Sequel to The Two of Them (But Really Many More). I know. So cringy, no point to it but the fact that I ramble. :P
So the plans that I had for this story mainly were meant to follow Lord of Shadows but then I started Lady Midnight stuff and couldn't stop. As such, I'm taking a very long tangent to follow Lady Midnight stuff and I'm going to be behind my regular schedule. This story's gonna be a bit longer than I planned, and I'm uber busy right now, but I'll try to do biweekly updates for those who like it. If people give reviews and like it, I might bump up the update rate to weekly.
For now, it is how it is.
Enjoy! ;)
Hunter blinked. "For how long?"
"I am unsure, however one month is what I have gathered to be the deadline," Fae informed them, avoiding Hunter's gaze. "Iarlath is not one to be taken lightly. I must take caution while he is present, so I fear I will be unable to attend any meetings."
"What is this about, anyway?" Wolf asked. "You're saying this guy is the right-hand man of the Unseelie King? And he just came to the Hunt to use Mark to make a deal to find a murderer?"
"That is the word I have been informed of."
"But?" Pyre asked.
"However I find this suspect as well. Iarlath's presence is indeed questionable. To come and enforce this decree personally, to resort to Nephilim for aid in faerie affairs, even risking the loss of Miach…Mark Blackthorn - each of these occurrences combined as one bring unease to my heart. I shall investigate for foul play, and yet I must be ever prudent."
"Don't get yourself hurt, okay?" Hunter advised meekly. "If this I-are dude catches you…"
Fae gave a small smile and put his hand on Hunter's shoulder reassuringly, but Hunter could see how forced it was. Hunter knew Fae, and he could read Fae's expressions of sympathy with ease.
This was not one of them.
It was more forced than anything. Whatever Fae was hiding under his façade, he did a good job of hiding it. He couldn't sense what Fae was thinking, though he knew that Fae was thinking. Their last encounter had never left Hunter's mind, and now that Fae was back to himself, Hunter could only imagine what was going through the faerie's head.
"Worry not, my Hunter. I know what lies at stake. I shall not subject you to my negligence, allow you to tremble in fear for my life. All with Iarlath and Mark shall be resolved within a pair of fortnights. Or have you no trust in my ability?"
Hunter blinked before averting his gaze. "You know I trust you."
"I understand that trust falters often. This hiatus shall not last and we shall meet again. Have not fear. I must depart, but we will meet again."
There was almost a reluctance within his promise, as though he dreaded the day that it came. Hunter simply hummed in acknowledgment. The others didn't need to be dragged into this conflict.
"See ya," Lock waved.
"Bye!" Pyre and Wolf said in unison.
"Come back to us as soon as you're able," Hunter requested.
Fae gave a curt nod in Hunter's direction, a small scowl forming as he turned away to his horse. "If it is your wish, I shall consider such."
Finn walked up to the Los Angeles Institute.
The Blackthorns weren't exactly the best people to hang out with if he wanted to get is mind off of a certain faerie - considering they had two eldest half-faerie siblings that were tragically missing, one of which being in the Wild Hunt, being acquainted with, and probably friends with Fae but who was also apparently being used in some faerie deal-
Alrighty, already failing at getting his mind off of things. This assignment to aid the L.A. Institute in rogue faerie control in California was gonna be fun. Can you feel the sarcasm?
He'd been told that he needed to work with the other Institutes in California to help crack down on the organization of faeries upset about the conclusion of the Dark War and the Cold Peace. Selina was currently at the San Diego Institute while Finn was in charge of the Los Angeles one. Thanks to the information that Fae had given him, Finn had been deemed one of the most capable of handling the situation. Little did they know that now he didn't have a proper source of faerie information anymore, both because of his 'fallout' with Fae as well as the fact that he had to leave because of his problem with that Iarlath guy from the Unseelie Court. It was a miracle that Finn had gotten permission to pursue the case in the first place, but Nephilim were in short supply. They were willing to overlook his faerie ties so long as Finn played it off that he was only using the faerie informant until he didn't need them anymore. That was enough for the Clave. Now he was in charge of the faerie operation.
Of course the Clave knew that with the Cold Peace in play, anything involving faeries was a touchy subject, but finding out that faeries were beginning to form an organization to kill Shadowhunters, Downworlders, mundanes alike wasn't something that could be ignored. Still, it was a quiet operation, meant to be kept as nothing but rumors and nothing threatening. It was usually a job for the Scholomance and the Silent Brothers and stuff, but Finn could be convincing when he wanted to be.
Hunter opened the front doors and walked inside of the L.A. Institute. At least he'd be able to see Emma Carstairs and the rest of the Blackthorn kids. They were fun at the very least, and they weren't strangers thanks to his parabatai ceremony with Selina. He wondered if Julian was still slightly miffed about the whole food fight incident.
Finn was surprised to hear that Julian Blackthorn was actually in England at the moment, along with the rest of the Blackthorns. They had left at the beginning of the summer to visit their great-aunt in Sussex - as the Blackthorn family was originally British (similarly, the Scion family was apparently Scottish on his mother's side). The Institute, in turn, was extremely quiet, considering that after the Dark War, most of the Institutes were short on numbers. There were a grand total of four families at the San Francisco Institute, one of which being the Scion family with just Finn now that Merida was at the Scholomance (as well as his uncle who was his legal guardian) and another being the Dalmasca family, consisting of Selina and only Selina. The other two were families Finn didn't care much for since there weren't any others of his age range. The only one he regularly interacted with was the Head for obvious reasons, and the Head was his uncle.
Then, Finn met Cristina.
She looked, upon first impressions, to be strong-willed, smart, a skilled fighter, as well as a nice woman. Finn needed to be careful who he trusted these days with the world going crazy and all. There were either really good people or really bad, sympathizers or extremists. But Cristina looked to be one of the good ones, not a stuck up snob that believed in the law so hard that they became immoral monsters and just plain jerks. Especially after what the Clave said about the circumstances around Emma's parents, Finn knew that she wasn't a devotee, and so her trust of Cristina helped reassure Finn of her character. (That instantly made Finn think of L.A. Devotee from Panic! At the Disco considering he was in L.A. and he'd just thought about devotees. By the angel, his mind was messed up).
Everything about Cristina was neat and put together. She managed to look as professional in her black fighting gear as most people would look in a power suit. Her golden good-luck medallion glimmered at the hollow of her throat and her family ring, twined with a pattern of roses for Rosales, shone on her hand. She'd come to Los Angeles from Mexico City for reasons she didn't speak of. It wasn't odd for Shadowhunters to visit foreign Institutes when they reached eighteen to learn their different customs, but there was something about Cristina that made her seem like she was running from something. Emma was running from loneliness, just based on her story about what happened to her parents, so it was no surprise that the two of them got along swimmingly.
Finn heard stuff about some Perfect Diego that was so perfect that Cristina was loath to talk about it, so Finn didn't prod. He wasn't unfamiliar with relationship issues, but just because he was dating a guy (was he dating him anymore? What was even going on with them right now?) didn't mean he understood the mindset of a woman. Cristina was that kind of person that Finn wanted to give a hug to comfort her, sure, but he wasn't sure how good he was at giving dating advice. In essence, he stayed quiet.
"The Blackthorns are coming back in a couple days, so you'll get to catch up soon," Emma informed him. "Arthur is here though, if you want to report to him."
"I'll wait for Julian and the others. It'll be good to catch up if they're so close to returning."
It was easy to forget that Emma was considered underaged for a Shadowhunter. Even she and Julian were close, but they were still 17. Once a Shadowhunter reached around 15, Finn stopped paying attention to their age. A Shadowhunter was a Shadowhunter from the moment they were born. It was a realization that he'd passed by his teen years already - his parabatai ceremony had taken place just before he turned 19, and now he was in his twenties. 22 now? 23? Ugh, he'd lost track of his age. Now that wasn't good.
Emma showed him to his room, one of many that the Institutes had since they could hold 200 plus and the numbers were already low. Finn sent a fire message to Selina and his uncle - Head of the San Francisco Institute, telling them that he'd be staying for a couple extra days to wait for Julian and the other Blackthorns returned.
