◤He fell into it? Hurtled into it is more like. Headlong-crashed into it. Still, there are always some men like that - just one woman for them, and only she will do, or nothing. Quite poetic, don't you think, Miss Wayland?◢
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CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: SEARCHING
AFTER what seemed an eternity of being tucked away in the warm atmosphere of her chambers, with Gabriel Lightwood seated beside her, Marie Wayland decided to allow the boy to fulfil his duties. Her future parabatai departed to give Tessa and Sophie a lesson and Marie chose to stay and keep her head buried in a book.
Contrary to every other time her mind had been set on choosing a literature piece written by a famous author, this time - Marie had opted for Shadowhunter Codex and other useful Nephilim books. The girl had turned page after page, her eyes scanning endless lines on parabatai rituals. She had wanted to find as much information as possible and minimize the negative surprises to the lowest point.
The sun had begun burning faintly on the horizon when Henry and Tessa came to fetch her. With a bright smile on his face, Henry's honey-colored eyes invited Marie to lunch, his hand extended toward the girl.
Marie couldn't refuse him and Tessa, even though she wasn't necessarily hungry. Henry's bubbly and kind aura drew her in, the gentle touch of Tessa's calming Marie's restless nerves.
The three residents of the Institute had entered the room laughing lightly. Unfortunately, their cheerfulness died as soon as they glanced at the empty chair which belonged to Will. Jessamine was there and so were Jem and Charlotte; even an unknown warlock. But no signs of Will Herondale.
"Miss Marie Wayland and Miss Tessa Gray," Charlotte's soft voice reached the ears of the two girls as they took their seats at the table. "This is High Warlock of London, Ragnor Fell. Mr. Fell, Miss Wayland and Miss Gray."
Marie's eyes glided to the unfamiliar man who stood next to Charlotte. Relatively tall in frame, the man glanced at them with a polite smile. Marie almost had to suppress a shriek that formed in her throat, having taken notice of the warlock's greenish-blue complexion. The girl wasn't disgusted, simply surprised to encounter such an unusual complexion. She had never seen it before, but was aware that the color of his skin was his signature warlock mark. It was smooth, glistening under the pale sunlight, almost like the calm ocean surface.
But Ragnor's uniqueness didn't end there. His hair was as white as winter snow, easily outrunning the pale color of Jem's strands. Two small, elegant horns curled from the sides of his forehead.
The warlock nodded politely. "What's on the carpet, then, Charlotte? Did you really call me out here to discuss dark doings on the Yorkshire moors? I was under the impression that nothing of great interest ever happened in Yorkshire. In fact, I was under the impression that there was nothing in Yorkshire except sheep and mining."
"So you never knew of the Shades?" Charlotte inquired curiously. "The warlock population of Britain is not so large..."
"I knew them," Ragnor averted his gaze to the woman. "Shade was a little mad, with his obsession with clockwork and mechanisms. Their death was a shock to Downworld. The ripples of it went through the community, and there was even some discussion of vengeance, though none, I believe, was ever taken."
"Do you remember their son?" Charlotte continued quizzically. "Their adopted child?"
"I knew of him. A married warlock couple is rare. One who adopts a human child from an orphanage is rarer still. But I never saw the boy. Warlocks - we live forever. A gap of thirty, even fifty, years between meetings is not unusual. Of course now that I know what the boy grew up to be, I wish I had met him. Do you think there is value in attempting to discover who his true parents were?" Ragnor questioned.
"Certainly, if it can be discovered. Whatever information we can glean about Mortmain could be useful."
"I can tell you he gave himself that name," Fell replied. "It sounds like a Shadowhunter name. It is the sort of name someone with a grudge against Nephilim, and a dark sense of humor, would take. Mort main-"
"Hand of death," Jessamine spoke, proud to have a chance to show off her French.
"It does make one wonder," Tessa added. "If the Clave had simply given Mortmain what he wanted - reparations - would he still have become what he did? Would there ever have been a Pandemonium Club at all?"
"We can never know that, Tess," Marie narrowed her gaze to her friend. "Life has an odd way of achieving certain things. Had it not been Mortmain, it could have been someone equally as wicked."
Ragnor's eyes fell upon the two girls, an amused curve making an appearance on his lips. "Let me guess, the shape-changer and the lost Shadowhunter? Yes, Magnus Bane told me about the two of you. No mark on the shape-changer girl, they say. Speaking of the Consul's daughter, stories say Imogen had left a gift to her. Quite a dark one, if I were to believe them."
