dragging her down the hallway and around a corner. There were stairs and Will didn't stop, in fact he went faster. He took the stairs two at a time, pulling her after him. I lightly jogged to keep up – not that it was any problem with all my train – with their fast pace probably due to the fact that I had short legs and that their strides were longer. What they were running away from, I did not know. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to know. It had to be something bad if a Shadowhunter was helping a mundie.
From above, I heard a scream that sounded like a women. Theresa's face paled a bit, more than it was before, if possible.
"They've found you missing," Will stated. Who are 'they'? I wondered. What the heck was going on here?
We reached the first landing and Theresa slowed her pace to only be jerked ahead by Will. Poor girl, I thought sympathetically. I remembered when I first started training to be a Shadowhunter and how hard it was for me and this girl wasn't a Shadowhunter or a Downworlder, so it must be exceedingly hard on her. Especially if she was coped up in that room all day, I mean she probably hasn't had exercise in a long time.
"Aren't we going out the front door?" she demanded. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. In this kind of situation, I didn't think that a mundie would really dare to say anything about that. I probably would have been scared out of my mind. I wondered what they did to her. Nothing was visibly showing; no bruises or cuts to show that she was abused by whoever 'they' are. Then why, I wondered, did they want her?
I had to admit, Theresa reminded me of well, myself. I probably would have demanded that too, if I had knew what she did. We both weren't afraid to speak our minds sometimes.
"We can't. The building's surrounded. There's a line of carriages pulled up front." Wait, carriages? This really had to be set in the past if they used carriages. Maybe it really was the 1800's. "I appear to have arrived at an unexpectedly exciting time." Will started down the stairs again and Theresa followed. "Do you know what the Dark Sisters had planned for this evening?" The Dark Sisters, I pondered. This already did not sound good. And it was a woman that I heard, I thought slightly smugly. At least I know that this Dark Sisters was what was after them. But what, an annoying mind asked again in the back of my mind, did they want from her? If they weren't guys and weren't going to…
"No." Her response was slightly curt, sounding like she didn't really want to talk about it. Uh oh, I thought. This can't be good.
"But you were expecting someone called the Magister?" We were in a cellar now, where the walls that seemed to be made out of plaster gave away suddenly to damp stone. It was quite dark in the cellar that's when I realized that it was hot. Really hot.
Especially for London, it wasn't suppose to be this hot. From what I heard of it, it was always cool, damp and rainy. Nevertheless hot air rose to meet us like a wave. "By the Angel, it's like the ninth circle of Hell down here–"
"The ninth circle of Hell is cold," Theresa said, looking like it was automatic.
Will ogled at her. "What?"
"In the Inferno," she told him. "Hell is cold. It's covered in ice." She was right. Despite its name which meant fire in some language that I didn't know but I could guarantee that was old, the Inferno was cold. It was a misnomer, just like Iceland and Greenland. In reality, Iceland was like Greenland and vice versa.
He gawked at her for another long moment, the corners of his mouth twitching into what seemed like a smile that looked similar to Jace's. In fact, Jace's lips often twitched like that before smiling sometimes. Seems like Jace really takes after Will, I reflected. I wondered what would happen if they ever meet each other; I'm pretty sure the world couldn't take it and explode. Seriously.
Then I wondered if Will was in my time period and real. Would I date him? It seemed like a possibility. I mean, if Will is like Jace is so many ways, why wouldn't I? I dated Jace; maybe I would have dated Will too. I smacked myself for thinking that. Of course they are the same! It's my dream and of course the person would be like Jace! He wasn't real; he was just brought up from my imagination, based off Jace.
"Give me the witchlight." Theresa's face went blank. Will made an impatient noise – just like Jace and something Jace would do in the crisis, I observed. My theory was probably right. It's not like she would know since she's just a poor, helpless mundie. "The stone. Give me the stone."
Theresa gave him the stone and the moment his hand closed around it, light blazed from it just like it was suppose to, like a miniature sun trapped in his hands, rays spilling through his fingers.
I spied a rune on the back of his hand, the same inky black that was on my hand. It was shaped like an open eyes. The Sight rune. Nice to know that we still did what they did, I thought since we also have permanent runes on the backs of our hands.
