Desert spread out for as far as she could see, buildings warped and demolished dotted the landscape like large rocks on an uneven surface. The sun beaming down casted everything in a violent red light, contextualizing the horror that had happened here.
Livvy knew she should recognize this place, but it was unlike anything she had ever seen.
Time seemed to pass by her as she watched, images flying past her, changing the world around her.
All of the sudden it stopped, the suddenness of it pitched her forward like she was on a roller coaster.
Standing in front of her was an imperfect specter of herself.
She still couldn't imagine herself looking as she did now, older with scars and tattoos, but that was who was staring back at her now, not herself but the Livia from Thule.
The other her was wearing a white T-shirt stained with sweat and dirt, her jeans were ripped and frayed with a gun holster around her waist.
"Are you sure you want to see everything?" She asked.
Hearing her speak made it all so real, this person that existed alongside her, another twin she never knew about. She was shaking, because she knew what she was asking, she knew what memories laid beyond the wall of her own.
She squared her jaw, she shouldn't be afraid to see what someone else had experienced.
The other Livvy didn't wait for her to answer. Perhaps it was something she sensed, or maybe she just knew her own face well enough to tell she was ready.
With a grim nod, the world shifted around them, flooding her senses with visions of the past.
She was clutching Dru's hand hard as she tried to pull her little sister on the train with her and Ty. She held her little brother who was crying, struggling to keep his face hidden in her shoulder and balance his body weight.
Emma and Julian didn't look back as the Endarkened descended on them. They were only half their size, it was more evident to her and Ty, who were used to being thrown into their age group while Mark and Helen stood apart like adults.
Dru was screaming for them, digging her nails into Livvy's arms as she tried to pry herself away from her. She bit down hard on the hand that was pulling her, but Livvy held onto her even more tightly as she felt the bones of her hand grow numb from the pain, and Dru desperately just bit down harder.
It would be awhile before she could properly wield a weapon with that hand, but the scar would remain.
She saw Dru again at fourteen, she was dour, her body language closing herself off away from the world. She often wished she knew what her sister was thinking when she stared out the window but she never talked anymore.
It made her sick that sometimes she was glad she had gone mute, because then she never had to ask her if she hated her.
Whenever she looked at her sister she was reminded of all of her failures and how broken everything became. She loved her sister, but she was content going along with what she wanted and ignored her, then she wouldn't see her failures, the only thing she couldn't ignore was the guilt.
Livvy hardly looked at her as Dru left for that mission. She hovered there, standing apart from the rest of the group, her eyes already looked distant.
She didn't even hug her when she walked away, telling herself it was because she had to be strong for the rest of the group, she couldn't make it seem like a tearful farewell. But the real reason was because it would have felt forced.
When Dru never came back she had to make the call, the unfairness of it all raged inside her that she should have to be the one to do this. She hated herself even more that the decision was easier than it should be; partly because she had already said goodbye to her sister a long time ago. The last pieces of her heart broke into pieces, falling away into nothingness when she made the decision to leave her behind.
At night when the decision pressed on her chest, threatening to collapse her lungs she told herself that her sister had just wandered off to whatever faraway dream she was always looking at.
The bottle she cradled before bed allowed her to sleep but nothing could stop the nightmares that bled into the day.
The night never ended, she moved mechanically through the day becoming the leader she needed to be because that was all she had. She tried to live by the Shadowhunter oath out of spite of everything that had been taken away from her. Just because her runes were gone, her family taken from, her future stolen, she was and would always be Nephilim.
It was the one thing Sebastian could never take from her, even if they killed her, she would still die a Shadowhunter.
But when night dragged on too long, the blood on her skin soaked through her resolve. Her tiredness had left her apathetic, losing Dru had left her numb.
She had almost saved a mundane from a demon, when he turned out to be Forsworn. He turned on her as soon as he was safe, scared to death the Endarkened would kill him if they knew he had been saved by the rebels.
Livvy had been the one to shoot the bullet that ended his life.
A Shadowhunter is what she was supposed to be, but what sort of Shadowhunter took mundane lives?
The law was hard, yes, but not as hard as her heart.
It was when they were hiding in an alley from a group of passing Endarkened when she saw them.
Her Julian and Emma all grown up.
It was the first time she saw them since she left them behind that day, but she could never mistake them.
She stood in shock, her eyes were unable to look away
Julian had his arm casually around Emma as she snuggled into the crook of his shoulder. She said something in his ear that made him laugh, it was a cold sound but it was real.
The seashell bracelet Emma had given him when they were children hung from his wrist.
They were alive, changed and Endarkned, but here they were carrying on like they were living their own lives together.
She felt a powerful pull trying to lure her out of the alley. If they saw her maybe they would change her too. She would lose herself she knew, but how much was left anyway? She could be with them, and the pain and then maybe the guilt she harboured would disappear.
Maybe she would laugh again too with her brother, she wouldn't care that Ty was gone that she had left Dru to her fate.
The urge to go to them was the strongest thing she had felt in so long. It was the most she had ever wanted anything in her life.
But before she could take a step forward she remembered her comrades beside her, the ones that depended on her. They would never leave her behind, and they wouldn't survive against the Endarkened.
She didn't go, but she would always wonder what would have happened if she was alone that day.
8888
It was Cameron that finally reminded her that she cared, that she could love. It was hard, and she didn't know how to begin opening up about everything that had happened, but he knew she needed him, and that was enough. He had been the one to show her there was purpose in fighting even if it was a battle they would never win.
He gave her the strength to try to be someone she could be proud of. It was effortless to fall in love with him, as strangely sudden it had seemed. It was almost like one day she went from admiring him to being terrified of loving someone again.
He was the link one to her past that wasn't painful, safely enough removed from her family that it didn't hurt to be around him like it was with Dru, but familiar enough to be comforting.
She had loved him so much, his warm smile, his searching blue eyes, the way he bit his lip when he flirted with her, and the way he would just be in her presence when she didn't know how to reach for him.
Out of everything that had happened to her, falling in love had been the worst. It was agonizing to never be able to say the words she wanted, paralyzing at the thought of losing him.
If she could have at least had one good thing in her life, she would have wanted it to be him.
But instead she had victory, and hollow it had seemed when the price was him.
Callously, she sealed him away in the City of Bones, just like she had abandoned Dru.
She tried to console herself that his body at least would rest in the Shadowhunter necropolis, the place of his ancestors, the place his service had earned him.
Her mind reminded her that he would have given up anything to defeat Sebastian, but that didn't stop her from imagining those days he must have spent alone in that dark masouem until his body finally gave out.
It would have been a slow agonizing death wondering those halls. She couldn't keep from asking herself if he had held out hope she would come back for him.
She had spent days eating and sitting in on celebrations with their comrades while he sat dying of starvation.
While she was trying to sleep, his body was just a distance away giving out on him.
She pushed herself into another purpose so she wouldn't think about it. She never stayed idle as she prepared everyone for their next campaign.
The Julian from another world had whispered to her the name of the Unseelie King before he had left. She spent all of her time obsessing over how she could use that knowledge for something, anything at all that would distract her and give her a new purpose.
Finally, she heard a rumour that the Unseelie King and Ash Morgenstern had used the Black Volume to open a portal to another world, a world that sounded very much like the world that Julian and Emma had come from.
All of her energy went into this new goal, promising the rebels that had followed her that she could lead them to a new world, one that hadn't been tainted by Sebastian Morgenstern, where Shadowhunters still existed, where they could be reunited with their families.
