There was something deeply unsettling about the York Institute; whether it be the darkness that seemed to cling to every corner, or the Head of this worn-down church. Perhaps it was a culmination of the two. One thing was for certain: this place did not hold the same homey feeling of the London Institute. Rosalie Gray felt less than welcome here, and she would be glad to leave as soon as possible. Only an insane person would wish to linger about here; in a place where clearly no one was welcome. Aloysius Starkweather truly was as awful as Charlotte had made him out to be. The old man said nothing as he showed everyone to their rooms; he motioned to the doors and grumbled in annoyance as he meandered away. It would appear that he decided to let the four bicker amongst themselves for who claimed what room. Not that the dreary rooms were anything worth fighting over. "Does anyone else have the distinct impression that Mr. Starkweather did not intend on allowing us to stay?" Tessa asked with raised brows, her eyes flitting over Will, Jem, and Rosalie.
"I think he doubted that we'd show up at all." Will said.
"He is just very set in his ways." Jem shook his head, his silver eyes trained on Tessa. "He, like many others, see Charlotte as an unfit Head of Institute-"
"I can think of no one better for the job." Tessa frowned deeply.
That was certainly true, and everyone knew it. But there was just one problem in the Clave's mind. "That may be true," Rosalie chimed in, her tone thoughtful. "But Charlotte is a woman, and this is a man's world. Charlotte being in a position of power is undoubtedly viewed as a threat."
"Rosalie is quite right." Jem nodded in agreement. "But this is a conversation for another time. I believe it is time for dinner."
By the time they arrived downstairs, dinner had in fact been served. Yet Rosalie couldn't help but scrunch her nose at the food in front of her. If one could even call this food. It was some form of stew; a very dark, peculiar looking stew. More peculiar than the food was their host who had yet to show for dinner. Rosalie quickly surveyed the room, ensuring all servants had left before leaning forward. "Is this Starkweather's attempt at getting rid of us?" she murmured.
"What?" Will chuckled, a glimmering smile forming on his lips. "Is the food not up to snuff?"
She kicked him under the table. Hard. "Do you not find it the least bit odd that he has not come down for dinner?"
"It is a bit strange." Tessa admitted from her seat beside Rosalie. "A host that does not attend his own dinner..."
"I wouldn't come down if I were him." Will mused, swirling his pool in the stew placed before him. "I would likely fast if I had to live here."
"Manners, Will." Jem said, glancing over at his parabatai. "Starkweather may show little respect for us, but we are doing this for Charlotte. So, behave yourself."
Rosalie bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Will glared down at his food. A quick glance to her left, and she could see Tessa doing the same. Perhaps it was a blessing that Starkweather had yet to come down to dinner; it gave them time to sit around and talk. Time to joke. Who knew when they would have the opportunity to do that again; the search for Mortmain often ran them ragged. All of the searching and chasing down leads left little to no time for them to just spend time together. Rosalie could not recall a single conversation that did not pertain to Mortmain, Nate, or the automatons. But for just this one night, they talked of other things. Things that inspired laughter. Endless amounts of laughter. Tonight was one that Rosalie would cherish for as long as she lived; she would always remember the happy feeling that settled over her.
But the time for laughter and easy-going conversation came to an abrupt halt when the hulking figure of Aloysius Starkweather finally appeared. He grunted out a greeting before taking his seat at the head of the table. He placed a box on the table, capturing everyone's attention. "Charlotte will be glad to know I've caved to her demands." he muttered. "I searched my archives all day and half the night."
So that was where he had been; going through all the records stored in the York Institute. Rosalie focused more closely on the box nestled on the table, straining her eyes to read the initials that had been carved along the top. Her heart leapt with excitement. This was indeed what they had been looking for. Tessa's fingers twitched, and Rosalie could practically see the thoughts in her head. She felt the same inclination to snatch the box and pour over its contents. They owed Charlotte Branwell; bringing back any small lead was the least they could do for her.
Starkweather took a sip of his wine and recoiled, remarking about its disgusting taste before opening the box. He rummaged through it and the sound of crinkling paper resonated through the air. No one spoke as he pulled a few sheets of paper from the box. "What we have here is a request for Reparations on behalf of two warlocks." he explained while reading over the words written along the page. Rosalie had half a mind to snatch it from him and read it herself. "It was filed by their son, Axel Hollingworth Mortmain," he went on, his tone riddled with disinterest. "But the odd thing is warlocks are barren-"
"We know that." Rosalie said, unable to stop herself.
"What Miss Gray meant to say is that this son was adopted by the Shade's." Jem said smoothly.
