The Red Scrolls of Magic

by Cassandra Clare

  “Let’s chat,” said Alec. “Why were you following us? Specifically, why were you following Magnus through the Shadow Market in Paris?”

  “I’m after the Crimson Hand,” Shinyun answered. “I heard Magnus Bane was their leader.”

  “I’m not.”

  “He’s not,” Alec said sharply.

  “I know,” Shinyun said. Magnus saw a tiny relaxation of tension in Alec’s shoulders. Her dark eyes returned to Magnus and held his gaze. “I’d already heard of you, of course. Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Everyone has something to say about you.”

  “That makes sense,” said Magnus. “I’m well-known for my taste in fashion and the hospitality of my parties.”

  “It’s true that everybody seems to trust you,” Shinyun continued. “It’s not like I wanted to believe you were running some cult, but recently I’ve been hearing it over and over. ‘Magnus Bane is the Crimson Hand’s founder.’ The one they call the Great Poison.”

  Magnus hesitated. “Maybe. But I don’t remember it. My memories of that time period have been—altered. I wish I did know.”

  Alec gave him a look that, though Magnus was unable to read minds, very clearly communicated the idea that he was shocked Magnus was trusting this total stranger with an important and dangerous secret.

  Magnus, on the other hand, felt oddly relieved that he’d admitted out loud that he might have founded the Crimson Hand, even to a peculiar stranger. After all, he had made the joke to Ragnor. He’d seen Tessa’s picture. He knew he was missing years of memory. Which was likelier, that those were all coincidences or that he’d actually done it?

  He wished he could travel back in time and kick himself in the head.

  “You’re missing memories? You think the Crimson Hand took them?” Shinyun said.

  “Possibly,” said Magnus. “Look, I don’t want a cult,” he added. He felt strongly he should make his position on cults well understood. “I am not out to take over the cult. I am out to shut down the cult, and try to pay back whatever fault I bear for the bad stuff they’ve done. I want the memories back, and I want to know why they’re gone, but that’s more out of personal curiosity. The important thing is, no more demonic cults that feel any kinship with Magnus Bane. Also, they have ruined a romantic vacation that was getting off, I thought, to a very good start.”

  He drained his drink. After almost getting thrown off a train, he deserved one. He deserved more than one.

  “It was getting off to a very good start,” Alec muttered, looking at Shinyun in a manner that suggested that though she’d saved his life, her presence was no longer required.

  Magnus considered saying something about how now no one was getting off at all, but decided it was not the time.

  “You can understand why I might have been suspicious—” began Shinyun.

  “You can understand why we might be more suspicious!” countered Alec.

  Shinyun glared. “Until I saw that Raum brood mother attacking you,” she said. “I know the Crimson Hand well enough to know the way they operate. The current leader must be trying to kill you, Bane. Which means that whatever happened in the past, now they consider you their enemy. I may have stopped them last night, but they will likely try again.”

  “How do you know so much about them?” said Alec. “And what do you want?”

  Shinyun lifted her glass to her lips and took a slow, careful sip. Magnus admired, not for the first time, her intuitive sense of dramatic timing.

  “My goal is the same as yours. I intend to destroy the Crimson Hand.”

  Magnus felt uncomfortable at the presumption of her declaring his goal for him. He wanted to quibble with it, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized she was right. In the end, it probably would come to that.

  “Why?” Alec asked, focusing on the more important thing. “What did the Crimson Hand do to you?”

  Shinyun looked out the window, at the pale reflected globes of lamplight against the night. “They hurt me very badly,” she said, and Magnus felt a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach. Whatever the Crimson Hand had done, if he had founded them, he was at least somewhat responsible.

  Shinyun’s hands began to tremble and she pressed them together to hide it. “The details are not important. The Crimson Hand is amassing sacrifices—human sacrifices, of course—toward raising a Greater Demon. They’ve been killing faeries. Mundanes. Even warlocks.” She looked back at Magnus, unblinking. “They think that is their path to ultimate power.”

