Reading Time: 141 Minutes

Title: Memento Sperare
Author: Twigen
Fandom: Shadowhunters
Genre: Established Relationship, Paranormal/Supernatural, Romance, Slash, Urban Fantasy
Relationship(s): Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Major Character Death, Torture, Violence – Graphic , Temporary Major Character Death, Canon-level violence, Canon-level torture
Beta: Alpha readers: Malucy, Lily25, and Imali Fegen
Word Count: 70,557
Summary: Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane met months before Clary Fray ever even heard of the Shadow World. When the Circle and Valentine Morgenstern suddenly appear back on the scene, Magnus and Alec’s relationship has major implications for the way events play out: a missed collision; captured rogue Shadowhunters; and a mother gets to tell her daughter the secrets she’s kept hidden for eighteen years.

There are still challenges; Valentine is creating havoc between Shadowhunters and Downworlders, the Clave has its own agenda, and a new choice might give them the boon they need to deal with it all.
Artist: Halestrom

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Chapter 11

“Clary…” Jocelyn said, slowing to a halt. “Isn’t that Simon’s van?” She pointed off into the darkness towards the parking lot. A mostly-yellow van was sitting in one of the spots, leaves gathered on the front window. The sides were clearly marked in a familiar hand.

Gasping, Clary abandoned the bags she was holding as she saw what her mother was pointing at. She darted towards the van, looking wildly for any sign of her friend. “It’s Simon’s van,” she confirmed, running to pound on the windows as she peered inside.

“He’s not here,” Clary said needlessly.

Jocelyn had reached the van by that point and tried the driver’s door. It was locked. Clary grabbed the handle of the back passenger sliding door and tugged.

It opened without trouble. She looked at her mother with wide, frightened eyes. “He never leaves this thing unlocked,” she murmured before sticking her head inside.

Jocelyn came around next to her and looked in, as well. “Clary…” she started.

Clary felt her mom’s hand grip her shoulder, tugging her back gently. She looked at her mother, still feeling the anger and betrayal of all the secrets that had recently come to the surface. First, her heritage; then, finding out she had a brother that she’d never heard about before. And now her mother was trying to pull her away from looking for her best friend?

Wrenching away from her mom, Clary took a step back and crossed her arms. “What?”

Jocelyn pulled out her cell phone and held it up to her ear. “Luke,” she said and continued without any further preamble. “I need you to come to the Institute. We found Simon’s van in the parking lot. There are signs of a struggle in the back.”

Clary gasped and darted forward, only stopping when her mom reached out to hold her back.

“Don’t touch anything, Clary. Simon’s been taken, and we need to get as many clues as possible. Go inside and get Alec or Jace,” Jocelyn ordered. “We don’t know if humans took him or something else.”

Part of her recognized that she was being managed, but Clary was grateful for it, anyway. She nodded and turned away, running towards the church-shaped structure that housed the New York Institute. The doors opened easily at her touch, and Clary tumbled into the Operations Center, looking around frantically.

“Please, come help! My friend has been taken!” she gasped breathlessly and turned to head back out the doors as several Shadowhunters, Jace and Alec among them, followed her out into the parking lot.

* * *

Watching as Clary paced back and forth was giving Alec a headache. He understood her worry and fear, but this was a complication he would have preferred to avoid. Isabelle grabbed Clary’s hand on her next pass, pulling her in close with an arm over her shoulders.

Underhill had gone through the security cameras and finally found what they thought was Simon’s disappearance the evening before. The scene played out in front of them, and there was no mistaking what had happened.

“So, it was definitely vampires,” Underhill finished, pausing the footage on one scene that gave a blurry glimpse of Simon being carted away.

Alec didn’t say anything for a long moment, considering the scene before him. Between Simon’s kidnapping, trying to track down Jonathan, and looking for Valentine, they were being stretched in too many directions. Magnus hadn’t arrived yet, but Jonathan had been out of the picture for well over a decade at this point, so Alec was going to put the mundane’s well-being above the mystery of Jonathan’s disappearance for the moment. With a plan in mind, he stepped closer to the middle of the group.

“Jace, Izzy. You’ll go with Clary to track Simon,” he ordered, looking at the three of them. “Scouting only. Do not engage the vampires until you have a better idea of what’s going on. We need to find where he is and who has him. If this is the New York clan’s actions, they’re violating the Accords, and that opens a bigger can of worms.” He looked at them, hoping he had conveyed the seriousness of the situation with just those words. This was a messy bomb waiting to explode all over them at the worst possible time.

Jace and Izzy nodded while Clary’s attention seemed fixed elsewhere. It would have to do.

His gaze turned to Jocelyn, who was looking over the group with a worried expression, as well. Next to her, Luke stood with a hand on her shoulder. The police detective had decided against putting in a missing person report just yet due to the involvement of the vampires. The last thing they needed was for mundane police to engage vampires.

“Jocelyn, Luke. Magnus will be here soon, and then we’ll use what you’ve got to see if we can track down Jonathan.” There was no telling where Jonathan was, though, and he had no idea how Warlock tracking actually worked.

The group nodded. “All right. Let’s go. Keep in touch,” he said as a final order to the trio going out to look for Simon. He looked at Underhill, Jocelyn, and Luke. “We’ll wait in the office until Magnus gets here.”

Underhill nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure he gets to your office.”

Alec nodded and then started walking, the others falling into step behind him.

* * *

They weren’t waiting long for Magnus. The Warlock arrived less than half an hour after they’d gone to the Head’s office. Jocelyn and Luke were murmuring in the seating area while Alec worked on catching up on the never-ending stack of reports that seemed only to grow daily. There was a brief knock on the door, and Magnus entered, striding forward as he did.

Alec stood and walked around the desk to greet him with a quick kiss. There was something heady about being able to do this in front of people now, and he worried he’d become addicted to public displays of affection if he wasn’t careful. He could just imagine the ribbing he would get from his siblings.

Magnus smiled at him, then turned towards Luke and Jocelyn. He nodded in greeting. “Were you able to locate an item?” he asked, moving over to the sitting area.

Jocelyn nodded and pulled the box that was on the couch next to her forward. She opened it and pulled the lock of hair free, holding it tightly in her hand for a moment before handing it over to Magnus.

Taking the lock of hair, Magnus concentrated on it, and the blue light of his magic started gathering around his hands. Alec wondered if Jocelyn’s son was even still alive, and, if he was, Alec was curious to know what had happened to him over the last eighteen years. With Valentine as a father, the child might have grown up with the bigotry and prejudice of his father.

Magnus concentrated on the lock of hair for a long moment, the magic around his hands growing brighter as the time passed. Finally, he relaxed, letting out a long breath.

“I can’t get a solid lock on him,” Magnus said, shaking his head as the tension fell away from him with the dissipating magic.

Jocelyn’s mouth firmed into a tight line as she looked at the floor.

Luke stood by stoically, but then his head tilted to the side. “You couldn’t get a solid lock….but that means he’s alive, then?” he asked, voice quiet as he glanced at Jocelyn. Her head lifted as she looked at Magnus, who nodded in response to the question.

“Yes, I am confident that he’s alive. In fact,” Magnus said, looking between the three of them, “I believe he is in the New England area, though I couldn’t get anything more specific than that.”

Jocelyn was staring at him, wide-eyed. “Why do you think that is?” she asked.

“It could be for any number of reasons,” he replied, shaking his head. “If he has wards, my efforts could be bouncing off them. But as we don’t know anything about his abilities, truly, it’s very difficult to say.”

“So, we have no other way of tracking him down,” Luke said, confirming what they were all thinking. “But we do know that he is alive and might be a player in whatever Valentine’s plans are.”

Alec nodded grimly. “That does sound about right.” He sighed and looked at Jocelyn and Luke. “Jocelyn, we can assign you to a patrol if you want to stay in the area. Or, if Luke’s agreeable, the two of you can take your own patrol assignment and look for signs of Valentine. What do you prefer?”

Jocelyn and Luke shared a look, and after a brief nod from Luke, Jocelyn said, “We’ll take a patrol. Angel knows I could use something to keep my mind occupied right now.”

Alec nodded and called Underhill to his office. After giving the orders, Luke and Jocelyn followed him from the room to head out on patrol. The door closed softly behind them, and Alec looked to Magnus, who was staring into the fire, his expression distant. Alec walked over to stand next to him.

“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly.

Magnus finally looked away from the fire. “Many things, darling. Mostly wondering how a mother could abandon her son. I’m having difficulty getting past that with Jocelyn, as well as her referring to the ‘taint’ of his demon blood.” He swallowed. “I’m not sure what state the boy will be in when he eventually turns up, but I’m sure he has not fared well.”

Alec nodded. “Agreed. It’s another ball in the air,” he said with a sigh, feeling the exhaustion of the unknown weighing on him. “My main concern is still that Valentine has the Sword. I wish there was something we could do to remove the threat that poses.”

Magnus was silent for a long moment, obviously lost in thought. He was staring off into the distance again, frowning. The silence stretched as he thought, and Alec let his thoughts drift. Finally, Magnus spoke. “There…might be something we can do,” he said slowly.

Alec raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a book of spells, the Book of the White. You’ve heard of it?” he asked.

Alec nodded, frowning. “Yes, but it’s forbidden. And it’s lost anyway, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know where it is currently. It’s forbidden by the Clave,” Magnus said, grimacing, “but it was never theirs to begin with. It should be in the possession of the Spiral Labyrinth. While I agree that keeping dark and harmful spells from the general population is good, there is also much knowledge within that could help.” He looked at Alec, his expression still grim. “If there’s anything that can help us protect the Downworlders from the Sword, it will be in that book.”

Pressing his lips together, Alec nodded. “Where do we even start to look for it? I really wish we weren’t adding another lost white lamb to our growing fog,” he said.

“I understand, darling,” Magnus said, gripping Alec’s arm. “The last person I know had the Book was my friend, Ragnor. We should start there and see if he knows what became of it.”

Alec nodded. “All right.” He looked at the time. “Lydia and Izzy should be back from the Citadel soon, so, depending on wherever this Ragnor lives, we can go then or when you say.”

* * *

The time worked out so that Magnus and Alec could visit Ragnor when Lydia and Izzy returned. The portal deposited them in a green field surrounded by trees, early morning sunlight shining brightly over them. Alec looked around the English field and thought it was peaceful.

“He’s expecting us, right?” he asked, following Magnus across the field.

A green ring of flame answered his question, and he looked at Magnus with a raised eyebrow.

Magnus shrugged. “Yes, he’s expecting us,” he said and stepped forward through the fire.

Alec sighed and followed, feeling the strange tingle of magical fire over his body. He emerged from the other side alone. “Magnus?” he called, looking around.

“Magnus!?”

There was no response to his shout, and Alec took off towards the cottage at the other end of the field at a trot. He didn’t really worry. Magnus had described the teasing relationship he’d had with the other Warlock for the last few centuries. Part of him was actually jealous at the idea of having Magnus in his life for that long.

The cottage was quiet as he approached. The side door was ajar, and Alec looked in, wondering if it had been left open as an invitation or for some other purpose.

“Hello?” he called. “Magnus? Mr. Fell?”

There was no answer, so Alec pushed the door open and stepped cautiously inside. The entrance was cluttered with books and knickknacks stacked and scattered on every surface and up the walls. He eased into the entryway, looking around for any signs of Magnus or Ragnor. He turned a corner and saw a portrait on the wall of a man with horns in what looked like 19th-century garb. Stairs to his right led up to a loft level, and a sitting room sat to the left, a fire burning merrily in the hearth. The books were stacked in little piles going up the stairs and all around the room.

If Magnus hadn’t been so sure of their welcome, Alec would have been much more concerned than he was feeling at that moment. It also helped that Magnus had shared some of the pranks he and Ragnor had regularly pulled on each other, so he hoped this was just something in that vein. Alec stepped into the sitting room and moved closer to the fire, looking at the trinkets and books.

“I’ll just wait here, then?” he asked to the room in general.

“I suppose that is an option, my boy, but quite dull.”

Alec whirled around at the unexpected voice. There had definitely been no one else in the room a minute ago. He looked at the man standing before him and noticed the similarity to the portrait in the hallway. “Mr. Fell?” he asked.

The Warlock in front of him gave a smile that was all teeth. “Indeed. Since you’ve entered my home, I feel I should know your name, as well,” Ragnor said.

“Oh, I’m Alec Lightwood. I came here with Magnus.”

“You seem to have misplaced him,” Ragnor said, looking behind Alec.

Alec nodded slowly, wondering what was going on. “I have, yes. You haven’t seen him, have you?”

Ragnor crossed his arms and tapped his chin. “Well, now, that information will cost you, lad.” He glanced at the chairs Alec was standing in front of and shook his head. “Oh, no. I definitely think something more valuable is warranted.”

“Excuse me?” Alec asked. He was feeling more confused by the minute. “I thought he was your friend.”

“Of course!” Ragnor said cheerily. “One of my oldest, indeed.”

“And you’re not concerned he’s disappeared?”

Ragnor made a dismissive motion. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

Alec sighed. This was not how he’d imagined this meeting going. “And what could I offer in exchange for information about his location?” Alec asked. They didn’t really have time for this.

Ragnor’s grin went sly. “Shall we call it a favor owed?”

“Nothing illegal or overly dangerous,” Alec clarified, frowning.

“Done!” Ragnor waved a hand, and Magnus appeared, tied to the chair next to Ragnor. He was scowling. “It’s very good to see you, my friend,” Ragnor said as he stepped closer and clapped Magnus on the shoulder. “And I see you’ve brought along your Shadowhunter.”

