The Infernal Devices Reimagined

Council Meeting

Charlotte had called for an urgent meeting, yet still, the graybeards who were somehow important in the Enclave took a week to arrive in London. They pooled into the council chamber so slowly that it was a wonder that they weren't leaving alone trails wherever they went. Not that it bothered Will, of course. The council meeting would end reaching no agreement, as these things always bloody did, and afterward it would be like the meeting never occurred in the first place.

Will and Jem were still seventeen, so they weren't allowed to attend the meeting. Jem accepted that with grace. Will, not so much. He couldn't understand why they weren't allowed to attend, they were there when Mortmain took Ms. Gray, her brother, and Jessamine, but the higher-ups at the Clave had always put tradition before, well, logic. Any and all Nephilim below the age of eighteen are children, and children do not have the sufficient maturity to have any say in matters of the state, as though upon reaching the age of eighteen you were magically imparted with worldly wisdom. Will had half a mind to leap off the rafters where he hide, walk up to Consul Wayland and tell him, straight and true, that Jem had more maturity as a 'child' then he would ever in his adult shadowhunter life. How lovely it would be to see him purple and sputter on about conduct! However, the aftermath of that action would be a trifle less lovely, and Charlotte was always telling him to "think more before [he] [did] something, because [she] [was] at [her] wits end with [him]." He would have done it anyway, but Charlotte was already very bedraggled and Will did not want to add himself to her pantheon of problems. So, he stayed quiet and remained in the rafters.

At last, the steady flood of Nephilim walking into the council chamber lessened to a mere trickle, then stopped altogether. Two burly shadowhunters latched the door shut to keep away wandering mundanes. Consul Wayland ascended the stage to address the crowd of solemn Nephilim, impressive with his broad shoulders, thick neck, and long blond hair. From that crowd, Will could easily pick out Henry from his shock of red hair, and then Charlotte next to him, pale-faced. For a moment they were the only youthful bodies in a sea of crumbling old men, but then a women's ashen blonde tresses caught his eye from the far side of the room. Margaret Keeley, attending a council meeting. It shouldn't have shocked him as it did, she was a year older than him, Will knew that, but her mischievous smile and defined, puckish face did not belong in such a dull place.

The Consul was definitely talking, Will knew. Talking and talking and lording his high stature over the rest of the mere mortals that lay at his feet. A shadowhunter and important Downworlder have been abducted, he said, this was a matter of utmost urgency, but of course not so much urgency that any haste would have to be made. "Mortmain has taken Jessamine Lovelace," a member cried, "one of our own! We must save her!"

"No!" cried a dissenting voice, "Her family cast aside the gifts of the Angel to live their lives as pitiful mundanes, and she means to do the same. We must save Theresa Gray!"

"Yes!" Someone agreed, "Theresa Gray is the key to all this."

"You mean to throw away the life of a shadowhunter for that of a Downworlder?!" Called a scandalized voice, "Blasphemy! We must care for our own." A hundred voices cried out in agreement, and a hundred others in dissent. Soon enough, the entire council chamber was awash in the sound of argument. Will had to hand it to Mortmain. Despite how despicable he was, he did not lack for wits. There was a man who knew shadowhunters! He must have predicted that this would be the result the moment he took Jessamine. It was deftly done.

Sitting in the middle of all the chaos, Charlotte was whiter than milk. Henry put a comforting arm around her, and she allowed herself to lean into his touch. Will felt a pang of pity for her. He knew how difficult this was for her. On one hand, she'd met Ms. Gray and seen how valuable she was, and how kind and brave she was, but Charlotte had known Jessamine since she was a scared girl of fourteen. Charlotte had taken her in when no other member of the Enclave would, and raised her as she would her own daughter. For three years, she had weathered Jessamine's tantrums, comforted her when she cried and tried to guide her towards being, perhaps not a good shadowhunter, but a good person. In spite of how unloveable Jessamine had tried to make herself, Charlotte had found a place in her heart for her. If doing so made her weak, then Will cared not for what strength was.