"As for the temperature of Hell, Miss Gray," he said, "let me give you a piece of advice." Oh god, I groaned inwardly. This is exactly what Jace would do. I could tell that it was going to be some stupid advice right now. "The handsome young fellow who's trying to rescue you from a hideous fate is never wrong. Not even if he says the sky is purple and made of hedgehogs." See, I told you so. He's even as arrogant as Jace is. I resisted the urge to punch him – even if it would go through him – and contented myself by rolling my eyes instead.
I glanced at Theresa and I could tell that she thought that Will was mad. "No!" she cried out suddenly, catching Will's arm and pulling him back. "Not that way. There's no way out. It's a dead end."
"Correcting me again, I see." Stupid Will, he would say that. No 'Oh, thanks. If you hadn't told me this, we both would have been dead meat'. However, Will turned and strode the other way, toward a shadowy corridor, despite what he said. I glanced at Theresa, and noticed that she swallowed hard and noticed that she was afraid. I hadn't notice from being around Shadowhunters for a while now – and Simon but he can see in the dark since he's a vampire – that mundies are scared of the dark. I got to admit, it was sort of scary but it was all part of the job. If there was a job description for Shadowinghunting, I'm pretty sure fearless would be on it.
As we walked down the hallway, it narrowed, pressing in on either side. The heat was impossibly intensified here, making my curls plaster onto my face and had turned Theresa's hairs into curls and paste it onto her face and neck too. The air was thick and hard to breath. For a while we – they – walked in silence; I could talk and nothing would happen so I kept my mouth shut.
"Mr. Herondale," Theresa broke the silence. Again, what's with the Mr. and Mrs.? "Did my brother send you to fine me?" So she has a brother, possibly older than her but it seemed like he was always taken care of by her.
Will looked at her curiously. "Never head of your brother," he said and from Theresa's face, I could tell that she was disappointed but knew that that was going to be the answer anyway. "And," added Will, "outside of the past ten minutes, Miss. Gray, I'd never heard of you, either." What? But it looked like she was purposefully found. Well, at least she was save. "I've been following the trail of a dead girl for near on two months. She was murdered, left in an alley to bleed to death. She'd been running from…something." Well, the dead girl lead to Theresa at least. The corridor had reached a forking point, and after a pause Will headed to the left. "There was a dagger beside her, covered in her blood. It had a symbol on it. Two snakes, swallowing each other's tails."
I could see that Theresa looked shaken. "That's the same symbol that's on the outside of the Dark Sisters' carriage – that's what I call them, Mrs. Dark and Mrs. Black, I mean– "
"You're not the only one that calls them that; the other Downworlders do the same," said Will. "I discovered that fact while investigating the symbol. I must have carried that knife through a hundred Downworld haunts, searching for someone who might recognize it. I offered a reward for information. Eventually the name of the Dark Sisters came to my ears." I was confused; Theresa didn't interrupt once to ask about Downworlders. Maybe she wasn't a mundie, perhaps she was a fey disguised in strong glamour. But then again, the fey can't stand iron – which is why the live underground apparently, to get away from the iron –and it was nearly impossible for her to be here right now unless she had strong tolerance which means that she's a strong fey. And if she was a strong enough to have that kind of tolerance against iron then she was strong enough to break herself out. So her being fey is ruled out.
"Downworld?" Theresa echoed, clearly mystified. Ah hah! I thought smugly. I knew she wasn't a Downworlder. "Is that a place in London?" You wish girl, you wish.
"Never mind that," said Will, clearly not in a mood to explain to her about vampires, fey, werewolves or warlocks. "I'm boasting my investigative skills, and I would prefer to do it without interruption. Where was I?" Wow, so full of himself.
"The dagger–" Theresa broke off as a voice echoed down the corridor, high and sickly sweet.
"Miss Gray," one of the Dark Sisters probably called out. It seemed to drift between the walls like coiling smoke. "Oh, Miss Graaay. Where are you?"
Theresa froze. "Oh, God, they've caught up with–"
Will seized her wrist again, and they were running off, me right on their footsteps. The witchlight in Will's other hand was throwing a wild pattern of shadows and light against the stone walls as they hurtled down the twisting corridor. The floor sloped down, the stones underfoot growing gradually getting more slick and damp as the air around them grew hotter and hotter. I am so never coming to London, I thought. It was like they were racing down into Hell itself as the voices of the Dark Sisters echoed off the walls. "Miss Graaaaay! We shan't let you run, you know. We shan't let you hide! We'll find you, poppet. You know we will." Poppet? Who uses the word poppet?