“I would have introduced you if you hadn’t gotten carried away with your theatrics,” Magnus complained, shrugging Ragnor’s hand off his shoulder as he stood. “As much as I wish we were here for a casual visit, I’m afraid we have a troubling situation brewing courtesy of Valentine Morgenstern.”

“And what is that madman up to now?” Ragnor asked.

Alec broke into the conversation. “He stole the Soul Sword from the Silent City.”

Ragnor’s jaw dropped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. “My word,” he said in a reedy voice. “What has that to do with me?”

“The Sword, given certain conditions that Morgenstern is very close to meeting, instantly kills all beings with demon blood in its path,” Magnus said. “We need the Book of the White, Ragnor.”

“Well, you’ve certainly got a bit of a sticky wicket there, haven’t you, old boy?” Ragnor said, shaking his head.

Alec was frowning, trying to follow what was going on. “Are you able to help us with the Book, Mr. Fell?”

“Call me Ragnor, please. And no, I haven’t seen the Book in decades,” Ragnor said, shaking his head. He looked to Magnus. “I do think there may be something in there that could help in this situation, though.”

Magnus grimaced. “Hmm. That is my suspicion, as well. Do you have any idea where it may have ended up?”

Ragnor went quiet for a moment, frowning in thought. He brightened suddenly. “Ah! I think I have just the thing,” he said and left the room without another word.

Alec and Magnus followed him around the corner, watching as he hopped up the stairs to the loft area. There was the sound of rustling from the loft, a thunderous rumble as something crashed to the floor, and a moan of dismay before Ragnor’s head popped up around the post at the top of the stairs.

“Ah ha! I found it!” he said, grinning at Magnus and Alec as he clattered down the stairs, somehow managing to avoid the stacks balanced precariously on each step.

Magnus glanced at Alec with a raised brow before looking back to his friend. “And what, dear cabbage, have you found?”

Ragnor scowled at Magnus briefly before holding a scrap of fabric aloft. “This is from the Book of the White! We can use it to track its current location.”

“Wonderful!” Magnus exclaimed, holding a hand out towards Ragnor. “You are the best cabbage of all the cabbages, darling!”

Alec huffed in amusement at Magnus’ antics and gazed at the other man, adoration welling within him. Ragnor looked less amused by the nickname, but only rolled his eyes before handing over the fabric. Magnus immediately began focusing intently, blue magic swirling around his hands and the fabric as he began tracking the Book.

Several long moments passed in silence before he slowly opened his eyes, all of his previous enthusiasm dimmed.

“What’s wrong?” Alec asked, frowning as he reached out to place a hand on Magnus’ arm in what he hoped was a soothing gesture. “No luck?”

Magnus didn’t say anything for a moment, looking first at Alec then to Ragnor. Finally, he sighed. “I found the book’s current owner,” he said, voice unnaturally quiet. “It’s Camille.”

“Oh, dear,” Ragnor said, and a look of understanding flashed across his face.

Alec understood, as well, unfortunately. Magnus had finally told him about that relationship one evening when they’d been cuddled together under the covers of Magnus’ bed. It was, perhaps, his most significant relationship prior to meeting Alec and it had left Magnus scarred in ways that he was probably never going to fully recover from.

“Oh, dear, indeed,” Alec murmured, drawing Magnus closer in support. There was no choice but to go after the book, but that did not make the situation any easier to deal with. Looking to Ragnor, Alec gave a grim smile. “Thank you for your help, Ragnor. We appreciate it.”

Ragnor waved off the thanks. “There is little I would not do for Magnus,” he said, giving his long-time friend a meaningful look. “Now, do you have time for tea?” Ragnor asked. Without waiting for an answer, he bustled Magnus and Alec back into the sitting room.

Alec glanced at Magnus and saw that he was still lost in his own thoughts. It wouldn’t hurt to spend a bit visiting with Ragnor. They would make the time.

“Tea sounds great,” Alec said, smiling at the other Warlock as he guided Magnus towards one of the chairs. Hopefully, the visit with his friend would help bring him out of whatever thoughts were currently plaguing him.

* * *

Chapter 12

“You’re sure he’s here?” Clary asked, looking up at the abandoned Hotel DuMort skeptically.

Isabelle nodded next to her, also looking up at the hotel. “Yeah. This is where the tracking showed us.” She sighed and shook her head. “It’s definitely not rogue vampires.”

“Well, how do we get him back?” Clary asked. She winced slightly at hearing how impatient her words came out but didn’t take them back. Simon was her best friend; he didn’t deserve to be dragged into all of this.

“That’s the question,” Jace murmured, moving closer and raising a hand to rest gently on the small of her back.

“Do we just…break in?” she asked.

“Vampires are people, too,” Isabelle said, shaking her head. “We can’t just charge in unless we want to break the Accords.” She looked at Clary. “Besides, I’m not one for freestyle murder, personally.”

Clary felt Jace nod next to her. “Right. Let’s call Alec. We’re going to need to go in the front door.” Clary thought she heard a faint tinge of wistfulness despite his words and wondered at it.

They retreated a few blocks, and Izzy pulled out her phone to call Alec. Clary leaned against the building, wondering if Simon was all right.

“What do you think they’re doing to him?” she asked Jace, fear lacing her words.

Jace reached out and slung his arm over her shoulder. She leaned into his side, letting the heat from his body sink into her body. He shook his head. “I don’t know. Hopefully, this was all just a prank of some sort, and they’re not doing anything to him,” he said.

“But why did they even take him?” she asked.

“He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. We try to keep the area around the Institute monitored, but things have been so busy lately with the attacks Valentine’s been orchestrating,” Jace said, looking off into the distance.

Izzy’s voice on the phone was a gentle murmur in the background. The chill of the night air was sharp on her skin, and Clary looked up at Jace. “Do you think that’s why they took him? Revenge?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe. I don’t know.” Jace looked down at her, his dual-colored eyes boring into her. “We will do everything we can to get him back,” he said, and the timbre of his voice made Clary desperate to believe him.

She gave him the barest smile and dropped her head onto his shoulder, watching as Izzy finished her call and walked back over to them.

“What did Alec say?” Jace asked.

Izzy looked between the pair of them, expression serious. “He wants us to meet back at the Institute. He’s putting together a delegation to send to the Dumort to discuss the situation with Camille Belcourt. She’s in violation of the Accords as the leader of the New York clan.”

“So, what, we’re just going to walk in the front door and arrest her?” Jace asked, incredulous. “That’s going to go well.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow at his attitude. “It sounded like he had something else in mind,” she said, then glanced at the time on her phone. “Come on. We need to get going if we’re going to get this done before dawn. Otherwise, we’ll be waiting till tonight.”

Clary looked back in the direction where the Hotel Dumort lay and frowned. She didn’t like the idea of leaving Simon in the Vampire’s lair for another minute, but she trusted Izzy and Jace. The thought of being an indiscriminate killer also really bothered her. If they had just charged in looking for Simon, killing Vampires as they went, Clary realized they would be no better than her sperm donor, and there was no way she was on board that train.

* * *

Alec looked at the group assembled in front of the central table in the Operations Center. After they’d returned from Ragnor’s, Magnus had told him more about the details of his previous relationship with the current leader of the Vampire clan. He’d be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t felt a flare of jealousy and trepidation. From what he’d told Alec in the past, Camille had been a significant part of his life for a long time – much longer than Alec expected to be.

They’d been left scrambling for ideas of how to get the Book from her. And then Isabelle had called and dropped the perfect opportunity right into their laps. Alec didn’t generally believe in coincidence, so he had to wonder at this. Everything about the situation felt…off to him, and he couldn’t quite explain why, to himself or to others.

Alec pulled himself from his thoughts and looked again at the assembled Shadowhunters and two Downworlders standing around the table. An unfamiliar face in the crowd caught his eye, and he glanced at Lydia, standing next to him.

“Who is that?” he asked, under his breath, and gestured towards the tall blond man standing towards the back of the group.

Lydia glanced over and then back to Alec. She leaned closer. “Sebastian Verlac. He’s doing a Grand Tour.”

Alec quirked an eyebrow. He’d heard of people doing Grand Tours before, where they spent time temporarily assigned to Institutes scattered around the world. It was a way for ambitious Shadowhunters lacking a family name with significant status to network and make connections. This Sebastian Verlac was probably looking for a position with the Council at some point. If he recalled correctly, though, the Verlacs were a branch of the Penhallow family, so he already had some connections to draw on, at least. Refocusing his thoughts, Alec nodded and accepted what she said. They could always use extra bodies, so it wasn’t like having him here created any issues.

“I’m putting together a team to go deal with the local Vampire clan leader, Camille Belcourt. At least one of her clan members kidnapped a Mundane from his van in the parking lot outside the Institute,” Alec began. “By holding this Mundane, she is in violation of the Accords and must be dealt with accordingly. However, it is our responsibility and desire to maintain peaceful relations with the Downworlders. We believe this incident was at least partially a reaction to the attacks by Circle members posing as our people.”

There were nods from most of those present as they took in this information. A low hum of murmurs was running through the crowd, but Alec ignored that for the moment and continued.

“I’m taking two teams to the Hotel Dumort. One team will negotiate the Downworlder’s release and resolution of the Accords violation. The other team will provide backup support if needed.” He looked over the crowd. “The negotiation team will be accompanied by High Warlock Magnus Bane and a representative from the local Werewolf Pack, Luke Garroway. Lydia will have your specific team assignment.”

He looked over to where Clary and Jace were standing. “Clary, Jace. A word, please,” Alec said and stepped away from the central table as Lydia handed out the assignments to the Shadowhunters present.

Jace and Clary joined Alec, and he looked at the two. He could see the worry on Clary’s face and knew he was making the right decision. “Clary, I need you to stay here while we go do this.”

“But —” she began, but Alec held up a hand to cut her off.

“I know you want to come with us, but you’re too close to the situation. This will be a very delicate negotiation, and there’s more at stake than just your friend. Your mother will be coming with the negotiation team. Please trust us to do everything necessary to recover Simon, all right?” he asked, giving her an earnest look.

Her eyes welling with tears, Clary nodded and looked away. “All right. Please bring him back,” she whispered. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to him because of me.”

Alec reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. “This is not your fault, Clary. It’s just a bad situation that Simon got caught up in. We will do our best to get him back in one piece.”

She nodded and sniffled slightly, and Alec grimaced. He looked at Jace. “I need you to stay here with Clary. Try to help her keep her mind off things while we’re gone.”

“Of course,” Jace said, gazing at Clary with an expression Alec had never seen before on his brother’s face. Jace had moved beyond besotted and was now into adoration.

If Alec hadn’t been in his own relationship, he’d probably be less disposed to finding his brother’s obvious infatuation adorable. As it was, he just shook his head, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, Jace.”

He looked over to the rest of the group. They were gearing up and getting ready to head out. “I’m going to go get ready. We’re running short on time if we want to get this done before sunrise.”

“Be careful, Alec,” Jace said, clapping a hand on Alec’s shoulder.

Alec nodded and walked away.

Preparations were completed, and Magnus opened a portal that would take them to the area just outside the Dumort. Alec gave him a nod of thanks along with a small smile. Together, they stepped through after the rest of the team had gone.

“You have your assignments. Let’s get this done, preferably without any fighting,” he said, and the two teams split.

Alec led his group to the front entrance of the Dumort and stepped inside. The lobby was empty when they entered. After a few moments, Alec heard the sound of footsteps tapping quickly in their direction. A petite woman of Asian descent appeared, looking at the group with raised eyebrows, her straight hair a dark curtain around her shoulders.

“Shadowhunters.” Her voice was flat, and she looked at them, clearly unimpressed with their appearance in her hotel. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Alec took a half-step forward. “I’m Alec Lightwood, Acting Head of the New York Institute. We are here regarding the kidnapping of the Mundane, Simon Lewis, by at least one member of your Clan. Please inform Ms. Belcourt that we need to see her.”

The woman scoffed, but before she could do more than open her mouth, another person stepped out of the shadows. “Lily, please inform Camille of their request,” he ordered, and the woman stared at him for a moment before rolling her eyes and striding away. The click of her heels was an angry exclamation with each step.

“Thank you, Raphael,” Magnus said, stepping up next to Alec.

The male Vampire quirked an eyebrow at Magnus but nodded. He didn’t say anything else, just stood in the room with them, staring at each person in turn. Alec found it disconcerting.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed before the sound of steps came towards them. There were significantly more feet involved this time, though, and Alec counted six people emerging from one of the hallways.

The woman leading the group was petite, as well, but she emanated an air of danger. Her smile was sharp as she looked at the Shadowhunters in the lobby but changed to something coyer when she spotted Magnus.

“Magnus, darling! How lovely to see you,” she said, still striding forward. “What interesting company you’re keeping these days, though.”

“Camille,” Magnus said, returning her greeting with a straight face and a respectful nod.

The woman stopped in front of Alec and Magnus, her entourage fanning out behind her. “Why have you graced me with your presence?” she asked, quirking her head at Alec.

“Camille Belcourt, you are currently in violation of the Accords. A Mundane by the name of Simon Lewis was kidnapped from the area near the New York Institute two nights ago. We have video footage showing one of your clan members carrying him away from his vehicle. Our tracking indicates he is currently in this building,” Alec said, straightening to his full height as he gave her the formal charge.

“I thought no one would ever come for him,” Camille said. “If you hadn’t gotten here when you did, I would have called!” Her face was all innocence. “You see, I just discovered that he was here.”

“Release him to us, and we’ll question him,” Alec said. He didn’t believe her words.

Camille looked over her shoulder at Raphael and nodded. The other Vampire left, presumably to retrieve Simon.

“Now, he’ll be here momentarily, and then you and your party may leave my building.”

