ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴʟʏ ꜰɪʀᴇ ~ ᴛᴍɪ

Chapter 1 - New York Institute

"Committed suicide, slimy like a slug found in a year old boots," Allison Graymark, partly annoyed and partly amused, read out aloud. "Not to sound peeved, but who the hell wrote this?"

Hodge Starkweather, who looked like he had to deal with questions like these for a long, dreary time, sighed deeply. "Not the one who usually writes it."

"As much as this lies high up in the humor department, I would suggest something more proper," She stared at the file she had in her lap. The one who usually writes before was good at keeping things short and precise. This one had a really bad sense of humor. Well, as bad as Allison's humor would be head-on.

"This is just a draft. I'll send the correct one later after the more important issues are settled." She looked up to meet the old scholar's face.

For a moment it seemed to her that he was strangely misshapen, his left shoulder humped and higher than the other. As he approached from the shadow to sit in his chair, she saw that the hunch was a bird, perched neatly on his shoulder—a glossy feathered creature. Its bright black eyes shined from the light sifted through the cloured glass windows.

The New York Institute's Library was unique among its kind, as all Institutes had their notable feature. It was circular as if built inside a tower, a cathedral to be precise due to its dome-shaped area. High shelves with hundreds of books were lined alongside the walls with tall ladders perched beside.

Though the books weren't the ones you would find in a bookshop—leather bounded and clasped with locks and hinges. Which makes sense, since some spat fire occasionally and some tend to bite your head off. One, back at Alicante, let out a gas which made Allison lose her sense of smell for almost a week.

Hodge sat behind the incredible desk which made Allison a tad bit jealous. All Investigators have their offices in the Council room in Alicante. But her's wouldn't even be as big as the Inquisitor's bathroom. After all, she was just a Junior Investigator.

"This report is just a fake?" She asked, eyeing the said file. "You called because of the problem with the mundane, Clary is it?"

"I will make this as short as possible, Ms.Graymark." Hodge leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "There was a demon activity in the Pandemonium Club. My students—this Institute's residents—were to take care of it. They succeeded, yet spotted a mundane with the Sight. I was curious, and leaving a mundane with Sight without knowledge of what they're seeing would make them mad. Hence I sent for her, where we found out her home was attacked and her mother was kidnapped. She—Clary Fray—was wounded badly and an iratze worked on her. Amidst this conundrum, I thought an Investigator would settle this soon." He smiled a bit. "But I want it to be kept silent. A reason why I requested you personally."

"Because I'm unhinged, erratic, and would go around the Clave's eyes to make myself shine?"

He hesitated a moment. "If I know any Herondale, they are quite covert."

"Then let me stop you right there," Allison tossed the file into his desk. "One thing you should know about me, I loathe being mentioned as a Herondale. I am a Graymark, first and foremost, even though my grandmother is Imogen Herondale. We both don't tolerate covert doings if you know anything about us."

Hodge hesitated once again, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. Investigators held authority far greater than the Heads of an Institute. Allison's grandmother is also one of the most powerful Inquisitors the Clave has ever had. And her reputation...it was a handful to get about. Yet, she was just a sixteen-year-old teen.

"We can conclude informing the Clave after meeting the girl," Hodge reprimanded.

"Or I'll meet the mundie, and then inform the Clave as I seem to befit." Allison knew she had irked the tutor. "Why don't I sum up the situation including my inputs?" Continuing on their real work. "Clary Fray is not mundane, but a shadowhunter since she didn't turn into a Forsaken. A rare situation, a girl slipping through the gaze of the Clave. Now, we just need to make certain that she is a shadowhunter. And you need my help with it."