The Red Scrolls of Magic

by Cassandra Clare

Helen herded him into the records room, which jutted out from the side of the Institute so there were windows on all sides, and only one door. Aline followed them. She had gone entirely quiet and was being no help. Leon Verlac came too, giving Alec a little wave.

  Helen stood in front of the only exit and said, “So, Alec. First you refuse to come to Rome to answer questions, then you hightail it out of Venice from the scene of a murder and head for Rome under your own steam.”

  “Don’t forget all the property damage,” Alec said.

  Helen did not look amused, though Aline smiled a little. “What do you know about the Crimson Hand?” Helen demanded. “Where is Magnus Bane? What happened in Venice?”

  Helen was clearly about to level several more questions when Aline waved a hand in between them. “Excuse me.”

  “What!” Helen seemed to notice her for the first time. Their eyes met.

  “Hey,” said Aline.

  There was a momentary pause.

  “Hi,” said Helen.

  More silence followed.

  “Um, sorry,” said Alec. “I was too busy getting interrogated to make proper introductions. Helen Blackthorn, Aline Penhallow. Aline, this is Helen.”

  “And I’m Leon,” said Leon. Aline did not even glance at him.

  Helen kept staring at Aline. Alec wondered if his friendship with Aline would bring suspicion on her as well.

  “Right,” Helen said at last. “Anyway, back to the questions.”

  “I have a question too,” said Aline, and swallowed. “Who do you think you are, Helen Blackthorn, and why are you talking to my friend, a Shadowhunter and a recent hero of the war for Alicante, as if he’s a common criminal?”

  “Because he’s being incredibly suspicious!” Helen snapped back.

  “Alec is very honorable,” Aline said loyally. “He would never do anything suspicious.”

  “He’s traveling with Magnus Bane, who is rumored to be the head of a cult responsible for the slaughter of many faeries and mundanes,” said Helen. “Our only lead was a former cult member called Mori Shu, and Mori Shu was found dead at a party that Magnus Bane and Alec were attending. Also at that party, the whole house fell down.”

  “That does sound suspicious, when you put it like that,” Aline admitted.

  Helen nodded.

  “Nevertheless, there’s an explanation for everything,” said Aline.

  “What is it?” Helen asked.

  “Well, I don’t know,” said Aline. “But I’m sure there is one.”

  Helen and Aline were glaring at each other. Helen, who was taller than Aline, looked down her nose at her. Aline’s eyes narrowed.

  “Clearly, neither of you like me much,” said Helen. “I don’t care about that. What I care about is solving a murder and destroying a demonic cult, and for some reason, you are both standing in my way.”

  “If Alec was doing something wrong,” Leon put in, “why would he save our lives in Paris?”

  Aline darted a glance at Alec. “You saved their lives in Paris?” she said out of the corner of her mouth. Alec nodded. “Great job,” said Aline, and turned back to Helen. “Exactly. A fine point made by what’s-his-name.”

  “Leon,” said Leon.

  Aline paid no attention. She was entirely focused on Helen. “So your position is, Alec saved your life, is a war hero, but is also supporting an evil murderous cult?”

  “I don’t think he’s evil,” said Helen. “I think he’s been seduced and taken in by the evil leader of a demonic cult.”

  “Oh,” said Aline.

  Her eyes had fallen away from Helen’s at the word “seduced.”

  “Magnus has nothing to do with that cult,” Alec argued.

  “While we were in Venice, I heard that Magnus Bane founded the cult,” said Helen. “Can you explain that?”

  Alec was silent. Helen’s hard blue-green gaze softened.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I understand you trust Magnus Bane. I get it, I do. I trust Malcolm Fade and many others. I have no reason to distrust Downworlders, as you might well understand. But you have to see this looks bad.”

  “Magnus didn’t do anything,” Alec said stubbornly.

  “Really?” asked Helen. “And where is he, while you storm the Rome Institute on his behalf?”

  “He’s back at the hotel,” said Alec. “He’s waiting for me.”