And then when she had accomplished that goal, slaying the King and finally returning home to the L.A. institute. What should have been a new beginning, like everything else, had been stolen from her….
The memories began to separate, reawakening her to her own consciousness. She felt the flicker of her identity and groped her way towards it.
But as she was being pulled apart from the other Livvy, her mind couldn't help asking the obvious question, but what happened to Tavvy, what about Ty?
She felt a sigh that emanated despair from the other consciousness.
Then the sensation of being absolved again, the other consciousness braced itself for a memory it could scarcely bare to remember.
It was dark, a deadly silence had spread throughout the room like a warning to come.
And what would come would have Livvy regretting this day for the rest of her life.
It came without warning, bursting through the glass ceiling, unaffected by the glass that rained down on them.
She flinched just for a second; true understanding of the horror situation had yet to sink in.
Ty, more sensitive to the noise, and already overwhelmed bowed his head as if he was hit by an invisible source of pain.
Dru had tried to pull Tavvy who had curled up underneath the ceiling, but when the claws dove for them both, Livvy had only a second to react and pull her back.
Their baby brother was lifted into the air, the claws clamping tightly down on his little body until he screamed out in pain.
Livvy threw anything she could find wildly up at the creature, tears and screams pouring out of her in desperation.
The closest anything came to hitting the creatures was a knife Ty had thrown.
He charged at the fountain the demon was hovering above, his seraph just activated when he gained the demons attention.
Livvy screamed before it even happened, she felt the wound on her neck before the demon's talons found his.
Blood spurted from his neck, instantly toppling him into the fountain.
The demon screeched, flying out of the hole in the ceiling, Tavvy's screams could be heard getting smaller and smaller as the distance grew.
She found Ty lying face down in the fountain, the water turned red from his blood.
Sinking into the water, she pulled her twin into her lap.
At first when she turned his face over and found his eyes staring back at her. She thought he was still alive. But his grey eyes that always had a sharp intelligence to them held nothing now.
"Ty-Ty! Please, please, don't leave me! I can't lose you!" She sobbed, trying to rub the blood from his face, her hand found his, instinctively rubbing circles into his palms to comfort him.
"Dru? DRU! Give me a stele!-Ty you can't leave without me, you can't. We're not supposed to be apart..were not..DRU PLEASE! Please!" The words broke off into screams as she choked and yelled for him, blood coated them both until she couldn't tell where her body ended and Ty's began. "I can't leave you behind, I can't, I can't I can't!" She whispered over and over as she rocked him back and forth, hugging him as tightly as she did when he was upset, her body automatically acting on it's own to comfort the person she knew best.
She couldn't bring herself to let him go, because then it would all be real. She just held him and cried even louder as if the force of her sorrow would make the world give him back, forgetting entirely of her only family left crying alone.
Despair ripped her apart, tearing away at her sense of self. All that was left was this pain as she sunk into the memory, she couldn't breath. She found her own mind crying out the same thing.
I can't leave him, I can't, I can't!
Somewhere she knew it wasn't her Ty, but it didn't matter now.
A deafening scream left her throat from as she thought of the memory. When she opened her eyes, she was on her knees back in that desert with the other Livvy bending down next to her.
"I didn't want to show you that one," she whispered.
At first she couldn't say anything, she just sobbed. The memories were still in her head, pushing away her own memories until they became her reality.
"It's okay," she said gently, "it's not your life, your family is still out there."
Livvy took several deep breaths, trying to force herself to remember what she and Ty did on their fifteenth birthday.
Julian had made them a chocolate cake, she remembered. Ty had let her blow out her candles.
Livvy's saber was inscribed as a birthday present, but before Julian could give Ty's his, he had asked if he could keep the skunk he had kept as secret for his birthday present.
Julian didn't have the heart to tell him a straight no, so he said he could keep it for two more days.
Her breathing returned to normal as this memory prompted a string of others and basked in the truth of them. That was her reality, that was what was real.
"You see?" The other Livvy said, "it's not your life, you don't want it, and you can't just have it."
Livvy looked up at her, staring into her own face she could see things about herself she never noticed before. Like how her jaw clenched or how tense she held her shoulders.
"But this is my world, with my family, you can't just take them either," she argued back.
She shook her head. "I'm not trying to replace you, but you are trying to replace me. How long do you think you can masquerade as me? I'm not saying this because I want to get back what I've lost, it's too late for that, it will never be the same as what I had. I'm saying it because there are people that still need me. Not just someone who looks like me, but me."
"What about Ty?" She demanded brusquely. "How can you tell me to leave him? You can't say he doesn't need me after what he did to get me back!" She broke in desperation, she was holding on tightly now, even though she had once wished Ty would let her go.
She understood the soft expression on the other girls face, the worried lines on her forehead that creased as she thought about the boy she had lost. The next part she said very softly.
"I know this because I had to do it. If I was in his place, if I had that book, I would have done the same thing, but I didn't so I lived without him. It was hell, but he isn't living in hell. He has people to love him and help him through it, can you tell me honestly that he doesn't?"
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Kit adjusted the mask in the small mirror he held. Apparently, the highest members of Pandemonium also wore masquerade masks when they met, as if calling themselves a Court wasn't extra enough.
The whole thing was stupid, he looked stupid, this plan was stupid, and the fact that he only had Jaime as backup was stupid. But his hands were sort of tied behind his back by vindictive black magic, so what choice did he have?
If everything worked out, if they got what they came here for then when he saw Ty again he could tell him he wasn't giving up.
No matter what choices had been stolen from him, black magic and faerie destinies be damned, he would always choose Ty.
Going for an air of confidence, fueled by sudden determination, he pushed the door open to the old parliament building a little too hard.
The door slammed into the wall, grabbing several people who had been hanging out in the foyer's attention.
Kit raised his hands apologetically, while the doorman bent to look at any damage done to the wall.
Pretending to slip his hands into his pants pocket, he snaked one hand in the oblivious Warlock's coat. There he wrapped his hands around a piece of rolled parchment, and carefully retracted his hand.
Everyone had their eyes on him but not his hands as he stood close to the doorman's side.
The man stood up, small protrusions on his forehead made his masks rest slightly askewed on his face. He brushed off his coat, his hands smoothing over the pockets Kit had just been in.
Regarding him with disdain, he curtly held his hand out for an invitation, which Kit readily produced after having just stolen the parchment from himt.
He flipped open the envelope and eyed the blank slip of paper save for a lone dark design or an ouroboros. A black stain of ink on the white page.
A few people frowned, trying to place who he was and if he belonged here. But several of the guests paled at the sight of him. Their color draining from their faces as the man who claimed he held all of their secrets, waltzed into a room full of their friends and foes.
The doorman remained unimpressed, simply handing him back the invitation for him to carry on elsewhere.
Kit zeroed on a few of the masked men staring him down, trying to issue them a cocky wordless challenge. One that said, 'I know you can't touch me,' but didn't know that he managed to do anything besides squint at them in the mask.
It was at least a simple mask, covering just his eyes with a black and red diamond pattern, and the bridge of his nose painted gold.
"What is your problem Kit? Are you trying to puncture my eardrums?" Jaime yelled through the device in his ears.
Kit tried to hide the face he made, turning away so he could warn Jaime to shut up.
They were wearing mundane earpieces with microphones hidden in their shirts to talk to each other. He thought it was an ingenious idea, even if Jaime called it lame. Downworlders never suspected simple mundane technology, plus this made the mission a lot cooler.
