"Committed suicide, slimy like a slug found in a year old boots," Allison Graymark, partly annoyed and partly amused, read out aloud. "Not to sound peeved, but who the hell wrote this?"
Hodge Starkweather, who looked like he had to deal with questions like these for a long, dreary time, sighed deeply. "Not the one who usually writes it."
"As much as this lies high up in the humor department, I would suggest something more proper," She stared at the file she had in her lap. The one who usually writes before was good at keeping things short and precise. This one had a really bad sense of humor. Well, as bad as Allison's humor would be head-on.
"This is just a draft. I'll send the correct one later after the more important issues are settled." She looked up to meet the old scholar's face.
For a moment it seemed to her that he was strangely misshapen, his left shoulder humped and higher than the other. As he approached from the shadow to sit in his chair, she saw that the hunch was a bird, perched neatly on his shoulder—a glossy feathered creature. Its bright black eyes shined from the light sifted through the cloured glass windows.
The New York Institute's Library was unique among its kind, as all Institutes had their notable feature. It was circular as if built inside a tower, a cathedral to be precise due to its dome-shaped area. High shelves with hundreds of books were lined alongside the walls with tall ladders perched beside.
Though the books weren't the ones you would find in a bookshop—leather bounded and clasped with locks and hinges. Which makes sense, since some spat fire occasionally and some tend to bite your head off. One, back at Alicante, let out a gas which made Allison lose her sense of smell for almost a week.
Hodge sat behind the incredible desk which made Allison a tad bit jealous. All Investigators have their offices in the Council room in Alicante. But her's wouldn't even be as big as the Inquisitor's bathroom. After all, she was just a Junior Investigator.
"This report is just a fake?" She asked, eyeing the said file. "You called because of the problem with the mundane, Clary is it?"
"I will make this as short as possible, Ms.Graymark." Hodge leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "There was a demon activity in the Pandemonium Club. My students—this Institute's residents—were to take care of it. They succeeded, yet spotted a mundane with the Sight. I was curious, and leaving a mundane with Sight without knowledge of what they're seeing would make them mad. Hence I sent for her, where we found out her home was attacked and her mother was kidnapped. She—Clary Fray—was wounded badly and an iratze worked on her. Amidst this conundrum, I thought an Investigator would settle this soon." He smiled a bit. "But I want it to be kept silent. A reason why I requested you personally."
"Because I'm unhinged, erratic, and would go around the Clave's eyes to make myself shine?"
He hesitated a moment. "If I know any Herondale, they are quite covert."
"Then let me stop you right there," Allison tossed the file into his desk. "One thing you should know about me, I loathe being mentioned as a Herondale. I am a Graymark, first and foremost, even though my grandmother is Imogen Herondale. We both don't tolerate covert doings if you know anything about us."
Hodge hesitated once again, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. Investigators held authority far greater than the Heads of an Institute. Allison's grandmother is also one of the most powerful Inquisitors the Clave has ever had. And her reputation...it was a handful to get about. Yet, she was just a sixteen-year-old teen.
"We can conclude informing the Clave after meeting the girl," Hodge reprimanded.
"Or I'll meet the mundie, and then inform the Clave as I seem to befit." Allison knew she had irked the tutor. "Why don't I sum up the situation including my inputs?" Continuing on their real work. "Clary Fray is not mundane, but a shadowhunter since she didn't turn into a Forsaken. A rare situation, a girl slipping through the gaze of the Clave. Now, we just need to make certain that she is a shadowhunter. And you need my help with it."
This was a curious case, indeed. Nephilim were angel-blooded warriors, whose's entire mission is to protect humans from the forces of demons. Demons that slip through the tears in reality to enter worlds and feed. While the blood of the angel Raziel ran through their veins, some choose to live a quiet life among mundanes. Perhaps this girl was one of those.
"Precisely," Hodge agreed.
Allison hummed in response. The floor, where she was tapping her booted foot, was laid with pieces of glass and marble in a pattern of constellations that would be seen more clearly from a higher perspective. A beautiful Institute, indeed.
"Let's start interrogating the girl, then."
"She is still unconscious. The one who brought her here had applied the iratze and is keeping an eye on her."
"Jack Wayland?"
"Jace." Hodge corrected. "He was also the one who wrote the report."
"A small suggestion. Never in the future — preferably in the immediate future — let him write." She requested. The humor was entertaining but, if it was someone else, the reaction would have been entirely different.
