The Red Scrolls of Magic

by Cassandra Clare

  Dread rose in Alec, a shadow of the same cold fear he had felt when he saw Magnus in the arena, at the prospect that Magnus might throw his life away before Alec could get to him.

  “And?” Alec asked warily.

  “And the Clave will not have the same reaction to me. I was the one in the pentagram tonight, and I was the focus of this little soiree. I am the one the Shadowhunters will be questioning. I don’t want any of you to get into any trouble because you came for me. I think you should all use the glory of a big mission, successfully accomplished, to cover any awkwardness this situation might create for you. You stumbled upon this mysterious scenario. You don’t know anything more. Tell them to ask me.”

  Alec exchanged a look with Aline, then another with Helen.

  “We stopped the Crimson Hand,” Alec said. “That’s what’s important, right?”

  Aline nodded. “An evil cult tried to summon Asmodeus. The three of us tracked them down and put an end to their ritual before they could summon him.”

  “We also shut down their headquarters,” added Helen. “And we saved the man they were planning to sacrifice in their ritual. That’s the truth. That’s all that needs to be in the report.”

  “That’s not lying to the Clave,” Aline said hastily. “Which I would never do, because Mom would strip my Marks and worse, tell me how disappointed she was in me. Really, we are just trying to clarify the issue to the Clave, and not bother them with irrelevant details. You don’t have anything to do with the Crimson Hand, Magnus, other than being their victim. Who cares about ancient history?”

  “I’ll explain that I should have come to the Paris Institute when a warlock approached me for help, instead of trying to do this all on my own,” Helen continued.

  “If my name isn’t getting dragged through the mud,” said Magnus, “certainly yours shouldn’t be. You had a lead, and you followed the lead with praiseworthy dedication. Who cares why a warlock approached you, whether it was because of your faerie heritage or any other reason? As the result shows, he chose well.”

  “He could not have made a better choice,” said Aline. “You brought down the Crimson Hand. You did everything you could. No other Shadowhunter could have done better.”

  Helen looked at Aline. Faint pink stole into her cheeks. Alec was startled to see a feeling he recognized on Helen’s face, something he often felt around Magnus: uncertain delight at Magnus’s high opinion of him, twined with the creeping doubt that Magnus would realize he did not deserve it.

  Alec suspected he had missed some crucial details about his companions while he was worrying about Magnus.

  “The problem, of course,” said Magnus, “is that with Shinyun gone, the Clave will be looking for someone to pin the leadership of the Crimson Hand on.”

  Alec felt a lurch of panic. “Not you,” he said. “It can’t be you.”

  Magnus gave him a look of surprising sweetness. “Not me, love,” he said. “We’ll think of something.”

  He fell silent as a group of Italian Shadowhunters who were scouting the grounds approached. Helen exchanged a few words with their leader as the rest of the Shadowhunters rushed past.

  The four began making their way back to the villa’s entrance. Alec caught Helen’s eye.

  “I’m sorry if I almost messed anything up.”

  “What did I say to you, Alec Lightwood?” said Helen. “Disasters follow wherever you go. Buildings collapse. Fugitives escape. I’m getting used to it.” She stole a glance at Aline, who blushed fiery red. “I think I’m getting to like it.”

  Aline cleared her throat. “I know this place. It’s nothing special. Just a little café on the Tiber. Maybe we can hang out there sometime. I mean, whenever you have time. If you like.” She glanced around. “That invitation was for Helen, by the way. Not you and Magnus.”

  “I get it,” said Alec, who finally did.

  “I’m on my travel year,” Helen said slowly. “I’m supposed to be at the Prague Institute next week.”

  “Oh.” Aline sounded crushed.

  Helen seemed to be working something out in her head. “But after this big mission, I could use a rest. I can probably arrange to stick around the Rome Institute for a while longer.”

  “Really?” Aline whispered.

  Helen stopped and looked at her squarely. Alec and Magnus tried to pretend they were somewhere else. “If you mean it like I think you mean it,” said Helen. “If you mean a real date. With me.”