Finn, growing bored of sitting in his room, went to the kitchen for a snack. The Institute was relatively the same as his own, albeit it had that small touch that showed it belonged to a family that had lived there for a long time. There were little details - moved locations of certain dishes, a coffee maker placed at a different location than back at the Frisco Institute, a notepad here, a pair of headphones there, maybe a paintbrush beside the sink, and weapons scattered about in different locations to suit the Blackthorn's (and Emma's) needs. There was an organization within the chaos, a mark that said this wasn't just any Institute kitchen, it was the Blackthorns' (and Emma Carstairs. You know, let's just say that when he referred to the Blackthorns, Emma was automatically included. She was parabatai with Julian and a best friend of the Blackthorn family anyway. Oh, but then that left the newest girl, Cristina…).
"What did you say your name was?"
Speak of the Nephilim.
Finn wasn't even startled when Cristian spoke up. His hearing, as a singer and musician, was already above average and sensitive without his runes activated. He'd heard someone shuffling about, and because he was already familiar with Emma, he knew that the unfamiliar patterns meant it was Cristina.
"Finn," he responded, searching the pantry for food.
With the Blackthorns ranging in ages, there were still signs of children under 10 years old (particularly Octavian Blackthorn - aka 'Tavvy,' who was only seven). Drusilla, 'Dru,' Blackthorn was 13 and obsessed with horror, or so Emma had told Finn. Then there were the twins: Tiberius Nero Blackthorn (Emma had made a point of admitting that his parents may have gone a little overboard with his name - "It's like naming someone Magnificent Bastard.") aka Ty. He was the very definition of organized chaos, a reader to the core who always had headphones for stressful situations and also liked animals. His twin sister was Livia 'Livvy' Blackthorn, a smart and imaginative girl who was bound to go far and who was very protective of her family. Both 15-year-old twins were into computers - Ty interested in the patterns they could organize and Livvy enjoying the math. They were an inseparable pair that would sometimes get into trouble but it would always be together.
Then there was Julian Blackthorn. Emma didn't say much about her parabatai, but Finn knew he was a painter, very protective of his siblings. Finn speculated Emma was upset that the Blackthorns had left for England and she was still here (why she hadn't come too, Finn didn't know). Being without one's parabatai could be painful, especially over such a great distance. Finn himself could feel a slight tingle in the back of his mind - or on his clavicle where his parabatai rune was, rather - from Selina being over a hundred miles away. He couldn't imagine the discomfort of being an ocean apart.
"Your full name, I mean," Cristina pressed.
"Finnegan Scion," he responded, grabbing a pack of Oreos and sticking one in his mouth before grabbing another three and returning the rest to the pantry.
She gave a small smile. "I knew it. You're the guy that people are talking about in the Shadowhunter world."
Finn chuckled and wiped the Oreo crumbs onto a napkin. "People are talking about me? You don't say."
"Let's just say there's a debate about you and Emma being the next Jace Herondale," she smirked.
Finn laughed this time. "Jace Herondale? I'll leave that title to Emma if she wants it."
"Why's that?"
"I don't wanna be a Herondale. Surprising?"
She shrugged. "It's expected of Shadowhunters to look up to the Herondales."
"For one, I like being a Scion. For another, I don't wanna be compared to someone who's mostly great because of his blood. Jace did great things on his own, I admit, but just the Herondale name itself just…irks me. Jace is practically worshiped as a Herondale, and sure he did amazing things in the war, but so many simply look at him because of his bloodline. In the Shadowhunter world, you're born great or not. If you're born with Downworlder blood like warlocks and faeries, suddenly you're always suspicious, you're labeled by the stereotypes, and those stereotypes end up forcing you to become what everyone thinks you are. If everyone treats you like you're a jerk, that you're untrustworthy and you never can be labeled as an actually decent person, doesn't it just…provoke you into wanting to lash out? A-And vampires and werewolves. They didn't ask to be who they are, they're cursed! Most transformations happen through accidents, and even when they're not, I'm pretty sure that if they knew the kind of discrimination they'd receive, they'd choose to be mundane any day."
She smiled gently. "You've done a lot of thinking about this."
"More than the average Shadowhunter. Sometimes I just get so mad. Prejudice and stereotypes are my nemeses."
She chuckled. "You're known as the guy who uses music as a weapon. You're already breaking stereotypes."
Finn smiled and nodded. "Thanks. I can tell you're not a fan of prejudice either."
She tilted her head curiously. "Oh really?"
He nodded and ate another Oreo. "I wouldn't have told you all that if I didn't think you were a good person."
"Well, I'm honored." She sighed, running her hand along the counter in thought. "It has always been my hope that one day I might be part of brokering a better treaty than the Cold Peace. Something fairer to Downworlders and those Shadowhunters who might love them. I, like every other Shadowhunter, know about Mark and Helen Blackthorn. Emma and the other Blackthorns, they all love those two no matter their blood, and I don't believe they did anything wrong. It's unfair, this Cold Peace. Something must be done about it."
Finn finished up his final Oreo and wiped his hands and mouth. "Good to know I have an ally in this fight. Let's just say I have some faerie friends from before the Dark War that I want justice for."
She giggled. "That rhymed. Anyway, I'm gonna head over to the training room. Go get Emma, will you? She's sulking without her parabatai and leaving her alone for too long is a recipe for disaster."
Finn nodded. "Duly noted."
-TTOT-
Finn found her staring at her closet pensively. The closet, however, had no clothes whatsoever. Instead, the inside walls of the closet in her blue-painted room (the mural on the bedroom wall of swallows in flight over the towers of a castle - a nod to the symbol of the Carstairs family - had probably been done by Julian since he was an artist) were covered in photographs, newspaper clippings, and sticky notes in Emma's cramped handwriting. The sticky notes were color coded - obviously, Emma wasn't an idiot - there were stories from mundane newspapers, research into spells, research into demonic languages, notes that Emma appeared to have gotten from Diana - her mentor - and she even seemed to have official Clave files…basically everything that she could find connecting to her parents' deaths.
"What's that?"
Emma jumped and turned to look at him in surprise before sighing. "Julian calls it my Wall of Crazy."
"Your parents' deaths? You don't believe the Clave, what they said."
She nodded.
Finn frowned. "I had my own Wall of Crazy once, my sister and I worked on it together."
"Your parents?"
"My mom. She went out on a mission, didn't come back. Apparently, her death led us to a big Downworlder organization bust and she was regarded as a hero, but Merida - my sister - she found out that our mom had filed for divorce, that maybe she hadn't gone on a mission at all, that maybe she'd just left us for Downworlders who she trusted only to get herself killed. Merida became really Downworlder-phobic after that, our dad wasn't very warm and fuzzy, and I didn't really know how I was supposed to feel." Finn walked over and touched one of the newspaper clippings on the wall, reminding him of the things he and Merida had taped onto a board so long ago. "I used to stare at our 'Wall of Crazy' for hours, but I think what I felt the most…was sadness. I wasn't angry, I was a bit confused, but mostly…I just wanted my mom back. I didn't care how or why she left me, I didn't care who killed her or why…I just…I wanted her back."
"I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about. I like Downworlders, I have Downworlder friends - though my dad wouldn't approve of it much and Merida nearly lost it when I first told her - but they're not bad people. There are good and bad guys out there, but blood means nothing. There are good and bad Shadowhunters, and there are good and bad Downworlders. Whatever happened to my mom, I wanna know, I really do, but at the same time, I'm afraid of knowing. What if we learn that she really did leave us, her children, of her own free will, only to get killed in such a…terrible way?"
Emma put her hand on his shoulder. "Your mom loved you, I'm sure of it. You shouldn't draw conclusions based on the Clave or incomplete information. You know who your mom is, right? That's what matters most, no matter what you find out."
He nodded. "I know. Maybe I'll learn the truth, maybe I never will, but I don't think it really matters, so long as I keep her in my memories. What about you? What's your Wall of Crazy about?"
Emma looked into her closet. "The Clave says that they were killed by Sebastian Morgenstern. I'm one of the few people alive who saw Sebastian attack an Institute. I remember grabbing up baby Tavvy with Dru following, carrying him through the Institute as Sebastian's Dark warriors howled, I remember the sight of Sebastian himself, all white hair and dead black demonic eyes, I remember the blood and Mark, I remember Julian waiting for me. I saw him. Saw Sebastian's face, his eyes when he looked at me. It's not that I don't think he could have killed my parents. He would have killed anyone who stood in his way. It's just that I don't think he would have bothered going after them." Her eyes stung with tears. "I just have to get more proof. Convince the Clave. Because as long as this is laid at Sebastian's door, the real murderer, the person responsible, won't be punished. And I don't think I could stand that."
