My life is insane right now, I am mentally and physically exhausted, but I'm still somewhat writing in the background. Paragraph by paragraph. This part of this story was pre-written and apparently I didn't realize it, but since I'm both busy and no one's really interested in my reading, I'm not going to be making a lot of writing. Reviews encourage me to write, but for the next month especially, I'm not even getting close to a full night's sleep let alone keeping up with my classes.
Sorry I couldn't make anything for Valentine's day, but I will post some poetry that I was forced to write for my creative writing class over on FictionPress in honor of the holiday.
So yeah. Enjoy
:)
"If in desperate need, yes, we would resort to the consumption of our dead comrades for the sake of survival."
"Mark, you didn't actually need to ask him if you were cannibals," Finnegan sighed.
"Do you know how to cook, Finnegan?" Dru asked.
"Uh, sorta. Got anything in mind? I can't make anything special, but if you have a cookbook, I could follow instructions. Come to think of it, I'm hungry too."
"The pantry's over here. Can we choose something to eat?"
"Um, sure. You'd know your kitchen better than me."
"I want sugar," Tavvy announced.
"Do you guys have anything sugary?" Finn asked.
"We have a bag of sugar," Livvy announced.
"I want a bag of sugar," Tavvy revised.
"You cannot eat a bag of sugar," Finn declared.
"Why not?" Fionn asked innocently.
"Because it's unhealthy."
"Well can I at least make some chocolate milk?" Dru asked.
"Sure."
"Dru can have chocolate milk but I can't have sugar?" Tavvy protested.
"What if we just put him inside a bag of sugar and make him promise not to eat it?" Mark suggested.
"There's no guarantee that he wouldn't eat the whole thing once you've put him inside a bag of sugar. You can't just put a child in a bag of sugar!"
"I see not the problem, Finnegan," Fionn said. "The child just desires to play within sugar."
"Children lie, Fionn. There are no carnivorous trees to threaten him with here."
"I want something to eat still," Livvy announced.
"We can figure something out. Uh…how about grilled cheese? I can manage grilled cheese."
"Can I put syrup on mine?"
"Why would you put syrup on grilled cheese?"
"Because you can put syrup on anything."
He sighed. "Fine, whatever. You can put syrup on it. Where are the pans?"
"Might I attempt to cook, Finnegan?" Mark asked. "I remember learning some recipes before I was taken to Faerie. I would revel at the opportunity to cook like a human again."
"Sure, we can cook together."
"I want breakfast," Dru said. "Pancakes, bacon, and eggs."
"Do you have the stuff for pancakes, bacon, and eggs?"
"Of course we do!"
"Well, choose what you all want from the pantry and fridge and Mark and I will handle things involving the stove."
"Can we have candy?" Livvy asked.
"If you can find some, but limit yourselves!"
Dru, Tavvy, and Livvy got to work in the pantry and the fridge, sifting around and searching for something they'd like to eat. Dru began making her chocolate milk before she remembered to show Finn where they kept the pots and pans. She helped him find some butter, bread, and cheese to make grilled cheese sandwiches. Mark retrieved eggs from the fridge and excitedly prepared to cook them, grabbing a white apron with red hearts on it. Livvy pulled out some Pepsi, which Finn figured was fine for her to have - she was 15, it wasn't like they were forbidden from having Pepsi if they had the drink in the first place. He got out some sour cream since back at the Frisco Institute, some people liked grilled cheese with sour cream. The syrup was already out and also ketchup for some reason. Livvy had found some licorice, sharing a piece with her sister and little brother. Livvy put the licorice away after pulling out a few sticks, but she looked very tempted to get a few more pieces.
Finn caught Tavvy sneaking into the pantry and managed to prevent him from getting a swim in a bag of sugar. Finn placed the sugar bags up on the counter where he could keep an eye on them. He prevented Dru from adding some extra ingredients to her chocolate milk (condiments) before he started making the grilled cheese. He supervised Mark's cooking, finding a lid that he could put over the pan making eggs that would help the eggs cook more evenly. Mark protested that he wanted to flip them in the pan like he'd seen done before, but Finn honestly was scared of eggs going flying across the room or landing on the stove which would require cleaning.
"If all else fails, use the toaster to make toast," Finn sighed. "I've had my fair share of failures, but you really can't go wrong with toast. The toaster does all the work anyway."
With a million things to already keep track of, Finn's mind was going into overdrive, keeping his eyes on all of the Blackthorns - including Mark.
"My Hunter, allow me to assist," Fionn chuckled.
Finnegan jumped, realizing that Fionn was here. He said the first thing that came to mind, hoping that he didn't sound harsh after the fact. "You can help by standing there, looking cute, and not causing trouble. Dru, please do not add Coke to your chocolate milk."
"It's not Coke; it's Pepsi."
"Same difference! What was I saying?"
"I should stand here, looking cute, and prevent trouble," Fionn recalled.
Finnegan felt his throat constrict as he tried to keep his thoughts straight. "I…well, you can also sit down if you want…"
He needed to stop getting distracted by how odd yet cute Fionn looked wearing not only human clothes (although that in it of itself was strangely appealing) but Finnegan's clothes. Nothing fancy like a tux, either, just regular sleepwear.
Well, things weren't going terribly. All things considered, keeping track of the Blackthorns was going okay. Finnegan just wondered how long he'd need to keep this up.
"Guys, please don't rip open the bag of candy. Find some scissors."
-TTOT-
"Thanks, Mat," Laura finished, clicking the button to end the call. "I've got a Necromian on the way."
Max nodded from the other side of the room, holding out five books in front of her with her telekinesis. "Did you know memory demons could transform into entire hurricanes?"
Laura chuckled. "Yes, I knew that. You always seem to forget that I'm far older than you - even as a warlock. And I've got access or partial-omniscience as an Astral."
"Well there's always more to learn about the world. Anyway, I haven't found anything of what Malcolm did to her. Debilitating a memory demon and beating them at their own game isn't easy. It's like Val's entire mind is a bowl of memory porridge; her mind and memories are there, but nothing's clearcut. I'd call it a coma, but with a coma the memories are often just shut down, like turning off after hours in an office building. This is like…she's there, but her consciousness has been put in a blender and there's no way to pull herself together."
Laura moved to sit down next to Max. "There is some kind of magic that's powerful enough to beat mental-based characters at their own game, but it's dark magic. It involves some bad ingredients, witch-like stuff. Most warlocks would avoid such methods because it poisons their own magic in the process. If you use too much witch-like magic, you begin to lose a part of yourself, piece by piece. It can turn mortals into monsters, warlocks into demons. I wonder just what Malcolm has gotten himself into, but if this even has the chance that he got involved with the witches, it means that Malcolm has become a top priority for all Astrals. I'll get the word out about him."
"For now, it doesn't matter what Malcolm's done or did. We need to fix Val."
Laura wrapped an arm over Max's shoulders and used her other hand to take Max's trembling one. "We'll fix her. Your sister's tough. And we all know that Andy will stop at nothing to get her back. Seline will be joining the efforts soon enough, but while we wait for Val, let's get to work on this investigation. If we leave Rios alone for too long, who knows what trouble he'll get into?"