The dark look on Starkweather's face was a clear indicator that Jem should not have said that. His lip curled in what Rosalie decided was disgust. "Shouldn't be allowed." he mumbled, more so to himself. But they all heard it.
Rosalie's blood boiled. They had no time to listen to the ramblings of an old man. She opened her mouth to say precisely that when Jem cleared his throat- a clear warning. Apparently, Will would not be the problem here. It appeared Rosalie claimed that position for herself with her inability to keep her emotions in check.
"Is there anything in there pertaining to potential whereabouts?" Jem asked. He spared Rosalie a brief glance, silently reminding her to control herself.
The short answer to that question was no. There was nothing that could lead them to wherever Mortmain may be hiding. The articles Starkweather held information about the two warlocks. Especially the father, John Shade. Starkweather explained how the Clave had grown suspicious of the warlock, believing that he had the Book of White. Rosalie tuned him out after that, only deigning to listen when questions were asked. "A small enclave slaughtered the two warlocks." she heard Starkweather.
"And what of the child?" Will leaned forward in his seat, hands braced against the table.
"No trace of him at the house." the old man shrugged. Useless. Positively useless! "We assumed he was dead until this turned up." he motioned to the papers splayed before him. "Even his address-"
That put everyone on alert. "Address?" Will's eyes brightened ever so slightly. Finally, there was a sliver of hope that Mortmain could be found. And Rosalie knew that he would cling to that small sliver. They all would. "In London?"
Starkweather shook his head. "Right here in Yorkshire." he said, placing the papers back into the box. "Ravenscar Manor.
Rosalie awoke the following morning with a sick feeling in her stomach. Images from last night plagued her dreams. All of the Spoils in that room had left a mark, and she knew she would not forget all she had seen for a long, long time. How the Clave could have allowed such a thing was far beyond her. Nor could she understand how anyone would want to place such things on display. The dead Downworlders were apparently viewed as nothing more than trophies; and Starkweather certainly had a lot of them. Rosalie shivered and pushed the thoughts away. There would be time for her to process everything, but not now. Right now, she needed to prepare for the visit to Ravenscar Manor. Starkweather had explained that most of the house had been emptied- its contents taken for Spoils. But it was still worth exploring. All Rosalie could do was pray that something had been left behind... something that would point them in the right direction. Or maybe they would luck out. Maybe Mortmain was hiding in his childhood home.
The first thing Rosalie did when she climbed out of bed was throw open the curtains, allowing sunlight to fill the room. The sky was clear and a beautiful shade of blue. If she knew how to paint, she would have loved to capture that beautiful view. Dressing without Sophie, she realized, was extremely difficult. Rosalie had grown so used to having help that she struggled to lace her corset. She would have removed it, but she was nearly halfway done. Undoing her work seemed foolish at this point.
A light knock sounded at her door. Once, twice, thrice. Rosalie huffed as she hurried over and opened the door just enough to poke her head out. Will stared at her with lifted brows. "Sleeping in, are we?" he asked with a smirk.
The muscles in her jaw feathered. "I was not sleeping." she said indignantly. "I was just-" Rosalie's mouth clamped shut. He had no reason to know what she was doing... rather, struggling to do.
"You were just... what?" his head tilted mischievously. "Pray tell, dear Rose."
"I- you- you are infuriating, you do know that, yes?" Rosalie's eyes narrowed. "Would you fetch Tessa for me?"
Will raised his brows at her once more. "She's already gone down for breakfast."
"Then go get her!" she snapped. Can't he ever just do as I ask? Honestly, how hard is it to just walk downstairs!
"By the Angel, what's gotten into you today?" Will chuckled lightly, amusement twinkling in those blue eyes.
"Nothing." she said, shaking her head. "I just need her help with something." Don't offer to help, don't offer to help-
"Am I not standing right here?"
Rosalie loosed a long sigh. She could have finished with her stupid corset by now if he hadn't interrupted. Or she still could have been done if Will had just done as she'd asked. But of course, he had to be stubborn about it. "This is not something you can help me with. It would be inappropriate-" Rosalie yelped as Will shouldered past the door. "WILL!" she yelled, crossing her arms over her body. "Get out!"
Will let out a laugh as Rosalie attempted to camouflage herself against the door, her arms wrapped tightly around her slim frame. "Come here, Rose." he instructed, his eyes never leaving her. She did not move from her place against the door.