Tessa was the first one to answer. "No. No mark."
"I do suppose they've looked everywhere?" Ragnor smiled like a madman.
"Oh, I am sure they've tried," Jessamine responded absently, staring at her polished nails.
Her rude remark made Tessa drop her silverware.
"Jessamine, that's enough!" Marie spoke sharply. She knew what the blonde had meant and she didn't appreciate the comment one bit; it was rude and unnecessary.
"Oh," Jessamine shrugged. "Don't look at me like that, Marie."
Ragnor chuckled. "So, why am I here, truly? Am I to speak of the Herondale boy? I remember his father. Quite the ladies' man, he was. They couldn't resist him. Until he met Will's mother, of course. Then he threw it all in and went to live in Wales just to be with her. What a case he was."
"He fell in love," Jem spoke for the first time. "It isn't that peculiar."
"Exactly," Marie agreed. "True love doesn't recognize the boundaries."
The warlock sent a faint smile in Marie's direction. "He fell into it? Hurtled into it is more like. Headlong-crashed into it. Still, there are always some men like that - just one woman for them, and only she will do, or nothing. Quite poetic, don't you think, Miss Wayland?"
Now, he was toying with her. Marie was sure of it. There was no way she would give him the satisfaction of falling into his trap of confident provocations.
"Well," Charlotte broke the silence that arose for a few seconds, breaking the war of two hard gazes. "By all accounts they were very happy together-"
"Until they lost two of their three children and Edmund Herondale gambled away everything they had," said Fell. "But I imagine you never told young Will about that."
Tessa, Marie and Jem exchanged a glance. My sister is dead, Will had said.
"They had three children, then?" Tessa asked. "Will had two sisters?"
"Tessa. Please," Charlotte begged her to stop her questioning. "Ragnor... I never hired you to invade the privacy of the Herondales, or Will. I did it because I had promised Will I would tell him if harm came to his family."
The picture of young Will begging the Branwell woman to tell him if his family died appeared in Marie's mind. She couldn't help herself but consider the possible options as to why Will never spoke of them. It had to be hard, Marie knew it.
"Whatever it is that Mortmain has been planning," Tessa said. "He has been planning it a long time. Since I was born, when he tricked or coerced my parents into 'making' me. And now we know that years ago he involved himself with Will's family and moved them to Ravenscar Manor. I fear we are like chess pieces he slides about a board, and the outcome of the game is already known to him."
"That is what he desires us to think, Tessa," Jem told the girl. "But he is only a man. And each discovery we make about him makes him more vulnerable. If we were no threat, he would not have sent that automaton to warn us off."
"He knew exactly where we would be-"
"There is nothing more dangerous than a man bent on revenge," Ragnor spoke. "A man who had been bent on it for nearly three score years, who has nurtured it from a tiny, poisonous seed to living, choking flower. He will see it through, unless you end him first."
"If that is what it takes," Marie's voice was firm, steady. "Then it shall happen. I will not allow him to hurt anyone. If needed, I will personally send him to Hell. That is a promise."
All gazes rested on Marie. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that the girl was ready to end the man's life. Her stance said it all; there was a fire in her eyes and strength in her shoulders. They showed everyone present that there was no need to question her plans. The girl was ready to do everything in order to protect those she loved.
"You need to know that you are not alone, Marie," Charlotte spoke gently, her eyes softening at the girl. "Ragnor, I want to know why the Herondale family is in that house - that house that belonged to Mortmain - and I want to see to it that they are safe. And I want to do it without Benedict Lightwood or rest of the Clave hearing about it."
"I understand. You want me to look out for them as quietly as possible while also making inquiries regarding Mortmain in the area. If he moved them there, it must have been for a purpose.
"Yes."
The warlock smiled wickedly. "That will be expensive."
"Yes," the woman replied. "I am prepared to pay."
Fell grinned. "Then, I am prepared to endure the sheep."
*
IT was the blackest of black nights and deadliest of silence when Marie's eyes snapped open, her heart shaking at the profound sound of a bird knocking on her window with its sharp beak. The silhouette was dark, patiently waiting for the Wayland girl to approach.
Rubbing her eyes and prying the sleep away, Marie reached for her Witchlight. Warm light illuminated the bedroom, giving color to the walls.