Max sighed, releasing the tension from her body. "Right. Let's focus on stopping this cult. Try and do something a little more mundane than fighting the rest of the gods and worrying about the fate of the world."
"See? That's the spirit."
-TTOT-
Finnegan grabbed his phone when it rang. "Hey, Veon, how are things going over there?"
"Better than they could be, in all honesty. Let's see…Selina's still recovering from the waking of the Astral within - if you feel any fatigue from your parabatai bond, that's probably why - Val's at least stable even if we haven't found a way to snap her out of her daze, and Andy's refrained from killing anything over it. He's a pretty nice guy, but the son of an incubus holds a great deal of power. His father's a pretty unique incubus in the sense that he's a pretty nice person and therefore raised Andy as a good person, but with the power of an Astral of the sun or whatever brewing beneath the surface, I admit that he scares me sometimes."
"What about Mr. Prissy Moth Man?"
Veon snickered. "Falorios has been investigating with Max and Laura on Malcolm, this Sterling guy, and the Guardian. We've found that the info on this Lottery is whispered around the Shadow World if you look innocent enough when investigating. Luckily, Max and Laura aren't very well known in the Shadow World. Andy and Val are a bit more notorious - they run multiple successful businesses, but Laura and Max are well hidden. Max found out that there are two days after the number gets picked before the kill has to happen, and the energy of the death of a supernatural creature powers the spell that makes them all stronger. Most importantly, the leader - this Guardian, shows up for the kill. If you Shadowhunters do your Shadowhunty thing and stalk Sterling till it's his time to die, you might just find out who the Guardian is. I have a feeling that Malcolm might be with him."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, first off, he's trying his damn hardest to mess with our investigation, and since Val was shadowing Malcolm and planning to sneak into his place before she went missing only to show up at the Lottery, he has to have some connection to these people. A powerful warlock helping this man - or woman, we can't be sure - do all this black magic stuff?"
"And how do we know the Guardian isn't Malcolm himself, Veon? I know you want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but…we can't outrule the idea that all of Malcolm's meddling could mean he himself is a part of this. Like you said, a powerful warlock would be just the thing needed for something like this."
"Malcolm has been my friend for centuries. He's gone through a lot of things, as all warlocks do, but I know that he's a good person deep down under. I wouldn't be surprised if he's being lied to or if he's being manipulated or if he's being blackmailed or-"
"Veon, deep breaths. I'm sorry I brought it up, but if we want to know the truth, there's always the possibility that we could question Malcolm himself."
"Considering what happened to Val, I don't think direct confrontation is going to go well. He's too powerful to take lightly, and we can't exactly tell the Clave without revealing our investigation. Malcolm can charm people, and with Max's well-known abilities in manipulating minds and Andy being a son of an incubus, our word isn't going to be trusted with those stuck-up snobs. They're lazy as all get out, and if they can just ignore a problem in the Downworld, the odds are that the higher ups are going to turn a blind eye so long as the killings don't involve them."
"What about Alec and Magnus?"
"I don't want to involve them unless I have to. Magnus and Alec are already under so much pressure with the skeptics talking against uniting the Downworld and Shadowhunters - plus they have a kid on top of all of it."
"I hear you. Well, at least we have a plan. If Emma and Julian can get some lead on where to find Sterling, we'll be one step closer."
"We're researching Sterling now. Falorios has a lot of moth servants scouring for information. He's got a bunch of identities, but Rios has more moths. Way more."
"That's good. Keep me updated on what you find, I'll keep you posted about what we find."
"Finnegan," Mark called.
He looked up to see Mark at the doorway, looking slightly urgent.
"Gotta go. Looking after the Blackthorns."
"Ah, have fun with that. Caterina's been taking my shifts at the Shadowhunter Academy, and I've never realized how relaxing it is without children to look after."
"Looking after children at their home and looking after children at school feel like two very different things. Bye."
"See ya."
Finnegan hung up and hurried over to Mark. "What's happening?"
"Ty fails to respond when I attempt to summon him for lunch. Would it be proper to force my way into his room?"
"Depends on the method of force."
"Breaking down the door?"
"Or…how about Fionn and I just work some magic?"
"Unlock runes are not working on his door. He has sealed it to be immune."
"Well, then it looks like Fionn will have to try with his more powerful runes then."
After teaching Fionn the unlock rune and having him practice drawing it a couple times, he drew the unlock rune on Ty's door, the rune blazing red, and the lock clicked open. They searched around, but Ty didn't appear to be anywhere in his room.
"What are we to do?" Mark asked.
"I don't know," Finnegan shrugged. "I don't know Tiberius well enough to know where he'd be hiding in the Institute."
"Shall we contact Julian Blackthorn?" Fionn suggested.
"Yes. Mark, get to texting him, but we need to head back to the kitchen. How long have the three of them been unsupervised?"
"Approximately seven minutes and forty three seconds," Fionn volunteered.
"Thank you."
Heading back to the kitchen, Finn found that the girls had emptied the fridge, searching for things to put on sandwiches because they were impatient with the grilled cheese. It could've been worse, honestly, so he let them make their sandwiches as they pleased. Finn managed to save one of the grilled cheese, but Mark's eggs had been left for too long and were now burning. Finn gave him permission to make a new batch, but it was not an excuse to now go without the lid to the pan. Tavvy had tried to sneak the sugar bag, but he hadn't been able to open it before Finn noticed its absence and retrieved it from under the table.
"One of you had to have helped him get it," Finn accused. "Now, I'm not Julian, I'm not your parents, and I'm not even Mark, but I hope that I'm enough of an authority figure to be asking for your respect. Which means when I say 'Do not put Tavvy in a bag of sugar,' I expect you to help avoid putting Tavvy in a bag of sugar."
His phone beeped and he pulled it out, finding that Veon had sent him some pictures of maps. Certain areas had red dots marked. Veon texted that they were suspected locations that Sterling had been spotted.
"We should go looking for him," Livvy said.
"Not without informing Julian and Diana."
"I need an excuse to get out of here," she sighed. "Being stuck 'translating' here is boring."
"I'm sorry if Julian cares about your well-being, I really am. But you can't go anywhere without his permission. Sorry. And Fionn, you can't take them anywhere on Zoltan."
"I doubt the steed would allow them access to his services."
"And since you're sixteen, you can't drive anywhere, which limits your mobility."
Mark looked up from the phone in his hands, figuring out how to text Julian. "Is sixteen not a mundane limit upon driving etiquette? You do not have to obey mundane laws. You can drive when you so please - if one is willing to teach and you are willing to listen."
"I learned to drive at thirteen, but I never got to actually use those skills until I was around seventeen," Finnegan shrugged. "Driving isn't that necessary a skill. Portals and horses serve me well. Have you even learned to drive, Mark?"
"Even I have more experience within a mundane vehicle," Fionn muttered.
Finn raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"It is a weary tale of commandeering a van to infiltrate a mundane factory and free cargo of Shadow World origin."