"You should not be here." she sighed, her forehead pressing against the rickety old door. "You should not have shoved your way in here. What you should have done is run and fetch my sister, like I asked." Rosalie stiffened when she felt his hand on her bare arm. He made no effort to turn her around as he led her toward the armoire.
"I know, I know." Will said quietly. "Go on and tell me how awful I am." there was the faintest hint of humor in his tone. "But the fact of the matter is: I am here, and we are running behind schedule."
"Fine." Rosalie let out an annoyed hiss and braced her hands on either side of the armoire. Goosebumps rose along her skin as Will brushed her hair aside. He made quick work of lacing up her corset and pulled on the strings. "Tighter." he pulled on them again. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, Will! Pull them tighter." Rosalie sucked in a breath as he yanked on the strings.
"Better?" Will purred, his hands lingering on her back.
He was standing so close; Rosalie could almost feel his chest against the exposed skin of her back. Her body shuddered involuntarily as she remembered that night in her room. When she had been crying- for what reason, she could not recall- and he had come to her. Phantom fingers traced along her arms, her jaw. It felt like just yesterday; yet it also felt like it had been a million lifetimes ago. Will's hand brushed through her thick curls, jostling her back into the present. Rosalie knew he was thinking about precisely the same thing; she could tell by the softness of his touch. The gentleness of those warrior hands. Will's hand slid down to rest on her waist, and he twisted her around to face him. Rosalie swallowed hard, her throat bobbing as she met his gaze. She knew she should stop this- whatever this was. Yet she couldn't help but relish in the feel of his hand on her body, the way he looked at her. It was as if he had never seen her before... or that he could finally see her clearly- as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes. He bent forward, his eyes darting swiftly to her lips. "No." Rosalie whispered and pushed as far away as she could. Her back thudded against the armoire, making her wince. "We cannot do this again, Will." her voice trembled. "We know where this road leads, so why travel down it again? Why must you hurt me this way?" Rosalie hated how weak she sounded, hated how he made her so weak.
"Rose-"
"Leave." she whispered.
"Rosalie please-"
"I mean it, Will." Rosalie forced herself to meet his gaze, to hold it. "You must go before I... before I do something stupid." It hurt to send him away. But it hurt even more to realize that they could likely never be friends. Not if it would always lead them back here. Lead them back to a place of longing and pain. It was so much easier to hate him; to act like he didn't exist.
"I always do stupid things when it comes to you." Will murmured. His eyes darkened; the familiar storm brewing once more as he strode forward. He covered the short distance in a few measly steps and brought his lips crashing down on hers. That sliver of resistance Rosalie had been clinging to disappeared, and she melted into him. Her thin fingers ran through his soft hair and trailed downward, tracing along his shoulders and down his long arms. Will's mouth moved against hers with a sense of urgency. He knew how wrong this was. He knew the danger he constantly put her in by stringing her along. But he couldn't bring himself to stop, to let her go. Her touch brought him to life, and that was something he couldn't give up. To stand near her was to feel the warmth of the sun. Her laugh was a beautiful symphony. He longed for it with every waking moment.
Rosalie shoved her hands against his chest, sending Will stumbling back. Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving. Tears were already forming in her eyes as she looked at him. His hair was mussed from where her hands had been, his shirt disheveled. "I cannot..." she broke off, searching for the right words. A tear slipped from her eye as she found her voice. "I cannot love you in the dark, Will. I cannot continue to blindly stumble through life with you, even if I long for nothing more than that. You... you play too many games. One day you treat me like I am the only girl in the world, and the next you treat me like dirt. Not to mention Tessa... have you been playing games with her as well? Or have you decided to torment only one of us?" every word that left her mouth hurt. As if every word was a knife plunging into her heart. "You need to decide what it is you want, because I will not love a ghost."
Will flinched, physically flinched at her words. But he said nothing as he backed away and disappeared out the door.
Rosalie had not spoken since they left the York Institute. Starkweather had graciously loaned them a carriage that would take them to Ravenscar Manor and then to the train station. Despite how hard she tried to ignore it; Rosalie could feel Will's eyes on her. He was watching her intently from the corner of his eye. But she did not turn to acknowledge him. She kept her line of focus on the carriage window. That was the best she could do. Will had broken through her walls again and she could not resist him. She had barely even tried. Her stomach had twisted into tiny knots as the kiss replayed over and over again in her head. Rosalie could still feel where his hands had been; could still feel his silky hair running through her fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut and kept them closed.
She pretended to sleep for the rest of the journey.
Jem called for the driver to stop, and Rosalie feigned a yawn. She rubbed at her eyes, pretending to wipe the sleep away.