Keeping his face turned towards the corner of the room, he hissed into the microphone, "If you don't shut up I'm going to turn myself in just so I can watch you get turned into seafoam!"
"Why would you say seafoam?"
"It's from The Little Mermaid, and it's the first thing I thought of because I'm staring right at a mermaid!" He stole a glance at her.
It must have been one of those rare days they could walk on land, because she was standing right next to the refreshments. Her dress was simple but elegant, cutting off just at her thighs to show off the scales shining in the light.
She gave him a considering look before tossing her hair back in approval, and winked at him.
There was silence on the other end.
"Look, is it clear for me to sneak in there or not?"
"No, I just walked in the door," he said, through gritted teeth, turning back towards the other people instead of standing in the corner of the room like the Blair Witch.
At least the foyer was mostly empty, save for him and the mermaid.
He walked further into the main room, and what he saw he could only describe as the height of opulence.
White marble spread across the floor they stood on, the walls were a delicate ivory trimmed with what looked like gold. The candelabra above them sparkled with real diamonds. Kit knew authenticity when he saw it, and just by looking around he could tell Pandemonium could too.
The candles swung above them, casting a mad light around the dark room, just as the intensity of the music picking up in fever.
Vampire subjugates played violins with an inhuman intensity, the hands working mechanically as their eyes never wavered from their dead stares. The mindless trance with which they played was as haunting as their music.
Large tapestries depicting gruesome Fairy tales lined the walls. Kit stood next to one he figured was inspired by Beauty and the Beast. A woman with a simple rose falling from her hair was bent and haggard while her wrists were chained to a dark lycanthrope creature.
Snow White clawed at the roof of a casket as dwarves piled on the dirt, burying her alive, on another one. He didn't like how much skill and beauty was put into creating these images.
The sound of the music picked up with anticipation, the mysterious figures swayed in masks as light flickered around them, all of this gave the illusion that the room was spellbound.
Kit glanced past a blindfolded nymph serving horderves to a shelf mounted on the wall displaying various magical artifacts.
Laying the shelves was an assortment of wands encrusted with precious gems, scrying glass held in an intricately designed frame of high quality material, and what his eyes immediately fell to was what looked like one of the actual crystal skulls.
But what finally captured his attention was a giant bronze statue in the middle of the room of Pandemonium's sigil, the two headed ouroboros.
"Why have you come here?" Someone coming to stand next to him hissed.
"I've always wondered," Kit ignored the man's question, "why this symbol?"
The man sighed in irritation, "It's an alchemy symbol, surely you know what an ouroboros is?"He said with a brisk clip to his words, it was familiar, as were his eyebrows that looked like wide V's.
"I know what an ouroboros is," Kit snapped, in an impression of what he imagined the other him was like. He spent a while thinking about what he would be like if he was the one from Thule, and the only thing he came up with was angry. "All is one, and one is all, the eternal cycle. But this isn't a regular ouroboros, is it? This is a two headed snake."
The man shook his head, his sleek dark hair falling over his shoulder.
Kit tried to study him, straining to discern where he had heard him before.
He leaned in to whisper, "If I tell you, will you tell me why you have come."
"Go ahead and try, what do you have to lose?" Kit answered, remembering that Jaime could hear him as he reacted with muffled laughter.
The man sneered at Kit, dark eyes visible through the holes of his white mask, incisors protruding his lips,.
Kit remembered who he was, Abel Afumati. A vampire who liked to do sick experiments against any downworlder unlucky enough to find them ensnared by his political pull.
It made sense he sought out a powerful club like Pandemonium to surround himself with. Looking at the sharp fangs, it also would make sense that Afumati would use the first chance he got to get rid of him if he was blackmailing him.
He didn't need the glare of a vampire to tell him how dangerous the situation he was in was, yet despite that he found himself enjoying this. There was a time he imagined he would be living a life like this one, putting the skills Johnny had taught him were so important to use.
It was a sort of high he wasn't used to anymore, the kind made you bet on being invincible, and the higher the risk the better the feeling when he won.
Afumati relented to his goading."It represents our patron founders, Sammael and Lilith, the first demons of this plane."
Sammael.
The name ran through him like a bell being rung. He looked back to the bronze statue. Two snakes in an endless cycle of surrounding the world in their influences. It was so obvious he wished Ty had been here. He probably would have figured everything out by now.
"The originators and catalyst of all magic," Afumati sounded wistful.
"What do you mean?" Kit asked.
He looked pleased at being able to make Kit's facade of indifference slip.
"Think of it, Sammael and Lilith started the Incursion, the demons that lead into this world that created Warlocks, Vampires, Lycanthropes, and it was Sammael's and Lilith's children that became the race of the Fair Folk after the children of Mannan. Even Shadowhunters owe their existence to the the demons that gave a purpose for their creation."
Kit tried to seem impassive as he was rendered speechless in his surprise, Jaime as well was just static on the other end as they processed this.
Flooding his mind at the name of Mannan, was the image of a magnificent kingdom surrounding a floating palace submerged under the sea. Bronze warriors utop white steads staring unblinkingly at the forefront of his mind, the children of Mannan."
Jaime was actually right in suspecting that the club had something to do with the Cohort afterall.
But was this cult just a coincidence? Kit's gut feeling told him that when it came to an old cult with secret ties in everything, then it was unlikely they were innocent on any account. All they needed was to get a few prophecies going and it would be just like a Dan Brown book.
"As amusing as it is to that you have taken such an interest in our history, I must ask again as to why you are here?"
"Why, are you afraid I'm here to spread all of your little secrets?" he drawled out, another leading question to get Afumati to feed him information. The smirk at his hatred wasn't forced anymore as he enjoyed having the upperhand in this game.
"If you're here to tell me I've run out of time, then since you're here why don't you divine the meaning of the summoning circles for yourself?" He spat.
He made to leave, placing his hands in his pocket trying to regain a proper posture before tossing him a glance over his shoulder. "I believe I have given you enough to go one with. I would warn you to watch yourself, sparrow, but I will be the first to admit I'm rooting for the knife that finally finds your back."
Kit felt the chill of the vampire's words as he walked away. Even though he knew they weren't meant for him, anxiety from his words reminded him of the faceless enemies surrounding him.
Johnny never had a friend in his life, what he had was enemies, and that was even better according to him.
He had no doubt Christopher was capable of generating the same spite as his father had, as he looked again at the masked strangers around him.
"We need to find out where they keep their spells," Jaime voiced in urgency at the vampire's words.
"Easier said than done," Kit muttered, trying to walk casually through the suspicious crowd, taking a strange sausage cracker form the nymph.
The People of Lyonesse were older than even Kieran must have realized when he told Kit about what he knew of their origins. They were among the first Faeries, and descended from the fallen angel, Sammael. It was no surprise now that he had control over the Riders and they were doing his evil bidding..
Was that why he-Chrisopher, had become involved with Pandemonium?
He considered all of this as he watched the crowd for a new in. It was easy to tell the mundanes from the downworlders, not just by the vampire's fashion that looked like they had straight out grave robbed someone, but by the way the mundanes hovered with uncertainty at the corners of the room where they were allowed. They were dressed ostentatiously in attempts to match the flamboyance of their hosts, attired with some of the more finer and expensive wardrobes. Every now and then a few downworlders would throw them a bone and include them in passing dialogue to appease their wealthy backers.