The huge double doors opened and in strode a boy. He gave a look towards Hodge in recognition, then flopped into a plush red armchair near the fireplace and spoke in a bored and monotonous voice, "The mundane is alive, unfortunately."
Hodge raised an eyebrow, clearly considering the newcomer's words. His eyes then flickered back to Allison but she raised her hand to not reveal her. The highbacked chair hid her from the boy's view, which she wanted to maintain for a while.
"I suppose Isabelle is bringing her to meet me?" Hodge asked instead. The boy just shrugged in reply.
She could see him in the reflection of the glass panel behind Hodge, his long limbs stretched out, his head tilted to look at Hodge. His jet-black was stark against his high-colored skin.
He looked familiar, Allison thought.
He resembled Maryse and Robert Lightwood, it clicked in her mind, the Heads of this Institute. He must be their son, though she didn't recall his name. But if he's Maryse's son, he did seem to share his mother's annoyance.
The doors opened once more, revealing a red-headed girl followed closely by another boy.
The girl didn't seem to notice anyone, because she was busy admiring the grandeur of the library. Though her emerald eyes were scrunched up as she looked at the constellations designed on the floor. Her eyes studied it curiously as if studying the lines and curves.
Allison would say she was an artist which, in turn, would mean her curiosity would reach the brim. How could a curious mind not wander into the Shadow World earlier? Something or someone must be the barrier. Her mother was apparently kidnapped. Perhaps–
"A book lover, I see," Hodge said, smiling at Clary who finally seemed to have spotted him."You didn't tell me that, Jace."
The boy, apparently the Jace, chuckled. He stood behind the girl behind her and was standing there with his hands in his pockets, with a grin. "We haven't done much talking during our short acquaintance," he said. "I'm afraid our reading habits didn't come up."
The girl, supposedly Clary Fray, turned around and shot him a glare.
"How can you tell?" Clary asked Hodge behind the desk. "That I like books, I mean."
"The look on your face when you walked in," he said, standing up and coming around from behind the desk. "Somehow I doubted you were that impressed by me."
Clary stifled a gasp as he rose. Her eyes were fixed on Hodge's left shoulder. He was still in the shadow and it must have been like a misshapen hump.
"This is Hugo," he said, touching the bird on his shoulder. "Hugo is a raven, and, as such, he knows many things. I, meanwhile, am Hodge Starkweather, a professor of history, and, as such, I do not know nearly enough."
Clary laughed a little and shook his outstretched hand. "Clary Fray."
"Honored to make your acquaintance," he said. "I would be honored to make the acquaintance of anyone who could kill a Ravener with her bare hands."
Allison's eyes widened.
"It wasn't my bare hands," Clary said. "It was Jace's—well, I don't remember what it was called, but—"
"She means my Sensor," Jace said. "She shoved it down the thing's throat. The runes must have choked it. I guess I'll need another one," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I should have mentioned that."
A new way to kill a demon, Allison noted the amusing strategy. Though she was surprised that none of the others still haven't spotted her presence. As clearly as she could see them through the reflection, it must be the same and vice versa.
"There are several extras in the weapons room," said Hodge. When he smiled at Clary, a thousand small lines rayed out from around his eyes, like the cracks in an old painting. "That was quick thinking. What gave you the idea of using the Sensor as a weapon?"
Before she could reply, a sharp laugh sounded through the room. It was the Lightwood boy again. "I can't believe you buy that story, Hodge," he said.
Clary looked at him with confusion. The boy gazed at Clary with hostility as pure and concentrated as acid.
"I'm not quite sure what you mean, Alec." Hodge raised an eyebrow. He wore a neat gray tweed suit, perfectly pressed. He would have looked like a kindly college professor if it hadn't been for the thick scar that drew up the right side of his face. "Are you suggesting that she didn't kill that demon after all?"
"Of course, she didn't. Look at her—she's a mundie, Hodge, and a little kid, at that. There's no way she took on a Ravener."
"I'm not a little kid," Clary sounded pissed. "I'm sixteen years old—well, I will be on Sunday."
"The same age as Isabelle," Hodge said. "Would you call her a child?"
"Isabelle hails from one of the greatest Shadowhunter dynasties in history," Alec said dryly. "This girl, on the other hand, hails from New Jersey."
"I'm from Brooklyn!" Clary was outraged. "And so what? I just killed a demon in my own house, and you're going to be a dickhead about it because I'm not some spoiled-rotten rich brat like you and your sister?"