He pronounced 'Van' more like 'Vaan.' Finnegan's heart did a slight leap, realizing that Fionn had a slight accent, hidden by years of practice. He had never noticed it before, but after his dream about Phoenix, he realized that Phoenix had had a Scottish accent - or some kind of accent from a faerie language being his first language. Fionn spoke with less of an American accent than Finnegan had ever noticed. He hit his consonants harder than he really needed to and there was a slight raise in his vowels. Finnegan thought back and deduced that it was a normal thing that he heard from those of Faerie origin, but not just any faeries. Those of a higher class - gentry faeries, and even royalty. Finn blushed when he realized he'd forgotten that Fionn was a prince.
"I am informing Julian of the situation," Mark announced, skillfully evading Fionn's tale of apparently driving a van.
'CAN'T FIND TY'
After a moment, Julian replied - faster than Finn had assumed he would. He must've been looking at his phone when the message had come in. 'DID YOU LOOK IN HIS BEDROOM?'
Mark frowned at the screen and typed, 'DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A BUFFOON? OF COURSE I DID'
"Buffoon?" Finn repeated.
'WHAT DOES LIVVY SAY?'
"Livia!" Mark called. "Where is Tiberius?!"
"Isn't he in his room?"
"No."
"Well then I don't know."
'LIVVY SAYS SHE DOESN'T KNOW'
There was a long pause of waiting before the next message came in. 'LIVVY'S LYING. SHE ALWAYS KNOWS WHERE TY IS. MAKE HER TELL YOU'
Mark went over to Livvy while Finn stayed at the stove, tending to the grilled cheese sandwiches and saving Mark's eggs from meeting the same fate as the previous ones. Mark would later complain about not being able to finish making his eggs and would attempt another batch.
"So, about that story of driving a van," Finnegan smirked.
Fionn accepted a plate with a grilled cheese on it. Since he was immune to all types of heat, Finnegan wasn't worried about him burning himself on the freshly-cooked meal. He volunteered to take the other one which was a little crispier and cool enough for him to eat.
"It shall fail to impress, Finnegan," Fionn insisted, picking up his grilled cheese and studying it carefully. "We did not anticipate the quantity nor weight of our target cargo. Even if Zoltan desired the opportunity to carry the items, he would have no comfortable way to do so. And so we stole away within a van. Mark knew the vehicle would have substantial space, but he had little knowledge of how to operate the contraption. I learned of driving from Wolf. He complained, one day, of being the only one who required a vehicle to traverse human cities. My curiosity resulted in my - if abysmal - knowledge of the gas pedal, the brake pedal, the steering wheel, along with the lines which I needed to follow on the road and the three colored lights."
Finn usually hated crispy toast or bread, but his crunchy sandwich was made slightly better by the image of Fionn attempting to drive with only the knowledge about the pedal that made the vehicle move and the pedal that made it stop.
"Did you even know about the speed limit?"
"Yes," Fionn said defensively. "It became easier with practice. And it was the dead of night, and so very few vehicles were on the road to impede our progress."
"You never drove again?"
"Never. We escaped the city and decided we would be more efficient returning to the Hunt by our own means. We compacted the items to the best of our ability and dragged them with a makeshift sled."
Finnegan laughed.
He noticed that Livvy had run out of the room with Mark hurrying after her. Dru had made another cup of chocolate milk. Finnegan offered some of Mark's non-destroyed eggs while Dru started making some random sandwiches that involved both syrup and ketchup and even the sour cream. He was going to say that it wasn't healthy, but he figured that Dru would learn the hard way that putting every condiment on her sandwich at once wasn't making it taste any better. Tavvy had found a bag of candy and Finnegan agreed to let him choose some pieces so long as he didn't go overboard. Mark returned from chasing after Livvy, but he appeared to be unsuccessful.
"She has locked herself within her room," he announced.
"Tell Julian. It probably means that she knows something, but maybe he knows where Ty could be."
He looked down at his phone screen and began typing, backspacing a few times as he made errors on the touch screen.
'LIVVY WON'T TELL ME ANYTHING. SHE'S LOCKED HERSELF IN HER ROOM. HELP'
'GO OUTSIDE AND LOOK FOR HIM IN THE BACK GARDEN'
"Ty likes animals, doesn't he?" Finnegan pointed out. "He might be out there avoiding us because he's sulking about not being able to go to Rook's."
Mark nodded and typed, 'HEADED OUTSIDE'
Mark headed out, following Julian's advice with his phone at the ready to ask for more help.
Finn sighed. If Ty was actually missing, there was no telling where he could run off to. On the bright side, Finnegan knew for a fact that both Livvy and Ty couldn't drive, so if Ty was attempting to run away, it was likely that Fionn could catch up using Zoltan. He hoped that Mark managed to find Ty out in the gardens, finding another stray animal to bring home just to annoy Julian for making him stay behind.
Finn went searching for a toaster and an electrical outlet in case they needed to resort to toast. Dru asked for brownies, and Finn agreed only because they had boxed brownies and it was practically the one thing he could make that involved an oven.
His phone went off again and the screen flashed 'Warlock.' "Hey, Lock - er, Veon."
"Hey, so update on the whole-"
"Julian will not respond to my messages," Mark called, returning to the kitchen.
Finn moved the mic of the phone away from his mouth but kept Veon's voice in his ear. "Try Emma's phone."
"-and so you should check it out."
"Sorry, say that again."
"We found a suspected location of Sterling's place. Also we've made contact with some death gods who announce that they might be able to help us find the one that's been allowing a necromancer to run free. Necromians are reclusive, but there's one willing to meet you since you're…ya know, you. Blessed or something. He'll meet you outside the LA Institute when you're ready - and trust me, he'll know when you're ready. Since necromancy is so taboo in the world, he'll want to make things quick and just make sure no one is using necromancy for bad reasons."
"I'll investigate it when I can."
"I'm also sending you Sterling's suspected location if you or the other Shadowhunters wanna check it out."
"We'll wait for Julian and Emma to return before we do investigating on any of Sterling's locations, but yeah, send it over just in case."
"Finnegan, Emma has informed me that Ty has been located infiltrating Rook's home and they have secured his safety."
"Go tell Livvy, see if it'll get her out of her room. I'd prefer having all the children in one place, please."
"Location sent, Hunter. Have a party. We'll keep investigating on our end. Oh, and Finnegan?"
"Yeah?"
There was a pause on Veon's end of the phone. "Just…be wary of Malcolm. Andy found out for sure that it was Malcolm's magic that put Val in the state she's in. It's not a coma, but she isn't aware of herself either. I just hope that she isn't some kind of bomb waiting to go off, ready to respond to Malcolm's command the moment he needs her. There's no telling what she could do once she has a single-minded goal."
"We'll be careful until you update us, Ve. Promise."
"Good. Tell Fae hi."
He pointed to the phone and mimicked a wave. Fionn nodded in understanding and waved back.
"He says 'hey' back."
"Call you when we've got more."
Finn thought to the few minutes between his previous calls, but decided to just let it be. He explained to the situation to Fionn once he'd hung up.
"You might meet this Necromian as soon as possible," Fionn said.
"I can't just leave the kids alone. Dru's already risking her life with those sandwiches, and for all I know, Tavvy's going to be sticking a fork in the toaster the moment I look the other way."