To his left he spotted a group of ifrits breaking away from their hushed conversation as they started walking towards him with clear intent.
Breaking away their attention was a voice speaking out in front of the room, demanding their attention.
She was a Warlock woman with a third eye and short cropped hair. "My most patient and loyal compatriots. Tonight I welcome you, after so long, to the beginning of everything our ancestors have worked for. Tonight of all nights we will commune with our Lord who has finally returned to us. Our prince and our demonic father will fulfill the prophecy as proclaimed, and we shall welcome the power of the city of Pandemonium."
Kit internally groaned at the woman's announcement, he hated it when he was right.
888888888888888888888888888888888
Dru waited outside the infirmary, a cup of coffee cradled in her hands. The infirmary had adapted to accommodate visitors now, several of the dinning chairs had been placed against the outside wall of the room.
She got the news that evening as she was preparing for patrol. She was almost done zipping up the gloves of her gear when Mason had staggered in supporting a half unconscious Mia.
Her gear was in perfect condition, and supported no other injury save for the large gash on her neck from where a demon has stung her and infected her with its poison.
She had been rushed to the infirmary immediately, they had Shadowhunters well equipped with more medical focused backgrounds readily available, and the medicine too, was quickly delivered.
It was far from life threatening, in fact, as far as Shadowhunters go it was little more than routine. But that didn't mean anything to Dru.
She was used to seeing wounds and receiving them in battle by now, but this was the first time it had really hit her that her friends were now the ones fighting. It wasn't their parents or older siblings, it wasn't a far off inevitability, they're training days were over, and Mason and Mia had ended theirs even earlier to help her.
What if something happened to either of them because there was a lesson they missed from the academy, or they were lacking some crucial demonology knowledge that could save their lives?
She knew it was a stupid worry, none of them would ever be a hundered percent ready, but that didn't make it any easier to think that if they weren't it was her fault.
The door creaked open as Mason slipped out. He had taken the vest from his gear off, his dark hair was long enough now to where he had to pull it back when he went on missions.
"You really don't need to wait out here if there's something else going on?" Mason tried to sound reassuring, but it only added to her guilt.
Wordlessly, she handed him the cup of coffee she had brought him. The parabatai rune on his arm was noticeable as he reached out to take the cup from her.
She looked away, choosing to look instead at her now empty hands.
They had become parabatai during Dru's absence, it made sense really, and it probably made even more since back then. Still, since she came back she couldn't help but feel distant from the two of them. Maybe because they had moved on without her, or because she had found herself caught up with so much that she just couldn't see them as much.
In reality though, it was because she had been jealous. They had been the first piece of her life she had started to put together on her own, who she wasn't just one of the 'kids' to, but a best friend. Somehow, the fact that the two of them had chosen each other in a way they could only do once over her had affected how she viewed that friendship.
She knew that wasn't fair, parabatai were special, unique, not everyone had one, but the fact was that no one felt that way about her.
She motioned in the direction of the infirmary."I know it's not serious but it matters to me. I feel like I hardly see you guys anymore and when I do this happens."
"If this worries you, can you imagine what it was like for us when you disappeared for months?"He laughed, trying to tease her.
Dru didn't find it as funny.
"I didn't mean it like that," he corrected after seeing the look on her face. "I just meant that we learned we couldn't always be there for you either, that's how it has to be right now."
Dru wasn't so sure this was as temporary as Mason thought, but she also knew she was the only one who probably felt isolated.
"Do you really think we're ready for all of this?" She asked quietly.
Mason looked at her with surprise at the doubt in her voice. Looking down at the cup in his hands, his bangs falling into his eyes, he stared into the coffee. "I know I won't ever feel like I'm enough, I've always known that. It's why I guess I've always gravitated towards people who were naturally skilled like Kit, or even your brother. But I know I can't wait around for something that will never happen." He glanced at her, " Can I tell you something?"
"What is it?" She asked, curiously.
"When Mia first asked me to be her parabatai I turned her down."
"I didn't know that," She said, it was weird that she had never thought of them that way until it had happened. But in hindsight it made perfect sense, and she knew Mason loved Mia, it was hard to imagine him refusing her. "She never told me that."
"I didn't think she would," a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. "I was so terrified I would let her down if I was the one meant to be protecting her. I was afraid she would get killed because of me."
No one was harder on Mason than himself. It never made sense to Dru as to why he felt that way. He may not be exceptional in skill, but his form was flawless, and no one practiced with more discipline then he did. He was attentive if anything, and would make a great parabatai.
"What made you change your mind?"
He shrugged, "I realized after coming here with her that I would always be there to protect her in battle anyways, and I knew she intended to do the same for me, so I knew then my decision really didn't matter," he laughed.
"So," her words became small and uncertain again, "you're saying it just doesn't matter."
Mason fell quiet again, it wasn't like him, but Dru knew it was only because he was reacting to her mood. He probably had no idea what to say to her anymore, she didn't know what she had wanted him to say either.
"I guess I am."
She sat there trying to figure out why she felt miles away from everyone when she was sitting next to one of her best friends. Had time changed her so much, or were they moving apart that quickly?
Either way, it was at least clear that Mia and Mason would be moving forward together, but as far as herself went, she didn't know where she stood anymore.
In the past she had always thought that it was her youth and lack of responsibilities that forced her on the outside of everything, but even when she found herself at the heart of it all she was still alone in the center of a crowd.
8888888
"It did not happen like that!" Mia protested, shooting upright in her bed.
Mia had woken up and found them outside the room, and pulled them in to sit and keep her company.
More color returned to her face as she blushed at the comment, the pulse on her neck noticeably beating angrily from underneath the bandage.
"It happened exactly like that," Mason argued, nodding wisely. "Kit asked if you had a stele on you, and you handed him a spoon you didn't know you put in your weapons belt from the other night when I caught you sleep walking again."
Dru laughed, hearing the story for the first time. "What did he say to that?"
Mia covered her blushing face, peeking out through her fingers. Just, 'um..okay.."
"And then he stood there holding it in confusion," Mason finished.
She threw her hands in her lap looking completely betrayed by her parabatai. "Should I mention your latest attempts at flirting? Remember Lena? Remember that time you were staring at her so hard during a briefing that you forgot to breathe and everyone noticed because you turned blue?"
Mason looked panicked at Mia's retaliation, "Why don't we make fun of Dru? We haven't made fun of her crushes in forever!" He complained.
Dru was saved from that awkwardness when Mark came running into the room, taking away any suspension of disbelief she had pretending they were back at the academy together.
She was immediately on her feet when a Faerie with light pink skin and dark eyes came running in behind Mark.
"Dru, this is Nealon from the Downworlder Shadowhunter alliance," Mark started saying.
Nealon regarded her seriously as he gave her his attention.
Her talks with friends and plans of dates and reminiscing fell from her mind as reality snapped back into place in an instant.
"The one you sent to the Seelie Court?" She asked Mark. The idea of sending a spy wasn't one she really expected to pay off, it was more of something she came up with to keep the rebels satisfied that they were doing something so they didn't try anything drastic. Not that that meant she wouldn't accept a win.
"This is Drusilla Blackthorn?" His voice was a calm whisper but his body a tightly held coil.
Mark nodded, "my sister, the one who requested someone for the mission."
Dru tried not to look embarrassed at the pride in her older brother's voice.
"Fortudious," the faerie said without hint of sarcasm or relief, making it hard to detect her tone. "I was ordered to give this to Drusilla Blackthorn of the Los Angeles institute, and her alone."