Alec shook his head slightly. “There’s still the matter of the violation of the Accords to deal with. You’ll need to come with us for the questioning. If we find that his memory has been altered, you’ll stand trial for the incident.”

Camille raised an eyebrow, her expression gone flat and dangerous. “I told you that I just discovered his presence, and I was about to call. How is that a violation of the Accords?”

“The Mundane was taken two days ago. It’s either a violation of the Accords or a severe lapse in your ability to lead this Clan if you just found out about it.” Alec paused and looked at the other Vampires gathered. “However, so long as the Mundane is in good health, your assistance in a matter related to the current situation with the Circle would be appreciated, and the charges will be dropped.”

“What assistance do you require?”

“You are in possession of a book, the Book of the White. We’ll consider this matter resolved if you hand the book over.”

Camille frowned and glanced at Magnus. “What could you possibly need that for?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the details, but suffice it to say we are working on a way to counter Valentine Morgenstern’s recent activities.” Alec paused and decided to appeal to her sense of safety, for her Clan, if nothing else. “He’s found a way to eliminate any being with demon blood. We’re going to stop him, but we need the book to do so.”

Staring at him, Camille didn’t respond right away. It was long enough for Raphael to return with Simon. The mundane had a Vampire bite on his neck and looked a bit pale, but it should be nothing he couldn’t recover from.

“Here he is. As you can see, he’s perfectly fine,” Camille said, smirking at them.

Alec quirked an eyebrow. “He looks a bit worse for wear, Camille. I see someone’s fed from him.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you the damn book, but I want it in writing that this matter is resolved.”

Alec looked at Simon, who was staring at everyone wide-eyed. His gaze landed on Jocelyn, and he took a step forward. “Ms. Fray?” he called.

Glancing back at Jocelyn, Alec nodded, and the woman broke ranks to go over to where Simon was standing. “Are you all right, Simon?” she asked quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Simon nodded. “Um. I think so? I feel a bit loopy, but I’m all right.”

Alec nodded at Camille. “In writing, once we have the book. And we’ll escort you to retrieve it so that we can verify it’s the correct book,” he informed her.

Camille rolled her eyes but walked over to take Magnus’ arm. “As you wish, Shadowhunter. I haven’t seen my darling Magnus in quite some time. It will be nice to catch up.” She grinned at Magnus.

Alec sighed but followed behind Camille and Magnus as they walked out into the night.

* * *

Inquisitor Imogen Herondale stepped through the portal to the New York Institute once more. Part of her was grimly satisfied to be making this trip. Another part felt it was just a waste of time. She nodded once to the Shadowhunters standing guard over the portal room and made her way through the Institute towards the Head’s office, expecting to find Lightwood there.

Her heels clicked with quiet determination as she strode through the building, but the sound was overshadowed by the clash of staves in one of the training rooms she was near. Imogen paused a moment, curious to see how the training was going. Her own training days were few and far between these days, but she tried to keep her skills from getting too rusty.

The pair she spotted had Imogen coming to a halt, lingering in the open doorway for a moment. Clarissa Morgenstern was sparring with the Wayland boy. Imogen was aware of his reputation as a fighter. She was curious how his skills in the training arena went.

The two sparred fiercely, attacking each other relentlessly. Imogen had to admit she was quite impressed with how far the girl had come in the short time she’d been in training. If nothing else, it spoke to her breeding as the daughter of two truly exceptional, if misguided, combatants.

After a few minutes of this activity, the pair finally stopped, and Imogen was about to move on when the Wayland boy stripped off his t-shirt, baring his back to her.

The bottom dropped out of her stomach as she stared at the painfully familiar birthmark on the boy’s shoulder. Just in the same place her Marcus and Stephen had had it. Spots were dancing in her vision, and she held onto the wall for a long moment as she rearranged her worldview.

Her grandson was alive.

Finally, Imogen brought her body back under her control and straightened. This changed things, and she would ensure her family had all the opportunities he deserved. She pushed away from the wall and hurried back to the portal room.

* * *

Chapter 13

Getting the Book had been the easy part.

Magnus was more convinced of that with each page he turned, every spell he read. Of course, he’d read this book before, but it had been deeply enchanted so that the contents would fade from the reader’s head in very short order after it had been read, leaving behind only general knowledge of the spells contained within the book. Copies written out ended up a jumble of nonsensical words, despite the writer’s surety that they’d pulled each word directly from the pages of the Book as they wrote.

There was so much knowledge in this book that would never fix itself in any one person’s head. Magnus was in awe of the way the spells were constructed. They would be impossible to unravel and remove. It was honestly a good thing that no Warlock he’d ever spoken to had the compulsion to do anything other than protect the Book.

Now, though, he read each page, reading the narrative closely and skimming over the actual spell, when he realized it wasn’t the one he was looking for. They had a particular task to perform if they wanted to create some sort of protection for the Downworlders in New York.

Magnus leaned back in his chair, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. He was only a quarter of the way through the book, and he was exhausted like he’d been at this for days instead of hours. A cup of coffee suddenly appeared at his elbow on the table, just the way he liked it. Magnus blinked at it for a moment and wondered how he’d summoned it without using magic.

The hands that dropped down on his shoulder answered the question.

Magnus jumped and then relaxed as he realized he’d gotten so absorbed in the book that he hadn’t realized Alec had come up next to him. He leaned back in the chair, dropping his head against one powerfully muscled forearm, and looked up at Alec.

“Hi,” Alec said, smiling down at him as he massaged tense shoulders.

“Hello, darling. Thank you for the coffee?” he asked, just to make sure he wasn’t subconsciously conjuring things.

Alec chuckled. “You’re welcome.” He leaned down and dropped an upside-down kiss on Magnus’ lips. The massage turned into more of a caress than anything else, but Magnus was definitely not complaining.

“How’s it going?” Alec asked, nodding his head towards the book on the table.

“I’d forgotten how draining it is to read this text.” Magnus grimaced. “It’s, unfortunately, a very easily forgotten book, thanks to the spells woven into it. There’s an extra component built in that causes the reader to exert a great deal more effort to stay focused on it than they would on other books,” Magnus explained.

“Do you need a break?” Alec asked, concerned.

Magnus shook his head. He felt an urgency to get through the book and find the spell that he was thinking of…if there even was such a spell. His memory of the book was foggy, at best, but he felt sure that this was the book the spell was in. The fact that he was having such a hard time remembering specifically was his most significant clue. Magnus generally remembered most things that he read without effort.

“No, I want to get through this book. On the off chance that it’s not actually in this book, I’ll need to begin a more pervasive search and possibly go to the Shadow Labyrinth to check the libraries there,” Magnus said.

Alec nodded. “You should take a break for dinner in a while, though. Especially if it’s draining you like this,” he added, concern lacing his tone. “You’re important to me.”

Magnus smiled up at him. “I know. Thank you, darling. Hopefully, I’ll find the spell before dinner. If not, I will take a short break to eat with you and then finish looking this evening.”

“All right.” Alec leaned down to press another kiss to Magnus’ forehead. He dropped a second on the tip of his nose and then followed up with a final kiss on his lips. “Let me know if you want more coffee,” Alec said and then pulled away with a small smile.

Magnus returned the smile and then enjoyed the view as Alec left the room. As he rounded the corner, the smirk tossed over the Shadowhunter’s shoulder said he was all too aware of his audience.

Feeling refreshed, Magnus returned to the Book before him, a small smile still tugging at his lips.

* * *

He didn’t find the spell before dinner.

It was almost two hours beyond the meal, and Magnus was over halfway through the book when he turned another page, and the spell was there, laid out in front of him. He heaved a sigh of relief as he read the passage, though his relief quickly gave way to consternation.

The ancient spell was designed to bond the Head of the Institute to the Angelic Core. It had been one of the earliest ways that the Head was chosen before the Council was established. Through bonding, the Angelic Core provided several boons to the Shadowhunters pledged to the Head, including increased stamina, speed, and healing without the use of a rune. The bond also provided extra protection to the territory that the Shadowhunters lived and worked in by utilizing the area’s ley lines.

Once established, the bond was semi-permanent and could only be passed on to the next Head of the Institute. Death also broke the bond. One of the drawbacks was that the Head could only leave the territory of the Institute for short periods and would feel the urge to return.

The last part of the spell made Magnus frown. The bond was only supposed to be used by a married Head as the Wedded Union rune helped balance the load of power influx generated by the Core. The entry in the Book then went on to reference yet another tome with further spell requirements located there.

Magnus hadn’t seen any other spells in the book that referred the caster to another reference. That, in itself, was enough to give him pause. Added to Alexander’s lack of a Wedded Union rune, Magnus was concerned about undertaking the spell all together.

He pushed the book away from him and stared out his office window, though his gaze didn’t fix on anything in particular. Thoughts of the consequences of an un-married Head undertaking the ritual consumed him, and he missed the door swinging open silently.

A hand dropping on his shoulder jolted Magnus out of his thoughts. He looked up and smiled at Alexander, though he thought it might have come out as more of a grimace than anything else.

“What’s wrong?” Alexander asked, settling his hip on the edge of the desk next to him.

Magnus shook his head. “This spell is…a lot, Alexander.”

Alec’s eyes widened in surprise. “You found it?”

“I did,” Magnus said.

The silence between them stretched as Magnus tried to decide where to start explaining his concerns about the spell.

“What’s wrong with the spell? What does it do?” Alec asked, frowning.

With a sigh, Magnus settled back in his chair. “It would bond you directly to the Angelic Core.”

Alec blinked at him, face blank as he digested that statement. “I…see.”

“I’m not sure I see, to be honest, darling,” Magnus said, smiling gently. “The bond with the Core provides several benefits, mostly protection and enhanced abilities to the Shadowhunters in your territory. There is a component that lends protection, though it’s not specific in how that protection manifests, to the entire territory through the ley lines.”

Alec looked thoughtful. “So, what don’t you like about this spell?” he asked. “That all sounds like what we’ve been looking for.”

“There are a few things at first read. It’s a semi-permanent bond, Alexander. You’d only be able to be rid of the bond through transfer to the next Head of the Institute or through your death. And from what I’m reading, the Core has to agree to the transfer to the new Head. The ritual fails if the candidate is deemed unworthy. It seems as though this ritual was an early method for declaring who the leader of a territory would be.

“It’s designed for married Heads. The Wedded Union rune helps balance the influx of power from the Core,” Magnus continued. “And you’re not married unless there’s something you’ve not yet shared.”

Alec shot him a look that said everything Magnus needed to hear. He smiled up at the Shadowhunter before he continued. “There’s also the fact that we need another book for the full ritual.” He shook his head. “I haven’t come across any other spells in the Book that sends you to another, outside reference for additional spell components. It’s very odd.”

“Huh.” Alec went quiet for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “How is this the first I’m hearing of this ritual?”

Magnus shrugged. “It seems like something the Council would try to outlaw, don’t you think? The power to determine and name Heads of Institutes taken by the Core? Not to mention, the bond’s semi-permanent nature would likely lead to some long-term appointments.”

“When Lydia and I were preparing our proposal for the Clave, we did notice that there used to be much lengthier terms for Heads. It’s only in the last couple hundred years that leadership has changed as much as it does,” Alec murmured, thoughtful.

He refocused on Magnus. “Do you have a copy of the book it references?”

Magnus shook his head. “No, it’s not a title I recognize, so I doubt the Shadow Labyrinth has it, either. I’ll send a fire message to Ragnor to see if he has it.”

“I wonder if there could be a copy in the Institute’s library,” Alec said. “Considering it’s a ritual for Nephilim, it’s worth checking.”

Magnus nodded. “Yes.” He looked away for a moment, debating whether or not to say what was on his mind. “Alexander… I’m not sure you should do this ritual.”

Alec sighed. “I know. I’m not sure I should do it, either, but if it protects my people and the territory, I don’t see that I have truly have a choice.”

“But what about the Wedded Union rune?” Magnus asked, shaking his head. “Are you planning to marry Lydia?” His heart clenched at that thought, and he wondered if it was a real possibility. Even if it was a marriage-in-name-only, Alec wasn’t the type to stray from vows. Neither was Magnus, for that matter.

“Magnus, no, of course not!” Alec said. “I wouldn’t do that to you or to Lydia.” His expression went heartbreakingly earnest then as he leaned forward to place a hand on Magnus’ cheek.

“I love you,” Alec said, the words laced with something that Magnus didn’t quite understand.

The way he said it implied a deeper meaning that Magnus wasn’t privy to, and he wondered if it was something related to Nephilim, specifically. Still, he smiled at the reassurance and leaned his face into Alec’s hand. “I love you, too, Alexander. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Alec just smiled at him again and leaned forward to drop a kiss on his lips. “I’ll be okay,” he said, voice a deep rumble of reassurance.

Magnus looked at him and hoped that he was right.

“I need to get back to the Institute. What’s the name of the book that we need?” he asked. “I’ll check the library and send you a message if we have it.”

Magnus told him, and Alec made a note on his phone, nodding. “Let me know if you find anything else?” he asked, nodding towards the Book.

“I will,” he replied, standing and moving closer to Alec, stepping between his spread legs as he sat perched on the desk. Magnus leaned in closer, looking for another, deeper kiss to express to his Shadowhunter just how much he meant to him.

Magnus pulled back several long moments later, lips deliciously wet from their kisses. Both panted, and Alec’s pupils were blown wide. Leaning in to press one last kiss to the corner of Alec’s mouth, Magnus brushed his hand across the beloved face looking back at him. “Be safe,” he murmured before moving to give Alec room to stand.

Alec slowly gathered himself and cleared his throat as he stood. “I will.”