  “Yes,” said Aline, clearly abandoning any idea of playing it cool. “Yes, yes, yes, a real date. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Helen Blackthorn. And you fight like poetry. When you talked about your family, you made me want to cry. So let’s get coffee, or dinner, or we could go on a weekend trip to Florence. Wait, no, or I could say something more suave and sophisticated than that. I’ll read some romantic books and learn to phrase things better. I’m so sorry.”

  She looked mortified.

  “Why are you sorry?” Helen asked. “I liked that.”

  “Yeah?” asked Aline. “Do you want to get breakfast?”

  “Well, no,” said Helen.

  Aline looked dismayed. “I messed it up. When did I mess it up?”

  “I just meant,” Helen said hastily, “let’s get lunch instead. That way, we can get back to the Institute first and clean up. I have ichor between my fingers.”

  “Oh.” Aline paused. “All right. Fantastic! I mean, okay.”

  She began to outline elaborate plans for lunch. Alec did not know how she was going to pull together a jazz combo in three hours, but he was happy that she looked so happy—her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Helen must have thought she looked more than just happy, because when Aline paused for breath, Helen leaned over and kissed her.

  It was a quick brush of lips against lips, a gentle kiss. Aline smiled into it, then cupped Helen’s elbow and drew her in close. The sunlight just beginning to glow at the horizon caught the Penhallow ring on Aline’s finger and made it shine as she brushed Helen’s hair away from her face, kissing her over and over.

  Alec said, in a low voice, “I hope this works out for them.”

  Magnus said, “I thought they were already together. Cute couple. Ladies, I hate to interrupt, but Leon Verlac is headed this way.”

  Helen and Aline broke apart, both smiling. There was an unusually surly expression on Leon’s normally bright face as he hove into view. He was shoving Bernard ahead of him.

  Bernard’s hands were tied, and he was protesting furiously. “You can’t do this to me! This is all Magnus Bane’s fault!”

  “Like we’re going to believe a word you say,” Leon sneered.

  “I am the leader of the Crimson Hand, its dark and charismatic overlord, the power behind the throne but also the one meant to be sitting in the throne. I refuse to be treated like a common criminal!”

  Leon Verlac glanced over his shoulder at Helen and Aline, and then at Alec and Magnus. Alec stared back at him blankly.

  “Yeah, well,” said Leon, and gave the dark and charismatic overlord of the Crimson Hand another push. “We’re all having a tough day.”

  Aline gave Magnus and Alec a grin of slow-blossoming delight. “I guess that’s the ‘leader of the Crimson Hand’ issue sorted.”

  “Who’d ever have thought I’d be glad to see Leon?” Helen wondered.

  “I think we should make a pact,” said Alec. “We all four keep what we know about the Crimson Hand a secret. In fact, I’d prefer if we didn’t mention any of this to anyone in New York. Not ever.”

  “Wise,” Aline remarked. She was still pink about the cheeks, her hand in Helen’s. “If Jace and Isabelle find out we had all this fun without them, they’ll kill us.”

  Helen nodded. “The four of us never met here. This never happened. Look forward to meeting you sometime, Alec. For the first time.”

  If Alec’s dad heard anything about the cult and Magnus’s past, he would make the same assum
ptions Helen had, only worse. Alec didn’t want that to happen. He still believed that if his dad got to know Magnus, he would end up seeing what Helen and Shinyun had learned to see, what Alec had seen almost from the very first.

  Of course, his dad might be pleased to hear that Alec had been a big help on a mission in Rome. The leader of the Crimson Hand had been captured, and they had put an end to the cult and the terrible ritual. It really was possible that the Rome Institute was going to commend all three of them on a job well done.

  But compared to Magnus, the approval of his father—of anyone in the Clave—didn’t matter at all. Alec knew who he was. He knew what he had done and what he had fought for, and he knew what he would fight for in the future.

  And he knew exactly who he loved.

  The dust was settling, and the rays of the sun were growing ever stronger, brilliant white lines of light that washed the new day clean. The makeshift amphitheater, the stone seats of the audience, and the villa that had been the Crimson Hand’s last stronghold were all in ruins under what looked like it would be a clear autumn day.