"You trust these children to do naught but harm upon themselves?"
Finnegan sighed. "I trust them to handle themselves, I do. They're Shadowhunters, they've grown up faster than regular kids. In this life, you're wielding a knife before you learn to tie your shoes."
"Mark and I shall use our collective knowledge of appeasing children to guard over the Blackthorns to the best of our ability. This meeting shall be succinct, no?"
Finn stared over at Dru, who had abandoned a couple sandwiches in disgust and started over. She'd eaten a couple of eggs. Finn had just finished mixing the batter for brownies, but he hadn't started the oven yet. It would be an ideal time to step away, and it'd only be for a few moments.
"Try not to upset them, but do try to avoid letting them kill themselves. Tell Mark those instructions too and that I'll be right back."
He called to Dru and Tavvy that he'd be back in a second and that Mark and Fionn were in charge until he returned. "I'm just going outside to look for something. I'm not leaving the Institute."
He hurried to the Sanctuary, planning to head outside the Institute, but someone was already waiting for him. Upon first glance, the stranger looked like a punk mundane teenager that had wandered in randomly. He was dressed in all black - skinny jeans, T-shirt, jacket, shoes, and hair. He looked pale as a ghost. He was looking down at a black phone when he noticed Finnegan arrive.
"You're him." His voice was smooth and cold, reminding Finn of the City of Bones for some reason. "Well, I admit I am surprised."
"You're the necromancer god?"
"Necromian. Call me Mat. I know you've been trying to get into contact with one of us, but…well, we don't like people."
"So what brought you to be the exception?"
"I'm not like a lot of my kind. Beyond that, I know about you. You're hailed as a hero of the Ifrit War, but also a harbinger of death. No one knows what to really think of you. I honestly don't care. I just want to protect myself and mine own. You learned to fight the Scourge, you might know the key to reversing it and finding the culprits."
"You put a lot of hope into me, and yet I've just barely begun to learn about the world of Astrals. I barely even know what the Ifrit War is. I know an important and powerful person nearly destroyed the world; I know that Fionn and I were once a part of the battle to save the world and that we died only to return as we are now; I know that there's turmoil in the aftermath of the war with half the Astral realm untrustworthy of anyone who had been affiliated with the corrupted leader."
"It's a war that happened some half a century ago, where one of the founder gods of the Hexatheon was infected by the Scourge and nearly destroyed the world. He wasn't thinking straight, I don't think he had a goal - just destruction. Too many of us in the aftermath are focused on the threat of Ifrit's return, not the true threat of the Scourge and whoever created it. Those in the higher ups aren't willing to acknowledge the witches, but the rest of us down here at the bottom know full well what to avoid to survive. But those who are being hunted by the Hexatheon for being related to the Infernians have it even harder. They have to walk on pins and needles. For the most part, they're left alone, but if they so much as sneeze wrong, they'll be taken in as potential threats. That's no way to live, no way to rule, and all we want is balance and peace to return."
"That sounds…familiar, somehow. After the Dark War, the faerie population was disgraced - even the innocents who had nothing to do with the war. Too many good people were and still are blamed for things they had nothing to do with. Faeries are on edge, Shadowhunters are quick to accuse and condemn, and it's a never-ending spiral of mistrust with innocents caught in the middle."
"That makes sense. Events in the Astral realm often mirror things that will or have happened in the human world. The Civil War, for example. The World Wars. The French Revolution. History often repeats itself, and many of the mistakes made relate to each other. The gods hardly ever change, it's not in our nature. We are concepts, ideas. Though some of the animal Astrals could potentially be wiped to extinction, that doesn't mean they couldn't somehow reemerge if given enough time. Once, this entire planet was nothing but space dust. We were all born out of nothingness, and even if we are reduced to nothingness, we can always come back. In return, we continue to have conflicts like this. Foolish, prejudice, inevitable."
"Why did you agree to help me? If you Necronamicons are so reclusive?"
"Necromians," he corrected with an icy glare, before his face then fell. "I have people that I care for that are at risk. Infernian descendants. My friends. My family. If those of Infernian blood get infected by the Scourge, no one steps up to help them. Most of our kind just keep getting pushed further and further into buying the stupid story that the Infernians are the source of the remaining Scourge - that Ifrit surviving was the only reason the Scourge still plagues our people and destroying or containing all of his creations is the only way to save us all. For every Infernian descendant that falls victim, we lose more and more morale. If a non-Infernian is infected, the Infernians are still blamed just because of proximity.
"They can't fight against the Scourge any better than the other Astrals, so all they can do is hide, try to make themselves as invisible as possible, and pray to whatever higher powers that exist - and we're gods, so praying to higher beings is a shameful feat - to please avoid the Scourge in all forms, whether it be being infected or being kicked out of their homes because they're blamed for cases of it. I've always been a hermit, as a Necromian, but I've never wished my fate upon others. To have to constantly hide, knowing your presence makes people uncomfortable, learning to prefer to be alone in the shadows…I've seen so many bright Astrals darkened. I want it to stop. I just want everything to go back to how it was - simple, easy, where everything and everyone had a place, where there was balance."
"I…I don't know if I can promise that I can be helpful. I barely know what I'm doing."
"But you're still the best chance we have. You gained the blessings of all six of the Hexatheon, and something like that doesn't just go away with death. Even if Phoenix hadn't brought you back, I have a feeling that you still wouldn't be one to fade away so easily. Your soul is now unique, imbued with the powers of the gods without actually being one. Humanity is a powerful thing. A lot of us Astrals are made from humans. Humanity is dangerous, especially when given the powers of the gods. Gods and mortals stay separate, that's how it's meant to be. Even demigods have to survive mostly on their own wit and power, we aren't allowed to interfere that often. You are humanity and gods combined, and that makes you respected and powerful and dangerous. You can change the fate of all Astrals, and I just hope that you use your power to save my people rather than disrupt the balance even further - beyond repair."
He took a deep breath, waving his hand as a bottle of water appeared in his hand. He pulled open the cap and downed the drink with trembling hands. Finn had a feeling that Mat wasn't used to this much talking. Finn knew what it was like to be socially anxious and afraid of saying the wrong things just because he hadn't ever interacted with a new person before. Mat was basically begging for not only his life but the lives of many people he cared for. The balance had been so disrupted that the gods had to resort to begging for salvation. It made Finn's heart ache for them. He wanted to help, somehow. But…
"I fear I'm a little in over my head," Finn admitted. "I barely understand my power or my position. Laura and Rios kept on saying that it wasn't time yet, maybe even saying that I needed to become an Astral myself. I want to help right now, but I still have more to learn about myself and what I'm supposed to be doing. I'm just a Shadowhunter, not an important one, not a memorable one, and I'm not an Astral."
Mat didn't miss a beat in his response. "You found Phoenix. You grew up with Seline watching over you. You are the child of the Oracle. You are far from just a Shadowhunter. You aren't important as a Shadowhunter because you aren't meant to be just a simple Shadowhunter. Nephilim are beneath you. But you aren't arrogant, so I appreciate that. You just need a little confidence, that's all. Anyway, a lot of the Astral world is behind you, so if you're ever in trouble, don't hesitate to scream for help. Most likely, we'll hear silent prayers, too. Just be careful. Some merely follow you because they fear your power or know to respect you, but if they see a sign of weakness-"
"Yeah, yeah, I've lived the life of a Shadowhunter long enough to know how careful I need to be."