The question on her tongue died as he handed her a familiar well worn Codex.
Her fingers touched the warn leather and, inhaled a sharp breath, "Ash."
Just those soft spoken words alone were enough to erupt the room into chaos.
Mason practically jumped to his feet to try to get a better look at the book before realizing Mia was straining herself to get out of bed, promptly turning back around to restrain her to the bed.
Mark immediately flew into questioning the faerie who looked very checked out of the situation, a dreamy expression lifted his features as he found his task at an end. An air of sleepiness replaced the serious one.
But Dru was just fixated on the book in front of her. Her heart thudded heavily as she remembered their last meeting and what kind of message might be waiting for her. Carefully, she opened the book, her hands flying over the page until she found the one she wanted.
Just like she hoped, he had left her message underneath the one she wrote for him.
Eyes growing wide as she read his familiar handwriting, she re-reading it several times as the message sunk in.
Her voice trembled as she lifted her head, and asked, "where's Julian?"
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888
People were filing out of the room into a conjoining chamber down the hall. Kit let himself drag behind so he could work.
He slipped the small mirror out of his pocket, using it to discreetly look at the doorway behind him.
Only the doorman was left, and just down the hall from him Kit noticed an old fashioned dumbwaiter, the kind used to transport food between floors by pulling on a rope.
Kit whispered his findings loud enough for only Jaime to pick up."There's a dumbwaiter I bet you could sneak inside and pull yourself upstairs,"
"And how am I supposed to get to it? I'm outside, remember?"
"There were windows leading to a basement around the building, I bet you can take the dumbwaiter from there to the other floors."
Jaime sighed, unconvinced. "You suck at being backup, what are you even going to be doing while I am trying to crawl through the walls?"
Kit was staying a few feet behind a man with a ridiculously tall top hat. There was a window just in front of them as they waited to enter the chamber, shifting his mirror to reflect the man's image from the window he could make sure he wasn't being overheard. "I'm not backup, I'm the leading man which is why I'm in here and you're out there. Something important is happening, I'm going to listen in to figure out what it is."
"I'm sure making yourself the center of attention while your masquerading as someone who isn't even supposed to be here sounds like a good idea somewhere in your head."
"I'm being very subtle," he brushed off before turning towards a man with a distinctively hooked nose who had just noticed him. "Long time no see, Flores, still selling those 'chimeras'?"
Jaime muttered something Kit couldn't quite pick up but sounded a lot like 'show off'.
Stepping foot inside the chamber was like entering another building entirely. It looked more like an undercroft with the stone walls and flagstones, than the prestigious old parliament building they were just in.
The chamber was enormous, he suspected several rooms and walls had been knocked out to make room for it. The only light in the room were the candles placed around a raised platform. Kit could make out a giant magic circle engraved in the stone of the platform, and watched as the wax melted onto the stone, blurring the lines of the circle, wishing he knew more about summoning circles to know if that was a bad thing or not.
But one thing he was sure about was that it was definitely a summoning circle. And judging by the crowd of wealthy occultists who spent years creating a chamber for this purpose, he highly doubted it was for a lesser mantid demon.
Great columns reached up into the ceiling, and when he glanced up he imagined he could see winged beasts roosted in the high arches above them before realizing they were statues of gargoyles poised to look down on them.
There was no music anymore, silence falling in its place as everyone moved to take their place to surround the circle.
A chill raced up his spine, the potency of a spell being prepared prickled the hair on the back of his neck.
Every instinct was telling him he should never have come into this room. He remembered Johnny had always stressed the stupidity of dealing with summoning demons. Growing up in the market the horror stories of summonings that had gone wrong were as common as bedtime stories for a Shadow Market kid.
Even his father with his shady dealings never risked summoning anything himself, that he hired other people to do, and even then it backfired in the end.
The warlock from earlier took her place in front of the circle, raising her gloved hands into the air to command a silence that had already been given to her.
The long train from her suit jacket almost touched the floor like a tail, her hair was pulled back keeping it at bay with jeweled clips that shined blindingly in the darkness.
"Brothers and sisters! Colleagues and scholars, welcome. I see many faces tonight, some who have been agents of Pandemonium since we first heard the call of our Hellish fathers. Some are joining us for the first time."
Her eyes fell over the whole room, but her third eye swiveled around the crowd, focusing on individuals as she spoke, making Kit wish he had more than a mask to hide him when it fell on him.
"Long have we strived to achieve the will of our fathers, to drive out that humanity that has neglected us, held our potential back, so we can create a new world meant for us."
He casted a glance at the mundanes who bought their right to stand at the very front of the circle and peer up at the woman with enraptured excitement.
He had to wonder what they had told their mundane piggy banks the city of Pandemonium was.
Whatever it was, he doubted they were going to get what they paid for.
"A world of magic, a world where we truly may ascend to gods!"
The hungry way they swallowed her words was enough to tell Kit that was the exact pitch they were given. It was typical, it always amazed him how many people kept falling for scams all because they refused to realize if something sounds too good, then it probably is. But on the other hand, that was probably the downfall of having too much money with not enough to spend it on, besides yes men and private islands.
"We waited many a millennia, doing his work until the time the prophecy would be fulfilled, until the veil was ripped thin enough for our Lord to return and summon the Wicked Powers! Tonight you are bestowed the great honor of holding Court with a Prince of Hell!"
888888888888888888888888888888888888888
There were indeed small slits of windows that looked up at the city of London from the ground. Using an opening rune, he tried to cramb himself through the small opening. He was having a hard time getting his torso inside, his legs dangling inside the building as he tried to shimmy himself through the opening, cursing all the while hoping to annoy Kit who had no choice but to listen to him.
He had just taken out one of his daggers to try to pry off the screws attaching the window, when the whole building suddenly lurched.
That was the only way he could describe the whole building pitching forward while the ground surrounding him disappeared, leaving him half suspended in air until pavement slammed once again into his back, the building was still once more.
In the chaos his hands had flown up, the handle of his knife breaking the glass window on top of him.
Disoriented and confused, he brushed the glass off himself, shakily moving to stand back onto the sidewalk.
But this wasn't the sidewalk he had just been on, and it wasn't the same buildings surrounding him either.
He was suddenly in the middle of a metropolis full of tall skyscrapers, tall red arches and houses with curved triangular roofs.
Judging from the new flashing lights of the streets, and a banner written in a foreign language hanging across from an apartment building, it looked like he was in China.
The door to the building with apparent transportation abilities, bursted open and a Warlock wearing a mask came rounding the corner.
He looked to Jaime and the broken window, alerted to the disturbance not because of the teleportation across continents, but because glass shattered.
Jaime ducked down low as the Warlock casted a spell, shooting over his head. Dragging his hand across the ground, he scooped up a handful of glass, chucking it at the unsuspecting Warlock.
The man reacted quickly, waving his hands in front of him to raise a shield the glass pelted off of.
Unfortunately for him, the mask on his face that was already askew from the horns on his forehead, slipped because of the abrupt movement, completely obscuring his vision.
And Jaime, with his devilish luck, didn't wait until it was adjusted to take him out.
88
Fixing the incapacitated Warlocks mask onto his face, Jaime walked through the front door and stuffed the former doorman in the dumbwaiter.
He frowned, even with his arms and legs tucked in, the unconscious Warlock could barely fit inside. He had no idea how Kit expected him to pull himself up from inside there.