Will and Theresa careened around a corner and came up short and I nearly ran into the door. The corridor had ended at a pair of high metal doors. Letting go of Theresa, Will flung himself at the doors. They burst open and he tumbled inside, followed by Theresa, who spun to slam them shut behind her. I almost got shut out but she was having trouble closing it, she seemed to have put her back into it, literally, throwing her back against the door to force them close. I felt a little weird but it was gone in an instant. I guess I was sort of scared.
The only light came from Will's witchlight, its light had sunk down to an ember between his fingers. It lit him in the darkness, like limelight on a stage, as he reached around her to slam the bolt home on the door. The bolt looked heave and was flaking with rust and standing as close to him – Theresa literally standing on top of me – I could feel his tension in his body as he dragged it home and let it fall into place.
"Miss Gray?" He was leaning against her, her back against the closed doors. She could feel the driving rhythm of his heart – wait, what? I suddenly realized that all this time, it wasn't only my heart that I heard, but theirs too. It was like coming into this place and my hearing was intensified. The odd white illumination cast by the witchlight cast by the witchlight shimmered against the sharp angle of his cheeks, the faint sheen of sweat on his collarbones. There were marks there too, rising from the unbuttoned collar of his shirt – like the mark of his hand, thick and black, as if someone had inked designs onto his skin.
That's when I realized. I was seeing from Theresa's point of view, which was creeping me out. It wasn't like this like ten seconds ago, so why now? No wonder it felt like Will got shorter, I was seeing from Theresa's eyes. What the hell?
The gears in my mind turning, I looked down to see the outline of my body faintly glowing, like how a seraph blade would when it was named. Then it dawned upon me. I was standing exactly in step with Tessa and in this weird dream thingy, it made me see in her view. Like I was her. Surprising myself, I found myself muttering cool.
I couldn't hear her thoughts though. Just see what she sees. I was wondering why I was checking him out; it wasn't something that I would normally do.
"Were are we?" Theresa whispered. "Are we safe?"
Without answering her, he drew away, raising his right hand. As he lifted it, the light blazed up higher, illuminating the room.
They – we – were in a cell that was normal sized but for back then, whatever time period this was in, it had to be considered big. There walls, floor and ceiling were stone, sloping down to a large drain in the middle of the floor. There was only one window, very high up in the wall. There were no doors save the ones they had come through. But none of that was what made Theresa draw in her breath.
Even I realized that it was a slaughter house. I wasn't sure how I knew, given that I never actually seen one. Maybe Theresa's knowledge flowed through her to me.
There were long wooden tables running down the length of the room. Bodies, actual human bodies lay on one of them. They were stripped and pale. Each had a black incision in the shape of a Y marking its chest, and each head dangles back over the edge of the table, the hair of the women sweeping the floor like brooms. On the center table were piles of bloodstained knives and machinery – copper cogs and brass gears and sharp-toothed sliver hacksaws. Again, I felt like Theresa's knowledge was seeping into me.
I resisted the urge to scream, thankful to have seen worse things before in my new Shadowhunter life. Theresa however wasn't lucky – or rather unfortunate, depending on how you think about it – crammed her hand into her mouth, stifling a scream.
I felt something weird again and this time I realized that it was the loss of connection with Theresa. It wasn't fear that I had felt before, no, it was the connection. Or whatever it was. That explained the feeling before in the bedroom too; I guess the first time was the weirdest. I probably didn't even notice seeing that it was only for a second.
I matched my stance with hers and I felt her taste blood down on her – Theresa's – own fingers. Will didn't seem to notice; he was white-faced as he looked around, mouthing something under his breath that Theresa didn't seem to catch and therefore, neither could I. It was rather irking that she couldn't hear as well as I could. So this is how mundies feel like. Sucks.
There was a crashing noise and the metal doors shuddered as if something heavy had flung itself against them. Theresa lowered her bleeding hand – breaking our connection and this time I didn't try to reconnect it – and cried out, "Mr. Herondale!"
He turned, as the doors shuddered again. A voice echoed for the other side of the: "Miss Gray! Come out now, and we won't hurt you!"
"They're lying," Theresa said quickly. Yeah, I mean they said they won't hurt her if she comes out now, so if she doesn't they are definitely going to hurt her. Of course they were lying!