With one last look, Magnus followed him to the door of the loft, where he’d left his bow, quiver, and seraph blade.

“I’ll see you soon,” Alec murmured, stepping out of the loft with one last lingering look.

The door closed softly behind him, and Magnus stood staring at it for a long moment. He finally shook himself free of the sense of foreboding that had wrapped itself around his heart and sent a fire message to Ragnor, asking after the other text. That done, he turned to head back to his office. He wanted to go over the rest of the book and make sure there were no other spells or rituals that would have less of a direct impact on Alexander.

* * *

Alec looked at the book he’d pulled from the shelf, written in Latin and a bit dusty. He made a mental note that the library needed a good cleaning, at least this section that appeared to be very underutilized.

He wondered when the ritual had last been enacted. Was the Council truly responsible for ending the practice? Did they really value the additional power so much that they’d rather strip protections and enhanced runes from their Shadowhunters?

It was definitely something he could see the Council doing.

Alec grimaced as he thought about everything Magnus had shared with him as he moved over towards one of the tables in the library. He sat, turning the desk lamp on as he did. This ritual seemed like a potential solution to their Valentine problem, especially if the protection it provided to the territory was robust enough to keep the Soul Sword from working on the Downworlder population.

Beyond that, though, Alec wasn’t sure how he could say no to undertaking the ritual. Any advantage he could give to his people would be worth the cost. That was one thing he was absolutely sure of, though he was concerned about the fact that he wasn’t married and didn’t plan to have a Wedded Union bond with another Shadowhunter.

Sighing, he flipped the book open and looked for the ritual. The Latin text was faded and ornate, making it more challenging to read than he felt was necessary. Still, he powered through, flipping from page to page, searching for the ritual.

He finally found it and read the text several times to ensure he had it correct. Alec wondered why it was in the Book of the White if the ritual was for Nephilim. He thought, perhaps, that it was there as a way to keep a record of things, given how the Council had apparently hidden or abolished the ritual in the first place.

As Alec read through the ritual, he felt a sense of peace settling in him. He knew he was going to do the ritual. There was a rightness about everything that felt like a warm blanket on a cold night. It had been a very long time since Alec could remember feeling the same sense of peace, and he thought, for a moment, that the Core was already partially bonding to him. He shook his head at that, doubting the possibility. How could the Core have bonded to him, even partially, without completing the ritual? From what Alec was reading, the willing consent of both parties was a key component.

He had to admit he found that reassuring.

Reading through the information on the ritual again, Alec felt an urge to go visit the Core. The ritual itself didn’t seem overly complicated, and, again, he wasn’t really sure why it had been in the Book of the White in the first place. It didn’t require anyone but the intended Head to be present, as the Core would take care of everything else. The Core would judge him, and it would reject the bond if it found him wanting. The text said there were consequences of this, but it didn’t detail them. Alec didn’t feel he had anything to worry about, but he’d always had a sense of doubt about his worthiness.

At least, since finding Magnus, he’d realized that his parents were to blame for most of his insecurities. It was still hard to just put aside things that had festered for two decades, though, and he had a feeling it would take a long time before he truly got past his upbringing.

The last line of the text was only two words: memento sperare. Remember to hope.

Alec held that thought in his mind as he stood from the desk and pushed the chair in. He took the book with him as he walked through the Institute to the elevator and took that down to the Core room. He stood in the antechamber, staring into the glowing bluish-white ball. The sense of peace that he had felt in the library was only growing as he stood there looking into the orb.

“Memento sperare,” he murmured.

A tendril of white light unfurled from the orb and came towards him as he stood there. It passed through the glass separating the containment room from the antechamber without so much as a pause but then stopped a foot away from him.

In the back of his mind, Alec heard something that defied description. The closest he could get was that it sounded like the chorus of angels, which no one living had ever heard. The sound grew until it became a presence that he felt. The presence was gentle, but he could feel the weight of the power it held pressing gently on his mind.

He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he could tell that it was asking for permission to go further.

This was nothing like the ritual he had read, and Alec felt fear spike in him for a moment before the presence eased back slightly, and all he could feel from it was something soothing.

Memento Sperare…remember to hope.

Alec held onto that thought as he consciously gave permission to the Core to proceed.

* * *

Chapter 14

The presence in the back of his mind grew like a tsunami of sound and energy. Alec was swept away, and the world around him faded into the same white-blue glow of the Angelic Core. All of his senses were subsumed by the Core’s presence, and Alec’s only course of action was to see it through to the end.

He had no concept of time, just the sameness of the white void he’d found himself surrounded by. The next thing he was truly aware of, Alec found himself still surrounded by the white blankness, but he had more control over his senses. He could see that the void had depth, more like a fog that he was encased in rather than just a void. As moments ticked by, the fog retracted, consolidating into the Core.

Alec had the impression that he was standing before the Core, but he couldn’t see the antechamber he’d been in at the start. Instead, all that mattered was the Core, and Alec felt urged to go closer. He approached warily, steps stuttering as the tendril extended from the Core again. The Core seemed to glow brighter with each step, and the haze around it began to take shape.

Soon, he could see the outline of a human-shaped form with wings. His fingers were inches away from making contact with the tendril when the outline grew more solid, and a hazy overlay of a hand surrounded the tendril, reaching out to him palm up.

Memento sperare, a voice echoed.

Alec couldn’t say he heard it. The sound was more a feeling than anything, reverberating through his being, and a sense of peace flooded him. The tendril wrapped around his wrist and slowly twined its way up his arm until it curled over his collarbone. Eventually, the tendril wrapped his entire body, and Alec watched this happen from what seemed like a great distance. He could feel it happening, but there was no true sense of touch.

Slowly, the tendril sank into Alec.

He slammed back into his body, falling to his knees as he gasped for air. He was still in the haze, but he had a sense of having an independent form from the Core. When Alec looked up, he again saw the outline of an Angel surrounding the Core. They were smiling enigmatically at him and holding out their hand once again. Alec grasped the hand and was brought back to his feet.

Thank you, Alexander Gideon Lightwood. Follow, they urged, and Alec nodded.

The haze around him narrowed to a pinpoint of bright white light and shot upwards. It traveled through the Institute, stopping briefly to look at Jace and Clary. Both were glowing faintly with golden light that looked like it emanated from within their bodies. Other Shadowhunters flicked in and out of view, but none of them had the same glow.

Before Alec could wonder too long about what that meant, they were on the move once more. Still moving upwards, they emerged from the top of the Institute and hovered there for a long moment.

Lines, shining brightly, appeared around the Institute. Alec recognized them immediately as the ley lines that were near the Institute. They chose one of the lines and dove toward it, sinking into the brightness. The light surrounding him took on the appearance of a long tunnel that curved smoothly as they traveled faster than Alec could comprehend.

He had no idea how long they traveled, but eventually, they shot upwards again, breaking from the line. They spun around, and Alec could see the demon towers of Alicante in the distance. Below them, a large lake lay perfectly still, the surface reflecting moonlight like a mirror.

Idris…

Another moment passed, and they were on the move again, but more slowly this time. They crested a hill, skimming over the forest beneath them until they reached a clearing with a large manor house set in the middle.

Alec felt like he recognized the house, but he couldn’t quite place it. He knew he’d seen it before, though, and he fixed it in his memory as they drew closer.

Nephilim were milling around outside the building, some obviously doing patrols while others trained. Alec recognized none of them. They entered the house, moving through hallways and corridors, passing more Nephilim inside, until they reached a door off the kitchen.

They sank through the door and slowly drifted down the stairs.

There, in the middle of the room, tightly bound by chains, was an angel. His appearance was old and haggard, misery radiating from him.

When he looked up and saw them, though, something shifted on his face, and the ghost of a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. It was his eyes that showed the most change, though. Before, they had been bleak and blank of emotion. Now, there was hope.

Ithuriel, the voice rumbled. Memento sperare.

“Memento sperare,” the angel whispered, seemingly using what little strength he had available to physically speak the words before his eyes slid shut.

They pulled back, moving the same way they’d entered. The reverse trip was just as chaotic but over quickly as they returned to the white fog room. Slowly, the fog started to recede, and Alec eventually found himself back in the antechamber of the Core containment room. He closed his eyes for a moment, the room spinning around him slightly, and worked to recenter himself.

There was a new awareness, now, of the presence he’d felt during the bonding. In the back of his mind, he could sense the Core and, by extension, the rest of the Institute. He leaned back against the wall and tried to absorb all the new information he was receiving from the bond. The moment Alec touched the wall, though, he received another flood of information, and it overwhelmed him. He sank to the floor, back still pressed to the wall for support.

He could sense the building and the people within it all around him. Each Shadowhunter in the area was tied to him with an ephemeral thread of the white light. He could feel their locations if he concentrated on them. Alec slowly focused on his hands, dragging his mind back to where his body was. His head was pounding like it was trying to make sense of the influx of information and somehow process it. In retrospect, Alec considered it may have been better to wait until they had researched the bond a bit more thoroughly before he’d proceeded.

It was done now, though, and Alec wasn’t looking forward to telling Magnus what he’d done. He knew he was in for a lecture. Probably several lectures, actually, once his siblings found out. Something nudged at his mind from something that was like peripheral vision. When Alec focused on it, he saw Jace and Izzy in the elevator and headed his way. The lectures were going to start sooner than expected.

Alec focused on them as something caught his attention. The pair had the faint tether bonding them to Alec, but they glowed with a brighter silver tether tying them together. He realized it must be their parabatai bond that he was seeing and felt awed at this new layer of information he was being given. How he could make use of it, he didn’t yet know, but there was so much information pouring into his mind that Alec knew he would need to figure out some way to compartmentalize everything, or he would end up sitting in a corner with his eyes closed.

The elevator doors slid open, and Izzy and Jace stumbled out, moving over towards him without pause.

“Alec! What happened?” Izzy asked, dropping to her knees next to him. She reached a hand out tentatively to touch him, and Alec was relieved when nothing new bombarded his senses.

He stared up at her, wondering where to start. They knew that he and Magnus had been looking for the ritual that would give them protection, but no one knew exactly what it entailed. Now, he was bound to the Angelic Core of the New York Institute, for better or worse, and he really wasn’t entirely sure how to explain that – to himself or anyone else.

“Uh…” Alec said finally, voice trailing off as he stared at the Core.

Izzy and Jace followed his gaze. Jace looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. “You did it, didn’t you?” he asked, nonplussed.

Alec looked between Izzy and Jace before nodding slowly. He could still see the parabatai bond, shining faintly silver between the two of them. Hopefully, he would find a way to mute that aspect of the new bond, or it might become a bit distracting.

“Yeah…”

Izzy shoved his shoulder. “Where is Magnus? Did you do this by yourself?” she asked, voice incredulous as she stared at her brother. Her mouth had dropped open, and she was obviously not asking him rhetorical questions.

Slowly, he nodded but didn’t say anything further. His gaze kept tripping back to the Core, and he could feel the weight of the bond in the back of his mind, constantly feeding him bits of information about the Institute and the Shadowhunters and so much more that he couldn’t name. There was so much to unpack and figure out with this bond. How was he supposed to manage this?

It was then that he remembered a key piece of information that Magnus had shared with him earlier that day. The bond had only ever been completed by married Shadowhunters bearing the Wedded Union rune. Even though only one Shadowhunter had the bond with the Core, it was startlingly clear that there must have been some manner of sharing between the couple, as well. If Alec could siphon off even a quarter of the information he was getting, it would make the bond bearable. As it was, he was struggling to keep focused on what was happening in the real world around him.

He’d tuned out of the conversation Izzy and Jace were having quietly next to him. A hand gripped under his armpit to help drag him to a standing position, and Alec startled at the unexpected touch. When he realized it was just Jace, he accepted the help.

“Easy, Alec,” Jace said, voice low. “We’re going to get you to the office. Izzy is calling Magnus and Lydia. Then you can tell us just what prompted you to lose your mind and do this without anyone else here.”

Alec nodded slowly, still glancing between his siblings and the Core. “Yeah, ok. Let’s do that,” he said. As they moved over to the elevator, Alec kept his gaze over his shoulder on the Core. Part of him couldn’t bear to leave the room, but another part was almost desperate to get away and see if the distance helped at all.

They made it to the office with little issue, only attracting glances as they passed through Operations. Alec wondered if everyone else was aware of the bond that existed between him and each of the Shadowhunters pledged to his Institute. He had a feeling they wouldn’t be aware of it until they actually benefited from it, and, even then, it would most likely just be that they noticed the enhanced rune abilities.

His siblings ushered him over to the couch and then sat opposite him. The door burst open a moment later, and Alec was pulled out of his drifting awareness to see that Magnus and Lydia had entered the office.

He wondered how long that moment had actually been as he caught sight of the concerned looks that Jace and Izzy were exchanging with Magnus and Lydia. Magnus dropped down next to him and reached out for one of his hands, pulling it into his grasp. Alec noted that the concern on his face seemed to be outweighing any possible anger for the moment.

“Darling. What were you thinking?” Magnus asked, his brown eyes searching Alec’s.

Alec stared back into his eyes, lost again in his thoughts of how beautiful both sets were. He smiled at Magnus and shrugged slightly. “I don’t think I was thinking,” he admitted. “Not when it actually happened, at least.”

He frowned. “But I had to be thinking because I consented to the bond,” he murmured, mostly to himself. As he searched his memories of the moment, it was like flashes of a movie, the images divorced from the feelings he’d experienced while living them.

“Could you…explain that a bit better, Alec?” Lydia asked, perching on the arm of Izzy’s chair.