  “A Greater Demon?” exclaimed Alec.

  The horror and loathing in his voice was entirely understandable. He had nearly been killed by a Greater Demon. It still made Magnus’s stomach twist. He finished his second drink and poured himself another.

  “So the most banal, typical thing for an evil cult to want. Power. Power through some demon. Why do they always think they’ll be spared? Demons aren’t known for their sense of fair play.” Magnus sighed. “Wouldn’t you think a cult I founded might have a more creative spirit? Also, I would have assumed a cult I founded wouldn’t be evil; that part remains a surprise to me.”

  “People I loved are dead because of the Crimson Hand,” Shinyun went on.

  “Maybe the details do matter,” said Alec.

  Shinyun gripped her glass so tightly that her knuckles went white. “I still would prefer not to speak of it.”

  Alec looked dubious.

  “If you want me to trust you, you’ll have to trust me,” said Shinyun plainly. “For now, all you need know is that I wish for revenge against the Crimson Hand for the crimes they have committed against me and against my loved ones. That is all. If you’re against them, we’re on the same side.”

  “Everyone has their secrets, Alec,” said Magnus softly, feeling awash in his own. “If the Crimson Hand is trying to kill me for some reason, we can use all the help we can get.”

  Magnus could be forgiving of Shinyun choosing not to disclose her past. After all, apparently he couldn’t even remember his own. He wanted to believe that talking about things made them better, but in his experience, sometimes talking made everything worse.

  A silence fell between them. Shinyun sipped her drink and remained silent herself. Magnus was terrified, and not for his own life. He kept thinking about the moment Alec had collapsed on the roof of the train, when he had believed with cold horror that Alec was dying for him. He was afraid for Alec, and afraid of what he himself might have done that he could not now remember.

  He couldn’t tell what Alec was thinking, but as he watched, Alec smiled, just a little, and reached out across the bar. His strong, scarred fingers curled around Magnus’s, their hands joined in the tiny pool of light cast by the candle.

  Magnus wanted to grab Alec and kiss him breathless, but he suspected Shinyun would not appreciate the show.

  “You’re right,” Alec said. “I guess the enemy of my enemy is my friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance. Better if we team up.” He lowered his voice. “But she’s not sleeping in our hotel rooms.”

  “All reconciled?” asked Shinyun. “Because, sorry to be rude, but this is incredibly awkward to sit through. I’m not here to witness your relationship growth. I just want to defeat the evil cult.”

  Magnus had made up his mind. Whatever else was going on—whether he owed Shinyun for saving their lives, or for how the Crimson Hand had harmed her—she knew a great deal. It would be foolishness not to keep her close by.

  “Let’s all enjoy our refreshments and assume for now that we’re all on the same side. Can you tell us about your more recent past, at least?”

  Shinyun considered for a moment and then seemed to come to some decision within herself.

  “I’ve been hunting the Crimson Hand for some time. I received updates from an informant in their ranks called Mori Shu. I was closing in on them, and then they found another spy in their ranks, abandoned their mansion, and went into hiding. I ran out of leads, but then I heard from a re
liable source that the Spiral Labyrinth had given you a chance to go after the cult.”

  “If she learned that, maybe someone else did,” Alec said. “Maybe that’s why the Hand wants you dead, Magnus.”

  “Maybe,” Magnus said. It was a solid theory, but there was still too much he didn’t remember. He had the sinking feeling there was plenty he could have done to turn the Hand against him.

  Shinyun didn’t seem interested. “I tracked you around Paris, watching your movements, and I decided to approach you at the Shadow Market when the Shadowhunter attacked me.”

  “I was protecting Magnus,” Alec said.

  “I understand that,” said Shinyun. “You fight well.”

  There was a tiny pause.

  “So do you,” Alec said.

  The leader of the Crimson Hand, whoever he might be, knew they were coming. Magnus wanted to be safe. He wanted Alec to be safe. He wanted this to be over.