"But we're not there yet!" Tessa protested as Will opened the door and stepped out, Jem following suit.
"We can't very well just march up to the front door." Will said, stepping aside as Jem offered his hand to Tessa. He held his own hand out for Rosalie, but she ignored it. She stepped gracefully down from the carriage, eyeing her surroundings. Her gaze jumped over Will as if he wasn't standing right next to her.
They set off toward the manor; Tessa, Jem, and Will locked in conversation while Rosalie trailed behind them. She could vaguely hear them talking about the differences between living in the city versus the country. Will argued that living in the countryside was better, while Jem and Tessa preferred the city. City life was all Rosalie and Tessa had ever known, yet Rosalie fancied the idea of living far away from the hustle and bustle. Life just seemed like it would be easier out here, like it would be more peaceful. Maybe she would move out to the country one day... when all of this was settled. She could marry and begin anew. That thought brought Rosalie a moment of peace that was quickly wiped away. For up ahead she could see the forms of houses beginning to take shape; the looming gray chimneys that stood out against the vibrant blue sky. It was a strange sight... they were so close, yet the peaking chimneys seemed so far. As the four came to a stop, Rosalie realized why it had felt so far. Ravenscar Manor sat directly ahead of them, positioned within three rolling hills. This is no family home, she realized, this is a fortress. The surrounding hills made the home easily defensible for the two warlocks that used to reside here. Rosalie came to a stop beside Tessa, Will, and Jem. They were perched atop one of the hills and staring down at the manor. It was beautifully constructed with its large doors, vast windows, and circular driveway. The building itself was made of heaping piles of gray stone. But for a house that had stood abandoned for so many years, it was in perfect shape. No broken windows, no weeds, no signs of neglect or disrepair whatsoever.
Jem seemed to realize this at the same moment Rosalie did. "Well, someone is clearly living here." he noted, those silver eyes sweeping over the house as a carriage rattled up the drive.
Silence fell over them once more as they watched. Rosalie's nerves prickled in a mixture of fear and excitement. Could Mortmain truly be here? Was he about to step down from that carriage? She took a half step forward as the carriage door opened, and her heart immediately sank. It was not Mortmain who stepped out, but a girl. Rosalie estimated that she couldn't be older than fourteen. The girl was quite beautiful from what Rosalie could see, with her flowing black hair and oval shaped face.
Will gasped audibly, drawing all attention to him as the girl disappeared inside. His blue eyes were wide- almost haunted- as if he had seen a ghost. He staggered back a few paces. Will did not look away from the door; he did not turn as Jem said his name. It was like he had no clue they were there, like they no longer existed. He gasped again and within that sound was a name. Cecily.
"Who is Cecily?" Tessa asked and placed her hand on Will's arm. It was a reassuring gesture, yet Rosalie couldn't deny the pang of jealousy she felt. Jealous of my own sister, how pathetic does that make me? Rosalie thought angrily. Now was not the time for jealousy- especially not misplaced jealousy.
Will didn't seem to hear her. He just kept repeating that name.
"Yes, you've said that already." Tessa sighed, her tone short. Rosalie wasn't the only jealous one apparently.
Finally, Will seemed to remember the people standing around him. "My sister." his words were flat, but there was a hint of horror lurking beneath it. Something passed through his eyes, and he immediately set forward- preparing to barrel down the hill separating him from his family. It was clear what he was thinking: if Cecily was here, then the rest of his family would be as well. Will had made it a few steps down the hill when Jem swiftly caught up, seizing him by the sleeve.
"Don't." Jem's tone was hard, but still kind. "This is Mortmain's estate, Starkweather said so himself." he searched Will's face, reading all of the emotions displayed there.
"She could be visiting someone here." Tessa suggested gently.
Will shot her an incredulous look. "By herself?" he shook his head. "No, I recognized that carriage. That was my family's carriage... they've been dragged into this mess somehow, and I need to... I need to warn them." he set off again, only to have the back of his jacket seized firmly by Jem.
"Get off of me!" Will demanded, twisting violently in Jem's tight grasp. "You don't understand! Your family is dead!"
If the words pained him, Jem didn't let it show. His face remained perfectly calm. "I do understand." he said, shaking Will by his shirtfront. "But you are letting your emotions take control. If you would take a moment to think with your head, then you would see what I see." he motioned past the house to another of the hills. Standing atop it was an automaton. It was a tall, spindly looking thing. Mortmain had taken no effort in making this one look human. No, this one looked like a monster. "That thing has been following us. I saw something when we were in the carriage- a flash of metal- I wasn't sure then, but now I am." he did not release his hold on Will, if anything he tightened it. "If you go down there, you will be putting your family at risk."