"Oh, do you really think so?" Will asked sarcastically as Jace, packing as much sarcasm into the question as was humanly possible. He pocketed the witchlight and leaped onto the center table, the one covered in bloodied machinery. He bend down and picked up a heavy-looking brass cog, ad weighed it in his and. With a grunt of effort, he hurled it toward the high window; the glass shattered and Will raised his voice. "Henry! Some assistance, please! Henry!"
"Who's Henry?" Theresa demanded just as I thought that. Weird. At the moment though, the doors shuddered a third time, and thin cracks appeared in the metal. Clearly, they weren't going to hold much longer. Theresa dashed onto the table and seized a weapon, almost at random – it was ragged-toothed metal hacksaw, the kind butchers used to cut through bone. She whirled around, clutching it as the doors burst open.
What I guessed were the Dark Sisters stood in the doorway. One was tall and bony as a rake and the other had her eyes narrowed to slits. Unlike her other "sister" she was rather plump. A bright corona of blue sparks surrounded them, like tiny fireworks. Their gazes slid over Will – who, still standing on the table had drawn a seraph blade from his belt and came to rest on Theresa. One of the Sister's mouth stretched into a grin. "Little Miss Gray," she said. "You ought to know better than to run. We told you what would happen if you ran again…"
"Then do it!" Theresa shouted, seeming to have enough of the Sister's crap. I'm sure I would have too. "Whip me bloody. Kill me. I don't care!" Theresa looked gratified to see that the Dark Sisters looked at least a little taken aback by her outburst; I was guessing that she had never raised her voice to them from being too scared or something of that sort. "I won't let you give me to the Magister! I'd rather die!"
"What an unexpectedly sharp tongue you have, Miss Gray, my dear," said one of the Dark Sisters. How can she call her dear if she threatened to whip her bloody! Then I noticed that with great deliberation she reached to draw the glove form her right hand, and I saw her bare hand. The skin was gray and thick, like an elephant's hid, nails long dark talons. They looked as sharp as knives.
Wait, so how are they sisters? I was broken out of my thoughts by the Sister giving Theresa a fixed grin. "Perhaps if we cut it out of your head, you'd learn to mind your manners."
She moved closer to Theresa and was blocked by Will, leaping down from the table to put himself between them. "Malik," he said the blade's name and his seraph blade blazed like a star.
"Get out of my way, little Nephilim warrior," said the Sister that had been talking to whole time. For some reason, the other Sister never talked. At all. There was something seriously wrong with that. "And take your seraph blades with you. This is not your battle."
"You're wrong about that." Will narrowed his eyes at her. "I've heard some things about you, my lady. Whispers that run through Downworld like a river of black poison. I've been told that you and your sister will pay handsomely for the bodies of dead humans, and you don't mind how they get that." I was shocked at what the Dark Sisters had come to. And how Will – who was so much like Jace that it hurt – was saying 'my lady' while literally dissing her. Well, I'll give him that he's polite.
"Such a fuss over a few mundanes." The other sister had finally chuckled and moved to stand beside her sister, so that Will, with his blazing seraph blade, was between Theresa and both ladies. Of course, no badly I wanted to help, I knew somewhere that I couldn't – it would just go through them like going through air. "We have no quarrel with you, Shadowhunter, unless you choose to pick one. You have invaded our territory and broken Covenant Law in doing so. We could report you to the Clave–"
"While the Clave disapproves of trespassers, oddly they take an even darker view of beheading and skinning people. They're peculiar that way," Will said sarcastically at the end. He had a point there though.
"People?" The other Sister who never talks spat. "Mundanes. You care no more about them than we do." She looked toward Theresa then. "Has he told you what he really is? He isn't human–"
"You're one to talk," Theresa said in a trembling voice. I was surprised that she got anything out at all.
"And has she told you what she is?" The Sister that talks a lot demanded of Will. "About her talent? What she can do?"
"If I were to venture a guess," Will replied, "I would say it has something to do with the Magister."
The Sister that didn't talk a lot looked suspicious. "You know of the Magister?" She glanced at Theresa. "Ah, I see. Only what she has told you. The Magister, little boy angel, is more dangerous than you could ever imagine. And he has waited a long time for something with Tessa's ability. You might even say he is the one who caused her to be born–"
Her words were swallowed up in a colossal crash as the whole east wall of the room suddenly caved in. It was like the walls of Jericho tumbling down in an old bible picture story. One moment the wall was there, and the next it wasn't; there was a huge gaping rectangular hole instead, steaming with choking swirls of plaster dust. Tessa? I wondered. Well, Theresa is a mouthful.