With a shrug and a promise to himself to enforce a ban on Kit to prevent him from watching any more stupid action movies that might give him more bad ideas, he closed the dumbwaiter and decided to just take the stairs.
88888888
On the second floor he found several doors that appeared to be magically sealed, and one that he opened up to find filled with hanging curtains. Just white curtains gently wafting in a breezeless and otherwise empty room. It was beyond bizarre, and Jaime decided that even if there was something of value inside, he didn't want anymore.
Finally, he found a room that resembled an entire library and museum stuffed into a study. He let the door creak open as he entered. The room immediately felt stuffy. There were book cases in the middle of the room leaving for very narrow passageways, shelves around the walls were packed with different artifacts, making him wonder if Pandemonium just collected any object they suspected might have magical properties.
The warm red wallpaper of the room was cluttered with mirrors, mounted weaponry, and candles on every inch of the room. Dust mites were visible through the light of the window, making the place feel warm and sleepy.
Jaime still remained cautious as he walked through the room, paying close attention to each artifact he saw.
Scanning the shelves, he found everything from bound tomes, to scrolls, and even ancient looking stone tablets that laid on the bottom shelves collecting dust and cobwebs.
Kit interrupted his concentration, "Stop muttering, I'm trying to hear what's going on."
"And I'm trying to make sure I don't get cursed from the dead sea scrolls over here," he told him.
Kit paused in thought, "I bet the Scholomance has anti curse hazmat suits they use in their cursed warehouses."
Jaime didn't know how to respond to that, and decided he didn't have to. "I think we should have switched places, you can't get much more cursed than death itself trying to kill you."
"Rather have an actual curse then whatever joke turning into a rosebush is supposed to be," Kit replied, unamused.
Jaime scoffed, bending down to examine a dust covered spine when a voice spoke out behind him, jolting him.
"Do you require assistance, sir?"
Jaime jerked his head back, almost knocking into the shelf above him.
Though the room was previously empty, a man in a white robe stood behind him.
His appearance was very noticeable, he was tan, his clothing made of thin linen, a necklace of plated gold hung around his neck. He was giving Jaime a very disinterested once over, the dark eyeliner around his eyes pronounced his scowl.
Jaime was pretty sure his strange appearance was out of place with the well dressed aristocrats down stairs. The glint of a small figurine standing on a shelf to the man's right, caught Jaime's attention. The little golden egyptian statuette was an exact look-alike of the man standing in front of him.
Slowly he asked, "And who are you?"
The man clicked his tongue at the annoying question. "I am Ushabti, I serve the library."
"Of course you do…" His eyes fell from the man back to the statuette, completely convinced now he was speaking with a magical construct instead of a living being.
"Again I will ask you what you seek here," he repeated in a bored voice.
Weighing his options, he decided to just ask what he was looking for. There was no telling how long it would take him to find what he was looking for on his own, if it even existed.
"I'm looking for a copy of The Book of The White."
Ushabti didn't even blink at the request, just sharply pivoted, raising his hand in the air signaling for Jaime to follow him.
Leading him to a section of a wall blocked off by a white sheet, he stopped, unenthusiastically motioning towards it.
He raised his arm, letting his hand hover over the sheet."This is it?"
Ushabti merely examined his finely manicured nails. "I do not see what else it could be, do you?"
Jaime couldn't see anything past the sheet to make a guess.
His fingers slid over the sheet, but before pulling away he hesitated. "And why are you helping me?"
He stopped examining his nails, looking up at him in annoyance, and answered with contemptuous curl to his lips. "I am duty bound to serve the antiquity and knowledge of this study, and thus those who seek it."
Turning back to the sheet, he gripped the cloth and pulled, letting it fall away to reveal a large ornate mirror.
A sharp pulse pushed him from his body as he made contact with the eyes inside the mirror. Staggering backwards, he looked up to find the room had shifted. He was looking at everything from a different angle, at least he thought until he saw himself standing next to Ushabti.
He surged forward, but was stopped as he ran head first into a glass wall. Sharp pain ran through his head as he took a step back.
Bringing his hands up to touch the smooth surface of the glass in front of him, and the realization was actually inside the mirror finally hit him.
Jaime watched in horror as his body looked down at himself in wonder. This stranger lifting his arms up to examine the runes, the weapons on his belt, before turning to grin at the mirror where he was trapped.
"It's happened, it's finally happened! I have a body again!" He whooped, Ushabti standing next to him looked less thrilled and more bored by the routine.
"Remember, you serve Pandemonium now," Ushabti told him.
"Sure, yeah I know that, but first I have to pay off that debt to lord Hozen," he turned his head to look around the room, eyeing the different artifacts.
"Who is undoubtedly dead after a century," Ushabti detried him.
Jaime watched his body slump in confusion, all the while he was boiling with rage.
"You said you served those who came seeking things! Why did you trap me?" He yelled, banging his fists against the glass.
Ushabti gave him a smug smile, "What I told you is true, but I neglected to mention I am strictly bound to the members of Pandemonium."
The man in Jaime's body laughed before remembering his situation. "I'll have to start all over again," looking down at his body he frowned, "as this strange brown tattooed man."
That was about all he could take, "No, no, no, no, I refuse, you don't get to have my body!" Jaime pointed angrily as if that could reverse the spell. He rounded on Ushabti, "Give me my body back!"
They both stared at him like he was being melodramatic.
"When someone else looks into the mirror you can have their body," he explained in a way that made it sound as if Jaime was being the unreasonable one.
"It's only fair you serve your time as I did! I suffered for a hundred years in that mirror, it's my turn to have a body!" His body declared.
He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated by the insanity of this. "No dumbass who gets himself stuck in a mirror for a century is going to walk around in my body! Get out!"
"Look who's talking," he mocked.
Jaime was starting to see for the first time what Kit meant when he said he had a punchable face.
"How does someone who doesn't even know what a Shadowhunter is get himself trapped in a secret Downworlder society?"
"Shadowhunter," he mumbled, "is that why my skin looks burnt?"
"I'm Mexican! What even are you?!"
"He was trying to steal the Necronomicon," Ushabti answered looking bored.
Jaime rounded on the man in his body. "That's a spell book, a really cursed one, why would you need that?"
He shrugged. "I figured it would be expensive enough to appease my debts."
Jaime stared dumbfounded, pulling at the skin below his eyes. This guy was an idiot, he would get him killed as soon as he stepped foot outside the door. "You could have just grabbed anything and instead you specifically sought out the super cursed spell book?"
His body turned indignant at the insult. "I don't have to sit here and listen to you, I have a life to live now." He pulled out the earpiece and microphone, "and I don't have to listen to whatever this is either."
"Don't!-"
But he wasn't listening to him, throwing the wires on the ground, and stopped on the earpiece, crushing it. Next, he started unlatching his weapons belt and discarding it.
"And I don't need to be wearing an armoury either." He reached behind him to pull Durendal from the sheath strapped to his back. His eyes sparkled as he laid eyes on the metal as sleek as moonlight.
Jaime held his breath as he watched Durendal with anticipation, the blade winking out of existence just as he tried to bring it to eye level.
He smiled, Durendal was no fool, and it would not let itself be wielded by an idiot who got himself trapped inside a mirror.
So, he was more than a little surprised when miraculously, it returned to his hand. He stared down at the blade waiting patiently in his hand for him to wield him. For a moment he was convinced that the sword would finally disappear, that Durendal's choice to stay with him had been a mistake after all.