Alec stared down at the coffee table between them, frowning. “I’m not sure. I…” His voice trailed off as he tried to figure out a way to put everything into words that they would understand. It was hard to concentrate on that when the pulsing of the bond in the back of his mind was so all-consuming.

“I mean…I found the book in the library,” he said, staring at something approaching the beginning of the tale. “I found the book, and it was in Latin. I read about the ritual, and it all made perfect sense. Everything about it was just…exactly right.”

Alec sighed and looked at the others. He could tell they didn’t really get what he was trying to convey. Trying again, he said, “I read the entry, and I knew I was going to do it.” He focused on the fire instead of the others. “It was less of a ritual and more of a…a willingness?” he said, voice lilting up in a question as he tried to find the right words. “A willingness to accept the bonding and share space with the Core.

“You all know I will do anything for the people under my protection, especially if it gives us any kind of edge against Valentine or any other challenges we face,” Alec said, voice firm. He finally looked around at his people.

Magnus sighed next to him and leaned forward to drop his head on Alec’s shoulder. “It’s done now, I suppose,” he murmured.

Alec nodded. “It is. And I saw Ithuriel. He’s somewhere in Idris.”

Jace frowned at him. “Somewhere? That’s…Idris is a small country, sure, but it’s still a country, Alec. How are we going to find him ‘somewhere’?”

“He’s in one of the manor houses near Lake Lyn. I know that much, at least. The house looked vaguely familiar to me, but all of those houses look similar,” Alec said. He wished he had some other detail he could lend that would help them find the house in question.

“There wasn’t anything else about the place that could give us a lead?” Izzy asked. She leaned towards him and reached a hand out to squeeze his wrist gently. “Any detail that jumped out at you?”

Alec closed his eyes and tried to let the bond fade into the background of his mind. The presence made it much more difficult to focus on anything else, but he was doing his best. The memory of the trip through the ley lines and into the manor house was more difficult to pull forward than he’d expected. It would have been very nice for memories to work like video footage that he could slow down and enhance to focus on other areas.

As it was, most of the images passed by in a blur of memory, as Alec truly only remembered certain parts of it with any clarity. His mind flashed to a memory out of sequence, then, and Alec stared at the front gates that he remembered passing through. There was a large “W” emblazoned across the front of the wrought iron, boldly stamped on the gate without any frilly embellishments.

He opened his eyes, drawing in a deep breath as he did so. There was only one family that he could think of with that particular initial that he knew had a manor house outside of Alicante. Alec looked at Jace, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. What did this mean?

Jace shook his head, meeting Alec’s gaze with confusion. “What?”

“Do you remember the gates outside your family’s home?” he asked quietly. Alec reached for the notepad he’d abandoned on the coffee table the day before and drew the letter he saw in his head. Spinning the notepad around, he nudged it towards Jace. “There was a ‘W’ on the gates in the vision. It looked like this.”

“Alec…” Jace breathed. He looked up, eyes wide. “But there have to be other families with names starting with W.”

Alec nodded. “Of course, but I don’t remember any of them having a house near Lake Lyn.” He tapped the paper, drawing attention back to it. “Is this what the letter on the gates looked like?”

Jace sighed, closing his eyes. “Yes. But…I don’t understand why Valentine would have an angel tucked away in my family’s abandoned home.”

Feeling his heart twist for his brother, Alec shook his head. “I don’t know, Jace. I don’t even know for sure that this is the Wayland estate, but at least it’s a place to start.”

Next to Jace, Izzy reached out to take Jace’s hand, holding onto it in an effort to give comfort. Alec knew she had to be feeling everything Jace was going through. “It doesn’t mean anything, Jace.”

Jace swallowed heavily and looked at her, his hand gripping hers like a lifeline. “What if it does mean something, though?”

Alec broke in. “Whatever it means, it doesn’t change that you’re our brother, Jace. You’re as much a Lightwood as you ever were a Wayland.” It had taken the siblings’ combined efforts to draw Jace out after he’d come to live with them. Alec didn’t like to think of what his life had been like with Michael Wayland as his father. Jace had been so damaged, his head filled with the saddest ideas.

Something tickled at the edge of Alec’s mind, teasing his focus away from the room in front of him. He sank back into the new presence he was bonded with and let it guide him along one tether that looked twisted and dark. It was very clear that he would find someone with bad intentions at the other end. When he finally reached the end, Alec felt more annoyed than anything else. It was Sebastian Verlac.

But it wasn’t…

Alec frowned, trying to understand what that meant. The bond was pressing at him, urging him to do something about his discovery. What he was supposed to do, Alec didn’t know. There was definitely something off with Sebastian, though, and Alec could tell it was a threat to the Institute and the rest of the Shadowhunters under his command.

He came back to himself amid a quiet argument happening between Jace, Izzy, and Magnus.

“This is too dangerous,” Lydia was saying.

“It’s just new,” Magnus replied.

Alec looked between them. “What?”

The others jumped slightly, likely startled to hear him speak.

“Alec!” Izzy exclaimed and leaned forward to take his hand. “You kind of spaced out there for a while. We couldn’t get your attention.”

“I was…looking at something?” Alec said, searching for the words to describe his experience. He shook his head and looked at Lydia. “We need to take Sebastian Verlac into custody. There’s something not…right…about him, but I don’t really know what it is.”

Lydia’s dubious expression made it clear what she thought about Alec’s imprecise words. “So, you want me to take him into custody because he doesn’t feel right to you?” she asked.

“Yes?” Alec said, knowing that it was a flimsy argument.

“All right,” Lydia said, shrugging and shaking her head as she left the room to do as he’d asked. “I’ll let you know when he’s in holding.”

“Thank you,” Alec called after her. He looked back at the others and found them staring at him. “I know, nothing makes sense. I don’t really get it, either, but there’s something wrong.”

“We trust you, Alec,” Jace said with a small smile.

“Thanks, Jace,” Alec said. He wished trust was enough to ease the discomfort caused by Verlac’s presence. All he could do for the moment was wait until they had him in custody and question him.

* * *

Chapter 15

Magnus sighed as he closed yet another tome and dropped it on the stack of rejects to one side of the table. That stack was far larger than the remaining books he had left to look through for a solution to Alec’s current predicament. Magnus wasn’t sure he would be able to find anything that would help Alec manage the bond he’d formed with the Angelic Core. It was becoming increasingly clear that the only thing that would actually help was a Wedded Union rune bond.

Which could only be done with another Nephilim.

Which Magnus was not.

The frustration tinged with anger that simmered in the back of his mind surged forward for a moment before Magnus succeeded in pushing it back down. That was not conducive to productive research, and he was trying not to dwell on the fact that Alec had charged ahead into an unknown bond without even consulting him.

He knew that the root of his anger was actually hurt feelings, and he knew he was entitled to those feelings. But they were in a crisis situation, and he didn’t have time to linger on them at present. Magnus also wasn’t entirely sure those feelings should be given voice. The way Alec had described the time leading up to the bonding, the Core had been pulling at him already, at least subconsciously. From everything that Magnus had read, it seemed like the Core had, at one time, been the primary selector of new Heads of Institutes and Conclaves.

If that was the case, then it was possible Alec had not had full control over his actions until the bond had been on the verge of being initiated. He said he remembered very clearly giving permission to proceed, but Magnus had to wonder if he would have been able to decline or if the Core was influencing him subconsciously. Magnus hoped that wasn’t the case, though. From the description of events, Alec had already decided to proceed with the bond when he felt compelled to visit the Core.

At any rate, his search for something that would help ease Alec’s burden of hosting the bond with the Core was not producing results. And Magnus didn’t know what to do with that. Alec would absolutely need to have a Wedded Union bond sooner rather than later. So, despite everything, Magnus was on the verge of losing Alec anyway.

Lost in thought as he was, Magnus still jerked upright when his wards pinged him that a portal was opening in his living room. He pushed away from his table and hurried into the other room where a portal was, indeed, opening.

Dorothea Rollins stepped out and spotted Magnus right away. She hurried over to him, hand extended. “Magnus! I need your help,” she said, eyes wide with urgency.

“My dearest Dorothea, you know I will help you however I can,” Magnus replied, taking her hand in both of his. “Let’s sit and you can tell me what happened.” He was trying to calm her down somewhat, and it seemed to be working as she let him guide her to one of the low sofas in the living room.

Dorothea took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I think Elliot Nourse is dead,” she said, voice quiet.

Magnus frowned, remembering the last time he’d met Elliot in person. It had been several years since he’d seen the other Warlock. “What makes you think that?” he asked, reaching out to take her hand, which was shaking.

Holding out her other arm, Dorothea rotated her wrist so that her forearm was showing. On her skin was an intricate sigil of intersecting lines within a circle.

“This just appeared.” She looked down at the sigil, frowning. “It’s the location of one of the Mortal Instruments. I was there when the original one was created on Elliot. He’s been safe for eighteen years, but now…

“It would only have appeared on my arm if Elliot died,” she said, looking at Magnus with sad eyes.

“Oh, Dorothea,” he said, squeezing the hand he still held. “I haven’t seen Elliot in years, but I always enjoyed speaking with him. His bookstore was doing well, last I heard.”

She nodded, gazing off into the city’s skyline through the balcony doors. Dorothea was silent for a long moment before she looked back to Magnus. “I need to find Jocelyn.”

“She’s working with the New York Institute. Have you tried calling her?” Magnus asked, pulling his own phone from his pocket and bringing up the directory.

Dorothea shook her head. “No, I came straight here. I was worried they’d come for me once the sigil disappeared.”

“Wise, my dear.”

Magnus dialed Jocelyn, and a moment later, she answered. He quickly explained the situation to her and frowned as the call ended.

“Jocelyn requested we meet her in Morningside Park, near the monument in the center in fifteen minutes,” he said, still frowning at the strange request. He’d anticipated that Jocelyn would come to the loft.

Dorothea nodded and lapsed into silence, her thoughts clearly elsewhere as she rubbed at the sigil on her arm. The time passed slowly, though it wasn’t long at all until they were opening a portal and stepping through into the darkness of night in the deserted park.

Jocelyn and Luke were already standing by the monument, talking together softly as Magnus and Dot appeared. Stepping forward, Jocelyn opened her arms to Dorothea and embraced her, hugging tightly as the two greeted each other. Magnus nodded at Luke.

“Thank you for coming,” Jocelyn said as she pulled away and glanced at Magnus.

“Of course. Why here, though?” Magnus asked, looking at the monument they were standing near.

Jocelyn shared a glance with Luke. “This is where Elliot and I hid the Mortal Mirror. The sigil is a ley line map to this location. If something happened to me, I wanted to be sure that the Mirror would be retrievable.”

Magnus blinked at her but, for once, was speechless at her logic. “I see. I assume we’re here to confirm that the mirror has not yet been taken?” he asked quietly.

Jocelyn nodded. “Yes. It’s in a dimensional pocket, just about here,” she said, turning to the monument and waving at a place about waist-high on the statues.

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asked, looking to Dorothea.

She nodded and stepped forward, weaving the magic that would open the small portal into the dimensional pocket where the Mirror had been stored. He could see her shoulder moving like she was patting around, looking for the object within. Finally, she withdrew her hand.

It was empty.

“No…” Jocelyn whispered, dismayed, as she shook her head in denial. “How could he have gotten here so fast? Dot…how long did you wait to contact me?”

Dorothea frowned at her tone. Magnus echoed it.

“I went to Magnus just after the sigil appeared, and he called you a few minutes later. It’s been less than thirty minutes.”

Magnus looked at Jocelyn with his unimpressed face. “It’s entirely possible that they retrieved the Mirror before Elliot passed,” he pointed out. “We don’t know when Elliot was compromised by Valentine, we assume.”

His tone was harder than it normally would have been, but he was not going to stand by while a Shadowhunter with faulty logic capabilities berated one of his Warlocks.

Jocelyn had the decency to at least look mildly contrite as she grimaced. “Of course. I’m sorry. This is…devastating. It means that he has at least two of the Mortal Instruments now.” She sighed. “At least the Cup is safe in Alicante. He can’t get to it there.”

Magnus had his doubts about that but said nothing to Jocelyn. He needed to speak with Alexander. “We should go to the Institute.”

Jocelyn nodded, and Magnus spun up a portal that would allow them to travel there. He took Dorothea’s hand and stepped through after Jocelyn and Luke. The cathedral loomed before them.

This was an added complication they truly didn’t need.

* * *

Imogen Herondale’s heels clicked sharply against the floor as she once more strode through the New York Institute. This time, however, she had a much more pleasurable reason for being here. Behind her, several other Shadowhunters hurried to keep up with her brisk pace.

She had brought them for various reasons. One, to begin the process that would officially declare Jace Wayland a Herondale as he should have always been. Two, to ensure that the appointment of the Head of the Institute was accomplished without issue. And, three, to question the individual known as Jonathan Morgenstern.

The Operations Center was abuzz with activity when she stepped through the archway. It quickly ground to a halt as the Shadowhunters working noticed the Inquisitor’s presence. One that she recognized as Andrew Underhill from previous encounters stepped forward with a polite nod.

“Madam Inquisitor. This is a surprise. We weren’t aware that you planned to visit,” Underhill said.

One delicately arched eyebrow raised as she looked at the man before her. “Is there a problem, Mr. Underhill?”

“Of course not, ma’am. We would have greeted you properly if we’d been made aware of your visit,” the man replied with admirable poise.

“No matter. I am here on official Clave business. I will speak with Jace Wayland in the Head’s office. Send him to me immediately,” she ordered.

Without waiting for a reply, Imogen resumed her previous stride and made her way to the Head’s office. She half expected Lightwood to be sitting behind the desk, but the office was empty, and she wondered where he might be. The conversation she planned to have with that traitors’ son was one she was quite looking forward to.