  “Really?” Helen said. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Alec pulled out his phone. He called the hotel and asked to be put through to his room. He stood and waited as the phone rang, and rang, and nobody answered.

  “Maybe he’s gone out for a sandwich!” suggested Leon.

  Alec called Magnus’s cell phone, and waited again. There was still no answer. This time his stomach took a small, cold tumble. Was Magnus all right?

  “This is very awkward,” said Aline.

  Helen was looking sorry for Alec. He glared at her.

  “Look,” she said. “We have something. We know about a meeting point near Rome that the Crimson Hand used. Why don’t we go there together. And then we’ll see what we see.”

  It was clear she thought they would find Magnus there, evilly leading an evil cult.

  “Fine,” said Alec, putting his phone away. “I want to find the Crimson Hand more than you do. I have to clear Magnus of these allegations. I’ll allow you to help me with my investigation.”

  “Your investigation?” Helen repeated. “This is my investigation. And I thought you were on vacation.”

  “He can be both investigating and on vacation,” Aline said defensively. She and Helen both started talking over each other in low, intense voices, beginning their second argument in the three minutes since they’d met. Alec really hoped he hadn’t gotten Aline into trouble.

  He looked away from the argument and met Leon’s eyes. “I don’t think you have anything to do with this cult business,” Leon told him.

  “Oh,” Alec said. “Thanks, Leon.”

  “I hope Helen’s zeal won’t get in the way of you and me growing closer.”

  “Huh,” said Alec.

  Leon appeared to take this as encouragement. Alec did not see why he would. Leon came closer. Alec edged back toward Aline.

  “Helen and I have a lot in common,” Leon said.

  “Good for you.”

  “One of the things we have in common,” Leon ventured, “is that we are both interested in a variety of company. If you follow me.”

  “I don’t,” said Alec.

  Leon glanced around, then said rapidly, “I mean, we’re both bisexual. Interested in men and women.”

  “Oh,” said Alec. “I don’t know a lot about that, but again, good for you.”

  Alec knew Magnus was the same way. He had begun to learn that there was a whole world he had been entirely cut off from, words like “bisexual” and “pansexual” he’d never really known. It made him grimly sad to think now of his younger self, how desperately lonely he’d been, how he’d been sure he was the only one who’d ever had the feelings he did.

  In the dark small corners of his soul, Alec worried sometimes. Why would Magnus choose him if he could choose a girl, a woman, an easier life? He thought of how terrified he’d been once of how he would be judged.

  But then, if Magnus wanted an easier life, surely he wouldn’t have chosen a Shadowhunter at all?

  “When this is over, I could come to New York,” Leon suggested. “You could show me a good time.”

  He winked.

  “Please tell me you’re getting the implications this time,” Leon added.

  “I am,” said Alec.

  “Fantastic!” Leon told him. “We’d have to keep it quiet, but I think we could have fun. You have so much going for you, Alec. You can do better than some Downworlder with a shady past. Hey, do you have any time tonight?”

  Leon was handsome, Alec guessed. If Leon had come to New York when Alec was angry and miserable and thought nothing was ev
er going to happen for him, Alec might have taken him up on his offer.

  “No,” he said. He turned away, then looked over his shoulder. “I want to be clear,” he added. “No, I have plans for tonight that don’t include you. No, I’m not interested in fun on the quiet. And no. I can’t do better than Magnus. There isn’t better than Magnus.”

  Leon raised his eyebrows as Alec’s voice rose. Aline and Helen took notice and looked up from their quiet, intense argument.

  “Leon, are you making a pass?” demanded Helen Blackthorn. “Why do you always do this? Stop hitting on people, Leon!”

  “But life is short, and I am handsome and French,” Leon muttered.

  “Okay. We’re going to this Crimson Hand meeting place. You’re out, Aline’s in,” said Helen. “Don’t seduce anyone until we get back.” She turned to Alec. “Let’s go get some weapons and do this. Try to keep up.” She strode away, and Aline moved to walk alongside Alec, a few steps behind.

  “So, have you known Helen Blackthorn long?” she asked gruffly, and coughed. “You said she was kissing a vampire girl at that party? Didn’t you say that?”