The thin-as-rail Sister who didn't talk that much gave a thin scream and seized up her skirts – that were also old fashioned, I noticed absently – with her bony hands. Evidently, she hadn't expected the wall to collapse any more then Theresa – Tessa – had.
Will caught hold of Tessa's hand again – what it was with Herondales and hands, I did not know – pulled her toward him, blocking her with his body as chunks of stone and plaster rained down on them. Clearly, Jace was just like Will; Jace had covered me with his own body when the Wayland Manor had collapsed. I cringed at the memory and continued watching the scene unfold. As Will's arms went around Tessa, I could hear the plump one that talked a lot screaming.
Tessa squirmed in Will's grip, seeming unaffected by being in a hot guy's grip, trying to see what was happening. Obviously, she was one curious cat. I followed her gaze and saw that the bony one who doesn't talk pointed one gloved, trembling finger toward the dark hole in the wall. The dust was beginning to settle, barely – enough so that the figures moving toward them through the wreckage slowly began to take shape. The shadowy outlines of two human figures became visible; each holding a seraph blade, clearly Shadowhunters. I glanced at Tessa and I saw somewhat awe fix her face, as if she thought that they were angels, which was partly true.
The chubby one gave a screech and lunged forward. She threw her hands out, and sparks shot from the like exploding fireworks. I heard someone yell and Will released Tessa, spun and flung his seraph blade at the fatter Sister. It whipped through the air, end and over, and drove into her chest accurately. Clearly, his ancestor had the same skill as Jace did. Maybe that's where he got some of it from. The Sister screamed and twisted, staggering backward and fell, crashing down onto one of the horrible tables, which collapsed in a mess of blood and splintering wood.
I couldn't help it; I giggled, covering my mouth with my hand. It was actually quite funny since I was involved in the actual battle itself. It reminded me in movies where the bad guy got tricked by the kid – like Home Alone. I always had loved those movies; they also showed that kids aren't so stupid after all.
With a last giggle, I saw the Will was grinning, and it wasn't a pleasant sort of grin. Typical. I felt that I already knew him since he was so much like Jace; it wasn't even funny how alike they were. He turned around to look at Tessa then. For a moment they stared at each other, silently, across the space that separated them – and then his fellow Shadowhunters flooded in around him, two men in close fitting dark coats, brandishing their seraph blades and moving with inhuman speed that all Shadowhunters had. It looks like they didn't develop the leather like gear that we had nowadays but close enough.
I watched Tessa back toward the far wall, probably in fear. I didn't blame her; poor mundie girl had to see all this chaos. What was so special about her? I wondered not for the first time. She was smart enough to try to avoid all of the chaos in the center of the room, where the thin Sister was howling imprecations, holding off her attackers with the burning sparks of energy that flow from her hands like fiery rain. Now I realized what the blue sparks were before and why I recognized them; they were just like Magnus's. There was no doubt that she wasn't a warlock, I mean, Magnus's looked exactly like that in a battle – trust me, I've seen it enough times to know.
The other portly Sister was writhing on the floor, sheets of black smoke rising from her body as if she were burning form the inside out. Wait…wasn't she suppose to be a warlock too? From the same parents if they were sisters? My eyes widened. This Sister was a demon. They weren't sisters, they were half sisters. That explained the claw like hand.
Tessa moved toward the open door that lead to the corridor obliviously. Hands seized her and yanked her backward. Tessa shrieked and twisted, but the hands circling her upper arms were strong as iron. I was rooted to my spot, watching. It's not like I can do anything anyways. I was useless here like I was in the Shadow World a year ago.
And then I realized; that was one of Will's Shadowhunter friends or something. Tessa turned her head to the side and sank her teeth into the hand gripping her left arm. Stupid girl! I thought, hoping she could tell that it wasn't one of the Sisters. Well, it's not like she knew, so I didn't blame her. If it was them, well, at least she would try to fight her way out. Even if she was defenseless. Wait, no. In Shadowhunter training, we were weapons ourselves. I doubt that fit in her case though.
The Shadowhunter yelled and let go of her. She spun around, probably not used to the arms not gripping her anymore. I struggled to get a view of the man since I was so short. Not for the first time, I cursed myself for it.
I finally saw a tall man – what's up with everyone being tall? Even back then! – with untidy ginger hair. Hey! I thought happily. Someone else finally has red hair like me! Well, his is less red but still.