Making her way further into the office, Imogen glanced around with mild curiosity as she came to a halt in front of the fireplace. Her eyes lingered on the family portraits above the fireplace, and her lip curled slightly in disdain.

These photos would soon be replaced by Herondales if she had any say in the matter.

A moment later, a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. It swung open before she could call out, and she watched as her long-lost grandson entered the room.

“Inquisitor, you asked to see me?” Jace said, eyes searching hers with a serious expression.

Now that she was face to face with him, it startled her how much of his father, her Stephen, showed in his features. How had she missed the likeness in the past?

“Jace,” she said, her voice breaking slightly on the word. The boy looked startled, but she carried on before he could say anything. “It has come to my attention that my grandson, who we thought lost to us with his parents before his birth, is actually alive and quite well.”

Jace’s forehead creased in confusion, and she stepped closer to him, a small smile on her face, now.

“In fact, he’s one of our best and brightest. One of the best warriors of his generation,” she continued, taking another step closer.

“I don’t understand,” Jace murmured. He was frowning more heavily, obviously trying to figure out why she was telling him of her family. “Is he in New York?”

Imogen nodded. “He is.” She paused a moment, looking at him expectantly. “In fact, he’s in this very room,” she said, smiling more broadly at the boy in front of her.

“I…What?” Jace gasped out, confusion the dominant emotion crossing his face. “I’m your grandson? How is that possible?”

Imogen, still smiling, reached out to gently take Jace’s hand. “I don’t know how it happened, my boy, but someone stole you from your mother when you were still in the womb.” As she spoke, the smile fell from her face, images of her son and his wife’s death passing through her mind. “If Michael Wayland were still alive, we would be able to ask him how he ended up with you.”

Jace shook his head again. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand. How do you even know I’m your grandson?”

“You have a unique birthmark on your shoulder, do you not?” she asked, reaching for the folio she’d brought with her. She flipped it open, showing him a close-up from a photograph of the mark on his back.

Frowning, Jace took the photo. “Why do you have a picture of my back?” he asked.

“This is a photo of my son’s birthmark. It’s a Herondale birthmark that appeared in our family generations ago. It appears on the shoulder of all male descendants of William Herondale, who lived in the late 19th century,” she said, watching Jace as he took this information in.

“It’s exactly like mine,” he murmured, tracing the mark lightly. “But…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“I know this is overwhelming. Believe me, when I saw you training, I, too, felt overwhelmed when I noticed the mark on your shoulder.” Imogen took a deep breath, feeling on the verge of tears of happiness. “I thought the Herondale name ended with my Stephen. But here you are.”

Jace looked at her, still clearly overwhelmed and shocked at the news that he was part of such an old family.

“I’ve brought someone with us who will, of course, do all of the genetic testing to confirm our relationship. Once the official results have come back, we will get everything updated.”

“Ah,” he said. “All right. We should definitely do that, just to confirm that this isn’t some crazy coincidence.”

Imogen smiled at her grandson. “There is no coincidence here, my boy. I know in my heart that you’re my grandson, and this birthmark has already confirmed it for me. The tests are just a formality. As far as I’m concerned, you are Jonathan Christopher Herondale.”

Jace sucked in a breath at that and blinked at her but didn’t say anything further.

She decided to let him have some time to come to terms with this revelation and moved on to the next topic that she needed to discuss.

“Now, that’s not the only reason I’m here,” she started. “I’m here on behalf of the Clave to name the new Heads of this Institute. “

“Oh! Great! Let me go track down Alec,” Jace said and started to back away.

Imogen reached out and gripped his elbow to halt him. “That won’t be necessary, Jace. You are being named the Head of the New York Institute. Lydia Branwell will serve as Acting Co-Head until you marry, at which point, your wife will be named Co-Head.”

Jace’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at her with what she thought was excitement. “But…Alec. He’s been training for this practically his whole life. He’s a natural leader. It should be him,” he protested.

“Be that as it may, I will be naming you Head of this Institute. Now,” she said briskly. “Let’s see about the testing, and then I will make the announcement.”

She hustled him out the door, not giving him much chance to say anything further.

* * *

“So, Herondale and Head of the Institute?” Izzy asked, standing at the center console with her arms crossed over her chest. She was definitely not amused.

Alec looked between her and Jace, eyebrow quirked, as they waited for a response. He still didn’t know quite what to make of the Inquisitor’s announcement, except that it had been a bit of a gut punch to lose leadership of the Institute to his brother, a man who’d never given any indication that he even wanted it.

“It’s just as much of a shock to me, guys,” Jace said.

To be fair, he did have a kind of shell-shocked, deer-in-the-headlights look about him. “When did you find out?” Alec asked.

Jace shook his head. “Literally right before she made the announcement. I haven’t even had time to digest the Herondale part of the whole thing. She just swanned in, dumped the family relationship on me, made the announcement, and left. Apparently, she wants me to join her in Alicante for dinner soon, but that was it.”

Looking at Alec, his face took on a pained expression. “I tried to tell her it should be you, Alec. I don’t want this,” he said.

Alec felt the tension he’d been holding start to ease slightly at that. He knew his brother, regardless of whatever his true heritage was. The bond he had with the Core was pulsing in his head, giving him a slight headache, and had been since the Inquisitor had made her announcement. They hadn’t shared the information about the bond with the Council yet, either. Once they made that known, there was little the Clave could actually do about him being Head of the Institute without his willingness, along with that of the Core and the rest of the Conclave, to unseat him.

“I know, Jace. It’s OK. We’ll deal with it later,” Alec said, glancing around the table. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about just now.”

Magnus pressed a hand to Alec’s lower back briefly as he joined them at the table. For a moment, all Alec wanted to do was lean into his lover, but he knew he needed to hold himself together for a while longer, yet. The last day had been more chaotic than he’d expected, though he wasn’t sure why he’d thought it would be anything less than it was.

“Valentine likely has the Mortal Mirror,” he said, the words dropping like a bomb on the assembled group. Everyone gathered around the table gaped at him, and some of the Shadowhunters standing at their stations stopped what they were doing to look in his direction.

“What?” Lydia breathed.

Magnus nodded next to him. “My long-time friend, Dorothea, came to me earlier when a sigil appeared on her wrist. Another Warlock died, causing the sigil to jump to her.” He paused, then looked to Jocelyn briefly as he did. Alec had already gotten an earful about his thoughts on Jocelyn’s logic abilities. “The sigil was a map of the ley lines leading to the location of the Mortal Mirror, which was hidden in a dimensional pocket nearly twenty years ago.”

“We may have a lead for Valentine’s location, now, at least,” Alec said. “He’s holding the Angel Ithuriel captive in one of the estates near Lake Lyn in Alicante. We have reason to believe it may be the old Wayland estate.”

Lydia frowned, shaking her head. She looked at Jace. “I thought that was abandoned after…” she trailed off. “How did you end up with Michael Wayland?”

Jace just shrugged, and Lydia shook her head again before refocusing on Alec. “So, we’ll put together a team to go check it out?” she asked, still deferring to him as Head, despite Jace’s promotion.

“Yeah. From what we know, there are likely at least twenty Shadowhunters on the grounds. At least, we assume,” he added. Alec didn’t know how accurate the vision he’d received was if it was current or outdated.

It only took them a few minutes to form the reconnaissance team that would portal to Idris to check out the estate. Magnus would be able to keep them from being detected right away, depending on what wards had been erected by Valentine’s captive Warlocks. Lydia opted to stay behind to keep things running at the Institute. With very little fuss, the group was on its way.

* * *

The portal deposited them just outside the manor’s gates in Idris.

Alec staggered slightly after he made it through the portal. While portal travel was usually a little jarring, it was mostly because the connection he felt in the back of his mind had grown stronger when he landed. He stepped to the side away from the portal and closed his eyes, trying to recenter himself. At least they knew the angel was still here…

They were exactly the gates that Alec had seen in the vision that Ithuriel had shared with him. It was definitely the Wayland manor, and, by the expression on Jace’s face, he wasn’t surprised.

Alec looked to Magnus and nodded. The Warlock stepped closer to the gates, and blue light shone around his hands as he began examining the wards. A moment later, he stepped back and pushed the gate open.

“That was fast,” Alec said, looking at him.

Magnus shook his head. “The wards had a gap in them large enough to drive a truck through. Whoever set these up clearly didn’t want to.”

“A captive Warlock?” Alec asked, and Magnus nodded slowly, his face showing his concern.

“Let’s get moving,” Jace said, leading the way as he crept through the gates. Knowing the estate the best, Jace edged around the side of the house, incapacitating the patrol they found there before leading them to a door.

Alec had gone right through the front door during the vision, so he didn’t know where this door actually led or what they would find on the other side of it. They knew the angel was in the basement, though, and hopefully, Jace would be able to bypass most of the Shadowhunters that were present.

Easing the door open, Jace looked in and then backed out with as much quiet as he had made entry. “There are only two inside. Good angles from here,” he said to Alec as he moved away from the door.

Alec nodded and stepped up, pulling the small gun from his hip. While his preferred weapon against demons was his bow, sedative darts worked best on humans, Nephilim, and most Downworlders. The door was still open partially, and Alec eased it just enough to get the tip of the gun through the crack. He could see both and quickly lined up a shot with the one nearest the door leading away from the kitchen.

With two quick shots, both Shadowhunters were out of commission and lying unconscious on the floor. The fast-acting sedative had felled the second one before he could make anything more than the slightest noise.

Alec was honestly more worried about the solid thumps made by their bodies as they’d fallen to the floor. He waited, but when nothing was forthcoming indicating alarm, Alec pushed the door open and stepped into the room, still cautiously and with the dart gun still ready to aim if needed.

The door leading to the basement was in this room, and Jace moved around Alec to open it as the rest of them kept watch. Once everyone was in the kitchen, and the side door closed, Jace opened the basement door and listened intently for any sound from below. He shook his head at Alec and pulled the door open further to step onto the stairs. Jocelyn and Luke stayed at the top of the stairs, one peeking out the back door and the other watching for signs of anyone inside the house coming their way.

As Alec crept lightly down the stairs, the feeling of the bond at the back of his mind grew stronger. It had been growing with each step he took that brought him closer to the angel’s location. Finally, he reached the bottom of the stairs and looked at the angel chained to the center of the room. Alec could see a faint golden aura around the angel, and, for a moment, it reminded him of the aura he’d seen around Clary and Jace in the original vision. When he glanced at his brother, he again saw that same aura and wondered what connection he could possibly have with Ithuriel.

“Ithuriel,” Alec whispered, stepping closer to the angel lying on the cold cement floor. He was ancient and haggard-looking, misery etched on his face. Alec couldn’t believe a Shadowhunter had done this to a being they were supposed to view as sacred.

Ithuriel looked at him, and, as their eyes met, Alec crashed to his knees. His vision was subsumed as Ithuriel shared what he wanted to with Alec.

A man, one that Alec recognized as the currently sitting Consul, Malachi Dieudonne, was opening a safe with his stele. The door popped open to reveal the Mortal Cup, sitting where it had been secured after Jocelyn had turned it over to the Clave. He reached in and pulled the Cup out, looking at it with reverence for a moment, before he turned to the table sitting next to him. A small box was atop it, and he opened it, pulling out another cup…the same replica that Hodge had passed off to Valentine. With quick movements, Dieudonne placed the replica in the safe and laid the real Cup in the box. He quickly closed both and hurried away from the safe.

The next image was of Valentine standing in front of a vat of blood. This time, though, when he dipped the Cup into the liquid, it purified, turning into crystal clear water. The satisfied expression on Valentine’s face made it obvious that his plan had finally succeed and he would be able to create more Shadowhunters loyal to himself.

The images changed again, this time showing a warlock opening a rift to the hell planes and calling forth demon swarms. Valentine stood before them, Cup held aloft. They charged away after Valentine spoke, though there was no sound in the vision. The New York Institute appeared and Alec saw the swarms growing closer to the building and preparing to attack.

An image of Alicante as from a distance appeared, demon towers glowing brightly in protection. As he watched, they darkened, one by one, until they were all out, leaving Alicante open to demon attack.

Finally, the last image he saw was of himself and Ithuriel in their current state. Alec drew a rune over the chains binding Ithuriel and they slithered away as they unlocked.

When Alec came back to himself, he could tell only a moment had passed. No one else looked surprised by how long he’d been still. Shaking himself from the vision, Alec leaned forward and drew the rune he’d seen on Ithuriel’s chains. They slithered away and the Angel stood, the golden glow surrounding him brightened immeasurably as they watched until they were forced to shield their eyes.

When they looked back, the angel was gone.

“Valentine has the Cup,” Alec said, looking at the group. “He has all the Mortal Instruments.”

* * *

Chapter 16

A quick fire message to the Gard had the Wayland manor swarming with Shadowhunters. Ithuriel’s departure had alerted the Circle members still present on the estate, and the team from New York had to fight their way out. Alec had no way to explain how they’d known to visit the estate, so they were vague and said they’d had an anonymous tip that Jace’s supposedly abandoned family estate was pretty active.

By the time everything was said and done, Jace had been called to Alicante to explain his leadership choices, while Alec had sent Magnus, Luke, and Jocelyn back to New York before backup arrived to avoid any other awkward questions. They’d debated, very briefly, what to do about Consul Dieudonne. Without any actual evidence, they were treading a very thin line. They couldn’t accuse him without proof unless they wanted to end up in more trouble than they were currently. Though no one was happy with the situation, it was decided to leave it be for the moment. They could retreat to New York, continue looking for Valentine, and develop a plan to deal with the Consul. For the moment, they were stuck holding their knowledge close to the chest.