Finn averted his gaze to the Wall of Crazy again. "I saw Sebastian Morgenstern too. I fought with my sister and my parabatai - well, at the time she wasn't my parabatai, but still. I don't know how long we fought. We fought for our Institute, then we had a warlock teleport us to other Institutes, and even Alicante. There was so much fighting that I became numb at a certain point. When I first saw Sebastian, I couldn't tell the difference between my fear and my rage. But I fought with everything I had because I knew that I couldn't sit by and let others be killed like that. I understand how, in all that chaos, that other people may be able to get away with murders that can all be blamed on Sebastian. Whoever might do that would have to be sick, but it's entirely possible someone might have used that war to their advantage like that if they held a grudge or your parents stood between them and their goals."
Emma sighed. "I've been thinking about that too. Anyway, enough with the dreary stuff. Why'd you come?"
"Oh, Cristina's in the training room and she said to go and get you since your alone time is dangerous for all of us."
Emma chuckled. "Well, we shouldn't keep her waiting, now should we?"
Fionn begrudgingly followed Iarlath's instructions and kept Mark restrained as they rode forward to the Shadowhunter Institute where the Blackthorns presided. He found this treatment of Miach very inappropriate, but Iarlath treated the boy as a prisoner of war, a trade off for this plan that he conceived, nothing more. Miach was loyal to the Wild Hunt, he had proved that many times, but Iarlath was not of the Wild Hunt.
It had been two days since Fionn and Mark had slept. Each time they rested, it wasn't for the sake of the other faeries - it was for Fionn to carry out Iarlath's numerous demands of him.
'You are Gwyn's most trusted torturer and informant,' Iarlath relayed. 'Make the boy afraid of all things Nephilim. Purge him of any thoughts that might drive him to return of his own free will. Scar him as the Wild Hunt must, make sure he is a faerie above all else. It should be a simple task for one such as you.'
"Leave me with the boy," Fionn demanded. "No one is to disturb me, else I shall slit your heels and cut free your entrails to beget a slow end."
The faeries of the Court nodded curtly. Fionn could see the fear in their eyes at his statement. The faeries of the Wild Hunt were used to his threats, but it was a nice refresher to see new faces cower at his cruelty. That was barely anything compared to what Fionn had done in the past, and yet the casual remark made them uneasy because they knew he was serious.
He took Mark within the shelter they had built. The other faeries took this time to rest, eat, talk amongst themselves, and whatever else they desired. Fionn cared little for their actions. Only Kieran was the one he cared about, and he knew exactly what Kieran was doing. He was sitting awake each night, hoping to sleep but unable to do so when he heard Miach's screams of pain.
"For whatever it is worth, know that I find no pleasure in this task. You are my kin in more ways than one. For my brother's sake, I shall make this quick."
Miach didn't respond. Fionn had already been dosing him regularly with hallucinogens, not enough to make Miach lose his mind, but enough to distort fact from fiction - reality from imagination. And that was a dangerous state to be in. Easy prey for a torturer like Fionn.
Fionn grabbed the weapons that he'd been offered for torture sessions by the other fey, but though he claimed he required them, that was a twisting of the truth. He required them to hide the reality of this particular session. Any time he interviewed a Shadowhunter, Fionn was the only one who could ever make them crack, and Gwyn valued that enough to not ask questions about Fionn's methods. Fionn tossed the weapons aside in favor of his own enchanted blade as well as his secret weapon - a stele.
Fionn only knew a total of two Shadowhunter runes, but they were more than enough to be useful for him - Iratze and Agony, healing and pain. He bound Miach's wrists and ankles to make sure that he didn't struggle. And he would struggle no matter what, even if he didn't mean to.
"Prepare yourself if you are able," Fionn warned in a futile attempt to brace Miach for what was to come.
He himself hadn't had the Agony rune used on himself, but he had seen the effects first-hand multiple times. Fionn had never dared even use the Iratze on himself. Just because he could use a stele to draw runes didn't mean he was able to bear them, and he wasn't eager to test it out. The power to draw the runes was most likely the Astral in him, and with his infection that mostly emerged when in contact with strong Astrals, he wanted to use the power as sparingly as possible. Wearing a rune might mean he would bring out the Astral part of him that was going insane. Being lost within that virus - the Scourge, as Seline called it - was a nightmare. Waking up from it could be more painful than the nightmare itself. He imagined that was what the Agony rune was like, just with a little more physical pain as well as mental.
He drew the simple rune on Miach's shoulder, having removed his shirt beforehand. The others expected him to whip Miach, maybe carve into his skin, and yes, cut his organs free one by one from the least important to the most. Instead, he was drawing a small squiggle.
The rune seared across Miach's skin - glowing red rather than the normal dull colors when Nephilim used them - and he screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice already raspy from a lack of water and the doings of the previous night where the process was much the same. Fionn knew that Kieran could hear, that his brother wanted to leave and yet he also couldn't abandon Miach. It only lasted a few seconds, but by then Miach was breathing hard and sweating from the torture. The Agony rune sent pain throughout his entire body without any physical evidence, though the Agony rune itself tended to last for a while before it faded.
Fionn waved the stele over the rune again and Miach spasmed like a monster was trying to escape his body and screaming for freedom. Maybe he himself was trying to escape his own body.
Fionn could tap into the Agony rune if he wanted to see what the victim was seeing, feel just a fraction of the mental pain. Miach was reliving the separation from his family, his days first being given to the Hunt before he'd met Kieran, as well as his worst nightmares. His family being slaughtered in horrendous ways, Kieran abandoning him because he wasn't worthy. The Hunt had used hallucinogens to make Miach see his lost family many times. They convinced him that they were dead in order to break him, and whether Miach had truly given in or not, it still shook him to the core.
There was so much confusion too.
"I am loyal…why…?" Miach muttered. "Why…? Why?! Why?! I swear I am loyal to the Wild Hunt and Gwyn!"
"This is no punishment for loyalty to the Hunt, Miach," Fionn assured him, but he was sure the half-breed couldn't hear him.
"I am loyal, make it stop!"
"The Nephilim have abandoned you, no? They have sent no scouting parties to seek you out, they have found you no Shadowhunter despite all you have done to prove yourself. It seems we have a past in common. Let me tell you something." Fionn waved the stele over the Agony rune again and continued speaking over Miach's screams. He was mostly talking to avoid the punches to his gut that came from hearing his friend's cries. "My father refused to accept me no matter what I did. I could neither run nor hide. When there is nowhere you truly belong, where are you to go? Being with the Nephilim seems to be a dangerous option. They will treat you with little respect and much prejudice. We do so in the Hunt as well, I admit, yet we honor you when you prove your loyalty. At least, I believe so - I would like to believe so…"
He renewed the Agony rune again.
"It must be your choice. We have luck on our side when I convinced Iarlath that the Nephilim would not accept the deal should we not give them hope of your permanent return. However, I fail to understand Iarlath's reasons for making such a dangerous bargain in the first place. The Blackthorns are the only ones willing to make such a deal with faeries under the Cold Peace because of you, and yet I feel disquieted at why we would need their assistance in the first place."
One more time.
"Perhaps I shall encounter Hunter. It is a slim chance. What am I to say to him? The Scourge is not his fault, nor mine. Yet I am speechless at the thought of an encounter. We are growing dangerously close to each other's true identities. What will occur afterwards, I wonder?"
Miach slumped over in exhaustion, but the Agony rune wouldn't let him sleep. He was tearing up now, but he wasn't fully aware of anything. He was still in the land of his mind, his nightmares. If he were any weaker, he'd no doubt be reduced to a dazed, mumbling, drooling mess, his mind permanently destroyed. But he'd recover. He was strong.
It was only a few hours a day for two days, and yet Fionn was glad that it was finally over. Hopefully Miach's family, if no one else, would treat him properly. Fionn's information on the Blackthorns confirmed that they would accept him and love him no matter the circumstances. Miach would have peace with his relations for a few weeks. Hopefully. But would that mean he would give up the happiness he brought to Kieran? Would he abandon Kieran to the loneliness of the Wild Hunt, the loneliness of being without his first and only love?
Fionn rose and exited the shelter. "I finish, Iarlath. Let us proceed."
He sure as Hellfire hoped not.
Emma Carstairs was no slacker.