That broke Allison's cover. She chuckled loud enough to make everyone's head snap in her direction.
Time to make a dramatic entrance, she thought.
She twirled her chair slowly to face the others.
"Hodge...you do see a girl sitting there right?" Jace asked. "Or did Isabelle hit my head hard with her heels?"
"I do know Jace." Hodge sighed. "Though I am disappointed you didn't spot her before."
"And I'm disappointed you didn't tell me there was another person."
"The said person is right here." Allison crossed her legs before her, leaning back to get more comfortable and a better vantage point. "I'm afraid I haven't introduced myself. I'm Allison Graymark, Investigator of the Clave."
Silence resumed as the three considered it for a moment. Then Jace broke out a laugh, "Sure, and I'm the Consul."
"The Inquisitor's granddaughter?" It was Alec, who asked in surprise. He looked at Allison closely, clearly studying her. Then his eyes widened as if realizing that he spoke out aloud and shrunk further into the armchair as if to go unnoticed. Jace gave him a look.
"I called her in so she could help us with Clary's situation," Hodge said, ruffling Hugo's wings.
"You told the Clave? I thought we could keep this down for some time until we help Clary."
His amber eyes were trained on Allison, glaring at her. As beautiful as he was, with the It factor to make all girls swoon, there was some familiarity in that face. Maybe the edges of his face, the sharpness of his chin was vaguely resembling some forgotten face.
She matched Jace's glare. "Whether informing the Clave on the importance or not is your tutor or my responsibility," Dismissing him entirely, she turned her gaze to the girl. "You must be Clary."
"Yes..." She said wearily. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"
It was Allison's turn to be confused. "I don't think so."
"Oh," Clary said unsurely. "It's just your eyes..."
Allison contemplated for a moment, drumming her fingers against the chair's arm. "Maybe we crossed paths. New York is a big city." She also added, with a lazy smile. "I do appreciate your thoughts on complimenting my eyes."
Clary smiled faintly, but Allison could guess she still didn't get the answer she needed.
"Do you have any idea why it may have attacked your mother? Any tiny information might be valuable." She asked, her training for questioning kicked in. "Cause with a curious mind like yours, probably an artistic one, someone must've been a barrier between you and the Shadow World? Any chance your mother might've been a reason?"
Clary stiffened at her analysis, but her eyes dimmed at the mention of her mother. "I don't know."
"Think Clary," Allison prompted her. "Anything unusual."
She shook her head. "Maybe the Ravener demon attacked by mistake."
"Raveners are search-and-destroy machines," Alec said. "They act under orders from warlocks or powerful demon lords. Now, what interest would a warlock or demon lord have in an ordinary mundane household?" His eyes when he looked at Clary were bright with dislike. "Any thoughts?"
"He's right, there must be something..." Allison thought for a while. Is it because it has something to do with Clary's angel blood? "What's your mother's name?"
"Jocelyn. Jocelyn Fray."
Allison stilled.
There was a Jocelyn famous among shadowhunters. She glanced towards Hodge, whose pleasant face didn't so much change. But when he looked at her, his eyes held the answer. He had guessed it too. Hodge knew Jocelyn Fairchild very well.
Allison had seen Jocelyn in one of her mother's old photos from her days in the Shadowhunter Academy. She could see some resemblance between them. But can Clary be Jocelyn Fairchild's daughter?
Hodge's expression was clear that he didn't want to reveal their theory. Surely there were other Jocelyn.
"Is there some other person you could contact?" Allison asked to change the subject. "Maybe they would know about your mother?"
"Luke," Clary exclaimed. "Our friend. He would know." A flash of guilt and horror crossed her face. "It's been three days—he must be frantic. Can I call him? Is there a phone?" She turned to Jace. "Please."
Jace hesitated, looking at Hodge, who nodded and moved aside from the desk. Next to a brass globe was an old-fashioned black telephone with a silver rotary dial.
"What's his full name?" Allison asked.
"Luke Garroway–Luke!" She sagged against the desk, the said person must have picked up. "It's me. It's Clary."
There was a murmur on the other end.
"I'm fine," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't call you before. Luke, my mom—"
A moment passed. "Then you haven't heard from her. What did the police say?"
A break while the person on the other side spoke.
"I'm in the city," Clary said. "I don't know where exactly. With some friends. My wallet's gone, though. If you've got some cash, I could take a cab to your place—"
She broke away and the phone slipped into her sweaty hand. She caught it. "What? We could call—"
The conversation went on for a few more seconds and Clary was trying not to cry.
