Chapter Three

~The Ghost of London~

Hmm, has the chapter title gotten you mystified? O_o Nice to know. For this chapter, I had to do a fair bit of research on the shadowhunter wikia to uncover each family tree, which was actually extremely interesting… And guess who this ghost happens to be? Come on, have guess! :) Kk, see you in America. Let's do some ghost sightseeing.

Review Responses:

DystopianKitKat: Hmm, maybe he is, maybe he isn't…we'll see…

ink2parchment: Yes, but it's still a little bit complicated… 0_0 Okay, I'm not going to talk about love here…

foxy_heart: You can be sure about the Jessa!

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'.

Clary hated lying, especially when it was to a person who seemed to be able to see straight into your very soul. It had been quite a shock to stumble into Tessa Gray and Brother Zachariah, erm, Zachariah, once again, especially so soon after Los Angeles.

Clary couldn't help but allow her eyes to flick outside every few seconds, wondering whether Tessa or Zachariah had seen her…

"Is Jocelyn here?" Zachariah asked, and Clary's eyes darted back to his. It was so strange to hear his voice, that is, meaning to actually hear it, not hear it in her head… And as if that wasn't weird enough, he also happened to be, well, not exactly hot, but really, extremely, handsome… sort of Asian-based eyes, with little golden and amber flecks through it, and fine, angelic features. Clary felt weird to be thinking that. When she was younger, she probably would have looked at him and seen a beautiful person, perfect to be portrayed in a drawing, but the (what were they, runes? Or scars?) marks along his cheekbones reminded Clary of what he had once been, and she quickly jolted back to answer the question.

"Yeah," she mumbled. "In the library, I think. Sorry, I have to go…" Tessa's steel grey eyes were on her as she half-fell outside, and she ducked around the corner, out of the half-shadowhunter, half-demon's line of sight. Or would it be more simple to say new-breed-of-warlock? Clary rolled her eyes, waiting until she heard the door click shut before running across to the opposite side of the institute, where she had last seen the ghost.

"Jessamine?" She called in a soft whisper. "Jessamine, are you here?"

"Yes, I am here." At first, Clary couldn't see the body of the fine, British voice, and then the misty shape appeared by a rosebush. "Gosh, I truly do hate skulking around outside an institute which isn't mine to watch over."

"Sorry," Clary said guiltily to Jessamine Lovelace, the ghost of exquisite beauty. Clary wasn't entirely sure of the ghost's past, but she had appeared by her window once when Clary had been messing around with new runes, wondering what each one would do. The one that had been burnt down onto her arm was apparently one which allowed the bearer to see (and summon) ghosts. "I just thought that you might be able to help me."

"Oh, what a dreary matter," Jessamine sighed, ruffling her long skirts and tossing her hair. "Well, out with it, then, I suppose, so that I can return to my institute."

"Oh, um, yes," Clary mumbled, delving her hand into her pocket. There was something about Jessamine which made her feel rather inferior, and it was either the way that she spoke in such a cynical tone, or perhaps it was merely her beauty. Or both, Clary supposed as she pulled out the necklace from her pocket. "Does this look familiar to you?" She asked, and Jessamine sighed, before floating over and peering down at the object. And then she reacted in a way that Clary wouldn't have expected at all. The ghost went even paler, nearly fading, her eyes going round, and a hand went to her mouth.

"Where did you get that?" She breathed, and Clary blinked, unsure of the reaction.

"Well, just today this guy came up to the institute and asked for Tessa," she said slowly. "And when Tessa wasn't here, he was sort of shooed away, I think. I was just coming in through the gates at that time, you see, so I didn't hear the whole conversation." Clary frowned as she continued. "When the guy passed me, he gave me this, and said that I had 'best seek advice from an ancient one'." Normally, Jessamine would have scoffed at being referred to as ancient, but she stayed silent now. Clary concluded, "You're a ghost, so I though that you could be pretty old. I mean, from what you're wearing and… yeah…"

"Do you know who Tessa is?" Jessamine asked roughly, and Clary blinked.

"Yeah, she's a warlock, I mean, a new type of one but–"

"No, I mean, do you know who Tessa is?" Jessamine's words made no sense. Clary stared. "What I mean is, do you know, rather than listening to what other people have told you?"

"Well… no." Clary's face felt hot, and she tried to avoid looking directly at the ghost. "Can you… tell me?" Jessamine's face grew so desolate, so regretful.

"It would not be in my place to tell," she said sadly. "You see, when I died, Tessa Gray and I had not exactly been in each other's 'good book'." Clary's mouth fell open.

"So you knew Tessa?"

"Of course I did." Jessamine now sounded offended, back to her old self, which somehow made Clary feel a little bit better. "Now, why don't you run along and ask her yourself, and perhaps she won't hate you very much." Clary ignored the latter part of the sentence, and glanced down at her arm. The rune was fading, and Clary's head shot back up to see that Jessamine had begun to fade away as well.

"No, wait! Don't go!" She exclaimed uselessly, and Jessamine glared at her.

"I'm not going anywhere," she snapped. "You merely will have veiled eyes to the world of the dead. Now, go, little Charlotte, to solve your little mystery."

"Little Charlotte?" Clary asked breathlessly, but she shook her head and hurriedly moved on. "Wait! But how?"

"Well, Tessa is inside right now," Jessamine said with a sigh. She now looked like she had been painted from a drab palette of pale grey water colours. "I am rather certain of that seeing as James Carstairs managed to walk right through me on the way to the door." The ghost touched her stomach sadly. "It is not a very nice experience to be impaled by an arm."