  Alec surprised himself by laughing out loud.

  He held out his hand and found Magnus’s waiting for him.

  EPILOGUE

  City I Call Home

  New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. . . .

  Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.

  —Ezra Pound

  “SO THAT’S THE WHOLE STORY of our hunt for the Crimson Hand,” said Magnus, making a dramatic gesture with his teacup. Liquid sloshed over the rim of the cup and splashed through the illusion of Tessa.

  Tessa’s solemn gray eyes lit with her smile. She always had an appearance of gravity, and yet she smiled often. Magnus grinned back. He had snatched a moment before he and Alec were due to go, while the Shadowhunters were still busying themselves with official reports about the business with the Crimson Hand.

  Magnus had his own report to give, and it was good to see Tessa’s face, even if it was only a Projection.

  “That’s quite a story,” Tessa observed.

  “Will you be telling the Spiral Labyrinth?” asked Magnus.

  “I will tell the Spiral Labyrinth something,” said Tessa. “Something not even remotely resembling the story you just told me. But you know, a lot of narratives depend on interpretation.”

  “You’re the audience,” said Magnus. “I’ll leave it to you.”

  “Are you happy?” asked Tessa.

  “Yes, I am happy to no longer be falsely accused of leading a cult bent on global destruction,” said Magnus. “I am also happy that a lunatic warlock is not sending demons to chase me across Europe. It’s all very gratifying.”

  “I’m sure,” said Tessa gently, “but are you happy?”

  Magnus had known her a long time. He let his defenses drop a little, enough to answer with a simple, “Yes.”

  Tessa smiled, without an ounce of hesitation or grudging. “I’m glad.”

  Magnus was the one who hesitated. “Can I ask you something? You loved a Shadowhunter.”

  “Do you think I stopped?”

  “When you loved a Shadowhunter, were you ever afraid?”

  “I was always afraid,” said Tessa. “It’s natural to be afraid of losing the most precious thing in the world. But don’t be too afraid, Magnus. I know warlocks and Shadowhunters are very different, and there is a divide between your worlds that can be hard to cross. But as someone once said to me, the right man will not care. You can build a bridge over the divide and find each other. You can build something much greater than either of you could ever have built on your own.”

  There was a silence after she spoke, as they both thought of the ages they had seen pass already, and the ages to come. The sunlight was still bright through the window outside Magnus’s Rome hotel room, but it would not last.

  Magnus said reluctantly, “But we do lose love, in the end. We both know that.”

  “No,” said Tessa. “Love changes you. Love changes the world. You cannot lose that love, no matter how long you live, I think. Trust love. Trust him.”

  Magnus wanted to, but he could not forget Asmodeus telling him he was a curse upon the world. He remembered begging Shinyun with his eyes not to tell Alec who Magnus’s father was. He did not want to lie to Tessa. He did not know how to promise he would do what she advised.

  “What if I lost him by telling the truth?”

  “What if you lost him by hiding it?”

  Magnus shook his head. “Take care, Tessa,” he told her, instead of telling her he would follow her advice.

  Tessa did not push him. “And you, my friend. I wish you both the very best.”

  The illusion of Tessa faded, her soft mass of brown hair dissipating like a cloud in the air. After a moment, Magnus got up and went to get changed, to meet Alec at the Rome Institute and at long last continue their vacation.

  A PORTAL OPENED AND SPLIT the air at the bottom of the front steps of the Institute. Magnus stood at the top of those steps. He had already hugged everyone, including two Italian Shadowhunters who’d seemed very startled to be hugged and had to introduce themselves while in his embrace, but enthusiastically hugged him back. Their names were Manuela and Rossella. Magnus thought they seemed nice.

  Alec did not hug anyone except for Aline, but his arms went around her tight. Magnus looked at the back of Alec’s head, bent toward Aline’s, and exchanged a glance and a grin with Helen.

  “I hope the next stop on your holiday is fabulous,” said Helen.