  Alec had a vision of Helen, pale arms around the vampire girl in the moonlight. He shouldn’t have mentioned it to Aline. It was Helen’s business, and it would be his fault if Aline thought of Helen differently now.

  He hardly knew Helen, but he felt a hot rush of protectiveness. It was as if he’d heard someone whispering about him, when he was younger and even more scared.

  “I haven’t known Helen long,” he answered.

  “I guess Jace told you about that time we kissed,” Aline continued irrelevantly. “Like, why we kissed. He was helping me figure something out.”

  Alec looked at Aline sadly. Aline had always seemed very levelheaded about boys, but Jace was the exception to many rules.

  “My parabatai doesn’t kiss and tell,” he said, in a gentler tone.

  “Oh,” Aline returned, her voice flat.

  Alec had spent so long with a desperate, impossible crush on Jace. He had thought it was a secret: now he knew everyone had always known, especially Jace. Jace had never minded. He had understood Alec needed to have a crush on someone who was safe. On a boy who if Alec said, “I like you,” to him, would not have punched Alec in the face or dragged him in front of the Clave. People could be horrendously, violently awful about anyone who was different.

  That crush was a memory now. It had seemed part of his overall love for Jace once, the love that made them parabatai, but now it seemed more like the passing touch of light on metal. The gleam was gone, but the gold of friendship remained, pure and true.

  There were worse people to have a crush on than Jace Herondale. He would never be cruel to Aline about it. But he loved Clary—in a way that had stunned Alec, who had never imagined Jace in love like that—and that wasn’t going to change.

  “Be nice to Helen Blackthorn,” Alec said urgently. “You don’t have to like her, but don’t treat her differently from any other Shadowhunter.”

  Aline blinked. “I wasn’t planning on it. Of course she’s . . . a colleague. I will treat her in a professional fashion. That was my plan for how to treat her. With a calm professionalism.”

  “Good,” said Alec.

  “Do you have her phone number?” Aline asked. “In case we get separated, or something?”

  “I don’t,” said Alec.

  In the weapons room, Helen came toward them, her arms full of seraph blades, her fair hair curling around her ears. Aline made a sighing sound.

  “We were going to check out demonic activity,” said Alec to Aline, “in the records room. We never did that.”

  Aline began taking seraph blades out of Helen’s arms and stowing them on her person. “Wouldn’t you rather take action than look up records? If this is a dead end, we can always look at the records later.”

  Through the wide windows set over Rome, Alec could see the sun begin its descent. The city was still gold, but the very tops of the buildings were now crowned with red. “That makes sense,” he said. He took a couple of seraph blades for himself.

  Helen grinned an eager grin. “Let’s go hunting.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  * * *

  Aqua Morte

  MAGNUS WAS ALONE FOR TEN minutes, during which he lolled around and thought of Alec. Then there came a knock on the door.

  Magnus brightened. “Come in!”

  He was severely disappointed. It was not Alec, deciding he should stay after all. It was Shinyun.

  “I’ve been in touch with a contact,” she said without preamble. “I’m meeting her at a Downworlder bathhouse soon. . . .” She stopped and looked around with a surprised air. “Where’s Alec?”

  “He’s gone to find out whatever he can at the Rome Institute.” Magnus decided no further explanation was necessary.

  “Ah, yes. Well, if you’re bored here alone, you could always come with me to my appointment in the Roman baths,” said Shinyun. “My contact won’t talk in front of you, but if she has information and you’re nearby, we could act on it immediately. Your presence in a place like that wouldn’t be questioned. Alec’s would be.”

  Magnus considered her offer. On the one hand, he’d told Alec he would stay here. On the other, acting on information immediately might get them closer to being done with this whole sorry business. Magnus took a moment to imagine resolving the cult situation on his own, being able to go to Alec and tell him that it was all over, that Alec could relax.

  “I do love the Roman baths,” Magnus said. “Why not?”

  They walked toward the Aqua Morte bathhouse, in the historic center of Rome, along the golden waters of the Tiber. Magnus had forgotten how much more gold Rome was than any other city, like treasure brought home from a conquest.