"No, I mean how. I'm not close to Tessa or anything–" Clary cut short. Jessamine had vanished from sight. "God dammit," she muttered. "Why couldn't you have just told me?" But it was too late. Clary didn't want to risk infuriating the ghost by summoning her up immediately, so, exhaling, she slipped the clockwork angel necklace back into her pocket.

Tessa was feeling something that she didn't usually feel. Suspicion. She most certainly was not the most trusting person that you could meet on the street, but nor was she the most dubious. Tessa preferred to think of herself as neutral. Yet, watching Clary outside through the window, watching her seemingly speak to herself was pushing the boundaries just a little bit.

"Tessa." Jocelyn's voice eroded her thoughts, and she spun around sheepishly.

"Yes?" She asked. Jocelyn looked confused.

"You seem awfully distracted," she observed. "Perhaps now isn't really the right time."

"I–" Tessa began, but Maryse Lightwood (God, how that name also managed to burn a hole right through her soul), the current Head of the New York Institute, gave her a look that clearly told her to be quiet. With a small huff, Tessa turned to look out the window again, where Clary had begun to walk away. With a frown on her face, she tried to depict what had been happening down there, and missed Maryse's next words.

"Why, she is a little bubble-headed today, isn't she?" Tessa still managed to catch Maryse remarking, but Jem responded before she could.

"Stepping through the portal was probably a bit disconcerting," he interjected. "The last time she went through one was–"

"Seventy or so years ago," Tessa interrupted, playing along as to not rouse suspicion. "And that portal happened to belong to Magnus Bane, and I suppose that when it comes to portals as such, I lay more trust in him than in James Carstairs." She wore a smile which was vaguely embarrassed to impersonate her role, and earned a slight smirk from Jem, as well as a few stares from Jocelyn and Maryse. "Do continue," she added.

"Well, of course," Maryse muttered. "I take it that you'll be remaining here seeing as you just arrived, so I'll have somebody show you to your room–" she cut off, looking mildly embarrassed. "Assuming that you share a room…" Tessa and Jem had been sharing a room since they'd met up in January that year, when Tessa had first learnt that Jem's bond with the Silent Brothers had been severed. Jem and Tessa exchanged a glance.

The first time that Tessa had seen Alec Lightwood, her breath had been snatched from her body. The resemblance between him and Will had been shocking, and when she had learnt that he was a descendant from Gabriel and Gideon Lightwood, she had been stunned into silence. Alec had not inherited their sandy-brown hair, nor those green-grey eyes, and the only resemblance that she had seen was the tall, lanky frame that Gabriel had had. And then she had nearly hit herself for being such a fool as she remembered that Cecily Herondale had been his great-great-great-grandmother. Yet, when she passed Alec and his sister, Isabelle, in the corridor again, she momentarily forgot who he was and nearly whispered, "Will?" But amended herself before she could utter a single word. Clearly, neither of the Lightwoods knew who she was at first glance, however, Isabelle most definitely recognized Jem. Tessa could still remember Isabelle whispering about Jem being 'hot'. This, she couldn't help but find, was highly amusing.

No words were exchanged except for a short, "Hi," from Alec, a, "Mr. Lightwood, Miss Lightwood," from Jem (still so extremely old-fashioned), a small smile from Tessa, and a grin from Isabelle. Tessa didn't really know either of them, but from what she caught onto, Alec was a rather serious and self-conscious character, whilst Isabelle was quite the opposite. Tessa had learnt that Clary's brother, the megalomaniac from earlier that year, had killed the Lightwoods' younger brother, Max. Tessa knew that it had to have hurt more than when Nate had been killed, as Tessa still saw her brother, or rather, her cousin, as a traitor, though he was still family. However much Tessa tried to forgive him, no matter how many times she said it out loud, she knew that her heart didn't believe her.

"What were you looking at out the window?" Jem asked finally, and Tessa almost visibly slumped.

"I… I myself am not so sure," she sighed. "It seemed as though Clary was outside, having a conversation with nobody, but perhaps I was imagining it and she was doing nothing…"

"Tessa Gray does not 'imagine things'," Jem said teasingly, and Tessa went to elbow him in a rather unladylike manner (though Tessa had begun to forgot what it was to be 'ladylike') but a breathless voice interrupted her.

"T-Tessa?" She looked over to see Clary at the opposite end of the corridor, looking rather ruffled. "Can I speak with you for a minute?" Clary asked, and Tessa glanced over to Jem, who shrugged and gave an encouraging nod before turning and walking down the opposite end of the corridor. Staring after him for a moment, Tessa slowly turned to face the small redhead and put on a friendly smile as she walked to meet her.

"What can I help you with?" She asked, and Clary's face blanched. Tessa felt the smile slip. The two stood in silence momentarily, staring across the corridor at one another.

"I have to ask you something," Clary said finally, and Tessa wondered why she was acting so morose if it was merely a simple question that was worrying her.

"Ask away, then," Tessa said, and Clary opened her mouth as though to speak, but then she closed it again, and she brushed her hair out of her eyes nervously. Tessa felt a small frown building up as she watched Clary's hand slowly begin to move to her pocket. Something burned at her skin, and indistinctively, Tessa felt her own hand move up to touch the clockwork angel at her throat, where it seemed calling her. Her eyes flew wider as her fingers made contact with the angel, because it was ticking again.

Aha, it's ticking again. And it stopped ticking when the angel left, remember? O_O

GAAAAH HISTORY IS REPEATING ITSELF! No, just kidding. That sounds so corny, anyway.

Ooooh, history is repeating itself… DX DX DX And Jessamine has returned, so does that mean that other ghosts might appear as well? Get what I'm implying? AH, SO MANY QUESTIONS! Review and follow The Gray Princess & the Violinist, please! :3

~Black Cat Widow~