Will's jaw tightened and he nodded. "You can let go. I won't go down there." his voice was lifeless. Today was taking a great toll on him. But he was right. Somehow, someway his family had been placed directly in the middle of this game.
Jem slowly removed his hands and staggered as Will shoved him aside and took off running. Not for the house, but for the seemingly immobile automaton. Rosalie heard Jem swear before bolting after his parabatai.
Tessa glanced to her sister and extended her hand. "Come on." she said, urgency seeping through the words. Rosalie grabbed her sister's hand and they hurried after Will and Jem. The boys were nothing more than darting shadows as they chased after them, holding tightly to each other. Rosalie was gasping for breath when they reached the hill. This had to be karma for kissing Will. For allowing him to get under her skin again. "There!" Tessa breathed and pointed to a copse of trees with her free hand. The slim figure of Jem disappeared into the trees, and they followed. Most of the sunlight had been swallowed into shadow by the trees surrounding them.
"Which way did they go?" Rosalie rasped tiredly, loosing her hand from Tessa's to spin in a quick circle. The boys were nowhere to be found, and they didn't leave any clue as to where they went.
A scream rippled through the air. Every muscle in Rosalie's body tightened as she spun around. That was Tessa screaming. She turned just in time to see that automaton stepping from the shadows. It was even more terrifying up close. From afar, she thought it had arms. But no, in place of arms it had saw-like contraptions. She watched in stunned silence as Tessa stumbled back, tripping over the skirt of her dress. The automaton reared back on its long legs, preparing to surge forward. Tessa's hands fumbled along the earth covered ground and seized a tree branch. "Tessie get out of the way!" Rosalie yelled as the monstrous automaton cut the branch into bits, forcing Tessa to roll to the side- narrowly missing those deadly saws that embedded into the place she had just been. It recovered quickly, pulling its arms free. Muted gray mechanical fingers sprang out and reached toward Tessa, aiming for her throat. Rosalie bent down and closed her fingers around a rock. It wasn't very big, but hopefully it would be enough to distract the creature. She drew her arm back over her shoulder before throwing the rock. It soared through the air and struck the automaton in the head. But it didn't turn, didn't stop reaching for her sister. It released an earsplitting screech just before it could take hold of Tessa and fell away. Will was standing there; a sword, dripping black fluid, in his hand. Jem stood close by, holding onto a witchlight. Will angled his sword at the injured automaton. "Why are you following us?" he asked it through gritted teeth.
Rosalie forced herself to come closer as the automaton whirred softly. "I am... a warning... from the Magister..." its body spasmed faintly, and more of that black fluid sprayed from its wounds.
"A warning for who?" Will's tone was cold yet professional.
"For you, Will Herondale." it said, its head turning toward him. It clicked with the movement. "And for all of the Nephilim." the creature seemed to be struggling to find words, and it was then that Rosalie realized: the black fluid was its blood. The automaton was dying. "To stop... your investigation..." it went on slowly. "To leave the past... in the past. Abandon your investigation... or your family shall... suffer."
Will stiffened, his hand tightening on his weapon. Even Rosalie couldn't help but recoil at what it had said. The words she knew Mortmain had told it to speak.
No one dared to speak as the automaton went on. "Do not... try to warn... them... or they shall be... slaughtered."
Will had gone red in the face, his eyes never straying from the dying automaton. "What has he done?" he angled the blade toward the creature's throat. "How did he bring my family here?"
But the creature did not reply. It whirred and clicked softly as it began reciting the message again. The message became more distorted as that black blood slowly leaked onto the earth covered ground beneath it, coating the leaves and grass in the substance.
An infuriated snarl ripped from deep within Will's throat as he slashed at the automaton, who still struggled to repeat its message, and tore it to pieces with his blade. Rosalie stared at it with wide eyes as Jem hauled Will away, speaking softly to his friend. The now dead creature was unrecognizable. There was nothing left of it, save for scraps of metal.
"Will," she heard Jem say, his voice as gentle as ever. He motioned through the trees at the figures barreling toward them. More automatons. "If we are to lead them away from your family, then we must go now. That is all we can do for them now."
Will looked toward the creatures, then glanced in the direction of Ravenscar Manor.
"Will," Rosalie frowned, her eyes darting between him and the fast-approaching creatures. "You know what will happen if you go near them. So please can we go?"
As quickly as they could, Will and Jem buried the remains of the automaton- covering up any evidence that something had died in this small forest.