She stood and stared at the receiver. She dialed the number again and waited. But she banged the phone down, her hands trembling. Jace was leaning against the armrest of Alec's chair, watching her. "I take it he wasn't happy to hear from you?"
"I think I'd like to talk with Clary," said Hodge. "Alone," he added firmly, seeing Jace's expression.
Alec stood up. "Fine. We'll leave you to it."
"That's hardly fair," Jace objected. "I'm the one who found her. I'm the one who saved her life! You want me here, don't you?" he appealed, turning to Clary.
Clary looked away.
"Not everyone wants you all the time, Jace," Alec laughed. For someone so moody, it was bright.
"Don't be ridiculous," Jace said, but he sounded disappointed. "Fine, then. We'll be in the weapons room."
"Ms.Graymark, why don't you join them?" Hodge suggested. It was obvious he didn't want her here.
"Then why else did you call me here? If I can talk to her, I can find something about her mother's location." She argued.
But Clary's eyes were already filled with unshed tears. Allison could relate to her. She didn't need to show her moment of weakness to everyone. Best Hodge calms her down.
Allison let out a deep sigh, standing up and stretching her long legs. "I'll go with them to the weapons room."
Jace didn't seem satisfied with her coming. "Do you have to?"
"Don't mind him," Alec said. "Come along."
Jace gave him a betrayed look.
"What? It's not like I'm interrupting a make-out session, am I?" Allison looked at the boys.
Alec made a strangled noise.
"There go my rendezvous plans," Jace announced and walked towards the door. He cast a look at Clary with doubt but left.
"She can show you some of her knowledge on weapons." Hodge clearly waiting for us to leave.
Allison smirked and turned towards Alec. "Well then, let me grace you with my unmatched wisdom on weapons."
Alec just chuckled.
~~~~~
The weapons room wasn't as stunning as the one in Alicante where Allison trained. But it was impressive in its way. Swords, daggers, spikes, pikes, staffs, bayonet, whip, mace, hook, and a bow were lined up against the walls. Quivers filled with arrows, leg guards, and gauntlets for wrists as well as arms were hanging on the metal walls. To a weapon's lover, it was a paradise.
"Since you're a specialist in weapons," Jace asked. "Can you suggest a weapon that could be used for beheading?"
Allison hummed, studying the wall. "Is there a test dummy you want to have a trial run on?"
"I have one," Alec muttered.
She walked towards the wall of weapons and grabbed a battle-ax, twirling it in her hand. The grip wasn't a fit and felt heavy. But close enough.
"I would suggest an ax, mainly because I've beheaded." They looked at her with wide eyes. "Beheaded a demon. No worries."
Alec let out a sigh of relief while Jace looked disappointed.
"There are these seraph blades that need some last touches." Alec walked towards a cabinet and took out the blades. He laid them out on the long table in the center of the room. Allison stood opposite to Jace who peered over it—three long slim wands of dully glowing silver.
"Are we just going to stare at the blades like it's going to sprout little angels from its adamas?" Allison questioned.
"Pity. If you'd stare at me, you could see my high levels of beauty." Jace replied, shaking his head, feeling sorry for their loss.
"And the high level of arrogance would blind us. What a pity since Clary just complimented my eyes." Allison said.
Alec snorted.
"Seriously, you're supposed to be on my side. Did you forget that I'm you're parabatai, Alec?"
"Hold on!" Allison made a time-out gesture. "You both are parabatai?"
She looked between the said two in disbelief, while Jace nodded.
Allison turned towards Alec, "You poor soul. Pretty sure you are not appreciated enough." She patted his arm.
The door opened and Clary's head popped in curiously. She slowly approached the table. Her curiosity made sense. She was discovering a whole new world, one different from the mundane one without her mother. Allison would go mad if her mother got kidnapped.
"Hodge said I can go home."
Jace nearly dropped the seraph blade he was holding. "He said what?"
"To look through my mother's things," she amended. "If you go with me. If you want to prove that my mom or dad was a Shadowhunter, we should look through my mom's things. What's left of them."
"Are you sure? The person who kidnapped your mother could still come back." Allison argued.
"I'll be going with her," Jace said.
"And that'd make the situation any better?" Alec shook his head.
"Look Hodge himself agreed to let us go. Besides," he turned towards Allison. "You should be the one going with us. That's your—"
"I have a different place in my mind." Allison interrupted him. "Clary, where does this Luke Garroway live?"
