mirror shards // matthew fairchild {1}

eleven // how swiftly good things end

I realized in the middle of last night I forgot to update on Thursday, so you now you get two chapters. P.S., cw:addiction, general dysfunction

It's getting on midnight when the Merry Thieves, plus Sydney and Lucie, return to the Institute.

James motions for them all to be quiet, then pushes open the doors. They slip through to the hallway, and Sydney groans inwardly. In the parlor, her father is singing, quite loudly, in Welsh.

James and Lucie exchange a worried sort of look. In the spirit of trying to be a better sister, Sydney chooses to stick with them, instead of going to bed. She's very tired and, for once, does not feel any desire to force herself to stay awake. She can think about Matthew. That's better than thinking about Romania.

"Perhaps," James whispers, "we should all swiftly exit and ascend to an upper chamber using a window and a grappling hook."

"Maybe I could hide you all in my handbag," suggests Sydney.

"I doubt we'd fit," says Thomas.

Then Tessa appears in the doorway of the drawing room. She raised her eyebrows. Lucie and James look at each other again.

Lucie steps forward and hugs Tessa. "Sorry, Mam, we had a late picnic down by the river. Are we in trouble?"

Tessa smiles. "You are all scamps, but I hope you enjoyed yourselves. We can discuss this later. Your father has a guest. Go in and introduce yourselves. I'll just pop up to the infirmary and be back."

James leads the company into the parlor, Sydney and the boys all murmuring their greetings to Tessa as they pass. In the parlor, sitting in the grey velvet wing-backed chairs, are Will and Professor Ragnor Fell, who looks rather like he's about to go pitch himself into the Thames.

Will makes the introductions. "Ragnor Fell, my beloved son, and daughters. Also a disgraceful pack of home invaders. I think you all know Ragnor Fell, the former High Warlock of London?"

"He taught us in the Academy," says Christopher.

Ragnor Fell glared at him. "By the name of Lilith," he drawls. "Hide the breakables. Hide the whole house. It's Sydney Herondale and Christopher Lightwood."

"Christopher is often here," says James. "The house remains mostly intact."

"What did Sydney do?" asks Thomas.

"Did I ever tell you, Will," says Ragnor, "that your daughter has an incredible lyrical talent? She taught the entire incoming class of 1901 to sing 'La Cucaracha' – the version of the song involving marijuana, I will have you know. They still won't stop singing it."

Will grins. "Mr. Fell is here on a social call," he says. "Isn't that nice? Mr. Fell expressed a keen interest in Welsh music, so I sang a few songs. Also, we had a few glasses of port. We've been enjoying ourselves."

"I have been here for hours," Ragnor drones. "There have been many songs."

"I know you enjoyed them," says Will. His eyes are sparkling. Far above them, there's an odd sound, as if something in the house had tipped over and crashed. Perhaps a lamp.

"I do feel as if I have been to Wales and back," says Ragnor. Then he sees Matthew. "The Consul's son," he said. "I remember you. Your mother is a kind woman – has she quite gotten over her illness?"

"That was some years ago," Matthew said. He attempts to smile and fails.

Without really thinking about it, Sydney reaches out and puts an arm around Matthew's shoulders, trying to offer the same comfort he's given her before. His hands are shaking, and he grabs Sydney's, tightly.