  “Let’s get another bottle,” he said, gesturing with one hand toward the bartender, “and toast to our new partnership.”

  The fresh bottle arrived at the table, and their glasses refilled. Magnus raised his in a toast. “Well,” he said with a small smile, “on to Venice.” They toasted and drank. Magnus thought of more pleasant things than demonic cults. He considered the city of liquid glass and moving waters, the city of canals and dreamers. He watched Alec, whole and well, his blue eyes clear and his voice an anchor in a wild sea.

  Magnus realized he’d been wrong to think Paris was the city to get their relationship off to a good start. Even before the demon-worshipping cult, Alec hadn’t been that impressed with the Eiffel Tower or the hot-air balloon, not the way Magnus wanted him to be. Paris was a city of love, but it could also be a city of surfaces, of bright lights that slid away and were quickly lost. Magnus did not want to lose this one. He would set a better scene. He would get things right this time.

  Venice was the place for Alec. Venice had depth.

  PART II

  City of Masks

  . . . Venice once was dear,

  The pleasant place of all festivity,

  The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

  —Lord Byron

  CHAPTER TEN

  * * *

  Labyrinth of Water

  MAGNUS THREW THE CURTAINS OPEN and stepped onto the balcony of the hotel room. “Ah, Venice. There is no city in the world like you.”

  Alec trailed him outside and leaned over the railing. His gaze followed a gondola snaking along the canal and disappearing around a corner.

  “It’s a bit smelly.”

  “That’s the ambiance.”

  Alec grinned. “Well, the ambiance is pretty strong.”

  The only good thing about the previous night’s demon attack was that between the dozen or so glamour spells in place on the part of all the participants and a number of the bystanders, the mundanes responsible for the actual running of the train hadn’t noticed the enormous ruckus or the giant hole in one of their passenger cars. They pulled into Venice at ten in the morning, almost on time.

  One water taxi ride later, they had arrived at the Belmond Hotel Cipriani, just a few blocks from the Crimson Hand’s former headquarters.

  Magnus wandered back into their suite and pointed at his suitcases. They each split open and began to unload themselves. Blazers and coats flew into the waiting closet, undergarments folded themselves into the drawers, shoes walked into a neat row by the door, and valuables locked themselves into the safe.

  He spun back to Alec, who was watching the movement of the sun through the cloudless sky with a slight frown.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” said Magnus. “Breakfast.”

  “We don’t have time,” said Shinyun, barging into their suite without knocking. “We should go search the abandoned headquarters at once.”

  She, of course, had already changed into a kind of Italian-cut power suit that shone iridescent with enchantments and protections.

  Magnus gave her a disapproving look. “We have not worked together very long, Shinyun Jung, but one thing you should learn about me quickly is that I am very serious about my meals.”

  Shinyun looked at Alec, who nodded.

  “I may, at any moment, organize an entire step in our mission around visiting a particular restaurant or bar. If I do so, it will be worth your while.”

  “If it’s so important—” Shinyun began.

  “We will be eating three meals a day. Breakfast will be one of those meals. In fact, breakfast will be the most important of those meals, because breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

  Shinyun looked at Alec, who said in a deadpan voice, “Many a mission to end a great evil has failed because of low blood sugar.”

  “You do listen when I talk!” exclaimed Magnus. Alec gave Shinyun an apologetic smile that she did not return.

  “Fine,” said Shinyun. “So where does your agenda begin today?”

  Magnus’s agenda, luckily, began downstairs at the hotel’s own Oro Restaurant. They sat alfresco on the deck, watching a small parade of boats float by along the lagoon. Alec wolfed down two crepes and considered ordering a third. Magnus enjoyed an espresso, the menu’s most complicated-sounding egg dish, and the gleaming turquoise canal.

  “I was thinking that you might enjoy Venice more than Paris,” he told Alec.

  “I liked Paris,” said Alec. “This is nice too.” He braced himself with a visible effort, turned to Shinyun, and tried to make conversation. “This is my first time traveling for fun. I’ve always stayed close to home before. Where’s home for you?”

