The Mortal Instruments world belongs to Cassandra Clare.
Chapter VI
"Oh. My. God. Will you shut up?" The green demon said in a exasperated tone, "I'm not going to kill you or anything. Actually… maybe. What are you doing in my den?"
Once I quieted down, my mouth wasn't able to produce another sound. The green monster, was in fact not a monster as far as I could tell. He had green light olive green skin, forest green hair and eyes the color of pickle juice, but those were his only abnormalities. Of course this was still all shocking so I remained soundless as I stared at him.
"Look, I know you can talk since you were screaming a second ago! Who are you?" He demanded.
"Harley Siv-Sivea," I stammered, "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to burst in I was just looking for-for something…"
"Well I can tell you there is a slim chance you'll find it down here," he said to me, he looked me up and down,"are you a warlock?"
"Wait, what?" I asked him confused.
"You have purple hair," he said pointed at my head.
"Oh, no," I said clearing my throat, "it's called hair dye."
"You dyed your hair? Another color? Willingly?!" he looked positively confounded by that revelation and began laughing, "what are you?"
"Apparently a Shadowhunter," I responded, saying the last word with a bit of irony.
"Oh, so you're the reason June came bursting in here at 5:40 am to telling me to be MIA for the next couple days. Guess that plans been shot to dust," he said not sounding unhappy about it, "my name is Micah by the way."
"Um, not to be rude-"
"-In my experience, when people say that they are about to say something extremely rude," he said smirking. Ugh, these pompous types were so annoying.
"Okay, to be rude… but why are you green?" I asked him crossing my arms for good measure.
"Well what do you know, I wasn't disappointed! It definitely wasn't a styling choice like your coloring is. It's my warlock mark,"
"What's a warlock mark? Do you get it with a stele too?"
He laughed out loud, "your naiveness is hilarious. No, it's a thing that happens when you're born as a warlock. For my future reference, I really have to ask you how you found this place?"
"It really wasn't that hard, you may want to consider replacing your mirror/doorway with a painting or a bookcase that doubles as a door," I said. As the shock of the green wore off I could concentrate on his features more. He had smooth skin that looked like it had never been through the traumatic experience of chicken pox or acne. He had almond shaped eyes and a doughy nose with a long lips that neither too full nor thin. My mental measuring tape wasn't perfect but I pegged him to be between five foot eight or nine. His clothing was also surprisingly normal. He had on a hoodie with a corduroy jacket over it, a styling choice which made sense since his "den" was nippy.
"I'll pass it along to the dictator,"
"Dictator?" I nervously asked. Did the magical world have some sort of tyranny that I was unaware of?
"June, she runs a tight ship. It's called a nickname," he said, mimicking me from earlier, "so how did you end up in her clutches?"
"If you're asking how I ended up here… well I found out I was a Shadowhunter and I decided to join," I said, not sounding convincing even to my own ears.
"So you dropped your old life and decided to risk your new one by hunting for demons and other creatures from the depths of hell?" he asked raising his brows.
"That sums it up pretty well," to distract him, and myself, from this conversation I glanced around the room for a topic, "so this is your den? Why the secrecy and underground tunnels?"
"Well I guess I might as well tell you everything since you've seen it. This property belonged to June and Lysander's family. They're the Ashdowns, every Shadowhunter family has a name like that, anyways, and their family kept this property for generations for some unknown reason. The tunnels existed here for a long time for mining or something, I really didn't get the finer details but I know the town supposed to be full of them and they're hidden away."
"So you just decided to camp out here because there isn't room anywhere else?" I asked looking around the room for once. I had been so mesmerized by his greenness that I had completely ignored the rest of the room which was even more awe-inspiring. It was a large rectangle shaped room which had a large fireplace in one of the shorter walls. There was a nice table with chairs off to the side that was piled with mugs and pizza boxes. Other then that table, there was a larger one right in the middle of the room which I had been sifting through earlier. I couldn't tell if it was even made of wood since it was covered in jars, bottles of strange liquids, odd stones, papers, scrolls and books. On another wall there were two glass display cases which held a number of strange tools that had a steampunk look to them. The room was cut in half with a giant bookcase leaving only a small space to squeeze through to the other side. There was also a ladder which lead who knows where.
"What's the ladder for?" I asked while pointing at it.
"I'll show you," he said while walking towards it. I followed him while thinking of how quickly he had gone from slightly hostile to chipper. He began climbing the rungs of the ladder and he swung a trapdoor on the ceiling open. From my angle all I could see was a roof through it and I began climbing after him.
When we emerged through the trapdoor, my jaw fell open. Not only was it the complete opposite from his basement, it was also a small house. It was the same dimensions as the basement, with a white suburban styled staircase that lead to a second floor. The walls were cover in blue patterned wall paper that was faded away in some areas. The floors were thin wooden panels that seemed to boast a history. A loft bed was pressed against one of the walls a few feet away from the staircase. In the opposite side from the bed, there was an area which we were currently climbing out of. It held an antique dresser, a trunk, a mirror and one long modern couch. Everything was very neat and gave off the impression that my room gave, as if no one had lived there; that was until I made eye contact with one of the windowless walls.