  “Go back to where you came from,” muttered a man in Italian, glancing from Magnus’s Indonesian to Shinyun’s Korean face. He moved to shove past them, but Shinyun held up a hand. The man froze.

  “I’ve always wondered what that saying is about,” Magnus said casually. “I wasn’t born in Italy, but many people are who don’t fit your idea of what people born here look like. Is it that you think their parents weren’t from here, or their grandparents? Why do people say it? Is the idea that everyone should go back to the very first place their ancestors came from?”

  Shinyun stepped up to the man, who remained fixed in place, his eyeballs twitching.

  “Wouldn’t that mean,” Magnus asked, “that ultimately, we all have to go back to the water?”

  Shinyun flicked a finger, and the man was flung with a brief squeak into the Tiber. Magnus made sure he fell without injury and drifted him to the riverside. The man climbed out and sat down on the bank with a squelch. Magnus hoped he would think about his choices.

  “I was only going to make him think I would drop him in the water,” Magnus clarified. “I understand the impulse, but just making him afraid of us . . .” He trailed off and sighed. “Fear isn’t a very efficient motivator.”

  “Fear is all some people understand,” Shinyun said.

  They were standing close together. Magnus could feel the tension running through Shinyun’s body. He took her hand and gave it a brief, friendly squeeze before he dropped it. He felt a faint pressure of her fingers in return, as if she’d wanted to squeeze back.

  I did this to her, he thought, as he always did, the five small words that circled in his mind repeatedly when he was around Shinyun.

  “I prefer to believe that people can understand a lot, when offered the opportunity,” said Magnus. “I like your enthusiasm, but let’s not drown anyone.”

  “Spoilsport,” said Shinyun, but her tone was friendly.

  They parted ways once they reached the bathhouse, Shinyun to find her contact and Magnus to find a bath.

  The Aqua Morte was a vampire-run bathhouse, which seemed a peculiar marriage to Magnus. It was four giant heated mineral baths, each the size of an Olympic swimming pool, and s
everal smaller rooms filled with single tubs. Magnus paid for time in one of these smaller rooms and went to change.

  The vampire clan who ran this establishment were a contrary lot. They had also used the bathhouse as a controlled feeding zone for centuries, until the Nephilim put a stop to it.

  Magnus considered that so far this was not such a demanding assignment. He went into his assigned room, let the towel slide down from his waist, and stepped into the sunken tub. Steam drifted up from the near-scalding water. It was just barely tolerable, the way Magnus liked it. He sank into the tub until only his head was above water, letting his body acclimate to the burn, feeling the waves of pain and pleasure shoot up and down his body. He perched his arms over the sides and leaned back. The ancient Romans had known how to live.

  He had a few bruises and scrapes left over from the night on the train, and the night the mansion collapsed on them. By now they were faint, and ached only if he moved in a particular way. He could have healed himself anytime, but chose to let time heal the wounds. Not because he enjoyed the pain; far from it. When he had first learned to heal himself, he’d spent copious amounts of time and magic doing away with every single little hurt. Over the centuries, though, he’d learned that these minor injuries were part of life. Suffering through them made him appreciate being whole and well.

  Right now was a perfect example. Magnus could feel each individual ache and cut throb in the hot bathwater and dissipate with the steam. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

  Magnus had paid for a private room, but after a time he felt a presence hovering nearby. Before he could say anything, someone rudely invaded his tub, disturbing the flat surface and sending ripples of mineral water sloshing over the side.

  Several sharp words came to mind and he opened his eyes, ready to deliver them. Instead he was surprised to see Shinyun sitting on the edge of the tub, wrapped in a towel. She was leaning against the wall beside her, resting her face on an elbow.

  “Oh,” he said. “Hello.”

  “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

  “I do, actually, but it’s all right.”

  Magnus passed a hand over the water’s surface and a towel materialized around his waist. He didn’t think Shinyun was making a pass, and he didn’t personally have a problem with nudity, but it was an odd situation.