But still, it chose to come back to him.
It was beyond him to comprehend what the sword still found worthy about him. Especially with his curse corrupting his decisions, when everytime he decided to act like a Shadowhunter painful thorns started to blossom under his skin.
He grinned madly up at his body and Ushabti who watched him in astonishment.
"It is just a reflection, the glass cannot be broken by mere force alone-"
Jaime thrusted Durendal into the glass like a battering ram.
The magic of two unbreakable forces ran up his arms, threatening to splinter his bones apart. The mirror reverberated with the force, as cracks began to form around Durendal's point.
Small fissures broke from the impact point at first before large cracks fractured the glass in front of him.
Jaime heaved forward, piercing his blade further while he slammed his shoulder into the glass.
The same strange sensation of being pushed from one space into another toppled his consciousness over, when it came back he was standing in front of the mirror, Ushabti at his side, and shards of glass at his feet.
With a satisfied chuckle, Jaime raised the blade thrumming in his hand to Ushabti's throat. "Do you want to finish what you were saying?"
Ushabti's surprise turned into a glare.
Jaime took a risk and looked down at the shards of the mirror around him, but nothing was unusual about the reflection in the image. "Where did he go?"
There was no one looking back at him in the shards of glass, just the room from different angles.
"Back to his original body, I suspect, which in his case means he is dead."
He felt sorry at first about the person he had accidentally killed until he remembered he tried to body snatch him like a game of musical chairs, and was instead filled with spiteful pleasure that he got what he deserved.
Jaime turned his attention back to the library's construct, "Let's try this again, without the games. Where is the Book of the White?"
88888888888888888888888888888888888
New arrivals, from what Kit could tell, wandered into the chamber. All the while as they waited the Warlock kept her hands held aloft as if to summon magical energy from the members in the room.
As the trickle of new members entering the chamber ceased, she lowered her arms. Serenely, she produced a knife with magic, removing the glove of her other hand, she brought the knife down and sliced a deep cut into her palm.
Thick blood poured from her wound, dripping into a small trench cut around the summoning circle. The blood touching the black material caused an eruption of flames, instantly leaping to life tall enough to obscure the Warlock and the circle.
Her chanting filled the air around them, rising in power, entwining with the smoke climbing towards the ceiling. Strange runes and images of demonic faces formed around the smoke as the Warlock's words emboldened it with more power.
Caliburn began to shake in it's sheath, Kit braced his hand over the hilt to still it, only to feel a sensation jump from the blade to his arm.
A sensation that felt more like a call.
"Jaime, I think we should go," he whispered, a feeling of dread blossoming in his chest.
The sound that came from the other end sounded like panic, Kit would be more concerned about that if a wave of air didn't just clear through the room, a loud ominous sigh echoing through the chamber.
A dark chuckle erupted from the circle, a shadowy figure stood framed amongst the cloak of smoke.
Kit stood frozen in awe as the Greater Demon emerged into view.
The fire spat black flames as the smoke turned to a burning steam on the demon's skin. Bronze eyes as hot as Hell stood out against the dark hair falling in his face.
The grip on his sword tightened, and he no longer knew if it was him or the sword that was shaking. Primal fear wrestled to take control of his body, the Shadowhunter part of him screamed at him
"Agents of Pandemonium, our time has come." He extended his arms, long black claws scratched the air around him, the sound of clopping could be heard as he took a step towards the audience.
Kit saw a few mundanes react on instinct, taking a step back from the approaching demon.
The Warlock woman walked around the circle to bow down in front of him. Kit couldn't help but keep his eyes on how close she was to crossing into the circle.
"My Lord? Why do you only appear to us as a projection? Has your body still not been restored?" She questioned.
"This is my own doing, my body and presence is needed elsewhere. I have chosen to merely project my presence," he answered.
" I- I apologize on behalf of myself and my colleagues for our failure to restore your true form in the past, our experiments were… unsuccessful." Her shoulders were shaking.
Sammael brought a long claw up to scratch at his face thoughtfully, "But successful enough to create the ideal vessel for the Wicked Powers."
She visibly relaxed at his words, but he wasn't done stretching out her suspense yet.
"It is true, however, if the veil between this world and my domain of the dead hadn't been torn so thin by coincidence, your efforts might have all been for naught." He let the condemnation hang in the air as everyone tensed in anticipation.
Kit's thoughts turned inwards as he questioned what he just heard, the veil had been ripped thin by coincidence, but was it really? His thoughts turned towards Ty, but immediately rejected the idea. It couldn't be connected, the price was heavy enough as it was.
A shiver ran through the members as Sammael let out a low hiss that carried through the room. "I suppose you have achieved your purpose well enough, once the Wicked Powers is ours we will open the powers of Pandemonium to this world. Soon demons will no longer disappear to the Void, those of demonic blood will experience extraordinary healing, and those of inferior blood will perish."
Kit remained motionless, his body around him felt vague and unimportant, turning cold at the revelation. That was the power that ran through him, the same power he had been tapping into to keep himself alive that same power could destroy everything.
That dark abyss within himself he had always been too afraid to stand too close to called back to him now. The darkness waiting for him finally had a name, as the powers of the Void tried to reach for him.
Even with the knowledge there was yet another prophecy he hadn't heard about didn't help him understand how the First Heir's powers were so strongly connected to the demon realms.
He looked back up at the gloating demon in front of him, and remembered that he was the common ancestor of all Faeries, just as him and Lilith were for Warlocks.
Thinking of the powers he knew that he and Ash shared thus far revealed a new connection he didn't see before. Teleportation must be related to the demons ability to travel dimensions. Kit tried not to wonder if that meant he could push his powers that far. His body had healed itself rapidly, like demons in recovering in the Void, and Kit had no doubt that a Prince of Hell had the power to compel and command lesser demons to their will.
A few of the mundanes in front started to break out in hushed whispers, the rest of the members began to encircle around them.
Kit had the feeling things were about to get bad and quick, but he had long since stopped paying Jaime any attention on the other end, and now he couldn't hear him at all.
Appearing to notice the downworlders enclosing around them, one of the mundanes looked up and addressed Sammael and the Warlock. "Magister, my Lord, this is not what we were promised. If the Wicked Powers are indeed summoned, how would we survive?"
A smile of pointed teeth and terrible promise spread across the Greater Demon's face. "Bring them forward, and they shall receive their reward."
Kit slipped away behind a pillar as the Warlocks bounded the mundanes with magic and forced them up the stone platform.
The men yelled out in protest but no one gave them any courtesy anymore.
It seemed obvious to Kit, and was finally dawning on the mundanes, that Pandemonium no longer expected to require their funds.
"Jaime, we have to leave now!" he hissed into the microphone, but there was no answer.
He swore under his breath as he peered around the corner of the pillar.
One by one the mundanes were pushed into the circle with the demon. Sammael, lifted his hand and forced one long claw down their throats. The mundanes spasmed in pain, their eyes turning to the color of black ichor as the color is drained from their skin, thin spidery black lines traced their veins.
Drained to blackened corpses, they collapsed, one after another.
It shouldn't have been surprising that the demon had mislead everyone about how much of his power he had chosen to project, but it didn't make it less shocking.
Sammael brought his claw still dripping in the men's blood, and licked it. "As sinful and corrupted as the human soul is, it always amuses me how their bodies collapse when that humanity is drained from them," he mused to himself.