I could see that he was cradling his hand that was bitten by Tessa against his chest. "Will!" he called out. "Will, she bit me!"
"Did she, Henry? Will, looking amused as per usual – again, just like Jace, I noticed – appeared near them like a summoned spirit form the chaos of smoke and flames. Sort of like a genie. I followed Tessa's gaze – which surprisingly wasn't on Will again, what was with her, I did not know. Maybe she was like me, trying not to fall for the guy that everyone fell for, due to the fact of their stunningly good looks. I could see the second companions that appeared from the hole in the wall, a muscular brown-haired young man, holding a struggling skinny Sister. The fatter Sister was a dark humped shape on the ground. I didn't see them kill her – I mean kill it. It was a demon so it wasn't a human being. Will raised an eyebrow in Tessa's direction. "It's bad form to bite," he informed her, just like how Jace would, always having never-ending retorts that were witty. "Rude, you know. Hasn't anyone ever told you that?"
"It's also rude to go about grabbing at ladies you haven't been introduced to," Tessa said stiffly. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that?" Yeah, you go girl! I cheered mentally, not sure why I didn't just say it out loud; it's not like they can hear me.
The ginger-haired man – Henry, I think – shook his bleeding hand with a rueful smile. Tessa looked like she almost, I repeat, almost looked like she felt guilty for having bitten him. He did have a nice sort of face, I guess. But he was older than us but not by much. Probably in his early 20's or so.
"Will! Look out!" the brown-haired man shouted. Will spun as something flew through the air, narrowly missed Henry's head, and crashed into the wall behind Tessa. It was a large brass cog, and it hit the wall with such force that it stuck there like a marble wedged into a bit of pastry. Tessa whirled and saw the stout sister advancing toward them, her eyes burning like coal in her crumpled white face. Black licks of flame sprayed up around the hilt of the sword that protruded from her chest. Any doubt of her not being a demon was gone now. I knew it! I thought smugly, feeling bad for the Shadowhunters and Tessa. It was bad enough that they had to fight with a warlock, and now they have to fit this stupid demon. Well, better than fighting two warlocks, I guess. Not that I know of, I never really fought with a warlock unless you count arguing with Alec's boyfriend, Magnus about my fashion taste which has gotten better..
"Damn–" Will reached for the hilt of another belt wedged through the belt at his waist. "I thought we'd put that thing down–"
Baring her teeth, the heavy Sister lunged. Will leaped out of the way, but Henry wasn't quite as fast; she struck him and knocked him backward. Seems like Will is the best of his age – if he was anything like Jace – and apparently better than Henry who was undoubtedly older than him. Will even leaped like Jace I realized with a pang. I thought angrily, titling my hands and head slightly up, as if to think to the Angel, of all the dreams, it had to include Jace's ances–
I'm not even sure why I did that – I wasn't very religious. Hell, I haven't been in a Church until the day I saved Simon when he was a rat from the vampires. Either way, I was still complaining to the Angel.
I was finally brought back to reality – or whatever the hell this thing was – by realizing that the large Sister was clinging on to Henry like a tick; she rode him to the ground, snarling, her claws sinking into his shoulders as he yelled. Will whirled, the seraph blade now in his hand; raising it, he shouted "Uriel!" and it flared up from its name being called like a blazing torch. Tessa fell back against the wall as he whipped the blade downward. The Sister reared back, her claws out, reaching for him–
And the blade sheared neatly through her throat. Not bad, I thought approvingly. He was perceptibly very skilled. Her head completely severed, rolling and bumping, as Henry, yelling in disgust and soaked in blackish blood, shoved he remains of her body off him and scrambled to his feet.
A terrible scream that made me want to cover my ears with my hands tore through the room. "Nooooo!"
The cry had come from the lanky Sister. The brown-haired man holding her let go with a sudden cry as blue fire shot from her hands and eyes. Yelling in pain, he fell to the side as she tore away from him and advanced on Will and Tessa, her eyes flaming like black torches. She was hissing words in the harsh language of the demons. It sounded like cracking flames; how that was possible to make those noises, I didn't know.
Raising a hand, the woman flung what looked like a bolt of lightning toward Tessa. With a cry Will sprang in front of her, his seraph blade extended. The lightning ricocheted off the blade and struck one of the stone walls, which glowed with a sudden strange light.