In a few short strides, Marie approached the glass surface, opening it and glancing at the black bird. A raven stood still, a small parchment of paper tied to its leg.
"It's okay, little one," Marie whispered, gently patting the animal. It watched her with an intense gaze, its rich, black eyes a symbol of an abyss. "You have something for me?"
The bird let out a loud noise, flapping its wings as Marie retracted the note. The animal abandoned her presence as soon as it felt Marie's hands slipping.
Returning to her bed and sinking into the mattress, the brunette girl unscrolled the note. The paper was torn at the end, the damp air doing damage to the dark ink.
"My God," Marie mumbled quietly, opening the door for panic to swallow her cold body.
Was Will truly capable of hurting himself?
The thought rummaged through Marie's mind, crushing the little speckles of peace she had gathered through the day. Quickly, the brunette had dressed herself, exiting her door and running through the corridor.
She reached the music room quickly, surprised to find both Jem and Tessa occupying it. By the looks of it, the two were engaged in an intimate conversation, their frames awfully close to each other's.
The Wayland girl cleared her throat loudly, feeling slightly embarrassed that she intruded on the moment the pair shared. "I am sorry to interrupt the two of you," she said. "But I have just gotten something and I think that you have to see it."
Jem Carstairs' eyes widened, cheeks flushing a bright red. It was such an amusing sight, watching his pale complexity becoming overwhelmed with color. "M-Marie?" Jem said, separating himself from the Gray girl and praying that his friend hadn't caught on what was happening. "What is happening?"
"I just got a letter," Marie offered the parchment to the boy, glancing at Tessa. "You might want to read it. Both of you."
Jem put the message in between him and Tessa, their eyes vigorously examining the cursive writing. They travelled from one side of the letter to the other in an incredible speed, widening as they came to the end.
"I can't believe it," Jem exclaimed, his hand flying over his parabatai rune. "I felt it here, Marie." Jem's eyes met Marie's, filled with sadness and desperation. "I knew this wasn't an ordinary sort of absence. I felt it, deeply and unfathomably. It was as if a strange feeling loomed around my heart, a shadow placed on my soul."
Marie's heart was squeezed, hard.
"Do you think Will is capable of hurting himself?" Tessa questioned, further examining Magnus' letter.
"I don't think Will would do that," Marie voiced out. "I hope he won't."
"But he would expose himself to a danger purposefully," Jem commented, pursing his lips. He shook his head quickly. "I should not waste any more time."
"James," Marie said. "I hope you understand that I am not letting you search for Will alone."
"I agree," Tessa nodded. "I am coming along and there's no stopping me, James."
The silver-haired boy closed his eyes for a moment, sighing deeply. "Ordinarily, only Will calls me James. Marie, as well. In certain situations, that is."
"I'm sorry-" Tessa quickly apologized.
"No," Jem smiled kindly. "Don't be. I like the sound of it on your lips."
A delicate tension coursed through the air, surrounding the three friends in a veil of awkwardness.
"Pardon me for interrupting," Marie allowed her eyes to glance between the pair. "Although you love language amuses me greatly, my mind cannot help but think that Will is in danger. So, though those are his exact wishes, I prefer not to see him dead."
"Right," Jem stated loudly, embarrassment taking over. "Magnus wanted all of us included."
"Obviously," Marie said. "Do you think we should start with his room?"
A meaningful glance was shared between the three friends. Marie trusted Jem and Tessa's abilities greatly.
"That seems like a good start," Jem nodded, exiting the music room with a Witchlight in his hand.
He guided the girls through the corridor, stopping before Will's door.
Jem entered first, silent and steady in his step. "This is Will's room."
Marie needed no further introduction to the boy's room. She had been invited inside far too many times, joining the parabatai in late night discussions and coining of plans of demon hunting.
"Gracious," Tessa said. "I've never been in here. I was starting to imagine he slept upside down, like a bat."
The Wayland Shadowhunter heard Jem laugh. It was nice to see the heart-warming personality of his resurface after all the terrible events that tormented his poor being. However, she knew - as well as Jem - that now wasn't the most suitable moment for joyous feelings.
Together, the Shadowhunter pair began rummaging through the contents on top of a wooden bureau, even though they were aware that - had Will been present - he would have beaten the life out of them.