She ran five miles a day up and down a beach. Every day. And that was after three hours at least in the training room. Half the scars Emma had on her body she'd put there herself - teaching herself to fall from the highest rafters, training herself to fight through pain by practicing barefoot. On broken glass. It reminded Finn of the days training under his father before he left for Idris and Sergei, their tutor, came in to replace him. Finn, Merida, and Selina were all weary of Sergei at first, but he proved to be a strict yet lenient teacher all at the same time. Though he was tough, he wasn't as ruthless as Finn's dad had been.
Finn had his own fair share of self-inflicted scars, but nothing compared to the long white line on Emma's arm from her sword - Cortana. She had gotten it the day that her parents had died, cradling the blade through the blood and the pain, weeping as it cut her skin. She was slightly self-conscious about it now, but Finn saw it as a scar she needed. It was an eternal reminder of her parents, in a way, showing that she cared about them enough to bleed in her misery when they passed. She was lucky. Finn had a scar on his back, going all the way down his spine. His father had given it to him during a training session where Finn was supposed to learn about polearms. The weapon he had been given was much too heavy for him at the time, but his father was skilled with a spear. He had slipped behind Finn with ease and sliced him right down his back, right down the ridges of his spine. Merida had slapped their father that day while Selina had given Finn an Iratze. Even after that, he had to go to the Silent Brothers for treatment.
Emma's scar was a reminder of how she would avenge her parents' deaths, how she would remember them and mourn them forever. Finn's scar was a reminder of how he was going to kick his father's ass one day.
Finn was hurrying out the door, having woken up late and missed going out with Emma for her morning jog. He was ordered by the Head of the Frisco Institute to stay with the Blackthorns for a while, and he decided that adding a jog to his morning wouldn't be a bad thing. After all, he and Emma were supposed to be competing for the next best Shadowhunter. Finn didn't care about the competition, but he also didn't wanna seem like a slacker. When Selina arrived, she might join him too. Or she might convince him not to take a morning jog and he wouldn't put up much of an argument. Parabatai, helping make important decisions in life.
He was running out the doors when he bumped into a man that was walking down the stairs.
"Sorry!"
The man was tall and narrow, dressed in a long coat the color of crow feathers, his hair short and graying. Finn recognized him as Johnny Rook, a notorious man in the world of the Shadow Market. Finn himself had done reluctant deals with Johnny Rook, but Finn had known to be careful. Finn hadn't seen Rook for many years now, he hadn't needed Rook's services ever since he found his Downworlder friends, so what was he doing in the Institute now?
Rook nodded to Finn. "No problem. You should watch where you're going. Aren't Nephilim supposed to be more graceful?"
Finn chuckled nervously. "Well, guess I'm still working on it. Sorry again."
He started to run away, wondering if Rook had even recognized him in the first place. Why would Rook have any reason to remember him if they weren't doing any deals anymore, after all? Finn started towards the beach, but when he spotted Emma, she was sprinting past him and surging after Rook. When he saw her, his eyes widened. She broke into a sprint and cut him off before he could dart around the side of the house, away from her.
Finn knew that Emma had to have gone to great lengths to get information on her parents' deaths, but doing deals with Rook? Now that was risky. Rook stood his ground against Emma, and though Finn didn't want to listen, he had nowhere else to go. He had wanted to search for Emma, after all. It was only when Diana interrupted, calling Emma's name firmly and demanding she leave Rook alone, that Finn felt it was appropriate to head back. After all, if Diana was personally interfering, who were they to argue?
Diana Wrayburn, the Blackthorn family's tutor. She was extremely smart, extremely stern, and extremely tired of Emma falling asleep in the middle of class because she'd been out the night before. According to Cristina, Emma had a rebellious side, predictably, as well as an on-off relationship with a boy named Cameron Ashdown. Diana did not approve of Cameron, Emma's revenge plot (a smart person in Emma's life with a hint of sanity!) and Emma's rash methods.
Unlike most tutors, Diana didn't live in the Institute with the Blackthorns - she had her own house in Santa Monica. Technically, Diana didn't need to be at the Institute all day. Finn remembered what it was like to need a tutor. Finn's tutor had been called Sergei, though since he was Russian, Finn didn't even wanna try and pronounce his last name. The man was a hardened Shadowhunter who got the job done no matter what, but there were still rare instances that he showed compassion and respect for his students. It was nice to see the dynamic between Diana and the Blackthorns, but she could be damn scary when she got upset - and Emma had a habit of upsetting her superiors.
"You don't scare me, Emma."
"Maybe I should."
"That's what's funny about you Nephilim," said Rook. "You know about the Downworld, but you don't live in it." He leaned in and put his lips to her ear, uncomfortably close. Finn wouldn't have been able to hear his whisper if it weren't for his enhanced hearing of a musician. But he did. "There are far more frightening things than you in this world, Emma Carstairs."
Emma wrenched herself away from him, turned, and ran up the Institute steps. Emma went to take a shower before heading to Diana's office, a comfortable corner room overlooking the highway and the sea. Diana was good at catching Emma, and Emma hated being caught. Finn ran inside, seeing that it was about to rain and deciding that even if he wanted to go out for a jog, it wasn't the best time. At least, that's what he told him. He knew that some Shadowhunter would be berating him about real Shadowhunters not letting a little storm stop them.
Ugh, he was having flashbacks about his father again.
He went inside to his room, pulling out the information on the rogue faeries that he'd been given. He had wondered why this information hadn't been given to the Scholomance, the Centurions, the Silent Brothers. It was clear, he thought to himself a moment later. It was a test. Someone had suspected his interest in Downworlders and wanted to know his affiliations. Besides, he had been known for busting a group of faeries before, and his connections were becoming suspicious.
The thought of the Scholomance, however, got his mind to other things. He wondered if Merida was out there now, getting the same mission to find information on this rogue faerie group. After everything that had happened, he started to really miss his sister. They were twins, never separated until she had gone off to the Scholomance.
"One of my three halves…" he muttered.
"You're back!"
Finn jumped out of his stupor and realized that the voice had been Emma. He jumped to his feet and headed out the door and down the corridor, removing his shoes in one swift motion and jumping on the railing to slide down. He had done it a million times as a child with Selina and Merida, and since the Institutes were so similar, he knew the way down by heart. When he reached the bottom, he jumped and slipped his shoes back on instantly before flipping in the air and landing (hey, if your shoes can't come off and be put securely on without any laces or straps, you're wearing the wrong shoes for combat. Tis the true sign of a Shadowhunter, honestly). He repeated the process, running across some railings and sliding down the ones beside the stairs, before he finally reached the second floor gallery overlooking the foyer where Emma was.
The space below was lit up as if it were daytime by a myriad of swirling colors, remnants of a vanishing Portal. In the center of the room stood the Blackthorns: Julian towering over the fifteen-year-old twins, Livvy and Ty. Beside them was Drusilla, holding the hand of the youngest, Tavvy. He looked asleep on his feet, his curly head against Dru's arm, his eyes closed.
Finn sat on the railing with a smile. It had been a while since he'd seen the Blackthorns, and it was always adorable to see young children. Finn still wanted to be a child sometimes, but then again, being an adult got you so much more respect. Tavvy was cute though. Who couldn't love a seven year old child falling asleep from Portal jetlag?
The Blackthorns had always been a family with a strong resemblance to each other: They shared the same wavy dark-brown hair, the color of bitter chocolate, and the same blue-green eyes. Though Ty, with his gray eyes, skinny frame, and tousled black hair, looked as if he'd wandered in from another branch of the family.
Emma sprinted down to her parabatai, and Finn couldn't blame her for freaking out at seeing him. Again, England was a long way away. She practically body-slammed him in a hug that was tight enough to crush, but a moment later he released her and stepped back, as if he just remembered that he had made a promise never to hug Emma again. Even Emma seemed off balance from the sudden retreat. He suddenly seemed more interested in his siblings, as if counting to make sure they were all there. Finn squinted suspiciously at the sight, but moved it to the back of his mind.
"I thought you were coming tomorrow morning," Emma said, trying to catch Julian's eye.
"Malcolm showed up early," he said to her, over his shoulder. "Suddenly appeared in Great-Aunt Marjorie's kitchen, wearing pajamas. Said he'd forgotten the time difference. She screamed the house down."