Mat nodded. He'd finished off his bottle of water, crushing the plastic between his palms and causing it to completely disappear. "Now, I came because I was told you needed to find a necromancer. I can't find the necromancer directly since I wasn't the one who enacted the spell. A Necromian's power is being summoned one way or another - whether it be through some kind of spell from a book or from a magician, wizard, warlock, or witch who managed to gain the innate ability through some kind of deal. I'll be able to sense it again when the necromancer next uses this power and I'll most likely be able to pinpoint the source, but from what I've managed to gather from the recent cases in the past, it seems that an ancient book was stolen and utilized. We'd nearly forgotten about its existence since it's been so long since it was used. It has many names, but the simplest translation is 'The Black Book' or 'The Black Volume.' Sometimes there's an 'of the Dead' or 'of Death' thrown in at the end."
"This book is faerie in origin, right?"
"Back from before Nephilim existed, yes. It was a dark time in history, back when things were far more chaotic. You might call it a feudal era. It was also a much simpler time. Astrals could walk around freely - as could monsters. I sometimes find myself missing those days. In any case, the book is very old and therefore very powerful. It was built during a destructive time in history when mercy was a rare occurrence, where the only rules were that the weak serve the strong. But most of those spells work the same. Some kind of sacrifice involving a living creature is needed; the more powerful the spell, the more gross the sacrifice. There are things involving the bones of infants. Many infants." Mat looked lost in thought, but it was hard to say if he looked nostalgic or disgusted.
Finn tried not to think too hard about such a thing. "We've found that there's a Lottery involved in this case, where one person is chosen and sacrificed so that a bunch of people get some kind of blessings and get stronger. Sympathetic magic. Any of that ring a bell?"
"Sure, there are plenty of spells like that. Does this chosen sacrifice have to do anything in particular before they die?"
"In what way?"
"Certain spells require the body parts of murderers or maybe people who've cleansed themselves somehow. It's pretty specific, too. If it's that of a murderer, it will often be the hand that did the deed. If it's a virgin, it requires the…well, the organs. If it's someone who's gained enlightenment or some shit, it's usually the brain or the heart."
"We've found bodies that have been burnt and drowned in weird spell circles." Finn dug out his phone and searched to see if he had the pictures. He found them, to his relief, and handed the phone over to Mat. "Recognize any of it?"
"Flame to flood…yes, that does sound familiar. Fire and water together mean it's a powerful spell. I think I know a Necromian who works magic like that - or rather, two of them."
"Can we find them?"
"I'll ask them for details. They're the result of most spells that involve opposite forces being brought together. They're a cute couple, love being symbolic. And if they're the source of this evil, it probably means that they're helping because the necromancy is in the name of love. They've always been suckers for good romance stories - they love to make deals that bring dead loved ones back to life. Worse than Aphrodite, I swear. They're not bad people; they just care a little too much for love stories. When you're immortal gods, I guess it makes sense that watching mortals fall in love to the point that they'd beg for their loved ones even after they've died is a source of entertainment."
Finn sighed and rubbed his eyes. "So basically, we need to find these Necromians to find our necromancer. Meanwhile we're still trying to find this sacrifice before he dies and stop his murder."
"Look on the bright side. If the guy dies and the ritual goes through, I'll be able to pinpoint the source and location of the necromancer and bring them to an instant stop. If we can manage to find out the person's identity beforehand and cut off the source of their power, we can stop the ritual entirely. I'm not the most powerful Necromian out there, but I can track down a rogue necromancer."
"What about when it happens at a convergence?"
"Oh, yeah, that's nothing. Necromians can sense all necromancy, no matter where they are or where it happens. Another Astral might be fooled by a convergence interfering, depending on their connection to all things deathy, but it often comes to us like a dream - it can feel like it's happening longer than it actually is or shorter than it actually is, and though the details of the necromancy are clear during the fact, the details fade pretty quickly if we get distracted by something else. If I focus on locating the next necromantic ritual, I won't forget about it so easily, as long as I'm consciously aware of what I'm looking for."
"Thanks for the help. The faster we resolve this necromancer issue, the faster I can get to helping your Astral realm."
"I appreciate that." It was hard to tell if he had a passive-aggressive undertone. "Tell Phoenix that we're also waiting for him, too. No matter what you do, Phoenix needs to take over the seat of Ifrit on the Hexatheon or we'll never work things out. Come to Faerieland and you'll probably be able to see the effects for yourself, maybe teach Phoenix that he needs to get his butt in gear. You both have followers willing and waiting for your command. Andreaus and Laura are members, so look to them if you need connections from the rest of us. For now, you'd better get back in there with your children."
"They're not my children."
"They're under your care. And I think I smell something burning." Mat smirked. "Good luck with that. I'll come to you when I've talked to my Necromian friends or if we've got more necromancy reports. Toodles."
He waved before melting into a puddle of shadows that seeped into the ground and vanished. Finn sighed. After all that, there still weren't clear answers. Just wait, wait, investigate. He decided all he could do was wait for Emma and Julian to return, compare notes on how to find Sterling, and wait for info on the necromancer. This was starting to get too complicated for him, honestly.
When the LA Institute car drove up, Finn realized just how long he had been speaking with Mat. Crap, Mat had said there was burning. Finn had most likely failed at life and the Blackthorns had killed themselves. He just hoped that Fionn had done some damage control. Ty ran inside first, but Emma and Julian remained outside, speaking to each other. They looked despondent. Finn hurried inside, hoping he could clean up any mess that had been made and maybe salvage the situation.
Yeah, the universe wasn't gonna be that kind to him.
When he reentered the Institute, he started to smell the burning that Mat had mentioned. He rushed to the kitchen, hoping that some burnt food was the only thing that had happened.
"By the gods, I wasn't gone that long!"
It looked as if the kitchen had exploded. The refrigerator had been emptied out, ketchup decorating its once-white surface in scarlet swirls; one of the pantry doors was hanging off its hinges; the Costco tub of maple syrup had apparently been emptied onto almost every available surface; the massive bag of powdered sugar had been torn open and Tavvy was sitting inside it, completely covered in white powder which made him look like a tiny abominable snowman. Someone must have tried cooking, since there were multiple pans on the stove that had been added, filled with burned substances that were pouring smoke into the air. The flames were still on, and Fionn appeared to be trying to figure out how to turn them off by reaching into the stove fires and poking around. Bags of candy had been ripped open and littered the floor; Dru was sitting on the counter, poking at a glass of something foul looking that definitely wasn't just chocolate milk and humming happily to herself; Livvy was curled up on one of the bench seats, giggling, a stick of licorice in her hand, and Ty was beside her, licking a speck of sugar from the back of his wrist.
Julian's kitchen - which he'd stocked with food for five years, kept clean and cooked in, made pancakes in - was destroyed.