  “It will be. I hope the next place you hit on your travel year is great.”

  “The thing is,” said Helen, “I’m feeling a little tired of traveling. I’m happy where I am.”

  Aline strode over to Helen’s side.

  “Traveling?” she repeated. “I was thinking, if you wanted company when you go to the Prague Institute, I could come along. I’m not doing anything, except fighting the forces of evil. But we could do that together.”

  Helen smiled. “I think we can work something out.”

  Alec dodged Leon Verlac’s attempt at a hug and left Leon giving a double-cheek kiss to the air. He came to rejoin Magnus at the top of the stairs.

  “Are you ready to get back to our vacation?” asked Magnus, holding out a hand.

  “I cannot wait,” said Alec, taking it.

  Together, with their luggage following close behind, the two stepped into the Portal. They left the Rome Institute behind and came out into the living room of Magnus’s Brooklyn loft.

  Magnus lifted a hand, pivoting slowly. All the curtains swung apart, all the windows snapped open. Sunlight flooded across the floorboards and the colorful rugs knotted with scarlet and yellow and blue, gleaming on calfskin-and-gilt spell books and the new coffeemaker Magnus had bought because Alec disapproved of him stealing coffee by summoning it from local bodegas.

  Chairman Meow approached Magnus with tilted-head furrowed hesitation before slinking in between his legs in a few figure eights. The cat then leaped onto Magnus’s body like a mountain climber, bounding into his hands and scaling up his arm to perch on his shoulder. He purred near Magnus’s ear, licked his cheek with his sandpaper tongue, and jumped off without even a look back, having completed his necessary greeting.

  “I love you, too, Chairman Meow,” Magnus called after him.

  Alec reached for the sky with his hands and stretched, swaying his body side to side before collapsing into the love seat. He kicked off his shoes and sank into the cushions. “It is so good to be back in New York. Home. I need a vacation from that vacation.”

  He reached out a hand to Magnus, and Magnus crawled onto the love seat beside him, and felt Alec’s fingers thread through his hair.

  “No must-see tourist destinations. No elaborate dinner dates requiring flying machines, and definitely no cults and murderous warlocks,” he whispered in Alec’s ear. “Just home.”

  “It’s good t
o be back,” said Alec. “I missed the view from this window.”

  “Yes,” said Magnus wonderingly. There had been so many windows, and so many cities. He had never thought to miss a view before.

  “And I missed Izzy.”

  Magnus thought of Alec’s fierce sister, whom Alec protected before his own life. “Yes.”

  “And Jace.”

  “Eh,” said Magnus.

  He smiled against Alec’s cheek, knowing Alec could feel his smile even if he could not see it. He had never missed a view before, but it was nice to miss this one. It was strange, to look out on brownstones and blue sky, the swoop of the Brooklyn Bridge and the glittering towers of Manhattan, and think of returning, think of a place filled with family and friends.

  “I don’t think anyone expects us back yet,” said Alec.

  “We don’t have to explain to them why we’re home early,” said Magnus. “I never explain. Takes less time and adds to my air of mystique.”

  “No, I meant . . .” Alec swallowed. “I miss them, but I could stand to have a little more time alone with you. We don’t have to tell them we’re back at all.”

  Magnus brightened. “I can always Portal us back on vacation, if we feel like it. We can still make the opera, like you wanted. In a while.”

  “I can say my phone broke,” said Alec. “I can say I dropped it in the Tiber.”

  Magnus grinned mischievously. “I have a better idea.”

  He jumped off the sofa and strolled to the back of his loft. He cast a spell and made two wide sweeping gestures with his arms to push all the furniture to the side.

  He spun to face Alec, suddenly wearing a very bright and very green pair of lederhosen. “I believe the next stop on our trip was supposed to be Berlin.”

  For the next hour, they made up for weeks’ worth of trips, posing in front of backgrounds conjured up by Magnus on the wall of the loft. The first was of them dancing at a disco in Berlin. They moved the party next to the front of the Prado Museum in Spain. Alec gave some crackers to a small group of pigeons that Magnus had summoned in from the roof.