Malcolm Fade, the head of the warlocks of Los Angeles and a family friend of the Blackthorns. According to Veon, Malcolm had fit right into their crazy family of warlocks - him, Magnus, Caterina, Ragnor, etc. His eccentricity was like an old joke between them, just as Magnus's was a joke between Veon and everyone who ever knew Magnus.
"Then he accidentally Portaled us to London instead of here," Livvy announced, bounding forward to hug Emma. "And we had to hunt someone down to open another Portal - Diana!"
Livvy detached herself from Emma and went to greet her tutor. For a few moments, everything was a welcoming hubbub: questions and hellos and hugs. Tavvy had woken up and was wandering around sleepily, tugging on people's sleeves. Emma ruffled his hair, and Finn was reminded of that line from the parabatai ceremony: 'Thy people shall be my people.' If there was any doubt about it before, Emma Carstairs was a Blackthorn through and through.
When another portal opened behind them, everyone looked to see Selina walk through, stretching with a sigh and cracking her neck. "Finnegan Scion! Get your ass down here now!"
He jumped down to the foyer, seeing she was serious. "What's up?"
She walked up and smacked him, causing everyone to exclaim in surprise, but Finn held his hand up calmly to hold them back. "What's up? What's up?! I'll tell you what's up. You left me to handle the San Diego Institute all by myself! That's what's up! You got to hang out with the Blackthorns while I had to deal with this totally racist guy and his buddy who were trying to hit on me and then I drowned them in a tsunami! So yeah, congratulations, you are responsible for at least two Shadowhunters-!"
"Uh, Selina?"
She blinked and followed his gaze to the Blackthorns behind her. "Oh, hi. I'm Selina Dalmasca, Finnegan's parabatai."
"Uh, what's this about a tsunami?" Livvy asked.
She waved it off. "Oh, nothing. Say, have you ever had guys hitting on you before but they're just really not your type? Have you ever just wanted to shove them under-?"
"Okay, calm down parasista," Finn interrupted. "How about I show you to your room?"
"Yeah, yeah, parabro."
"Oh, I'm Finnegan Scion and we'll both be joining you guys for a little while. Almost forgot to mention that. Check with someone in charge for the details because we sure don't have them."
"Do they have a good armory?" Selina asked as Finn guided her up the stairs.
"Yeah, you should see the bows and arrows. Also the great swords."
As they retreated, they made casual conversation before Selina finally whispered, "We need to talk."
"Something bad?"
"Something…interesting. Let's put it that way."
The Blackthorns hurried to their rooms to get some sleep while Diana left for the night (as she didn't live at the Institute) as Selina and Finn retreated to Finn's room.
"So what's up?"
"Lock found a way to make sure my Astral power is suppressed and I won't set off Phoenix - Fae - next time we meet."
"Oh, so you went to see Lock?"
"He's the only one who knows about me and the only one who can help with this virus thing. Of course I went to see him."
"Whatever. Continue."
"The only caveat to Lock's spell is that whenever I'm around Fae, I won't remember anything about my Astral self. It'll be a bit disorienting and I'll have some gaps in my memories, but Selina Dalmasca has been informed about the situation and should be able to handle herself. I won't have access to my powers, either, so try not to get yourself in too much trouble, will you? Your seraph violin should still work since it's been blessed by a combination of mine and Mael's power - nothing that'll trigger Fae, but it might give him a slight headache at most when you use its magical properties; not when you play it as a regular instrument."
"I think that's manageable."
"There's more. While I was in San Diego, I took the opportunity to do some research and got some info from my servants-"
"You have servants?"
"As Seline, yes. Anyway, they're well informed and have told me that something is happening. Fae and three others are coming to the Institute - one of which is Fae's brother and another being Mark Blackthorn!"
"What? Why would they-?"
"To make a deal. But listen. The final person is Iarlath, a powerful member of the Unseelie Court."
"Fae mentioned him, said he needed to be careful while he was around."
"Whatever Iarlath is planning, it can't be good. By offering Mark to the Blackthorns he's giving them an offer they won't be able to resist, but in turn, the Blackthorns will be put at risk with the Cold Peace in play. I think Iarlath wants that - to keep the Blackthorns from getting help from the Clave since they have to protect Mark."
"That would be a good technique. So you think they plan to take out the Blackthorns?"
"Or use them. Or both. Depends on the deal they make. Whatever happens, you have to be present during that deal. I'm optional, but you are the most important. We need to figure out what Iarlath is planning, what the Unseelie Court is planning."
"Can't your servants find out?"
"The Unseelie Court is good at hiding from Astrals. I'm not a high enough rank to get the information that I need, I'd need more power and more powerful servants. Something is specifically blocking us from seeing what they're up to, particularly Iarlath. The only way to get info now is to make him spill at knifepoint. Keep that in your back pocket though. We use knifepoint and we'll have no choice to kill him, since letting him live will only ruin things."
Finn nodded. "I get it, Selina. I'll be careful and see what I can find."
When Finn woke up the next day, Selina was reading a bunch of papers and looking at pictures. As an Astral, he assumed that she didn't need sleep, and so she was already working on the faerie cult mission.
"Interesting."
Finn sat up and stretched, rubbing his eyes. "What? Find something?" Selina held up the pictures she was examining and Finn snapped to attention, snatching them out of her hand. "Selina, these are Emma's! You can't just steal these from her room!"
Selina shrugged. "She wasn't in there when I went to get them this morning."
"These are her parents! Why would you-?"
"She stole them as well, you know. This information wasn't to be leaked to her or any other Shadowhunter not approved for the investigation. I took them because I can read these runes."
He blinked. "You can?"
"They're Necromian, a type of faerie Astral." She took the pictures back. "These are the result of a failed spell. An experiment. The question is, who tried to use Necromian magic, how did they get their hands on it in the first place? Necromians don't just go giving it out for funsies. I'm going to send a message to see if any Necromian will step up or if any of my sources can find out who it is."
"Okay, slow down. What is a Necromian?"
"Exactly what the name implies." She tossed the pictures aside on the bed. "They're Astrals built upon the magic of the dead. Someone was trying to summon the dead, maybe even revive the dead. And they were willing to sacrifice the Carstairs to do it. Worse yet, this failure most likely means they will need more blood to get it right."
-TTOT-
They found Emma and Julian coming back from the beach. The Blackthorns loved the beach, apparently, but they were in California, so it would be more surprising if they didn't like the beach.
"What's up?" Emma asked, seeing their concerned faces.
"Information regarding your parents' deaths," Selina said bluntly, pulling out the folder with all the stuff she'd stolen from Emma.
Emma snapped to attention. "What?" Selina handed over the folder. "How did you get these?"
"You weren't in your room this morning," she stated simply.
"We're hoping to see if your parents and the recent other murders happening are connected," Finn explained. "We came to warn you. There are already threats that we're dealing with right now, and we don't need to add on to this killing spree."
"Sprees happen all at once, but in different locations," Selina corrected. "Like if you drive from place to place shooting people, that's a spree."
"Couldn't be mass murder either," Finn followed. "Mass murders also take place at the same time, but are in the same location. This is definitely a serial killer."
"The murders are spaced out over time, right," Seline agreed. "But there has to be a reason. Serial killers always leave a pattern, they target their victims because of some kind of trait, physical or otherwise, that irks them-"
"-and the marks that have been found on recent bodies are just a signature left behind to identify the killer - they want to be known - but it's not a connection between the victims, just the murderer. We need the connection between the victims."
Their parabatai bond kicked in without them even realizing. Finn found it so nice to be on the same wavelength with someone. What would he do without Selina?
"Dru would love you guys," Julian commented. "She's into true crime right now."
Selina waved away their tangent. "Anyway, the runes translated on your parents' bodies are dark magic, basically a sacrificial ritual, but it was incomplete."
"Incomplete?"
"It means that the spell didn't work, it means that there was some missing ingredient or something about your parents, Emma Carstairs, that wasn't compatible with the ritual in the first place - so either way, nothing good."
"What spell was it?"
"That's the question. I'm looking into it now, asking a friend for help, but you should all take caution. Whatever did this may yet come after the Carstairs blood again in order to retry this ritual, and there have been a recent string of murders going on lately that suggests whoever did this is still trying to find more ingredients, still trying to complete the ritual. Stuff like this, it only ever has dark consequences."
"This magic, is it warlock or faerie?" Julian asked. "Demonic?"