Kit turned back around to look for the exit to the chamber. It wasn't that far, but that didn't mean he could slip out without anyone noticing. There was also the fact that he couldn't teleport without the light giving him away, neither could he teleport to Jaime without knowing where he was.
"If this is your idea of getting me back for ignoring you earlier, then it's really bad timing," he tried to get Jaime to speak to him again.
"What must we do to help our fathers make the powers of the Void a reality on this plane?" The three eyed woman's voice rang out like a zealous plea.
"There is one thing left to be done, the vessel of the Wicked Powers must be found, the boy called Kit Rook must be brought before me. Seek him out, bring him to me, and you will know powers beyond any this earthly plane has seen."
Kit's heart stopped, he heard the shuffling of people behind him, the murmur that broke out amongst the crowd.
He didn't need to turn around to know the cult was now advancing on him.
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
The Counsel had been generous enough to indulge Ty on his questions regarding his former case, pulling out the files he had on The Mortal Instruments and any reports on Idris. Ty had been going over the case and the progress it had made, offering any details he could on the matter, Alec supplementing with questions of his own.
He was as relieved as he was surprised that Alec was taking him seriously. The stress coiled in his muscles lessened as he focused his energy on something he could actively contribute to.
"Thank you for allowing me to give my input," he told him.
Alec smiled, putting the papers back into their files. "I'm honestly glad to have it. You have incredible insight, Tiberius."
Ty couldn't help but smile at the compliment and the recognition of a high ranking Clave official.
"I heard you wanted to go to the Scholomance. Jace actually said Kit did too," Alec continued. "The two of you remind me a little of Jace and me when we were younger."
"We're not parabatai," Ty hastily answered.
Alec paused his shuffling of papers, "Would that be a bad thing?"
He made a face as he thought of his brother and Emma in their giant form, and the consequences they were already dealing with. "The rules of parabatai are very clear, as well as the devastating consequences of ignoring those laws."
Alec looked up like surprise, Ty didn't know if it was from his comment or the dire way he had spoken it. The long pause made the blood rush to Ty's cheeks at the implication of his and Kit's relationship his comment must have implied.
The Counsel shuffled a little in his seat, Ty could count the wrinkles on his shirt that had formed from hunching over his desk. "Oh, that's okay too, if that's how you feel, and of course you made the right decision," finally he said.
"I know it is, that was never a question," Ty responded firmly at the odd statement.
His eyes widened, letting a hand run through his hair. "I guess what I mean to say is that it always surprises me when someone, especially a Shadowhunter, can easily admit their sexuality," Alec's face turned an uncomfortable red. "It took me a long time to be that comfortable with myself, sometimes it still surprises people when I introduce Magnus as my husband."
"I never understood why some people believe basic facts about yourself should make you ashamed," Ty began. "Many people haven't liked that I'm different either, but I'm not going to base how I feel about myself on other people's opinions."
Alec shook his head, but Ty didn't think this meant he was disapproving. "I wish I had your confidence when I was your age."
Feeling flustered at the praise he didn't have a response to his, he averted his gaze to a map of Idris framed on the wall. It was clearly decorative, unlike the long map laying on a dresser that looked to be a detailed layout and blueprint of Alicante.
Ty burned with curiosity to have a look at it, but couldn't decide if that would be too imposing to ask.
Both of them fell under a silence that seemed to be brought on by neither of them knowing how to continue the conversation, when a hurried looking Magnus bursted open the door, carrying a piece of parchment in his hands.
His eyes immediately sought him out instead of his husband's. "Ty, where is Kit?"
Magnus body language denoted urgency, and he responded by jumping to his feet before he even responded.
"He's with Jaime, investigating the Pandemonium Club."
The Warlock's eyes flashed as he shared a look with his husband. "That is a name I haven't heard in quite some time."
"Jaime believes the Cohort has connections with them," he quickly explained, "Why? Have you heard from Kit?"
Magnus looked down at the parchment in his hand. A dark elegant scrawl could be seen through the thin material. "I just received a message from Tessa and Jem stating that Kit has shown up on their doorstep, but from what I understand he has yet to decide to return to them."
Ty's heart dropped at the only logical assumption of what had happened. "It's the Kit from Thule," he blanched. "I-I told him about Jem and Tessa."
Alec leaned over his desk, "Is this Kit dangerous?"
Looking between the two of them he could only reply in urgency with, "They may be in trouble, Kit too if he has the connections to Pandemonium like we have expected."
"Where is this mission?" Magnus asked, while Alec pulled a bow and a quiver of arrows from somewhere in the room.
"I don't know but-" they never spoke the location they were going to, and Ty doubted a tracking rune would suffice when they could be any distance away.
Ty was not in full gear, but he did have on a weapons belt, and the staff of Crann Bethadh. Kit had given the pentacle and the cup to Kieran for safe keeping, but he kept Caliburn for himself, and allowed Ty to hold onto the staff. A few of his nights at the institute had been devoted to trying to figure out it's secrets, and the specific magic that was unique to it. He discovered that like the tree it was carved from, it had an affinity for other dimensions. Ty had used it once to look into Thule, and had discovered with several tests on the rebels, that the staff could even locate people and things from another world.
But neither Jaime or Kit were from another world. The thought then occurred to him that Caliburn might be. Kit was told it was a sword of death, but if it was from the otherside, a land of the dead, that could be considered a different world.
He pulled out the staff, and closed his eyes concentrating on Caliburn. He focused on the details he could recall to bring the image to life, the black blade, the bone hilt, and the hebrew inscribed on the blade that read, 'the poison of God.'
He let the images flood his mind until he could recall it perfectly, then with a fling of his arm, he casted the staff out in front of him.
The magic wasn't flashy, but an image did appeared on the far wall where he had pointed the staff. A mirror of somewhere else reflected a scene of chaos.
"Remind me to ask you another time," Magnus started distractedly, "where you came across such a unique staff."
They all walked closer, squinting their eyes to make sense of the display until they could see the scene clearly.
Kit held Caliburn in his hands while a vampire lashed out at him, somewhere behind him a Warlock tried to catch him in a spell. The room was in chaos, Jaime fought somewhere nearby trying to fight his way to Kit.
Then, bronze warriors erupted onto the scene, dominating the image.
Ty's breath stilled as he watched the Riders of Manann bare down on Kit somewhere far away and unknown to them.
"We have to go to him," his voice shook quietly, but everyone heard it clearly in the silence. "Now! we have to go now!"
Alec turned to Magnus. "Is that going to be enough for you to find them?"
He nodded his head, his hands flying up in front of him as he prepared a spell, "It'll have to do."
Ty stared transfixed until Alec brought a hand down on his shoulder.
The spell broke, the image faded away until it was just a blank wall that no more as held wallpaper then it did Kit's fate.
"He's not alone anymore, I promised you, remember?" He said in what Ty imagined was him trying to sound reassuring.
His trance broke. Tearing his eyes from the wall, he placed the staff on his back, grabbing several knives from his belt in preparation, and responded curtly as his muscles tensed in fear, "I know."
"Ty, the wreath.." Magnus asked in a low voice.
Reflexively, his hand reached up to touch the pocket he had stored his half of the wreath, but had no need to check it. It had become a compulsive behavior to check the flowers, and already knew for certain that they were not wilted yet.
He nodded his head in answer, "I wouldn't be going after him otherwise." But that thought brought the reminder that there may be a time he could not go to Kit. It was a new wave of horror that threatened to choke him if he were to let it, another reminder that their borrowed time was already running out.
