Chapter 12
Ghosts on the Road
Tessa had considered throwing herself out of the carriage, down into the ravine. But what would have happened to the still-unconscious Evan? No, Tessa decided, it was not worth the risk. Instead, she moved Evan to sit next to her on the carriage bench and made her as comfortable as she could. Tessa remembered some of Jem's worst attacks, how he would twitch and mutter things but Evan was so still that Tessa feared she would never wake up. Her fear only increased when she thought of how crushed Will would be - and not just Will. Everyone at the Institute - the Lightwoods, the Branwells, Sophie, herself, Jem, Cecily (even Cyril and Bridget) - had come to love Evan just as they'd come to love Tessa.
"Mortmain will heal her if you ask." Mrs. Black said with a smirk from her slinking spot in the dark corner. "After you do as he asks."
And for one horrendous moment, Tessa considered it. But she did not reply.
What were the others doing now? Were they looking for them? Surely they were on their way to rescue them. It would only be a day or two at most, Tessa thought, Jem is healed and Mortmain has no hold over them anymore.
Just then Evan stirred, making Tessa jump and cover the girl's injured arm with her own skirts - the pain would be unbearable if she'd see it, Tessa knew. But Evan twitched twice and did not wake. Tessa waited longer and the minutes (or hours) ticked by, the sun sinking lower leaving her in the shadows that gradually grew to darkness. Mrs. Black did not breath, did not make a noise, and the only think Tessa could hear in the dark, bent over Evan, smoothing out her hair, was her own breathing.
Tessa thought that once or twice, Evan's eyes opened, glassy and unsteady but as soon as she touched her cheek, it was as if she was gone - cold and stiff. Through their three days of traveling, Tessa kept two fingers on Evan's slow pulse, not thinking about their lack of food or how sleep deprived she was. The best way to pass the time was to count the beats of her slow heart. By the time Mrs. Black called for the carriage to stop, Tessa had counted three hundred forty-five thousand and sixteen beats.
"I don't understand," Henry threw a wrench across the the crypt in frustration as his wife descended the steps to his crypt once more, causing her to jump. He whirled to face her, Magnus looked up from the workbench, just as disheveled. For the first time, Henry did not beam at Charlotte as she came in. "Everything is right. But it's not working."
"It's my magic," Magnus said, kicking a wall. "The runes we used - something isn't right."
Charlotte put her arm on Henry's stiff shoulders but it did little to ease him. It's been three days. No sleep, hardly eating; there was too much at stake. "What runes?" Charlotte asked softly. She's been down here every day, too, but at Magnus and Henry's insistence, has been sleeping - for the child, of course. But that hardly meant she's been sleeping soundly.
"My magic and the runes aren't cooperating," Magnus explained.
Charlotte hesitated before taking a deep breath and looking up to her husband, "Perhaps you should try runes from the Book of the White."
Henry looked to her startled, "You are sure, Lottie? The trouble we could be in -"
"We will loose the Institute either way, Henry," Charlotte said indifferently. "But we must get the girls back." Her gaze slid to Magnus, "Do what you must, Mr. Bane, but the Portal must be ready today."