The Shins, Depeche Mode, Metric, the Editors, and Andrew Bird were the were some posters which I recognized, all my favorites, that covered a wall. They were arranged in such a way that was very intentional, as if they were one giant art piece. He was moving a colorful woven rug to cover the trap door we just came out of.
"Sick room," I said in awe, "do you listen to all these?"
I scooted up closer to the wall and saw that a few were even signed. I fought the felonious urge to steal them and clasped my hands together.
"Yeah, I'm not allowed to decorate much since I'm technically not supposed to live here," he said while tucking his hands under his arm pits, "I convinced June that I could arrange them in a way that didn't make it obvious it was someone's room."
"I love almost all these bands," I said, "this is totally weird, I thought that only my best friend listened to all the same stuff I did."
"Yeah, well tell your friend she has good taste," he responded.
I wish I could, I thought wistfully, realizing I hadn't talked to her for nearly a week.
"So, isn't it a bit of a give away if you have all your clothes here, along with your laptop and stuff?" I asked him while eyeing the laptop that laid on the metal desk that was underneath his loft bed.
"Oh, we're super crafty about that kind of stuff," he said while grinning, "I don't keep anything except for linens in the closet and all my clothes are either in the trunk, which looks like a decoration anyways and the rest is in the cellar. The laptop has two accounts, one called Ashdowns and another called guests. I use the Ashdowns' so no one can trace me."
"Wow, that is crafty," I said impressed, "has anyone ever found you yet?"
"Other then you, no. I moved here about a year and a half ago anyways," he said.
"Did you ever go to school?" I asked him, "I don't think I saw you there."
He looked a little uncomfortable, "no I haven't been to school or anything yet. I really want to but being a warlock and all…"
He drifted off and I quickly said, "You want to go to school? Trust me, your not missing out on anything. Half of the people in it are suicidal and the other half are homicidal."
"Which half are you in?" He asked, still wearing his grin.
"Depends on the number of hours I've slept and if there's a group project I have to do," I laughed.
"Group project?" he asked.
"Like instead of doing your work, you also have three other people's work to do, because for some reason, no matter how bad your work ethic is, you'll be paired with people who are worse."
"Luckily for you, you won't have to deal with that anymore!" he said sarcastically, "once you join the Clave they'll put you through training to become a lean, mean, arrogant killing machine."
"Do I really have to kill demons?" I asked him nervously. It never really sunk in how this life would effect me. I wasn't sure how long I'd stay here, maybe until I found out about Ebony and the sender of the threatening note, but for another 40+ years?
"Well you do if you don't want to die,"
"Do you kill demons too?" I asked him questioningly.
"No, I'm not a Shadowhunter so I don't get to partake unless for some god-forsaken reason I wanted to pick it up as a hobby. If you couldn't tell from the down stairs, I'm more of a behind the scenes type of guy. In exchange for housing, food and a hearth full of love, I give them my services as a warlock."
"You can do straight up magic?" I asked him in awe, "show me!"
"That'll have to wait for another day. But I can tell you it's pretty epic," he said smugly.
"Do you have an invisibility clo-"
Right then, the front door opened and June entered looking positively stricken.
"What are you doing in here?!"
"I… got lost?"
There was a long and awkward pause. Lysander popped his head through the door behind June.
"Cats out of the bag I guess," he said sounding amused.
"Oh god," June's hand flew to clutch her neck, "Harley, you need to not tell anyone about Micah being here okay?"
"Wait… is he supposed to be a secret-secret?"
"No shit sherlock, why do you think I live part time in an underground tunnel?" Micah said, the previously chipper boy gone and replaced with the condescending prick.
"I don't know? Maybe you're allergic to the sun?" I said sarcastically back, "I won't tell anyone. I don't know who I'd tell anyways…"
"Well you're probably going to be transferred to an institute soon," Lysander said.
"Out of pure curiosity why is it so important that Micah remains a secret?" I asked curious.
"We can not keep Downworlders with us while were on our current assignment," June said, "and he can not live by himself unprotected because… he is still too young."
I looked him up and down, "how old are you 14? 15?"
"No, I'm 17," Micah said through his teeth.
"So long story short you need to swear on the Angel you won't tell anyone," Lysander said while clapping his hands together.
"Sure, I swear on the angel,"
"Good, now that you have met everyone in the house we can begin training," June said leading us out the door.
"Are you sure there no werewolves or mermaids you don't keep anywhere else that I should meet?"
"Ha. Ha." Micah responded.
"Nope, but I do have a pair of fifteen pound weights that you haven't seen yet and that need lifting."
"Ugh."