~Chapter Two~
Returning to New York
Here we go again. Oh, and I've decided that I want to include Tessa and Jem's eventual marriage in this fic… ;) have I gotten your attention yet?
Review Responses:
ink2parchment: Well, I suppose that you'll find out!
Guest: Yes, I would keep freaking out if I were you, because of what is about to come…
"The thing is," Jocelyn said, her vowels stretching out, "a boy came by today, asking for a 'Theresa Herondale'." Tessa's ears perked there. Few people knew that name.
"What was his name?" She asked, disappointment reigning when Jocelyn responded, "He never said." Her blood ran cold when Jocelyn clarified her statement. "Only told us to inform you that Axel Mortmain is coming."
Mortmain? Tessa stared, shocked into silence. How could Axel Mortmain still be alive? How could anybody still remember about him? He's dead! H-he's long dead, the angel killed him–
"I shall… I–I shall…" words failed Tessa, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jem's dark eyes narrow, but as soon as she looked straight at him, his expression softened, and Tessa managed to say a complete sentence. "I shall r-return home immediately."
"Tessa, you don't have to–" Jocelyn's voice was cut off and Tessa pressed the END CALL. Taking a steadying breath, she glanced over at Jem.
"Jocelyn says that Mortmain is c-c-coming." Memories of the Dark Sisters flowed back through Tessa's mind, memories of the clockwork automatons, and she struggled to remain calm.
"Jocelyn told you that?" Jem asked, his voice abrupt, and Tessa hurriedly shook her head.
"No, what I meant is that somebody turned up at the Institute asking for me," she recounted, "and he said that 'Axel Mortmain is coming'. Jocelyn merely relayed the news to me."
"Well, I can understand why you looked as though you had seen a ghost," Jem said, trying for lightness, though not at all succeeding. He grabbed Tessa's shoulders and turned her to him, forcing her to look him in the eye. "It was probably no more than a practical joke. Somebody who discovered something from the past and decided to pull a stunt."
"How did he find out my name, then?" Tessa whispered. "Nobody remembers nowadays." Jem's expression told her that he had no idea what she was talking about. "I-it was lost to history–"
"What are you talking about, Tessa?" Jem interrupted, clearly bewildered out of his wits. "What do you mean, nobody remembers your name nowadays? If I was to walk up to one of the shadowhunters or warlocks or anybody who grew up in this world, and I asked them whether they knew who Tessa Gray was, they would know. Of course they would!"
"What if you asked them who Theresa Herondale was?" Tessa asked in a low voice. "Would they know then?" Jem's calm face faltered.
"I…" he sounded lost. "How could they have known…" his face hardened. "I suppose that you're right. We should go back."
"You don't have to go back with me," Tessa responded, her fingers twisting and turning the sleeves of her jacket nervously. "You have still got so much to see, don't waste your time. You should at least move on–"
"Tessa, my only desire would be to see the world together," Jem said, the rigidity in his voice fading. Tessa smiled reluctantly. After all of those years, Jem still sounded so sincere, his style of speaking so antiquated compared to modern day people. But then again, she probably spoke the same way. The smile was a confirmation, and glancing around, Jem took Tessa's hand and drew her to a quieter spot of the Opera House, where there was nobody to witness what was about to occur.
Jem drew his stele, and it looked like such an old-fashioned thing, even to Tessa. She had lived in modern day society for so much longer than Jem, and was now fully accustomed to the smooth, almost plastic-y looking steles that were cool to the touch. When Jem had returned to his former state of living – that is, as an ordinary shadowhunter – he had declined keeping any stele that anybody had to offer. In Los Angeles, however, Tessa and Jem had come across Clary Fairchild, Jocelyn's daughter, who had been there for 'personal business' with Jace Herondale (Only God knew what teenager couples would do nowadays as 'personal business', without a chaperon). Clary had instantly offered to create a rune to return to the London Institute, where Jem had left his original stele beneath the floorboards in his old bedroom (Tessa soon learnt that he had gotten the idea from Jessamine when she had hidden a book in Tessa's room many years ago). Tessa had chosen to remain in Los Angeles whilst Jem, Clary and Jace all stepped into the portal, and an elated Jem had returned half an hour later, with his stele.
"Hold this?" Jem asked, proffering his stele, and Tessa took it silently, marveling at the feel of the wood, which had merely been sanded down for a smoother texture, and with this stele, Tessa could still feel the tiniest splinters of wood alone the surface.
"What are you doing?" She asked, curious, as Jem took a piece of folded paper from his pocket.
"Creating a portal to return to New York," was the response, and Jem sounded as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Tessa felt her eyes widen.
"You can create runes?" She whispered, her tone hushed as she watched, mystified, as Jem pressed the paper up against the wall. It had a sketched figure on it, swirling and dark. Jem took the stele back, wearing a grin on his face.
"Of course not," he announced. "Miss Fairchild is unique in that way. I merely asked whether I could have a copy of the rune that she drew when we returned to London, and she was only too happy to put it down for me on paper. A superb drawing hand, too." A smile lit up Tessa's face at the mention of Clary.
"Of course she has one," she said. "She is Jocelyn's daughter, is she not." The smile was replaced by something of betrayal. "But how come you didn't tell me before? You could have just drawn the rune to come to Australia…" Jem, who had been tracing the rune on the wall, had the courtesy to look guilty as he paused in his work.
"I suppose it managed to slip my mind," he said, and drew the final line down, before stepping back and pulling Tessa with him. She looked at him questioningly as they stood several feet away, the runes beginning to glow brightly.