Finnegan sprinted over to help Fionn turn off the stove. "For Raziel's sake…"
"My apologies, Finnegan," Fionn said. "I failed to comprehend their ill intent before…something exploded."
Finn looked up at Fionn and realized that he was covered in syrup and sugar. Based on the splatter patterns, he wasn't facing whoever or whatever doused him in syrup, and the sugar had been thrown at him from the front probably to blind him. Actually, there might've been other condiments thrown on him that Finn couldn't identify underneath the syrup and sugar. The bottom corner of his shirt had been singed, but Finnegan knew that the faerie himself was immune to heat and fire. Admittedly, seeing him in Finn's clothes while covered in condiments made laughter bubble up in Finn's stomach despite the dire situation.
"You need a bath. For now, I need my violin and a large bowl to clean this up with."
He hurried to find where he'd set his seraph violin while he made Fionn search for a large mixing bowl. When he returned, it appeared that Julian and Emma had found the mess. Finnegan winced, ready for a lecture from Julian about how he'd let this happen. Fionn was hanging his head with guilt as he explained how their cooking experience had gone wrong, and Finn rushed in to save Fionn.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't think leaving them alone for a few minutes would hurt and then it turned into a few more minutes and I came back to this, but I can fix it if I just-"
Julian and Emma's attention was drawn to the pantry as Mark emerged wearing his white apron with red hearts on it and carrying two pieces of singed bread. "Toast!" he announced happily, before catching sight of Julian and Emma.
There was a silence. Julian appeared to be struggling for words; Emma found herself backing towards the door. She had suddenly remembered the fights Mark and Julian used to have when they were children. They had been vicious and bloody in scope, and Julian had given as good as he got. In fact, sometimes he had given before he got.
Mark raised his eyebrows. "Toast?"
"That's my toast," Ty pointed out.
"Right." Mark crossed the room, side-eyeing Julian as he went. Julian was still wordless, and it looked like poking the teenager would cause him to fall over. "And what do you want on your toast?"
"Pudding," Ty said promptly.
"Pudding?" Julian echoed.
Finn had to admit, when he'd imagined the first word Julian was going to say out loud in this situation, it hadn't been 'pudding.'
"Why not pudding?" Livvy said equably, locating a container of tapioca pudding and handing it to her twin, who began to spoon it onto the bread in measured doses.
Julian turned to Mark. "I thought you said she was locked in her room."
"I told-" Finn began, but Julian held up a hand and cut him off.
"No, I'm asking Mark. Who was graciously left in charge of his siblings while you needed to step out for something important, Finnegan."
Finnegan, despite being half a decade older than Julian, shut his mouth, thoroughly chastised. This was Julian's household, after all. He ran the place, his siblings saw him as an authority figure. Despite the urge to take the blame and start working on fixing the kitchen, he stood silently and waited for the inevitable chaos.
"She came out when you guys texted that you found Ty," Mark supplied.
"There didn't seem to be any reason not to," Livvy said.
"And why is the toaster in the pantry?" Julian asked.
"I couldn't find any other…" Mark seemed to be searching for words. "Electrical outlets."
"And why is Tavvy in a bag of sugar?"
"When I specifically said not to put Tavvy in a bag of sugar," Finnegan added.
"The children questioned if Tavvy was forbidden from a bag of flour," Fionn explained. "You did not ban flour, Finnegan. As such, I attempted to appease them."
"And one of them must've helped Tavvy get the sugar while you were distracted," Finnegan finished. "These children used the faerie logic against him with wordplay. Poor thing. You've raised monsters, Julian."
Julian sighed. "Who helped put Tavvy in the bag of sugar?"
"He really wanted to be in a bag of sugar," Mark replied.
"That doesn't mean you should put him in a bag of sugar." Julian's voice rose. "Or practically destroy the stove. Or let Drusilla drink - what is in that glass, Dru?"
"Chocolate milk," Dru said promptly.
"And?" Finnegan pressed.
"With sour cream and Pepsi."
"Dru, when I approved chocolate milk, this was not what I meant."
Julian sighed. "She shouldn't be drinking that."
"Why not?" Mark untied the apron around his waist and flung it aside. "I do not understand the source of your anger, brother. They're all alive, aren't they?"
"That's a pretty low bar," Julian said. "If I'd realized all you thought you had to do was keep them alive-"
"That's what you said," Mark said, half angry and half bewildered. "You joked about it, you and Finnegan both said they could take care of themselves-"
"They can!" Julian snapped. He'd risen to his full height; he seemed suddenly to tower over Mark, bigger and broader and altogether more adult than his brother. "You're the one causing the chaos! You're their older brother, do you even know what that means? You're meant to take better care of them than this!"
Fionn seemed to tense at Julian's words, as though prepared to jump in front of a train for Mark's sake. "I am partially responsible-"
"No you are not, Fionn! Mark is a Blackthorn; this is his world and his home unlike it is yours - he is in charge of his siblings, and unlike you, should've known better."
"I-"
"And nothing from you, Finnegan. Mark should have been able to handle a few minutes of your absence without the entire kitchen exploding!"
"The kitchen did not self destruct-" Mark corrected but Livvy jumped in to try and prevent the situation from growing worse.
"Julian! It's fine," she said. "We're fine."
This did not quench Julian's wrath. It only seemed to make it worse. "Fine? Fine? Ty sneaked out - and I'll talk to you about that later, Livia - got into Johnny Rook's house, and held his son at knifepoint; Livvy locked herself in her room, and Tavvy is possibly permanently coated in sugar. You've turned Fionn into a faerie dessert, you've disrespected Finnegan as both our guest and your superior - you should be thanking him for his generosity helping us and keeping Mark's secret - and destroyed this kitchen the moment he turned his back attempting to help in the investigation which Mark's freedom to stay here depends on! And as for Dru, we've got about five minutes until she throws up."
"I won't," Dru said, scowling.
"As the humans say, 'Famous last words,'" Fionn muttered.
"I'll clean it," Mark said.
"You don't know how!" Julian was white-faced and furious. Emma had rarely seen him so angry. "You," he said, still looking at Mark, "you used to look after them, but I guess you've forgotten that. I guess you've forgotten how to do anything normal."
"Stop!" Fionn snapped. "Normal is not something you define, Julian Blackthorn! You should never have expected Miach to be everything you wished him to be; you have no right to define who Miach should be and who he is because you want him to be that way! His years within Faerie have made him more than human, more than a Shadowhunter, and more than simply your brother! He is a warrior, he is a faerie of the Wild Hunt, and he is more than just a slave to his bloodline! He is not you! He is not the Mark you once knew! You will not expect of him your own ideal soul!" Fionn's eyes flashed ruby red and his hair sparked and was set ablaze like a candle. "He is his own person, and whether or not that is the person you want of him, you should love him no less or you are not his brother, you are a tyrant and a coward and a son of a bitch and a fucking bastard who deserves to slit his own throat and die!"
"Fionn!" Finnegan snapped.
He had never seen the faerie so angry. He had a feeling that some of his words were based on something personal.
"Fionn Flann," Mark said in a light voice. "Whatever Julian might be, he is not among the cruelty of your brothers."