Marie felt her heart beating fast against her chest; it was almost like she was meant to uncover some deep secret of Will's and it left her breathless. She had to remind herself that she was foolish for thinking so, but the feeling of unknown never truly abandoned her.
When she found nothing, she allowed herself to glance around Will's room. Her eyes curiously examined every corner of his chambers; it was messier than she remembered. There were clothes draped over the backs of chairs and teacups full of cold liquid spread around every wooden surface. Even his bed was unmade.
Books were scattered on the floor, forming a maze for the friends to walk through. They were on the side tables, on his bed and shelves.
Marie couldn't help but wonder whether or not the condition of Will's room was a reflection of how he felt inside. Chaotic, messy, lost.
Slowly, the brunette sat on Will's bed. The mattress sank under her weight as Marie let her palm fix the wrinkles of Will's pillowcase.
Her eyes examined the way creases disappeared under her touch and just as she began to withdraw her hand - a piece of paper caught her attention.
It had been a torn page from a notebook, Marie concluded as she picked it up from its hiding place. The parchment was stained with tea, sloppy handwriting telling a story even through all the dark circles.
The Wayland girl knew that she was violating Will's privacy, but there was a thread of invisible force that begged her to acquaint herself with the written message. She felt her throat tightening as her eyes flew over the letter.
"Here it is," Jem interrupted Marie's reading.
She felt the blood coursing through her veins, making her heart pick up its pace as she tucked the parchment in the inner pocket of her purple coat.
She quickly turned to Jem, noticing the silver knife he had held in his hand.
"By the Angel, this place is such a tip, I wasn't sure I'd be able to find it," the boy said as he turned the weapon, inspecting it. "Will didn't bring much from home when he came here, but he did bring this."
"His father's dagger," Marie recognized the weapon.
"Exactly. It has the Herondale bird markings on the blade. It should have a strong enough imprint of him for us to track him with it," Jem informed, but his face stayed emotionless. Almost like something wasn't right.
"What's wrong?" Tessa asked, meeting the boy in a few short steps.
"I found something else," Jem said, lifting his gaze to meet both girls. "Will has always been the one to buy my - my medicine for me. He knew I despised the whole transaction, finding Downworlders willing to sell it, paying for the stuff..."
He sighed before continuing. Talking about his condition only made him feel worse. "I would give him money, and he would go. I found a bill, though, for the last transaction. It appears the drugs - the medicine - does not cost what I thought it did."
"You mean Will's been cheating you out of money?" Tessa asked, stunned.
"No, he didn't."
Jem turned to Marie. "Marie?"
"Will is not awful, although he might have presented himself as such," Marie sighed, glancing at Tessa. "The yin fen cost a lot more than we thought it would. Will told me that. He also asked for money. Not always, of course. Most of the time, he had overcome the difference by himself, not wanting to burden others with it." Marie smiled at Jem weakly. "However, in tough times, I helped. Well, technically, my father's money helped."
"Marie..." Jem tilted his head to the side.
"Don't you dare apologize, James Carstairs," Marie sent a threat in his way, her voice authoritative. "We are family and our duty is to protect those dear to our hearts. You ought to know that by now."
The silver-haired Shadowhunter wore a sad smile. "The two of you carry far too many secrets for your own good."
"Maybe, but at least their hearts are made of gold and humanity. Not everyone cares that much," Tessa said, sending a comforting smile to both Jem and Marie.
"Indeed," the boy whispered.
"I don't think it is a mystery anymore - the distances Will would go to save you. He would do anything for you-" Tessa began.
"I'm not sure I would take it quite that far," Jem commented.
"Of course he would," Tessa added. "Marie would. Anyone would. You're so kind and so good-"
The girl broke off, realizing that they were not alone. Jem, as well as Marie, had his eyes widened. There was no doubt in Tessa's mind that both of them were as surprised as she was.
A pink blush tinted Tessa's cheeks, but luckily for her - a faint rattle came from the window, not giving enough time to the Shadowhunters to notice.
"Cyril?" Marie's eyebrows shot up, her head snapping in Jem's direction.
"Probably," he said. "I had asked him to bring a carriage around, earlier today. We better go."
The girls nodded simultaneously, abandoning the room that had been filled with the secrets of Will's heart.
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NOTE:
I literally cannot wait for the next chapter and the one after that and the one after that... you get the point.
This one was kind of a filler, but it had to be written.
All of you know what's next. Somebody's about to get his bottom kicked. I wonder who!