"Little bit of everything. In the end, all magic originated from the same source. This stuff is directly from a time when the only creatures in this world were human or…well, what you humans might call yokai. There was only magic and not magic, no different types to speak of. Old stuff, ancient, and deadly."
"What we need to do now is find the connection between the victims, find what this killer is trying to find with each one," Finn continued. "Is it their blood type, their potential, their eating habits, a disease they all have, what?! We need to know the spell itself and the key ingredient that's leading to all of these losses."
"Are you guys even allowed to pursue this case?" Emma asked hopefully. "Like, officially, approved by the Clave?"
"We're tracking something under Clave orders," Finn agreed, turning back to the Institute and waving back casually. "Doesn't mean we can't go off on a little tangent. Bend the rules. There's something suspicious here, therefore we can't not look into it. We'll just report our findings later."
Emma smiled and hurried after him back towards the Institute as the others followed. "So you can help us with this case? Your authority stretches beyond ours."
"We're not helping with your case," Selina said calmly. "We're just looking into a few innocent things, nothing more. Right?"
Emma nodded knowingly. "Right."
"You in, Julian, or do we have to knock you unconscious and take away your memories?"
She sounded deadly serious.
Julian nodded. "I wanna help all I can. We'll look into this, but do it quietly. First move is to compare the photos of the body you found earlier, Emma, to the photos of the bodies of your parents. If we can find any patterns, we might come closer to finding the source. Everyone will want to help, don't worry."
They started up the steps to the Institute, but Emma sprang past, up three steps, and turned to look down at Julian. "I'm taller than you," she announced playfully.
Emma had always sworn when she was a child that she would grow taller than Julian, but she had finally given up when he'd turned fourteen and shot up five inches.
Julian looked up to her, trying not to look to solemn, but unaffected by her attempt at lightening the mood. "Em, however much we might joke about it, you know I take this seriously. It's your parents. You deserve to know what happened."
Emma swallowed, looking down. "This just feels different," she whispered. "I know how many times I've thought I found something and it was nothing, or I've followed a false lead, but this feels like something else, Jules. This feels real."
He phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket, but when the name flashed on screen she shoved it back.
Julian raised an eyebrow. "Cameron Ashdown? Why aren't you picking up?"
"Are they dating again?" Selina asked. "Or are they broken up again?"
"I heard they were dating last," Finn said, opening the door to the Institute. "But then again, you never know with relationships. Girls are complicated, am I right?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm just not in the mood," Emma snapped.
The front door banged open and two figures surged past Finn and Selina. "Emma! Jules!"
It was Drusilla and Tavvy, both still in pajamas. Tavvy had a lollipop in one hand and was sucking on it industriously. When he saw Emma, his eyes lit up and he ran towards her.
"Emma!" he said around the candy.
She pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his round little-boy middle, squeezing until he giggled.
"You think we were ever that cute?" Finn wondered.
"Trust me, you were like a little puppy dog," Selina said. "Always complaining about Merida not being older than you, saying the birth records must've gotten it wrong."
"You remember being that age?"
"I remember waking up when I was reborn, sure. I'm an Astral, I've been watching over you through Selina's eyes for ages."
She headed inside as Finn smiled and watched the Blackthorn family interact.
"Tavvy!" Julian exclaimed. "Don't run with lollipops in your mouth. You could choke."
Tavvy removed the lollipop and stared at it the way someone might stare at a loaded gun. "And die?"
"Hideously," Julian agreed. "Fatally, fatally die."
He turned to Drusilla, who had her hands on her hips. Her black pajamas were decorated with cartoon drawings of chainsaws and skeletons.
"What's up, Dru?"
"It's Friday," Drusilla explained. "Pancake day? You remember? You promised?"
"Oh, right, I did." Julian tugged affectionately on one of his little sister's braids. "You go wake up Livvy and Ty, and I'll-"
"They're already awake. They're in the kitchen. Waiting." She looked at him pointedly.
Julian smiled. "Okay. I'll be right there." He picked up Tavvy and deposited him back in the entryway. "You two scoot along to the kitchen and reassure the twins before they get desperate and try to do the cooking themselves."
They scampered off, giggling. Julian turned back to Emma with a sigh. "I have been lollipopped," he said, indicating where Tavvy had managed to leave a blue sugar circle at the collar of his shirt."
"Badge of honor," Emma laughed.
"I look forward to a pancake day," Finn said. "I can properly introduce myself and Selina to the others."
"See you there, Finn," Emma waved.
He nodded and headed back inside. Emma stayed at the door for an extra moment, looking to Julian, but he had nothing to say to her. Finn had a feeling that he and Selina had interrupted something between them.
-TTOT-
"¡Deja de molestarme, estoy despierta!"
"Lo siento, pero Emma te quiera en la cocina. Desayuno. Panqueques. Chop-chop-e."
Cristina sat up and put her hands to her head drowsily. "You know Spanish?"
"Un poco. 2 years of Spanish, an hour per day on weekdays. I still can't keep up with real Spanish speakers, but I can translate the basics. I translated you said to stop bothering you and that you were awake. Sorry if I was a bit violent. The only thing that wakes my sister up when she doesn't wanna get up is a demon attack. Even then, she'd probably leave it to the rest of us and continue snoozing."
Cristina chuckled. "You sound close to your sister."
"We're twins."
"Where is she now?"
"The Scholomance."
"She's at the Scholomance?"
He nodded. "Top of her class. Skipped a few grades, kicked a few asses, left a couple years ago. We try and stay in touch with letters. I hear she's got a boyfriend, but they deny it. Hurry and get ready, I hear Julian's making pancakes."
He waited out in the hall as Cristina quickly got dressed in a pale pink sweater and pencil skirt. She seemed nervous as she heard the voices, raised in chatter, coming from the kitchen. She touched the medallion at her throat, seemed she did that when she needed a boost of bravery.
"Not used to crowds?"
She shook her head. "There are a lot of Blackthorns. I kinda feel like an intruder on their family unit. They almost seem mystical with the way Emma described them. They're the most important people in her life, and the ones that'll make the rest of this stay pleasant or miserable."
"Don't worry, we're all friends here. The Blackthorns are nice. Except to their enemies. They're very cruel to their enemies. In the end, they're just kids wanting to be kids. Kids with deadly weapons and combat training, but kids nonetheless."
"How'd you meet them?"
"I know about them from rumors of course, but I mostly met them at my parabatai ceremony. Also Helen and Aline's wedding. I'd like to consider myself a friend, and being around them makes you wanna be a kid again."
She chuckled. "You don't seem that old."
"I'm in my early twenties, are you kidding me? I've already got one foot in the grave."
She laughed. "Don't we all?"
The kitchen was a large room with painted walls and windows looking out over the blue-green ocean in the distance. A massive farmer's table dominated the space, surrounded by bench seats and chairs. The counters and table were tiled in what looked like bright Spanish designs, but if you glanced more closely, they formed scenes from classical literature: Jason and the Argonauts, Achilles and Patroclus, Odysseus and the Sirens. Someone, once, had decorated this place with a loving hand - someone had picked out the copper cooking range, the porcelain double sinks, the exact shade of yellow on the walls.
"I don't think I'm painted in a good light here," Selina muttered.
"You?" Tavvy asked.
"Yes. Look at me! I'm just a white blob in the sky. The brush strokes are done well, the tiles are placed magnificently, but the moon here is so basic."
"The moon isn't the centerpiece," Dru argued. "Why would it be so important?"
"Well, you see, I'm-"
"Selina!" Finn snapped. "Stop criticizing the artwork just because you know the moon better than anyone here."
"Better than anyone, period," she corrected.
Julian was standing over the stove, barefoot, a dish towel slung around his broad shoulders. The younger Blackthorns were crowded around the table. The Frisco Institute certainly didn't have this big of a crowd to feed all at once. Though they had a big table back home, they rarely ever used it all together.
Emma hurried forward, pulling Cristina behind her. "Everyone, this is Cristina. She's saved my life about sixteen times this summer, so be nice to her. Cristina, this is Julian-"
Julian looked over and smiled. The smile made him look like sunlight in human form. It didn't hurt that the dish towel around his neck had kittens on it, and there was pancake batter on his calloused hands.
"Thanks for not letting Emma get killed," he said. "Contrary to whatever she might have told you, we need her around here."
"I'm Livvy." She came forward to shake one of Cristina's hands. "And that's Ty." She pointed to him, curled up on a bench seat reading 'The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes.' "Dru has the braids, and Tavvy is the one with the lollipop."