Finally, after Jace had answered the Council’s questions to their satisfaction, Jace and Alec had returned to New York via the permanent portal.

They walked into a siege.

Alec felt a surge of pressure from or against the bond; he couldn’t be entirely sure which it was. Ithuriel’s vision was playing out before his eyes. On the monitors in Operations, they watched as the Institute was surrounded by various types of demons relentlessly attacking the building’s wards, trying to break through. Alec moved quickly to Magnus’ side, resting his hand against the small Magnus’ back.

“How long do you think the wards will hold?” he asked, voice tight with tension.

Magnus glanced at him before shaking his head. “I don’t know. My reinforcements after the Forsaken attacked are holding strong. It’s lucky I was able to renew them so recently. Otherwise, they’d have already broken through.” Magnus frowned at the monitor, obviously concerned.

“Any sign of Valentine?” Alec asked.

“Not yet,” Izzy said, flipping through various views of the area around the Institute. “He’s probably waiting to show until they break through the wards.”

“Why is he even attacking?” Clary asked. Her brow was furrowed with concern and a bit of fear.

“Jonathan,” Jocelyn murmured. “He’s here for Jonathan.”

The conversation continued around him, but Alec’s attention was pulled to the bond. It was tugging at him more insistently than ever, and, now that Alec knew what was happening to the Institute, he could give it his attention.

He tapped into the bond and let it flood through him. Acting primarily on instinct, Alec walked over to the exterior wall and placed his hand against the wall. The power that surged through him made his knees buckle, and Alec dropped to the ground with a thud. He was subsumed in the wave of golden energy as it poured into the wards, riding along the web of electric blue strands of Magnus’ magic, twining around them like a creeping vine. Alec knew the Angelic Core was working through him and the bond to reinforce the wards. Hopefully, it would help them hold out a bit longer.

Finally, the bond eased back. Alec felt a sense of satisfaction from the bond as it faded. He’d been getting more feedback from the bond as time passed, and he wondered if it would keep changing and growing. It was becoming increasingly difficult to separate all the bond’s feedback from his sense of self.

The room swam around him, and Alec leaned forward to rest his forehead against the wall. He felt utterly drained now and couldn’t seem to hold himself up. Slowly, he sank down further. He’d felt the bond recede somewhat after letting it reinforce the wards, so he didn’t fully understand why he felt like the bond was still sapping everything from him.

“Alexander, are you all right?” Magnus asked, dropping down next to him.

Alec shook his head. “I don’t know,” was all he managed before it became obvious that he wasn’t. His vision narrowed to a fine point, and he wondered what was happening moments before everything went black.

* * *

Magnus reached out, catching Alexander as he slumped to the floor. Isabelle was at his side moments later as Magnus let his magic flow over Alexander, attempting to see what had happened.

“Magnus! What happened?” she asked.

Magnus shook his head. “I’m not entirely sure. I think he used the bond to reinforce the wards. That’s what it looks like, anyway. But he pulled too much, and it’s drained all of his energy reserves.”

He pulled in a relieved breath as he cradled his unconscious love in his lap. Looking at Isabelle, a soft smile tugged at his lips. “He’ll be fine. He’s just exhausted.”

Jace appeared, then, hovering over them. “This is not the best time for Alec to take a nap,” Jace said. “Is there anything you can do to get him back on his feet?”

Magnus nodded, already casting healing magic on Alexander. “This will help replenish him for the short-term, but he really does need natural rest to recuperate fully.”

He paused, letting the magic continue to flow as a thought struck him. “This may be one of the side-effects of carrying the bond by himself, though. We don’t know enough about it to say for sure.”

“Well,” Jace began, “do what you can for now, and we’ll figure everything out as soon as this current crisis is over.”

Magnus nodded and finished casting. Alexander began to stir, finally showing his beautiful hazel eyes again.

Alexander looked up at Magnus with a small smile. “Hi,” he said.

Magnus grinned a little at him as Alexander finally realized where they were. The tips of his ears burned a bright red as he blushed in embarrassment, and Magnus knew it was because he was waking up on the floor draped over his boyfriend’s lap. Running a hand through Alexander’s hair, Magnus helped him sit up.

“Are you feeling all right now, darling?” he asked.

Alec hesitated before answering. “I feel like I need to sleep for a week. But otherwise? I’m OK. How long was I out?” he asked.

Magnus shook his head. “Only moments, darling. I was able to give you a boost and take the edge off the depletion, but we have a lot of research to do when we get through this current mess.”

“Sir,” Andrew Underhill called. “More demons are closing in on our perimeter.”

Alec frowned and looked at Magnus and Jace. “Even with whatever the bond did, the wards are not going to last forever. We need to plan for a breach.”

Jace nodded. “Agreed. They’ll overwhelm us quickly. But we can set up choke-points to limit how many can come through. We need to avoid fighting in the open as much as possible.”

He turned to the central table and brought up a map of the building’s interior. “We’ll set up teams here, here, and here,” he said, and red dots lit up in the locations he’d tapped.

Andrew nodded. “I’ll start mobilizing people to those locations.

“The longer we keep them bottlenecked, the better,” Alec agreed. “We can pick them off one at a time as they come through.”

“Now we just have to wait,” Jace said. From his tone, Magnus knew he would find the waiting to be the most challenging part.

* * *

The wait dragged on interminably. Alec felt his strength being sapped away with each moment that passed. He would be useless in a close combat fight, he realized. The last hour had been spent gathering every arrow he could find and preparing multiple quivers. Taking them out from a distance would increase the amount of time he was able to fight, but not by enough.

He had to figure something out. There had to be some way to stabilize his bond with the Core. Otherwise, he would be too worn down to contribute anything to the fight. Alec would become more of a liability than anything else, and there was no way he wanted that.

Finally, Andrew called out what they’d all been waiting for. “Stand ready, Shadowhunters! Demons have breached the perimeter wards.”

A subtle red light strobed in the background. Alec was glad there was no noise to go with the light. It would have been obnoxious when they were already so on edge.

He reached out for Magnus’ hand, gripping it tightly before pulling him into a kiss, hard and fast. “Live,” he said, heart heavy with everything that could go wrong.

“Same to you, darling,” Magnus said.

With one last kiss, they pulled apart, each going to where their skills would be put to best use. Grabbing his quivers, Alec took off for the perch he’d chosen. He watched as others took to the stations they’d been assigned. Most of the people in Ops were the second line of defense for whatever got past the first point. Lifting the bow that had served him well for so long, Alec took aim and waited. It didn’t take long for the first demons to show up.

The fight was begun.

* * *

Clary dashed around a corner and into a solid wall.

She’d been told to stay in the infirmary and help out with the wounded as they came in. As hands tightened around her arms, Clary wished she’d obeyed those orders instead of trying to find a place she could be useful.

Her efforts to help had seen her quickly overwhelmed by a horde of demons that had gotten past the bottleneck. Clary’s only choice, then, had been to run. Thankfully, the demons had been less interested in a single Shadowhunter than they were in getting deeper into the building.

Her gaze traveled up, and she saw that her luck had well and truly deserted her. The man who had provided the other half of her DNA held her arms. Clary’s heart stuttered in her chest.

“Clarissa, my dear child. It’s so very nice to meet you at last,” Valentine said. His voice made her skin crawl. There was something oily about it.

“I can’t say the same,” Clary replied.

All her life, she’d desperately wished to know her father, the man who’d died when she was a child. She’d been heartbroken when she’d found out her father was still alive and the current bane of the Shadow Worlds’ existence. How could she have come from a man with genocidal tendencies?

Valentine smiled indulgently at her. “All the lies you’ve been fed…Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll get your brother out of here and have a lovely family reunion. Just the three of us. Your mother will eventually come around, and we’ll have our full family finally back together.”

Clary realized he truly was delusional.

He moved his hand to grip her elbow. “Come along, Clarissa. We need to get your brother.”

With that, he pulled her along the hallway, leading her to the nearest elevator that would take them down to the detention level.

“Why would you think I want anything to do with you or your son?” she spat, struggling to get away. “You’re both monsters!”

Again, Valentine just smiled at her, but this time it had a more sinister edge. “You’ll learn the truth in time, Clarissa.”

The elevator stopped, and Valentine’s goons led the way, killing the few guards they encountered. Clary recognized each of them from the brief time she’d been at the New York Institute, and her heart hurt for their families. Valentine was only proving to her how monstrous he really was.

The cells were ahead of them. Only one was occupied. Jonathan stood, smiling with his stolen face as they drew closer. “Father,” he said in greeting. “And sister! How nice to see you again. I had hoped you’d come to visit me like our dear mother, but you didn’t. I suppose late is better than never, though.”

The door was quickly unlocked, and Jonathan stepped out of the cell.

Valentine reached out with his other hand, clapping his son on the shoulder. “Jonathan,” he said. “I’m glad to see you’re well.”

“Thank you, Father,” Jonathan said with a nod to Valentine. “Shall we leave? I’ve been here quite long enough, and I believe we have other matters to finalize.”

“Absolutely right,” Valentine said, grinning at his son.

The emotion didn’t quite reach his eyes, though, and Clary wondered how he felt about his son, her brother, that he had injected with demonic blood while still in the womb. How was this the family she’d come from?

Valentine was still holding her arm, and he pulled her along as they left. They’d lapsed into silence, and the Shadowhunters loyal to Valentine led the way back to the elevator. No one else had ventured down, Clary realized. The jail break would be completed without anyone the wiser.

The elevator ride back up was quiet and tense. At least, Clary was tense. She eased away from Valentine as much as she could with her limited range of motion. His grip was like iron around her arm, and there was only so far she could edge away before he squeezed tighter in warning. The elevator stopped at the floor Valentine had ordered, and the goons left first again, though there was no one in the hallway this time.

They turned a corner, and Clary gasped. Her mother stood before them, seraph blade up and at the ready. She was alone, and for a moment, Clary wondered what the hell she thought she was going to do against a group full of armed Shadowhunters.

“Jocelyn,” Valentine whispered. Clary glanced at him in disbelief. That had been the most honest emotion other than bigotry and hatred that she’d heard from him. And it was towards her mother. Some part of him loved her, Clary realized. At least, he thought he loved Jocelyn.

“Valentine. Let Clary go,” Jocelyn said, bravado in her voice.

“I’m sorry, Jocelyn, but I won’t be doing that. She has a greater part to play than you realize.”

Jonathan stepped forward, pushing past his father’s men to stand before the woman who had given birth to him and then abandoned him. “Mother,” he said.

Clary couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was completely neutral as he stared at Jocelyn.

“Jonathan,” Jocelyn started. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to work with him. He’s wrong about it all!”

Now, Jonathan shook his head, gaze still fixed on Jocelyn. “That’s where you’re wrong. I owe him everything,” Jonathan said. “What would have become of me without him?”

Jocelyn shook her head. “No! It’s his fault you’re the way you are. He made you into this when he gave you demon blood!”

Oh, mom, Clary thought as her eyes closed. Her mother was just as short-sighted as Valentine was, albeit in a slightly different way.

“You’re right on that. I am the man I’ve become, thanks to my father. He loves me because of my gifts, unlike you, who abandoned me at the first sign that I was different.” Jonathan shook his head and scoffed in disgust. “You abandoned me as a baby, and you never looked back.”

“My son,” Valentine said, and his other hand landed with a gentle squeeze on Jonathan’s shoulder. “You may continue to discuss this with your mother if you’d like, but I need to finish what we came here for. Join us when you’re through,” he said.

Clary was moved along the hallway. Valentine skirted past Jocelyn with barely a second glance. Her mother’s movement towards them was halted abruptly by the guards surrounding them.

“It’s been so lovely to see you again, Jocelyn. Have a nice chat with our son. He’s very…special,” Valentine said, and his voice carried some extra meaning that Clary heard but didn’t fully understand. His smirk again made her skin crawl, and she wondered what his plans truly were.

Their pace picked up as they moved further down the hall. Clary hadn’t been into this part of the Institute before, so she had no idea what was down there. Obviously, Valentine knew exactly where he was going.

She was shoved towards a set of doors that the guards opened as they drew near. The light emanating from within the room was bright white, and Clary winced as the glare filled her vision. She realized, suddenly, where they were. The Angelic Core was before them.

“Here we are,” Valentine said and passed Clary over to one of the guards who gripped her other arm tightly.

Walking towards the console in front of the containment room, Valentine pulled the sword from the sheath draped over his shoulder.

The Soul Sword.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out what his plans were. Another one of the guards had stepped forward, kneeling next to the console. He dragged a pack from his shoulders and pulled out a device from within that he set on the floor. There was a cable next that he plugged into the box and then into a receptacle on the console.

Valentine stepped forward, holding the Sword aloft as if in offering to the Angelic Core. He looked almost reverent as he moved. “It’s time to fulfill the promise Raziel made when he gifted our people with this Sword. We will activate the protections embedded within it and clean the filth from our lands.”

With that, he released the Sword’s blade from his hand, letting it swing down until it was pointed towards the floor. The device that the guard had set up had what looked like a slot in the top, one just large enough for the blade of the Sword to fit into. Valentine plugged the Sword into the device and stepped back. He gestured to the guard holding Clary, and they moved forward.

“Now, Clarissa, it’s your turn. Your pure angel blood will be the conduit that activates the Sword’s true power,” Valentine said.

Clary struggled to hold back the hysterical laugh that wanted to bubble out of her. His villain speeches needed some work. She shook her head at him instead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have pure angel blood,” she said. “How could I?”

“Jonathan wasn’t my only project.”

Her eyes widened. “What?” she breathed. He’d experimented on her, too?