Fionn took a moment to respond. For a moment, Finn really feared that he'd attack Julian. None of the Blackthorns seemed to know how to react.
"Stop."
It was Tiberius who had spoken. His gray eyes burned in his pale face. His hands were moving at his sides, fluttering. Moth's wings - wings that could hold a knife, could cut a throat. It was unclear whether he was talking to Julian, to Mark, to Fionn, or to the room in general, but Julian froze. Dru sat unmoving; Tavvy had climbed out of the sugar and was gazing at Julian with wide blue-green eyes.
Under the scrutiny of his entire family as well as Fionn's outburst, Finnegan felt a wave of pity for Julian Blackthorn. Perhaps he regretted his words, but Julian didn't have the time to regret. Right now, he had to focus on the safety of his family, and that meant being harsh and scolding them when they were wrong. Unfortunately, that seemed to stir something within Fionn that reminded Finnegan too much of when he had been infected with that curse from before.
"Fionn," Finnegan said. "Fionn."
He reached out and touched the faerie's hand, knowing what he was risking, but knowing that the pain was worth it to snap Fionn out of his rage. Fionn's skin was like a hot iron, but upon contact his fire powers snapped and flickered out like a light switch. Fionn returned to normal, the heat radiating off him cooled, and his mismatched eyes returned.
His face scrunched up in pain, his eye twitched in pain. Beneath his eye, a crack started to form, a scar crawling down his cheek as though fighting its way down. It stopped about an inch down from the center of his eye, like a lightning bolt raw and red. As he began to recompose himself, the scar healed itself, but rather than sealing normally, it darkened to a pencil-thin black line that looked like a painful poison was coursing through him.
"28…" he muttered. "I let it become 28."
"Fionn?" Finnegan asked cautiously.
He rubbed his finger across his new mark. "My apologies. It seems I am not so immune to the Scourge as we predicted."
"Are you okay?"
"No, my Hunter, I am not 'okay.' I may yet be with time." He looked up to Julian. "My apologies for the burden I have placed upon your family, but you cannot expect of Mark the ideal brother you so desire. You cannot expect anything of family. Not within this cruel world. Be not mired in hatred, for hatred shall darken your heart."
Mark was unmoving, his face pale, color striping the high cheekbones that marked out his faerie heritage. There was love in his family's eyes as they looked at Julian, and worry and fear, but Finnegan had to wonder if Julian could see any of it. If all he saw was the children he had given up so much of his life for, happy with someone else. If, like Emma, he looked at the kitchen and remembered how he had taught himself to clean it when he was twelve years old. Taught himself to cook: simple things at first, spaghetti and butter, toast and cheese. A million cheese sandwiches, a million burns on Julian's hands and wrists from the stove and the spatter. The way he'd walked down the path to the highway every few days to accept the grocery delivery, before he could drive. The way he'd dragged and carried all their food back up the hill. Julian on his knees, skinny in jeans and sweatshirt, scrubbing the floor. The kitchen had been designed by his mother, it was a piece of her, but it was also a piece of everything he'd given over the years to his family.
And he would do it again. Of course he would: He loved them that fiercely. The only thing that made Julian angry was fear, fear for his sisters and brothers. He was afraid now. Finnegan watched the look on Julian's face as he registered their resentment of him, their disappointment. The fire seemed to go out of him. He slid down the front of the stove until he was sitting on the floor.
"Jules?" It was Tavvy, white granules coating his hair. He shuffled close and put his arms around Julian's neck.
Julian made an odd sound, and then he pulled his brother in and hugged him fiercely. Sugar sifted down onto his black gear, dusting it with white powder.
The kitchen door opened with a gasp of surprise. They turned and saw Cristina gaping at the mess. "¡Qué desastre!"
It didn't exactly require a translation. Mark cleared his throat and began stacking dirty dishes in the sink. Not so much stacking them as flinging them, really. Livvy went over to help him white Cristina stared.
"Where's Diana?" Emma asked.
"She's home. Malcolm portaled us there and back," Cristina said, not taking her eyes off the charred pots on the stove.
'Be wary of Malcolm.'
Finnegan remembered Veon's warning. So far, Malcolm wasn't intent on giving away that he had ulterior motives, and for now, that meant Malcolm wasn't doing anything to directly harm them. Until Finn had some kind of plan, revealing Malcolm's motives to the Blackthorns wasn't in his best interests for many reasons. They were still kids, and Emma especially was impulsive and a terrible liar. Julian would be able to keep the secret and his poker face was more than ideal, but he already had enough on his shoulders. Until absolutely necessary, Finnegan didn't need to reveal Malcolm had something scheming. Once he knew exactly what Malcolm wanted and was doing, he would make sure to keep the information quiet.
"She said she needed to catch up on sleep," Cristina was saying.
Still holding Tavvy, Julian stood up. There was powdered sugar on his shirt, in his hair, but his face was calm, expressionless. "Sorry about the mess, Cristina."
"It's fine," she said, looking around the room. "It is not my kitchen. Though," she added hastily, "I can help you clean up."
"Mark will clean up," Julian said, without looking at his brother and before Finnegan or Fionn could offer to help. Julian dodged any protests by moving the topic elsewhere. "Did you and Diana find anything out from Malcolm?"
"He had gone to see some warlocks he thought might be able to help," Cristina said. "We talked about Caterina Loss. I've heard of her - she teaches at the Academy sometimes along with Zytaveon, Downworlder studies. Apparently both Malcolm and Diana are good friends with her, so they exchanged a lot of stories I didn't really understand."
"Well, here's what we learned from Rook," Emma offered, and she launched into the story of how they had found an address.
She left out the part where Ty had escaped and almost sliced off Kit Rook's (Johnny Rook's son) head, but no one questioned it. It wasn't really a very important detail, anyway. Finnegan added in what he'd found from his informant and revealed the suspected locations of Sterling that Veon had sent him.
"So basically, someone needs to tail Sterling," Livvy said eagerly when they were done. "Ty and I could do it."
"You can't drive," Emma pointed out. "And we need you here for research."
Livvy made a face. "So we get stuck here reading 'it was many and many a year ago' nine thousand times?"
"There's no reason we can't learn how to drive," Ty said, looking mulish. "Mark was saying, it's not like it matters that we're not sixteen, it's not as if we have to obey mundane laws anyway-"
"Did Mark say that?" Julian said quietly. "Fine. Mark can teach you how to drive."
Mark dropped a plate into the sink with a crash. "Julian-"
"What is it, Mark? Oh, right, you don't actually know how to drive either. And of course teaching someone to drive takes time, but you might not actually be here. Because there's no guarantee you're staying."
Finn could feel Fionn's tense aura beside him as Julian's fire returned. He took his faerie's hand, but Fionn assured him that he was still in control of himself.
"That's not true," Livvy said. "We've practically solved the case-"
"But Mark has a choice." Julian was looking at his older brother over his baby brother's head. His blue-green gaze was a steady fire. "Tell them, Mark. Tell them you're sure you'll choose us."
"Julian-"
Both Fionn and Finnegan began to speak but cut themselves off when they heard the other speaking.
'Promise them,' Julian's eyes were saying. 'Promise them you won't hurt them.'
But Mark could say nothing.
