Cia sighed and dropped the book on the bed beside her and fell back on her mattress. Her long, and now uneven, hair fanned out around her and fell in her eyes, which rolled skywards before landing on the place the book sat.
Her room had been stocked full of books, a knitting basket, and other things to amuse her in her down time, but she had hardly touched anything other than the tomes that sat on her shelves.
She had skimmed her way through almost all the books on her ceiling to floor bookcase in her time here, yet it was not much of a comfort, considering she could not actually read. While they reminded her of the times she would tell Nettie bedtime stories late into the night back in London, she was consumed with a bittersweet feeling.
If she sat on the floor in her nightgown and stared at the elegantly drawn illustrations by the light of a candle, she could almost convince herself she was back in the room she had shared with Nettie, Marie, and Lucy.
Nettie loved it when Cia told her stories, and it made Cia feel happy to know that at least Nettie had needed her in this world.
She reached for the book again, flipping through the pages to the end of another story. Her eyes lingered on the image of a strapping young man carrying away a fair lady in his arms, her captor vanquished by the sword hanging from his belt. The lady's eyes shone with adoration as her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Why must a princess rely on a knight in shining armor to come rescue her?" Cia mused aloud. "Why can she not just rescue herself?"
Even as she spoke the words aloud, she knew the answer. She felt the same helplessness as the tragic princesses in these stories. Now that she was the one imprisoned, she felt a sharp pang of guilt for all the mockery and scorn she had ever given the fictional characters. The solutions to the character's problem had always struck her as simple, but she wondered if her situation looked the same to anyone that might be on the outside.
In the ends of these fairy tales though, the prince came riding in on a majestic horse to save his beloved, even if he'd known her only a few short hours, or even minutes. But that was the one difference between those girls and her.
She may be in distress, but there was no one coming for her.
XXX
Will was making his way back to the Institute more quickly than he would have liked. However, anytime he found that his feet were dragging, his mind would conjure up the image of Nettie and the smile she had given him. Her large brown eyes reflecting such pure innocence, and filled to the brim with trust he really did not think he deserved.
She truly believed he would be able to bring this Cia girl back to her.
That made his pace quicken until his mind was fogged over by thoughts of Tessa, Jem, and telling Charlotte about his findings. It was a vicious and draining cycle.
As he made his way through the streets of London he made an effort to keep his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. But the ground was gray…as was everything else his eyes happened to land on. He would end up going mad at this rate.
His head gave a painful throb in response the slamming of a carriage door not too far away. Gritting his teeth, Will stopped in his tracks and pinched the bridge of his nose and let his bangs fall over his eyes in a desperate attempt to block out as much light as he could. If this is what being intoxicated was really like, he didn't think he could stand it again.
"Will? Is that you?"
Will's eyes opened slightly, and his gaze shifted up and to the right, landing on a familiar figure in a dark blue traveling dress.
She was small in stature, though not as small as Charlotte. Her hair fell down over her shoulders in loose curls in a color that reminded Will of the of the pumpkin spice cakes Agatha used to bake during the fall and winter months. Her large blue eyes widened as she took in his appearance and walked over briskly; abandoning the carriage she was standing by moments ago.
"You look like something the cat dragged in Will," she scolded as she gave him a more thorough once over.
"Pleasant as ever I see Emmaline," Will replied curtly as he glanced sown at the small girl. "However I'm not in the mood at the moment to deal with your pleasantness."
Emmaline placed her hands on her hips and met his gaze fearlessly. Her brow furrowed at his response and the lack of sarcasm his greetings usually contained. He could see she was waiting for the familiar insulting welcome he would usually save especially for her.
His head throbbed under the intensity of her gaze, and in an attempt to cut the meeting short, he tried sidestepping her. But she followed his movements, quick as his own shadow, and blocked his escape.
"When are you ever?" she quipped. "I never complain too much about how pleasant you are."
"Maybe you should be getting back to Klaus," he sighed in an attempt to get rid of her. "I'm sure he will begin to malfunction if his shadow goes missing for too long."
"I thought that was the point of being a parabatai," Emmaline responded quickly, unfazed by his attempted insult.
"Since when are the two of you parabatai?" Will asked, only slightly surprised.
"The Christmas before last," she replied. "Right after I turned fourteen."
"Ah so now Klaus is a babysitter," he shot back calmly. "I do not envy him one bit."
"You are not really one to talk Will," Emmaline spat as she flushed slightly.
Will felt his anger spike, and deduced that there must still be more alcohol in him than he thought. But before he could snap back to her, a boy of about seventeen set a hand on Emmaline's shoulder. He gave her a disapproving look before turning back to look at Will with stern brown eyes.
"At each other's throats already?" he sighed. "Really Emmaline, we've not even arrived at the Institute."
"Klaus," Will sighed in greeting with a slight nod of the head.
"Will," the boy replied, seeming slightly astonished at the rather civil greeting.
Klaus exchanged a look with Emmaline, and her shoulders shrugged ever so slightly. Her eyes darted over to the carriage sitting across the road and then back to Will. Klaus nodded and she rolled her eyes, her shoulders slumping and accompanied by a heavy sigh.
"Are you on the way back to the Institute?" Klaus asked, ignoring Emmaline's dramatics and turning back to Will. "We were just on our way there ourselves to deliver a report to Charlotte. We can give you a lift if you would like."
Will contemplated it for a moment. Inside the carriage he'd be cut away from most of the meddlesome sounds in the street. While Emmaline and Klaus were talkative people, Klaus seemed to notice that something was off about him, and had given Emmaline a silent warning to ease off the usual verbal and physical fights they would participate in.
In the end, the carriage would get him out of the light, so there was only one real answer.
"Very well," he sighed, and gestured for them to lead the way.