"Don't run with a lollipop, Cristina," Tavvy said.
"I…won't?" Cristina assured him, puzzled.
"Tavvy," Julian groaned.
He was pouring batter from a white ceramic pitcher into the frying pan on the stove. He nearly started pouring off the edge of the pan while looking over at his siblings if Selina hadn't pushed the pitcher back so that it stayed at the center of the pan. The room filled with the smell of butter and pancakes.
"Get up and set the table, you useless layabouts," Julian ordered. "Not you, Cristina. Or Finn and Selina for that matter. You're guests," he said, looking slightly embarrassed.
"I'll be here for a year," Cristina pointed out. "I'm not really a guest."
She went with the rest of them to get the cutlery and plates.
Selina grabbed a bunch of cups for everyone and placed them on the table, satisfied with her contribution. She went over and filled a cup with tap water before then seeking out a box of salt and mixing in an insane amount.
"You like a lot of sugar in your water," Tavvy noted.
"It's not sugar, honey."
"What are you doing?" Finn drawled.
"I'm a Lunarian of the tides. I need salt water. It's not as good as water from the actual sea, but it'll suffice. I'm too lazy to go off to the beach for a drink anyway."
Finn sighed. "Why is this just coming up now?"
"You never asked," she shrugged. "I don't need only salt water, so I just drink it when no one else is watching. Honestly, it's so easy to blend in with you people. You're so inattentive, even you Nephilim. Now go and help set the table, you can't be the only one opting out."
He sighed and grabbed his seraph violin, playing a long note as plates lifted out of the others' hands and then flew over to the table, landing gently in place. He also spread out the cups that Selina had gotten - as she had simply set them down in a clump in the middle of the table. The Blackthorns and Cristina all looked at him in shock, but Selina wasn't impressed and Julian stayed focused on his pancakes.
"There, I've contributed," he announced. "Happy?"
"Cheater," Selina muttered as she drank her salt water.
"How does that thing work?" Livvy inquired.
"Adamas?" Dru asked, examining the instrument closely. "Infused with high levels of angelic energy to produce a wave of energy under your control - basically everything with range of the music is inside a bubble and you can move things around that bubble at will. Or something like that."
Finn chuckled at her attempt to detective her way through. "Close enough. The Iron Sisters made it especially for me. It's unique, one of a kind."
"Cool!" Tavvy exclaimed. "I want one!"
"But if you get one then it won't be one of a kind anymore," Dru pointed out.
"No, you can't have Finn's," Julian called, reading Tavvy's thoughts.
Ty was still reading his book.
There was a comfortable buzz of pleasant activity that would make any decent person relax. The Blackthorns had a nice family unit, and Finn hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd last been with the Blackthorns like this. He wanted to see what it was like with all seven of them. He wanted to see Helen and Mark Blackthorn among them.
"First pancakes are up," Julian announced.
Ty finally put down his book and picked up his plate. "I thought you forgot it was pancake day."
There was accusation in his voice, and something else besides - a slight edge of nervousness? Emma had once said casually that Ty got upset when his routine was interrupted. Finn admitted that he was the same, but who was he to complain when something good surprised him? When something bad surprised him, it often made him want to punch something in the face.
"I didn't forget, Ty," Julian said gently. "I was distracted, but I didn't forget."
Ty seemed to relax. "All right."
He went back over to the table and Tavvy bounded after him. They were organized, the Blackthorns, in the unconscious way that only a family could be: knowing who got pancakes first (Ty), who wanted butter and syrup (Dru), who wanted just syrup (Livvy), and who wanted sugar (Emma). Cristina and Finn both wanted theirs plain, and Selina predictably added salt.
"Just don't think about it too hard," Finn advised when some of them began to stare.
The pancakes were buttery and not too sweet, crisp around the edges.
"These are good," Cristina commented to Julian, who had finally sat down on a bench seat beside Emma.
Up close, Finn could see the lines of tiredness at the edges of his eyes, lines that seemed out of place on the face of a boy so young.
"Practice," Julian explained, giving a smile. "I've been making them since I was twelve."
"Me and Mer dragged Finnegan into cooking," Selina commented. "We figured that if the girls had to learn how to cook, so did he."
"I can make a mean spaghetti," Finn deadpanned.
"Oh, come now. You can follow a cookbook better than Isabelle Lightwood - no offense to her, but some offense to her. At least you follow the recipe exactly and don't make any…improvements. Finn's food actually comes out decent, even if it doesn't have the flare of actual chef's."
"I cut the ingredients to the milligram." Finn pulled out one of his knives. "Can slice a vegetable with a throwing knife from across the room."
"It requires nearly half his knives to properly slice it up into all the necessary pieces though. No one can be in the kitchen when he gets to work."
Cristina chuckled. "Can't you learn the normal way of chopping up food?"
"He would, but he'd sooner die of boredom."
"Got that right," Finn agreed. "It's more fun to chop your vegetables from a distance. The Shadowhunter way."
Livvy gave a bounce in her seat. "It's so good to be back," she said, licking syrup off her finger. "It just wasn't the same at Great-Aunt Marjorie's without you two looking after us." She pointed at Emma and Julian. "I see why they say you shouldn't separate parabatai. You just go together like-"
"Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson," Ty suggested, who had gone back to reading.
"Chocolate and peanut butter," Tavvy piped up.
"The sea and the earth," Selina mused.
"Captain Ahab and the whale," said Dru, who was dreamily drawing patterns in the syrup on her empty plate.
Emma choked on her juice. "Dru, the whale and Captain Ahab were enemies."
"True," Julian agreed. "The whale without Ahab is just a whale. A whale with no problems. A stress-free whale."
"How terrifying," Finn exclaimed sarcastically.
"No whale should ever be without an enemy," Selina agreed in the same tone. "Then again, the whale gods would probably kill me for saying that…"
Dru looked mutinous. "I heard you guys talking. I was out on the lawn, before I went back in to get Tavvy. Emma finding a body, murders, a ritual?"
Ty looked up immediately. "Emma found a body?"
Emma glanced a little worriedly at Tavvy, but he appeared absorbed in his food. "Well, while you guys were gone, there've been a series of murders-"
"Murders? How come you didn't say anything to Julian or us about it?" Ty was bolt upright now, his book dangling from his hand. "You could have sent an e-mail or a fire-message or a postcard-"
"A murder postcard?" Livvy repeated, wrinkling up her nose.
"I only found out about it the night before last," Emma jumped in defensively.
She explained going to a Sepulchre, encountering a faerie attempting to steal a myriad of jewelry. The fey had used the mentioning of Mark Blackthorn in order to get the jump on Emma, and while she was chasing him down, that's when she found the body.
"The body was covered in runes," she finished. "The same kind of markings that were on my parents' bodies when they were found."
"No one's been able to translate those, right?" Livvy remembered.
"No one," Emma confirmed, shaking her head. "Malcolm, Diana, even the Spiral Labyrinth," she added, naming the underground headquarters of the world's warlocks, where a great deal of arcane knowledge was hidden.
"Well that was before Selina came along and said she knew what they were," Finn announced.
Selina sat forward, pulling out a notepad from her pocket. "I've translated a few of the demonic symbols to English, but pronouncing them in their original language will result in disastrous effects. In essence, this is an ancient ritual and these bodies have been sacrifices."
"Where did you learn this language?" Cristina inquired. "If even the best resources out there can't translate them, how did you-?"
"I have my quirks," Selina said simply. "Don't be jealous just because I read a language that even many immortals don't understand."
Cristina's eyes narrowed and Finn pinched Selina's arm. "Ow! What was that for?!"
"It's like you want them to see you as some sort of criminal," Finn muttered. "Being all cryptic, showing off."
"I've got nothing to hide. Your dad is scarier than any of them. Besides, they're the Blackthorns. They're like the only other family I trust besides the Scions and…I don't know, the Lightwoods."
"Not the Herondales? Fairchild?"
"Herondales are blech. I don't know what Clary sees in Jace. Women seem attracted to him, somehow. Makes me wanna punch him in the face."
Finn sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, guess that's not any different than usual. You abhor all things romance. Can we just get back to the subject at hand? Murders, rituals, sacrifices, magic markings?"
"Before, they were unique as far as we knew," Ty recalled. His eyes were really a very startling gray, like the back of a silver spoon. A pair of headphones hung around his neck, the cord snaking down into his shirt. "Now there's another example. Have you compared them yet?"