"Why–" She began, but Jem responded to the question before she even managed to say it all.
"Who knows how this rune will react," he said in an elucidative manner. "It is a new one, after all, and is not meant to ever be used. It might not react very… well to my stele, rather than Clary's…" Tessa felt her mood lifting ever so slightly at a sudden thought. She decided to clarify with Jem.
"So it could…?"
"Go 'boom', yes."
"I suppose that we cannot be blamed for sabotaging one of Australia's greatest attractions if we didn't mean to."
Much to Tessa's relief, the rune did not go 'boom', though she still had her suspicions that while she stepped through, then the whole portal with explode on her, thus transferring her to some location unbeknownst to her.
"You should have Magnus teach you how to create a portal," Jem said decisively, folding his arms to observe his handiwork. "Warlocks are the ones who set up portals, after all." Tessa didn't respond. She had only ever been through a portal which belonged to Magnus Bane (the safest that she could think of) when they had travelled from Paris to New York after Will had died. Jem somehow managed to persuade her to travel through his, and with his arm around her shoulders, they stepped through the large doorway. It looked like a bubble that had been dyed a pale blue. Jem didn't let her hesitate as he stepped through, his leg vanishing first, and Tessa, unwilling to be left behind, closed her eyes tight and practically threw herself in after him.
She only opened her eyes when she was certain that she was on solid ground, and as soon as she did so, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She grabbed Jem, who was the only compact figure around, until her vision cleared. They stood outside the New York Institute's gates.
"By the Angel," Jem whispered with an exhaled breath. "It actually worked." Tessa burned holes into the back of his head with her eyes.
"What do you mean by that?" She demanded, and Jem cocked his head as he turned to look at her. The corners of his mouth lifted into a sly grin when he saw Tessa's face.
"Oh, well, you were right to have your doubts," he said, walking forwards to the huge, gothic cathedral. "I myself was silently terrified that we would be incinerated."
"But you were the one who–" Tessa cut off to grind her teeth, but followed Jem inside the gates. With an apologetic smile, one which wouldn't allow Tessa to remain irritated with him, he knocked on the door, and half a second later, no later than when his knuckles began to lift from the door, in the process of coming down for a second knock, the door flew open, and both Jem and Tessa froze, as did the person on the other side of the door.
A redheaded girl of a stature that Tessa could easily call 'petite' stood on the other side of the door, but what stood out for Tessa was the pair of green eyes that were virtually ablaze on her freckled face. After casting a quick martyred face at Jem, Tessa stepped up, a soft smile on her face.
"Clary," she said, and Clary flushed, shoving her hands into her pockets.
"I–" She was positively blushing to the roots of her hair. "Tessa, Brother– I mean, Zachariah." Tessa couldn't help but throw an amused glance over her shoulder at Jem. He was still memorable, as 'Brother Zachariah' among the Americans, which Tessa couldn't really imagine. Her (along with the rest of the long gone generation of London's shadowhunters) case had been the opposite. They had continued to call the former James Carstairs 'Jem', earning much reprimanding from the Silent Brothers, Brother Enoch especially. Now, however, Jem merely smiled his usual friendly smile at Clary, who was backing away from the door to allow their entry. She seemed awfully distracted, her eyes constantly flicking outside.
"Expecting anybody?" Tessa asked, and Clary glanced at her.
"Not really. I mean, yes. Sort of." The girl looked almost terrified out of her wits. Tessa chose not to pry, but couldn't help feeling slightly suspicious.
"Is Jocelyn here?" Jem asked, and Clary, who appeared to be sneaking out the door, straightened and cleared her throat.
"Yeah. In the library, I think," she guessed. "Sorry, I have to go…" With a face that was somewhat crossed between ruefulness and guilt, Clary tripped out the door rather ungracefully, and Jem, with a shrug, closed the door behind her.
"Children will be children," he said serenely, and Tessa allowed herself to dimple, arguing half-heartedly on Clary's behalf, "She's seventeen-years-old, Jem."
"But judging from the maturity levels nowadays," Jem informed her, "you only become an adult when you turn fifty."
"Aren't you kind?" Tessa laughed, and Jem did likewise, but his expression sobered up almost immediately.
"Do you remember what we were doing at seventeen?" He asked, and she simply looked at him, making it clear that she remembered.
"Technically, I was seventeen, and you were eighteen." But despite her light tone, Tessa suddenly felt heavy. Something in her chest felt heavy, that is. That age had been when the two had been engaged, ready to marry so swiftly, racing the clock of Jem's life. But it hadn't been simple. Not when Tessa had still loved Will so much.
"I would do it again," Jem breathed, and Tessa was unsure whether those words had been meant for her or not.
"Come along," she said, avoiding his eye and beginning to walk. "We had better find the library before Jocelyn thinks us deceased for the length of time that we take." Her heart refused to release the load which was weighing it down, though. Jem's words had ensured that. It would never be simple between them, that was certain. No matter how much she loved Jem, even if she ever came to love him more than Will (which she didn't want to think about), Tessa wasn't sure that she would ever be ready to marry again. She wished that Jem hadn't brought the subject up. It didn't matter if there were two names on her heart, one of them belonging to Jem, because the second would never fade either. The one tattooed down to always read 'William Herondale'.
No matter how hard I ship Jessa, Wessa will always have its own nook in my heart. I can't leave Will out of it, okay? Alrighty, prepare yourself for Chapter Three, which will include Clary POV! Review & Follow! Yes, yes, you're welcome.
~Black Cat Widow~