Clary's voice sounded remote. "He said he didn't want anything to do with me and my mother."
Allison sighed. "There must be something that he knows—"
"I don't want anything to do with him!" She snapped, her eyes flashed in anger, and stalked out of the room.
"Well, well," Jace set his seraph blade down. "It was a pleasure meeting you Allison."
Allison could say he was sugar-coating his choice of words. She didn't exactly pinpoint why he was irked with her appearance in New York but gave him a grin in return. "Likewise, Wayland."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Alec asked as Jace moved toward the door. He was half-out of the chair, eyes expectant.
"No." Jace didn't turn around. "That's all right. Clary and I can handle this on our own."
Alec sat back in the chair with a frustrated sigh.
Allison just propped her foot on the table and contemplated how she was going to find Luke Garroway. Sure, scouring through Jocelyn Fray's bearings might reveal something. She can do that later, though. Why would a close family friend leave Clary in this conundrum? Perhaps he is kidnapped or better, knows something vital. Or he could've kidnapped Jocelyn.
"So..." Alec started, rubbing his neck. "What are you going to do?"
"Track down Luke Garroway," She said, her gaze fixated on the unknown. She could head out to a local police precinct and see if Luke has some criminal records. Or maybe get into the database and search for some address.
"How are you going to do that?" Alec tried again.
"I have my ways."
"How did you become an Investigator?" He had Allison's attention now. "Cause I never thought one can join it as..teens."
"Guess I have a natural knack." She shrugged. "I've only joined a few months ago. So far, I feel like I'm going to rip my hair out. As much as I love the fieldwork, council meetings are a pain in the ass."
"I like going to council meetings. You're lucky to go even if you're sixteen." Alec argued.
She turned to face him. "Why?"
Alec blinked as if wanted to say something. But reprimanded with an awkward I don't know.
She just let him be, falling into silence again. Another thought struck her. She was pretty sure she'd heard the name Luke Garroway before. In some gossip in the downworld, him being the alpha of a pack in New York maybe. She wasn't entirely sure. But it does make sense in a way. Clary must have some connection other than her angel blood. Jocelyn should've needed help to survive the mundane world somehow.
There was a place where she could get her answers.
"I think I may have an idea to find Luke Garroway," She announced. Noting that his parabatai had blown him off, she suggested, "You want to come with me to a certain place?"
"That certain place is?" Alec eyed her, distrustfully.
"Relax, it's not like I'm going to take you to Hell. Though I very well may have fallen into a pit which would've led to the said place," she added quickly. "Again, couldn't have been to Hell."
He sighed. "Then at least tell me where this not-hell place is?"
"Hunter's Moon."
"Hunter's Moon? Why do you want to go to a werewolf's hangout?" He questioned.
"To eat the soft and lush, raw and bloody meat." She sighed. "Seriously Alec, downworlders there might know something if my initial idea doesn't work out. They're good at keeping dirt. Figuratively speaking. Though seelies may have real soil dirt."
"I've had enough conversations with Jace to know where this is going." Alec massaged his head. "What is your initial plan anyway?"
"Where's the fun if I tell you what my plan is?" Allison said cheerfully and stood up, wiping away the fake dust from her pants. "Let's go."
"You want me to come with you?"
"What do you think the former conversation was?" Allison quirked up an eyebrow.
"About you taking me to Hell." He replied dryly.
She raised her hands in surrender. "Fine."
"Look, Hodge might need my help here and I'm pretty sure Jace would mess up and I need to go back up," Alec explained.
"It's not like I asked you for a date or anything." She checked her weapons belt. She had a few daggers since she mostly avoided seraph blades.
"A date?" He looked at Allison. Bottle blue eyes were looking at her with utter confusion.
"Interested?" She bit her lip to stop her laugh. Alec cringed, searching for an answer. Not much of a dating person, she noted on Alec and decided to put him off this misery. "I'll contact the Institute if I find something. See you around, Alec." She walked towards the door. Though her hubris made her look over her shoulder and throw Alec a dazzling smile, "Better ask me on a date the next time,"
Allison strode out, starting her hunt.
Word Count - 4415
A/N -
I may have cut out a few scenes in this chap,
so it'd be a lot different than the old one.
Question - Should I pair up Allison with someone?
I already have an idea...though would love to hear more thoughts!
Don't forget to vote and comment!