We went in and looked around. After all the business with the code word and the key, it’s just a normal pub inside. There was nothing to see, or if there was, we didn’t see it. Nothing to do with a silver band, or Chiswick House, or the Blackthorns and Lightwoods who lived there. Eventually the barman asked if we wanted anything, and we left. They obviously recognized us as Shadowhunters and were not super pleased to have us there. The place could be any ancient London pub: very old, dark wood, stained glass, and an overwhelming crowd of drunk Downworlders. We had, it seems, interrupted a retirement party for one of their regulars, a kelpie. I know what you’re going to ask, and yes, the kelpie was in a big tub of water. His name was Pickles—I know!—and he kept yelling about how he was “starting a new life under the sea.” So of course they thought we were basically the cops come to bust up their party and didn’t want us there. But I don’t know what we could have done even if we stayed. We’d been hoping we’d see the place and it would spark some idea about why the ghost sent us there. But no dice.
So I thought, since you and Tessa were both around in the earlier better days of Blackthorn Hall, once Chiswick House—does the Devil Tavern ring any bells for you? Can you think of any connection between this random Downworlder pub and the people who lived at Chiswick? If not, we’ll find another lead, but I thought I would atleast ask. If you have any thoughts about the identity of our ghost, based on the Devil Tavern thing or anything else I’ve said, please get in touch and let us know. Cleaning out the house definitely includes cleaning out the ghosts, but also, you know, it feels like the right thing to do to help him out if we can.
My love to Tessa and Kit and Mina, and love from us here!
Emma
TESSA
Dear Maryse,
As one mother to another, I’m writing to you for advice. It’s been many years since I was raising children, and when I say “many years,” I mean more than a century. Now I find myself in that position again. Although we have not talked frequently, I have often thought what a wonderful mother you must have been and continue to be. After all, your children have turned out so wonderfully. Isabelle is so brave, Alec such a leader, and Jace, well, I can only tell you that I know what an excellent example of a Herondale is, and he is one.
I also know you have experienced profound loss and grief, and that you understand it.
I am writing to you about Kit. He, too, is a Herondale, and I believe he will be an excellent example of one as well. But, like all Herondale men, (and the girls, too— believe me, I know!) he is very private, even secretive.On the whole, Jem and I wish nothing but to respect his boundaries. But when does worry require one, as a parent, to intervene?
A few nights ago after dinner, I stopped by Kit’s room to give him his phone (he is forever leaving it somewhere), and I found he was not there. Glancing out the window, I could see him outside, standing in our front garden. He had his back to me and appeared to be staring off into the distance, but I could tell by his posture and the movements of his shoulders that he was agitated. Concerned, I followed him outside. I came up behind him quietly, not wanting to startle him. Perhaps I came too quietly. I realized immediately he was talking to a ghost—I’ve had experiences of such things before. As is always the case in this kind of situation, I could hear only his side of the conversation.
Kit said, “If you keep trying to talk to me about this, I’m not going to be able to see you anymore.” Then he said, “Of course I believe in forgiveness. But some things are so terrible you never want to revisit them.” There was a long pause. I thought maybe it was over. But he spoke again. “Don’t you understand? Every time you bring him up, it tears another piece out of my heart.” He turned around, and of course he saw me, standing on the path outside the house. He didn’t say anything, only gave me a sort of betrayed look, and ran inside.
The next day he pretended nothing had happened. I’ve always assumed there are ghosts at Cirenworth—Kit informed me there is a ghost dog he plays with sometimes,a retriever I think—but I can’t imagine any of them as malicious or hurtful. And indeed it didn’t sound as though he were afraid of the ghost, but rather that the ghost brought back dark memories of his past. Perhaps of his father? I don’t know what to do. Jem thinks we should let him work it out on his own, as he is a teenager, but then I remember my first two children, when they were teenagers, how there were times when they did need my help. (I am very much hoping that Kit is not having a tempestuous affair with a ghost. Certainly I don’t want to go through that again.)
It’s keeping me up nights worrying. If there’s any advice you have, I’d love to hear it.
***
I’m enclosing a picture of Jace and Clary with Kit and Mina, last time they visited. They look so happy!
All best,
Tessa
JEM
Dearest Emma,
Thank you for writing to keep me apprised of the situation at Blackthorn Hall and this haunting in particular. It means a great deal to me that you’re willing to share what’s going on. I’m glad we’ve moved beyond the days when you felt you had to conceal your wilder schemes from the older generation, myself included. I hope you know you need keep no secrets from me, no matter how outlandish those schemes are. Secrets have caused you and Julian so much heartbreak in the past, and I want you to know that you can tell me anything and I will not judge you.
So you say you are helping a ghost? That could be a noble pursuit, and a compassionate one, but I must urge you to be cautious. Blackthorn Hall has a history that, at times, involved unsavory characters and sinister magic, and if a spirit truly is haunting the manor, it may not be benevolent. The fact that Magnus sensed no ill will easesmy mind a great deal, but still, I would advise that you be on your guard, and careful about what this ghost asks of you in seeking its freedom. It may not mean you any overt harm, but that does not mean no harm will come to you.
As for the Devil Tavern, I do indeed know it. It has been a Downworlder haunt for many centuries, and for some time, at the early part of the last century, it was something of a refuge for people Tessa and I cared about very much. I do not want to tell you too much about them—it is painful to cast our thoughts back to that time, for it is a reminder of so much that has been lost, and of those we could not save. But I also think it may not help you— it seems to me best that you go into this search without preconceptions or expectations of what you may find.
Why do I feel this? I can only say that, during my many years of being a Silent Brother, I felt a great kinship for shades: for the dead and those who haunted, and for the memories tethering them to earth. I, too, was tethered by memories in those times. They were what kept me human and able to return to this life I have now, that I love so much.
So I will not tell you of names, or personalities. They may not be relevant to your search at all, but you must go forward to find out. And that is why I will tell you this— you saw only a little of the Devil Tavern. There are a set of rather blackened stairs behind the bar, and up those stairs there is a secret room, one that was closed off decades ago.It is possible whatever your ghost is looking for may be in there. If you wish to gain entry to the hidden room— and a warmer reception at the Devil in general—show the bartender your family rings. Say the names: Blackthorn. Carstairs. They will matter.
I would appreciate very much if you would keep me apprised of what you discover and the next steps in your adventure. I wish to know the answers you find, in spite of the part of me that fears what you might find in that room, and what it may say about the fates of those I loved in the past. I hope my fears are unwarranted. I hope this tale will have a happy ending. I do know this much—this ghost is lucky to have determined souls such as yourself and Julian helping it to find rest.
Church has informed me it is, in fact, time for dinner, and naturally I must attend to his every whim. In addition to my hopes about your quest, I also hope you and Julian are having a good time settling in at Blackthorn Hall despite the restive ghost and the many years of neglect the place has suffered. You are correct that it does not surprise me to hear a ghost is in residence there. The past haunts that place, a story of things done and things left undone. It is possible that, by bringing love and warmth into that place, you will close the chapter of neglect and open a new one of infinite possibility.
I believe in you, Emma. When I see you, I see Carstairs past; I see bravery, and the flame of Cortana. Remember that you are of the steel and temper of those who havegone before you. The final hope I will express in this letter: that I will see you again soon, and when I do, I will have the strength to tell you of some of them, of a girl with fire-bright hair, and her brother, and those who came before and after them.
Love,
Jem
EMMA