With a nod, Klaus led the way back to the carriage, the light glinting off his blonde hair in a way that made Will's eyes ache. He returned his gaze to the floor until they reached the carriage, and proceeded to collapse in the plush seats once inside.
The ride was silent, since Emmaline silently refused to share the carriage interior with Will and sat with Klaus up in the driver's seat.
As the carriage drove along the streets, Will found his mind wandering back towards the orphanage and Nettie. Slightly shaking fingers pulled the ratty and frayed black ribbon from one of his coat pockets, and his stele from the other.
Finding Cia should be easy, unless of course she was no longer in this world. And if worse came to worst Tessa could always find out what happened to-
He cut the thought off.
He'd not ask for Tessa's help on this. He'd do it himself.
Touching the tip of the stele to the ratty ribbon, he began to draw the lines for a tracking rune. Once finished he lay back against the seat, letting his eyes close as he tried to concentrate through the pounding in his head.
Things began to come into focus a few seconds later. A room completely decorated in black and white, and the room's occupant lay on their side, staring at an ebony vanity table with a fractured mirror mounted on it. The eyes of the room's occupant drifted lazily from the vanity to a large bay window seat on the other side of the large bed covered in white silk sheets.
They got up and walked around the bed, and as they walked in front of the cracked mirror Will caught a quick glimpse of a girl in a white dress. But her eyes lingered on it for hardly three seconds before returning to the window. She sat down on the bay seat, and leaned against the wooden frame of the window.
He could tell right away that there was no glass in the frame, but wards.
Right then the carriage hit a bump and the connection was lost.
That must have been the girl he was looking for, and from what he'd seen all seemed well enough. She was alive, and as far as he knew no more worse for the wear. The tracking rune was pointing him towards the north west from London, and if he continued heading that way he'd come across a manor house a little less than two miles outside Winchcombe.
The job should be easy enough. But then what?
While it was not a pleasant situation, it was a distraction from his problems. But what would happen when it was over? Just another job done and things would go back to how they were.
Tessa would have her dress fittings, and he'd watch her transform into an exquisite Nephilem bride. Jem would be infectiously happy. Only in Will's case Jem's happiness would only feed his misery. It would be torturous to watch that happiness Jem and Tessa shared grow.
The only thing that could delay the eventual snuffing out of his heart would be the Clave's consent of the wedding.
Well at least now he knew he wouldn't be alone in all this. As much as they didn't like being around each other, Will and Emmaline now had something in common. Though he'd admit, if given the choice he'd much rather silently share the heartache with anyone else on the planet. He almost even began to feel a bit guilty from all the times he had openly mocked her pining.
The carriage came to a stop, and Will heard the gates swing open.
He made his way to the door and hoped out just as Cyril walked up to the horses. Emmaline jumped down from the driver's seat, the heels of her boots clicking sharply on the cobblestones of the courtyard as Klaus handed the reigns over to Cyril. They began making their way to the doors of the Institute, and made it halfway to the door before Emmaline glanced back at Will over her shoulder.
Her eyebrow arched as she saw he was still standing there, but dismissed it as she turned and began climbing the steps.
With a roll of his eyes he began to follow behind them sluggishly, keeping a fair amount of distance between them and Emmaline's irritatingly bouncy hair.
Sophie greeted them in the hall, and escorted them to Charlotte's study. Not that any of them really needed it.
Charlotte was sitting behinds her large desk, bent over a large stack of papers and scribbling away with her pen. Her hair fell in wisps over her neck and shoulders, and she looked as if she was trying to make up for lost time over the last fortnight.
She glanced up as they entered the room, her eyebrows lifting slightly at the sight of Emmaline and Klaus. But she offered them a smile as she rose form her desk.
"It is a bit early for Christmas isn't it?" Charlotte asked as she ran her fingers through the strands of escaping hair. "Mind if I ask what the occasion is?"
"We have a report for you," Klaus responded as he pulled an envelope from within his traveling jacket. "Sorry the visit could not be on better terms."
Charlotte took the envelope from Klaus and turned it over in her hands.
"There have been quite a few rumors of a small mansion house just outside Winchcombe," Emmaline said. "Mostly reported sightings of blue fire, eerie sounds, and trembling of the ground around the house. The more superstitious residents in the area are convinced it is the work of some vengeful spirit."
Will's head snapped up, and an instant later he regretted it. His head gave a nasty throb, and he had to resist the urge to cradle his head in his hands.
"You are positively sure that this is occurring in Winchcombe?" he asked through grit teeth.
Emmaline glanced over at him, seemingly annoyed that he questioned her facts. She nodded curtly before turning to fully face him.
"Is there a problem with that statement?" she asked icily.
"There's a good chance that's where I need to go," Will sighed before his eyes trailed over to Charlotte. "A few months ago a fifteen year old mundane girl was adopted by a warlock from an orphanage a few streets down."
The light in Charlotte's eyes dimmed with his words and her expression grew more serious.
"You are sure about this Will?" she asked evenly.
"One of the younger girls there has the Sight Charlotte," he replied. "She gave me something to track the other girl with."
He pulled the ratty ribbon from his pocket again and held it out to her. Charlotte stepped towards him and took the ribbon in her tiny hands.
"I tried the tracking rune on the way here," he sighed. "I saw wards on her windows."
Charlotte looked down at the ribbon and sighed heavily. Her shoulders slumped and she ran a hand through her hair again.
"Well…" she sighed. "This is not the first time I wished you were wrong Will. And I doubt it will be the last."
"We would like to offer our assistance if you will accept it."
Will turned to look at Klaus and Emmaline. Neither of them were Jem, nor could they replace him. Yet this was one time he might have been reluctantly glad to have a different set of partners.
Even if he did have to take Emmaline along in the equation.