Forbidden Parabatai | ✓

(8) The Lair

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Apologies for not updating, I'll try to update more often but it's been a busy week. Drop me a comment about anything-- how you feel about this book, reviews etc!

27 days left

Marissa turned toward Chantelle at the dining table. “Please tell me you did not summon the High Warlock to the Institute.”

“Hey, it was hard enough to get him to come, compadre. And besides, he said something about Lightwoods. He’s related to them, somehow.”

Marissa rolled her eyes. She greeted Magnus Bane with a smile, but Marissa never liked Downworlders much, especially warlocks. “Magnus?” Surprisingly, it was Pablo who spoke.

“Pablo!” This caused Marissa to groan silently.

“You both know each other?” She asked, politely, but hidden inside was suspicion and displeasure.

“Of course. And Chantelle Herondale, great to see you. And your friends.”

Chantelle gave up on correcting him. And he obviously enjoyed calling her Herondale along with her first name, so Chantelle begun to think he meant to frequently torment through emphasis. “This way to the library.” She said, almost adding ‘compadre’ as an afterthought, but Magnus wasn’t their ally, of friend. Not yet.

They entered the library, and apparently new HoloPlants were delivered recently. Everything was neatly stacked, thanks to Ares’ help of co-managing the place. Last night Chantelle met him again, but only briefly, for half an hour or so. They hung out at the library.

“Not bad for an Institute library.” Magnus said.

Andre looked at the different sections. He barely came here, since reading was totally not his style, and he wasn’t like Ares, who didn’t enjoy reading previously but gave it a chance, thanks to Chantelle. “It’s Channy’s. I mean, Chantelle’s.”

Magnus nodded. “I asked a warlock to come. She can help you with this, as well.” He wandered to the History section.

Chantelle was displeased a little at the thought of another warlock coming, but she masked her feelings, typing into a scribe. Scribes used to be people who wrote, but soon they just became devices that everyone had, and they did almost everything. Soon this might be a warlock party. She said in her mind, meaning for the words to reach Ares, as they gossiped about people like that sometimes, but she remembered he was no longer there to receive the message.

Magnus seemed to pick up her displeasure, even without looking at her. Or maybe he just expected such attitude from Shadowhunters, even though they pretty much found peace after the Sebastian Morgenstern incident. “It’s a Herondale.”

Laressa stopped dead in her tracks. “A warlock’s a Herondale?”

Magnus ignored the way she seemed to look down on the warlock already. “Yes, I believe you all know of her, but not her identity. She’s half-warlock, half—“

“Please Magnus, allow me to explain myself.” A lady stepped in. But not really a lady, she seemed pretty young. She was pretty, and seemed to lack a mark all warlocks had. She smiled at the Younghunters. “I’m Tessa.”

“Why don’t you have a warlock mark?” Laressa asked, although it seemed impolite to do that.

Tessa smiled, a kind smile. “I’m half-warlock, half-Shadowhunter.”

Laressa almost dropped a book. “That’s impossible.”

“Yes, but mine’s a complicated situation.”