I blinked. Who knew that back then, the world was even more violent. I sure didn't. "Henry," Will shouted, without turning, "if you could remove Miss Gray to a place of safety – soon–" I blinked again, Will was exactly like Jace in so many ways, but one thing was evident right now; he certainly seemed more polite even if he did seem arrogant and witty as Jace. Maybe Will didn't have a bad of a past as Jace did to make him that way. Maybe Will wasn't scared of loving someone, because he wasn't taught that to love is to destroy. Maybe, just maybe, Jace would have been less the way he was with pushing everyone away if he wasn't brought up by Valentine. If he was brought up the same way that Will was, then maybe, he would have been a bit more polite and less afraid to care for someone. He might even think that he was worth it since he always said he was never worth it for her, which was the only thing that he ever was wrong about. If only he was like Will was right now; things could have been different then.
I hated Valentine. He isn't even deserved to be called my father, hell, he isn't my father and he will never be. I hate what he did to Jace, what he did to me. What he did to us. It was all his fault that Jace was brought up to not love anyone and to deal with his brokenness he was sarcastic and witty and rude. Thank the Angel that he was dead. He deserved to be dead.
I broke out of me reverie to see Henry's bitten hand come down on Tessa's shoulder as the Sister flung another sheet of lightning toward her. Why is she trying to kill Tessa? I wondered. What about Will? That's her main threat! There seriously had to be something special about Tessa if a grown warlock wasn't taking out the person who was trying to kill her.
As Henry pulled Tessa toward him, more light sheared off Will's blade, refracting into a dozen blazing shards of brightness. For a moment Tessa and I stared, caught by the unlikely beauty of it. I was caught by it artistically though. We heard Henry shout; telling Tessa to drop on the floor but it was too late. One of the blazing shards had caught Tessa with incredible force. Ouch, I thought and winced mentally. That got to hurt.
Tessa was knocked free of Henry's grasp, lifted and flung backward. Her head struck the wall with force and I hear the Sister's high screeching laughter as Tessa blanked out. And then I did too.
.o.O.o.
I felt like I got hit with the blazing shards too. It felt like I was getting run over a train. Then, my head cracked against something too and I dimly wondered if I was somehow connected with Tessa. But I didn't recall being in the same step as her.
That's when I forced my heavy lids open.
My cheek was again resting on the cool hardwood floor, my hands on either side of me, palms flat on the wood. I could feel the smooth coolness of it under my fingertips. I would sometime sprawl on the bed like this when I couldn't go to sleep, my hands would be on either sides of the pillows. Even my legs were in the same position. They were slightly apart. I groaned, wondering if I passed out of the floor or something of that sort.
I propped myself up on my elbows, thinking about my dream. Or was it a dream? A nagging voice asked in my mind. I sighed and got up; I was so going to prove that it was a dream.
I spun around to glance at my door; perfectly normal. The same shiny golden doorknob and hinges, the deep brown mahogany wood.
I walked closer to it, until my nose was almost brushing against the door. For some unknown reason, I put my hand up on it, feeling the wood under my fingertips.
I stopped when I felt a shallow mark; it was almost like it wasn't even there. I glanced up at it, and furrowed my eyebrows. There wasn't a mark on the door that I knew of. I trailed my hand around the same area, wondering if it was just a splinter or something. All I came across of were more marks connected together, in fact, they were lines. I peered closely at the door, looking at it in confusion.
Looking at the big picture, I could see the faint slivery outline of a rectangle with a swirl inside of it.
Yes, I am really proud about how long it is =) It was 14 pages on Word and around 7,500 words (I guess it makes up for the short chapter last time =D)I would have gotten it up yesterday but I needed to fine-tune it. But at least it's super long! My longest yet (wow, I keep breaking my records) =) So, no, not clubbing yet ;p Soon though. New secret words: sunny day. It's been so rainy (hence sliver rain for the last chapter) the past few days, that maybe my secret word might do wonders =)
Special thanks to Bookninja15 seeing that I have been using Institution (which is wrong) rather than Institute. So thanks =) Now I got to go back and fix that...
P.S. Check out the stories I beta for: Bookninja's Raziel Academy, Coolxnerd's You Should Have Stayed and MollyGM's City of Bones Jace POV! They are all insanely awesome (as always) so check it out =D
If you have an questions, just ask =) And new goal: 64? Please? With a Jace on top?
***Reminder: This is set AFTER City of Glass and BEFORE City of Fallen Angels. And don't forget to review please!