The Time Traveler (Malec Fanfic with TMI/TID crossover)

Chapter 11

I've been to the London Institute once before along with Mom for some sort of meeting. It doesn't look any different from this one except that it looks more old and ancient-ish. It was quiet except for the occasional humming of a fire cackling nearby.

I followed Will into the recesses of the place, turning into corridors until he paused in front of a wooden door.

He turned to me. "The Christmas ball has ended a few hours earlier and for that I apologize gravely. Alas, don't despair. I believe the others would appreciate your visit and whatever else your reason for the trip. Oh and as far as I am concerned, I believe there are still some turkeys left—if that Lightworm didn't gobble it all up."

"Will," said Cecily. "That's not how you speak about my fiancé."

"Forgive me," replied Will though he didn't sound the slightest bit sorry. "I do not want my nephews and nieces to think ill-fitted of their father. However, that would be terribly amusing."

He pushed the brass doors open and brightness spilled into the dark hallway. Inside, a large gasolier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the huge room with yellowish light. A wide mirror goes around the length of the wall, reflecting the tall chairs encircling the long wooden table which were half full of people chattering gleefully amongst themselves.

The siblings entered and I followed behind.

Apparently, what I considered as gleeful chatter was actually a tensed conversation.

"By the angel, who in their ridiculous minds would blow up a third of London?" said a slender young woman, beautiful despite the thick, silvery ridged scar along her face. "And they're blaming this on us?"

"Sophie, dear. It will be fine," said a sandy-haired guy with grayish green eyes, placing his hand over Sophie's. "They must have been anxious by this sudden turn of events to point the blame on us—it must be a startled reaction from Idris. We are the closest Institute to the explosion anyway."

"But that doesn't mean all the freaky things happening around here is our fault," snapped a handsome boy, his brown locks falling into his face. "Where is Charlotte, anyway? Shouldn't she be keeping her brats under control?"

"Charlotte has a lot on his plate, Gabriel," sandy-haired guy said. "Being Consul is a daunting task. Keeping the Enclave under control is another."

Gabriel spat. "To hell with the Enclave—some of them don't even respect Charlotte! What does Whitelaw have to say in this, anyway?"

Suddenly, Cecily was at his side and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Gabriel seemed to relax an inch.

"What's going on?" asked Will. "And what does the Inquisitor have to do with this?"

"Penhallow claimed he heard an explosion near Blackfriars Bridge which set a third of London on fire." Gabriel explained. "Being the brat he was, he pointed it at us. As usual, the heads of the Institutes are acting like total scruples."

Will looked offended. "May I need to remind you I am also the head of an Institute?"

"I thought Charlotte was the head of this Institute?" I asked, and all eyes fell on me.

"Who's this kid?" Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "The party's over, what are you still doing here?"

"Gabriel!" Cecily said, aghast. "Don't be rude."

In an earsplitting bang, the lights went off and plunged us in total darkness. Someone gave a little gasp, and there was the sound of chairs being scraped back. "I'll take care of it," said Sophie. "It must have been one of Henry's inventions."