"I haven't gotten the specs on the new dead guy," Selina admitted.
Emma produced a piece of paper and set it on the table. Ty picked it up immediately. "I made a list of everything I know about the body. Some is what I saw, some I heard from Johnny Rook and Diana. The fingertips were sanded down, teeth broken, wallet missing."
"If I can get a look at this new body, I might be able to see if there are both similarities and differences to your parents," Selina said. "If this is the same caster, then there'll be a pattern in the runes. Every type of magic leaves a fingerprint. Even if I can't get to the body, I can determine a lot just from seeing the locations of the runes and the condition of the body itself. What have you got already?"
"Here, I took some pictures," Cristina said, fiddling with her phone before handing it over to Selina.
"On top of going to great lengths to hide the identity - which is probably not uncommon - the body was soaked in seawater and showed signs of burning, and was lying in a chalked ring of symbols," Emma explained. "And was covered in writing. That seems unusual."
"Water and fire together," Finn muttered. "Now that definitely sounds like some ritual. Sound like anything you know of, Seels?"
"Beyond knowing the dark qualities, the combination of opposite forces lead to numerous options," Selina informed him. "Hell, even light magic rituals use opposites for a maximum magic output."
"Maybe they're the sort of things you could search for in back archives of mundane newspaper articles," said Ty. His gray eyes glowed with excitement. "I'll do it."
"Thank you," Emma said. "But…" She glanced toward Julian, and then around at the others, her brown eyes grave. "Diana can't know. No one outside this room right now can know."
"Why not?" Dru asked, frowning. "I understand the Clave and word about this getting out being dangerous, but Diana?"
Tavvy was paying no attention at all; he'd gotten down on the floor and was playing under the table with a set of toy trucks.
"Several of the dead bodies were fey," Finn explained. "Selina and I are already on a case involving rogue faeries in California. The Clave wants to keep it under wraps, but perhaps this is growing out of control. It won't be long before the Clave takes this case out of our hands again. This information should be put squarely out of any territory you Blackthorns should be messing with no matter what. However, this is connected to Emma's parents. It wasn't a development that we had predicted, but an interesting one nonetheless. If Selina and I can hold on to our authority on this case a little longer, we may yet be able to find a connection, as well as aid Emma in finding answers, and perhaps even her vengeance. With that new body coming in, it won't be long before this is given to the higher ups. If you want the information we can gather, I suggest we get started now."
Emma glanced over at Cristina. "If you don't want to do any of this, that's fine. Faerie business is tricky and Diana doesn't want us involved."
"You know how I feel about the Cold Peace," Cristina said. "Absolutely I will help."
There was a murmur of agreement from the others.
"Told you not to worry," Julian said, touching Emma's shoulder lightly before standing up to start clearing the breakfast dishes. "You've got today off from classes, Diana's gone up to Ojai, so now's a good time for us to do this. Especially since we've got Clave testing this weekend."
There was a collective groan. Clave testing was a twice-yearly chore in which students were evaluated to see if their skills were up to par or if they needed to be sent to the Academy in Idris.
Finn laughed. "I remember Clave testing."
"We got to opt out since we started missions at 13 and never stopped from there," Selina reminisce.
"Lucky!" Dru whined. "They let you opt out?!"
"Our mentor, Sergei, offered to personally train and evaluate us," Finn explained. "He was a good man. I miss Sergei. I hear that he went back to Idris since his daughter died in an attack during the Dark War."
"Worse, she was turned into one of those Endarkened," Selina said solemnly. "His wife had already died in a sketchy mission given by the Clave, so he was already skeptical about them and their authority - what with Valentine being a prime example that they don't have everything under control and are so stubborn that they'll let things get that bad before they take action. There were rumors that he would abandon the Clave, the Shadowhunters, after losing his daughter too, but then he was assigned to help some orphaned kids after the war. He was the only one willing to try and deal with the traumatized and destructive children, try and help them move on from the major changes - aka all the death and loss. He had a change of heart. If nothing else, he was going to protect the next generation from the Clave's mistakes. He has an adoptive son from after the war - son of Jim Callenreese. James? Jake? Jade? Something like that."
"Wait, wasn't Callenreese the name of that kid who got kicked out of the Academy for disciplinary issues?"
"Um…oh, you're right! Jade Callenreese, wanted to change his name to Ash - the dust left behind after the destruction and corruption that took his parents and his brother. He's made some friends though, he's getting better. Still a rebel to the core, but he's got people looking out for him - as much as you can look out for a kid that's willing to slit your throat if you look at him the wrong way. He respects Sergei and Sergei respects him equally, I know that much. I think they've both found a reason to keep faith in the world in each other."
"It's good to know Sergei's doing well. You ever wonder if he's gonna get remarried?"
"I highly doubt it. He only had one love in the form of his wife."
"Remember when he said he was gonna retire in the Caribbean?"
"He can't get away from the action. He acts all tough and uncaring, but he has his likes and dislikes."
"They go off on tangents like this often," Emma explained to Cristina in a whisper. "You just have to go with it."
"Is is a parabatai thing?" Cristina whispered back.
Emma shrugged. "Maybe a little."
Ty ignored Julian's announcement about Clave testing as well as the side conversation that Finn and Selina had moved to in favor of looking at Emma's paper with the list of her current progress in the investigation. "How many have died, exactly? People and faeries?"
"Twelve," Emma said. "Twelve dead bodies."
Tavvy emerged from under the table. "Were they all running with lollipops?"
Ty looked baffled, Emma guilty, Tavvy slightly lip-wobbly.
"Worse kid," Selina said. "They were sprinting with lollipops."
Finn whacked her on the arm.
"Maybe that's enough for now," Julian said, scooping up his smallest brother. "Let's see what you find out, Tiberius, Livia?"
Ty murmured assent, rising to his feet.
"Cristina and I were going to practice with Finnegan and Selina, but we can-"
"No! Don't cancel it!" Livvy interrupted, bouncing upright. "I need to practice! With another girl. Who isn't reading." She shot a glare at Dru. "Or watching a horror movie." She glanced over at her twin. "I'll help Ty for half an hour. Then I'll come to train. And I need a new partner to spar with too. I can't practice with the same people over and over, I need experience with unfamiliar situations. You promised me a duel, Finnegan."
"You did?" Selina asked.
"I did?" Finn asked.
"You've promised right now. I'll see you after I help Ty."
Ty nodded and slipped his headphones on, making his way towards the door. Livvy went with him, chattering about how she'd missed training and her saber, and about how their great-aunt's idea of a training room was her barn, which was full of spiders.
"Guess I better get prepared for the famous Livvy and her saber," Finn said, standing and heading to the training room with Selina in tow.
Cristina was close behind, but she stopped at the door and Selina paused to look back, hearing the lower whispers of Emma and Julian. Cristina observed them with a thoughtful look in her eyes, a sad one, almost. It was as though seeing the sort of intimacy between parabatai was painful to overhear.
"You don't have to do this for me," Emma was saying, softly but earnestly, in a voice that she reserved only for her parabatai.
"I think I do," Julian said. "I think I remember making a vow to that effect."
"'Whither thou goest, I will go, whatever stupid thing you do, I shall do also?' Was that the vow?"
Julian laughed. "I have no doubt it was in the fine print. Finn and Selina took the vow too, and look at them. Ask them, I bet they'll agree. Doing stupid things with your parabatai is a guarantee."
Cristina dashed away, not looking back and passing Selina without even noticing she was there. Selina wondered if Cristina wanted a parabatai, perhaps she had once had one in mind but it had never worked out. She had lost her potential parabatai in some way, perhaps. Death, an argument, family, other parabatai. Whatever it was, Cristina was very upset about it, though she had worked to hide her feelings and get over them.
Selina frowned at her. Nephilim work so hard to hide their pain that they end up destroying themselves in the process. She would never understand humans, why they went to such great lengths to pretend so often. Just because she knew how to hide amongst them, how to lie and deceive, it didn't mean she would ever understand the human soul. It just wasn't possible for her.
Not anymore.
Chapter title from "Plains of Eternity" from Final Fantasy XIII-2
In case you haven't read the bomb of rambling that is The Five of Them (But Really Many More) - and you really should before you delve into this story - Amalspach convinced me to make each chapter based off the title of a song, which I liked the idea of, so here we are.
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