Julian was afraid that his siblings loved Mark too much already. Julian would give up the children he loved to Mark without a murmur, if it was what they wanted - if, as Ty had said, they wanted Mark to take care of them. He would give them up because he loved them, because their happiness was his, because they were his breath and blood. But Mark was his brother too, and he loved him as well. What did you do, what could you do, when what threatened the ones you loved was something else you loved just as much?
"Julian."
To everyone's surprise, it was Arthur Blackthorn, standing in the doorway. He cast a brief, uninterested look over the mess in the kitchen, before zeroing in on his nephew.
"Julian, I need to talk to you about something. Privately."
Faint worry flickered in the back of Julian's eyes. Finn had just enough time to see him nodded to his uncle before his vision swirled.
Finnegan staggered, a wave of exhaustion rolling over him. He quickly grabbed the counter before he fell over. He suddenly felt like he hadn't eaten for the whole day and had just attempted a workout. He saw spots in his eyes and felt a tremble in his muscles as though he had been overworked.
"My Hunter!"
Strong arms were supporting him in an instant. Finnegan had a feeling that Fionn had dropped everything to grab him, which Finn would worry about later.
"What's wrong?" Julian asked.
"Don't tell me you poisoned him with your chocolate milk concoction, Dru," Emma sighed.
"Selina," Finnegan remembered.
"What about her?" Livvy asked.
"Veon told me she was doing something to…'release the Astral within,' as he put it. She'll be fine with a few hours of rest, but the symptoms must be getting through the parabatai bond."
"Such a thing did not occur upon the loss of her status."
"Yeah, well her parabatai bond is stronger as just a regular old Nephilim rather than a…demigod? The process isn't equal both ways. I'll be fine in a few hours."
"You require rest. Our luck is favorable with Julian Blackthorn returning to assume leadership."
Emma's phone buzzed. She pulled it out to investigate. Emma was not as good as Julian when it came to hiding her reactions. Finnegan, despite being dazed, noticed a certain look on her face, confusion, contemplation, and then resolve. He knew Emma well enough so know she had probably come to some mischievous conclusion that others wouldn't approve of.
"Did someone call you?" Julian asked, glancing over at her. He was setting down Tavvy, ruffling his hair, gently pushing him towards Dru, who was looking distinctly green.
"Just Cameron," Emma dismissed.
Julian's eyes shuttered; maybe he was still worried she was going to tell Cameron about Mark. He looked pale. His expression was calm, but Finn could feel a tense misery coming off him in waves. Emma looked tempted to tell Julian about whatever she was going to do, he was her parabatai after all, and he shouldn't be left out on these things. But she couldn't tear him away from his family right now, not when things were so unstable already. Her mind rebelled against the thought in a way she couldn't bring herself to examine too closely.
"Cristina," Emma said, turning to her friend. "Can I talk to you in the hallway?"
With a worried look, Cristina followed Emma out into the corridor.
Fionn helped support Finnegan as he was hauled up by strength he didn't expect from the faerie. Sometimes Finnegan forgot that despite his appearances, Fionn was a hardened warrior who could lift things twice his own weight in the most extreme of conditions. He had admitted before that he had pushed his limits on a regular basis in order to make sure he stayed in shape. Fionn liked a struggle, and Finnegan had a feeling he was uneasy from being so domestic for so long.
"I shall escort you to your room for rest," Fionn said.
He helped Finnegan move out of the kitchen. Finnegan heard Emma asking Cristina to tail Sterling as they passed, and as they grew farther down the corridor, he managed to catch the end of their conversation.
"Don't make me regret lying for you, Emma Carstairs."
Finnegan waited until Fionn had helped set him down on his bed, shoving the duvet over so that he could properly pull it over Finnegan once he'd laid down. Emma thought she was doing the right thing by keeping Julian and Cristina out of her troublemaking, which is why she so easily did everything alone. She was a fool, but she was a fool with good intentions. Problem was, the path to hell was paved with them. Emma would run head-first into dangerous situations and get herself killed because she thought handling a problem on her own was better than giving her trouble to those around her. Emma was dangerous, but she wasn't as dangerous as she believed she was, meaning she ran into situations she couldn't handle and avoided help from those she should accept.
Finnegan dug around for his phone and unlocked it, his fatigue and headache fighting him on every front. He tapped his notifications and found two words, not from a number but from a series of zeros. THE CONVERGENCE. So that's what Emma's phone had told her. Finnegan had been distracted by his condition, Julian's phone had died while he had been texting Mark during their trip, Diana was asleep, Selina was already gone and out of commission. Emma was the only one awake and ready to receive the message.
"Follow her," Finnegan demanded. "She's going to do something stupid. It's the ideal time to go to the convergence - it's sunset, the convergence door will open. If she makes it before the Mantids stir she could get inside at the safest time."
"Why would she flee to the dangers of a cave we have already uncovered?"
"If someone's using the convergence, after they know their Mantid demons were attacked, it means they're trying to draw someone out. Emma needs any evidence she can get to avenge her parents' death. She needs closure so that she can sleep at night. I know what that feeling is. It's horrible, blaming yourself for losing your parents because you weren't strong enough, because you didn't know enough, because you didn't say the right things or act the way you should have. You could have never known what would happen, and yet it doesn't change the fact that you blame yourself, and that this terrible guilt won't leave the pit of your stomach, that nightmares will haunt you and tell you that it's all your fault. You have to stop her, Fionn. She's being stupid, but I know she has her reasons."
Fionn nodded. "I will bring her back, Finnegan. And for the record, I do know what it's like." He leaned down to give Finnegan a light kiss. "Will you be okay until my return?"
He nodded. "I'll manage. I just need some sleep and maybe some food. The Blackthorns are here for if I need them."
"That is the hope," Fionn admitted.
He still didn't fully trust the Blackthorns. As Finnegan was the first Shadowhunter and really the first human in general that he had truly gotten to know, he felt slightly misinformed of the nature of humans. Finnegan was cautious, he was noble, he was strong, he was loving, he was brave, he was wise, he was…well, everything about him reminded Fionn of why he loved this human. The Blackthorns…they were not Finnegan, and while they had their flaws as well as their strengths, he would hardly call them the best of the Shadowhunter world. Granted, he knew there was worse. There were far, far worse.
"I will attempt to escort her away. Should she resist?"
Finnegan waved, struggling to concentrate properly with his splitting migraine. "Don't get into any fights with her. If you do manage to find something, it might not be a useless venture. If you find someone, be more careful. It could be this Guardian guy from the lottery, it could be the one doing all the dark rituals. If either's the case, you'll want to capture them alive, but Emma will most likely want them dead to avenge her parents, regardless of whether she remembers Mark's choice is on the line if we don't bring the perpetrator to Iarlath."
Fionn nodded. "I will do what is necessary."
Finnegan felt he should worry about Fionn's specific response, but he didn't have the energy left to protest. He closed his eyes and tried to relax his body to fall asleep. Fionn kissed his temple before departing.
It seemed that every time Finnegan fell asleep because of his connection to an Astral, his dreams continued to reveal more about his past.
Chapter title: '100 Bad Days' by AJR