  Magnus had to turn his face away to watch the boats for a moment. Sometimes the tenderness he felt for Alec actually hurt.

  Shinyun hesitated. “Korea was home, when I had a home. The Korea of the Joseon Dynasty.”

  There was a pause. “Was it a hard place to be a warlock?”

  Shinyun looked at Magnus and said, “Every place is a hard place to be a warlock child.”

  “That’s true,” Magnus said.

  “Originally I am from a small village near Mount Kuwol. My warlock marks manifested late. I was fourteen and betrothed to Yoosung, a handsome boy from a good family in my village. When my face froze over, everyone believed I had turned into a Hannya demon or had been possessed by a gwisin. My betrothed said he did not care.” Her voice trembled, very slightly. “He would still have married me, but he was killed by a demon. I’ve devoted my life to hunting demons in his honor. I’ve made a detailed study of demons over centuries. I know their ways. I know their names. And I have never, and will never, summon a demon.”

  Magnus sat back and took a sip of coffee. “Alec, remember last night, when our new acquaintance told us that she couldn’t tell us anything about her past?”

  Shinyun laughed. “That’s ancient history. I had many years between then and now to have a past in, after all of that was behind me.”

  “Well,” said Magnus, “I understand why you’ve made your choice, but for the record, I summon demons all the time. Well, not literally all the time. But when I’m paid to do so, within the bounds of my code of ethics, obviously.”

  Shinyun thought this over. “But you don’t . . . like demons. You don’t mind killing them.”

  “They’re violent, mindless despoilers of our world, so, no,” said Magnus. “I don’t mind killing them. My boyfriend is a Shadowhunter, for heaven’s sake. Literally, for heaven’s sake.”

  “I’d noticed,” said Shinyun dryly.

  There was a brief, awkward silence, broken by Shinyun gesturing into the air a miniature floating image of the octopus monster they’d fought the night before.

  “I’m going to have another espresso,” said Magnus, gesturing to the waiter with his empty cup.

  “This Raum brood mother, for example. It has no bones and can regrow its flesh. You can cut it or pierce it as much as you like, but it will regenerate its organs and limbs too quickly to end it that way. You
must instead tear it apart from the inside. That is why I used a sonic spell.”

  “You’ve fought them before?” said Alec.

  “I hunted one in the Himalayas a hundred years ago, when it terrorized a local village.”

  The discussion veered into demon hunting, which was deeply boring to Magnus, but intensely exciting to Alec. So he sat back, sipped his espresso, and watched as the minutes passed, until there was a pause in the conversation and he cleared his throat and said quietly, “If we’re all done with breakfast, we could go check out that Crimson Hand headquarters we’ve all heard so much about.”

  Shinyun had the grace to look a little embarrassed as they went back from the restaurant to the lobby. Magnus arranged for the hotel to call a water taxi for them. By the time it arrived to pick them up, Shinyun and Alec were back to swapping demon murder tips.

  The secret of Venice is that its streets are an unknowable maze, but its canals make a strange kind of sense. Rather than navigating the alleys of a city with no posted street signs of any kind, their water taxi was able to let them off within sight of the palazzo that was their destination.

  That palazzo’s golden walls were festooned with white marble pillars and arches, decorated in scarlet stucco. The windows of what was referred to elsewhere as the ground floor, and in Venice was called the “water floor,” were unusually large, risking flooding for beauty. The glass reflected the canal waters, turning moody turquoise into shining jade.

  Magnus could not imagine setting up a cult, but if he were going to, he could easily envision himself choosing this building for it.

  “It’s your kind of place,” said Alec.

  “It’s amazing,” said Magnus.

  “What I mostly notice about it, though,” said Alec, “is all the people going in and out of it. Didn’t your friend Tessa say it was abandoned?”

  Venice was always crowded with people, turning the streets into as much living motion as the canals, but Alec was right. There was a steady stream of people passing through the double front doors of the palazzo.