Valentine smiled at her, and she thought he might have been aiming for fatherly. Her thoughts flashed to Luke, who was the only father she ever planned to acknowledge, and she wondered if she should tell him how far he’d missed the mark. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll see soon.”

He nodded at the Sword. “Just reach out and grasp the hilt. The rest will follow naturally.”

Clary shook her head. There was no way she was touching that Sword under her own willpower. “I won’t do it!” she shouted.

Valentine smiled at her again. “I’ll help you,” he said and reached for her arm.

She tried to keep him from taking her hand, but he was stronger. If she made it out of this, Clary would not let herself fall into this situation again. She’d train every day, twice as hard as she had been, if only so she could defend herself and actually fight.

He finally managed to pry her fingers out from the tight fist she’d had them in and pushed her palm to the hilt of the Sword.

As soon as it connected, a surge of power swept through Clary’s body. It coursed from where her hand connected to the Sword, up her arm, and then across the rest of her without stopping. Her skin glowed golden from the inside, and she could see the fine web-like path the power was taking as it moved through her. The surge swept back the way it had come, and the cycle repeated as she stood there.

Runes on the Sword lit golden. Light poured from the Sword, and the Core pulsed in time with Clary’s heartbeat.

But nothing else happened.

Finally, the light coming from the Sword dimmed, and the runes went dormant once more. The power was still humming through Clary’s body, but it had mostly subsided when the Sword went calm. The power felt like it was hers to use, now, instead of being channeled into the Sword.

Valentine frowned as he looked between her, the Sword, and the Core. “How is this possible?” he whispered. “This should have worked!”

He stepped forward, hand outstretched to take the Sword by the hilt, and Clary made her move.

Her elbow flashed back, and a loud crunch sounded through the room as the guard standing behind her crumpled to the floor. Blood poured from his ruined nose. Clary didn’t wait to see what happened to him and swung the sword up in an arc that slashed at Valentine and the other guard that was getting closer to where she was.

“Stay back!” she yelled.

One of the guards chose to ignore her, and Clary let the training she’d received with a seraph blade come into play. The Sword was much heavier than the seraph blades she’d trained with, but the extra power from the Core propelled the Sword. She slashed at the guard, and the blade sang through the air, each swipe from the guard blocked with parry and countered with a riposte.

The guard she was fighting soon joined the other, bleeding on the floor at her feet.

It was just a shame she hadn’t gotten to fending off multiple attackers in her training yet.

The other two guards had moved behind her while she’d fought. Clary had no idea how to defend herself against so many attackers, and they quickly overwhelmed her.

The sword clattered to the ground as they grabbed her arms, holding them tightly.

Valentine stooped to pick up the Sword. He shook his head as he looked at Clary. “Your mother did you a disservice. If you’d been raised properly, you’d have had all the skills needed to take on all of my guards. Instead, you’re so far behind,” he said, genuine disappointment on his face. “Never fear, though. I’ll make sure you have all the training you need to be an asset to our family.”

He nodded at the guards holding her and turned to leave the room. “Come along. We will find another source to power this Sword.”

* * *

Chapter 17

Jace heard the clanging of seraph blades as he ran through the corridors. He’d gone back to his room after hearing that demons had overrun that part of the Institute, his thoughts only on Clary and what might have happened if she’d been forced to face an invading group of demons on her own. It would be too much for any solo Shadowhunter, let alone one with so little formal training.

The clash of the blades was getting closer, and he put on a burst of speed as he heard one start to falter. They were just ahead, and he stumbled going around the corner, reaching out to steady himself on the wall as he ground to a halt.

Jocelyn was lying weaponless on the floor of the hall, her blade feet from her hands.

Jonathan was looming over her, his own blade poised to strike at the fallen woman.

“Jonathan,” Jocelyn said, her head shaking as she looked up at the man that was her son. “I’m sorry I left you. But I had no choice.”

Scoffing, Jonathan took another step toward her. “There’s always a choice. You made yours.” He pulled the blade back further, and Jace recognized the action for the preparation it was. “And now I’m making mine.”

Without stopping to think, Jace darted forward, his blade plunging through Jonathan’s back as he reached with the other hand to grab the arm holding a weapon.

Jonathan’s seraph blade clattered to the floor as the shock of being impaled hit him. The sound that came from Jonathan was one that Jace was sure would follow him. He didn’t kill humans often enough to be inured to the realities of taking a life. The demons that were his normal targets just dispersed into a cloud of ichor. But this was a person, who was now sliding off the end of Jace’s blade and collapsing to the floor.

“No…” Jocelyn whispered, surging forward to grab Jonathan as he fell. “Oh, Jonathan.”

There were tears in the other woman’s eyes, spilling over to trickle down her cheeks as she lifted a hand to push her son’s hair away from his forehead.

Jace watched the scene with a sort of numb shock. No matter what he’d done, Jace realized he’d just killed Clary’s brother to save her mother’s life. He blinked slowly, feeling guilty despite knowing that, if she had to choose, he knew Clary would have preferred to save the only parent she’d ever known over a brother with psychopathic tendencies. Valentine had twisted him from before he’d even drawn his first breath, and then he’d continued to twist him after he’d been born. His upbringing would always guide him towards the worst possible outcomes, but he was still her son.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Jocelyn was murmuring, still touching Jonathan’s face with gentle hands. “I never should have left you behind. I’m so sorry.” She leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her son’s forehead.

“Mom,” Jonathan gasped, grasping her wrist with his hand. “Mom..”

“You are my son, and I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I always will,” Jocelyn continued.

Jace watched as Jonathan stared up at his mother. He had the faintest of smile’s on his face as the light faded from his eyes.

“Jonathan, my boy,” Jocelyn sobbed. “Ave atque vale, my son.”

Despite knowing what Jonathan had been capable of, Jace still felt his heart go out to the mother holding her son’s body on the floor. He couldn’t imagine leaving a child behind, and he honestly didn’t know how Jocelyn had been able to do so. Regardless of her choices, though, he would always be her child, and she would have to live with the regret and the weight of unrealized possibilities.

Now, though, she slowly lowered Jonathan’s body to the floor, closing his eyes with a gentle hand before looking up at Jace. Blood had covered her clothes from where she’d held onto Jonathan, but she didn’t seem to notice as she struggled to her feet. Jace reached out to her with a hand, helping her up off the ground as she collected herself. He grabbed her seraph blade and Jonathan’s from the floor and handed one to her.

“We need to go,” Jocelyn said. “Valentine has Clary.”

“What?” Jace barked. “How…which way?” He shook his head and looked around as if the corridor would give him some clues about where the man had taken his girlfriend. While Jocelyn had every right to say goodbye to her dying son, her living daughter was in very real danger.

“They went this way. I believe he was on his way to the Core,” Jocelyn said and took off at a jog down the hall towards the Core room.

As they reached the doors, they slid open to reveal Valentine, with Clary held by two guards behind him.

Jocelyn and Jace charged at them, using the element of surprise to their advantage. Jace drove his seraph blade, still covered in Jonathan’s blood, at Valentine, forcing him to jump to the side to avoid the same fate as his son. Jocelyn ran towards Clary and slashed at one of the guards while the other pulled Clary away. Her struggles were finally successful, and she managed to dislodge her captor’s arm.

Jace had no concentration to spare for the two women, though. All of his focus was taken up by Valentine as their blades met. Valentine had once been considered the best fighter of his generation, just as Jace was considered so for his generation.

Jace had the advantage of youth on his side, but Valentine’s vast experience made him a formidable opponent, one that challenged Jace on a level he hadn’t yet encountered. A distant part of Jace’s mind wondered what it might have been like to spar with the man. How much could he have learned from him? Just another loss to the Shadowhunter community to lay at Valentine’s feet.

“My other Jonathan. You have talent, but you’ll never be as good as you could have been if you’d remained under my guidance,” Valentine said, stepping in to aim a swipe at Jace’s under-protected left side.

“What are you talking about?” he panted, blocking another slash from the rogue Shadowhunter.

“You knew me better as ‘father’ when we were both Waylands.”

Jace stumbled, crashing to his knees as he lost his footing. He barely managed to block Valentine’s attack as he scrambled back to his feet. Whatever Valentine was talking about, it was surely a ploy to distract him from the fight at hand, and Jace refocused his attention on attacking Valentine. They fought in furious silence for some time. Jace could feel the exhaustion building in his body.

With one final glance over his shoulder, Jace saw Valentine decide a moment before the feint of his blade to one side worked, and he left his front open. Valentine’s fist impacted with his face with so much force that the room spun wildly, and Jace fell to the ground. He landed hard but had enough sense to roll quickly away from where he’d dropped.

He felt more than saw someone barrel past him and into Valentine, knocking the man into the wall with a resounding thud.

“Our son is dead because of you!” Jocelyn shrieked. “You did this! All of this is your fault!”

“What?” he heard Valentine gasp.

Jace’s senses were still reeling from the blow, and he flinched back when someone dropped down next to him. Footsteps pounded down the hall, and Jace saw, though everything was spinning dizzily, Valentine running back the way he and Jocelyn had come from. Next t0 him, Jocelyn struggled back to her feet and dashed off down the hallway after the man she’d married.

“Mom! Jace!” Clary yelled as she dropped to her knees next to Jace and reached out to touch his face gently.

“Valentine?” he asked, panting as he squeezed his eyes shut to try to get the room to stop its incessant motion.

“He got away. Mom’s chasing him.”

“He could have killed me,” Jace murmured, leaning his head forward to rest on Clary’s thigh. Her hands ran gently through his hair, and the two points of contact gave him something to try to center his focus on.

“Mom and I took out his last two thugs,” Clary said. “He had no support and would have had to take on all three of us.” She scoffed. “Not that I’m much of a challenge.”

“You held your own,” Jace said. “And you just started your training. You’ll get even better with time.”

They lapsed into silence for several minutes, and Jace closed his eyes against the room’s spinning. It was somewhat better as long as he held still and focused on Clary. Pain blossomed from each of the points he’d taken a blow during his fight with Valentine and the demons he’d encountered before checking on Clary. The longer he lay still, the worse it would get, and he forced himself to start moving again.

Jocelyn was jogging back towards them as he slowly rolled onto his back. “I think I might have to find someone more challenging to train with. Valentine is too good.”

“He’s always been that way,” Jocelyn said, breath heavy as she slid down the wall next to them. “And it went to his head. He was put on a pedestal too young, what with all that crap about being the best fighter of his generation.” She shook her head, still not looking at the two younger Shadowhunters next to her.

“More than anything, I think that contributed to his obstinate and bigoted stance against Downworlders. He had so many people telling him how great he was that, at some point, he decided every thought he had must be great, as well. It was infuriating, after a while,” Jocelyn said, murmuring the last.

“What happened to Valentine, mom?” Clary asked.

Jace struggled to pull himself upright. The room needed to stop moving very soon. Behind him, Clary moved closer as she offered support to his back. Jace leaned against her gratefully and closed his eyes again to absorb the warmth of her presence.

“I lost him,” was all Jocelyn said.

Jace looked at her through the small slits he allowed his eyes to open. He didn’t know what to make of the older woman. She was Clary’s mother, but she’d also been Valentine’s wife. He assumed they were still married. When would they have gotten divorced?

Was part of her still loyal to the man, despite what she had to say about his rhetoric?

“Come on. We should get back to Ops,” Jace said and began the arduous process of standing.

Clary jumped up, pushing under his arm to support him. It was nice having her so close, so he didn’t protest the move. Jocelyn pulled herself to her feet, and they walked back down the hallway towards where they’d left Jonathan’s body.

It only took them a few moments to make the walk back. Jonathan’s body was where they left it, and Jace decided that he would stay there until the corpse was collected.

“Change of plans,” he said as he pulled his arm from over Clary’s shoulders. “I’m going to stay here while you two go to Ops and let them know what happened.”

Clary frowned at him. “Why?” She looked down at her brother’s dead body, still wearing his borrowed face. “He’s dead.”

“I know, but there’s so much we don’t know about him or what Valentine did to him,” Jace said.

Jocelyn was nodding next to him, her face grim as she looked on her son’s body. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jace cut her off before she could make the suggestion he knew was coming.

“I’ll stay here with him until you can bring someone to collect him. Bring Izzy, if you can find her,” he said, leaning against a wall to slide down it. “The room is still spinning for me, anyway.”

“Ok,” Clary said, glancing between him and Jocelyn. “We’ll be back,” she said, then reached out for her mother’s arm and pulled her along.

Jace watched them go for a moment, then let his head drop back with a thunk against the wall. He closed his eyes and let his bond with Izzy flood open. At least he knew she was all right, though worried. He sent reassurance through their bond and felt her relief come back to him.

At least he knew one sibling was all right.

Now, he just had to worry about Alec.

* * *

The demons continued to pour into the building. Arrow after arrow shot past where Magnus was standing, taking out demons in rapid succession while red battle magic swirled around his hands to eliminate any that managed to get through the storm of arrows. Eventually, Magnus knew, those arrows would run out, and they would only have magic and close combat fighting to rely on.

And Alec’s newly formed bond with the Core would make him less than steady on his feet, which opened him up to potentially more damage from the demons than he would have otherwise.

There had been no time to practice with the Core bond to see what it could do. Time was not on their side in this situation, and frustration at Alec’s decision to proceed without consulting any of the people that loved him skittered through him.

Still, it was done now. All they could do was survive the day, then take the time to figure out what benefits the bond gave Alec and the other Shadowhunters connected to the Institute.

“Magnus!” Alec shouted and pointed to the side when Magnus glanced his way.

Another door had burst open, allowing even more demons to pour into the Operations center. Magnus boggled at the sheer number of demons that Valentine had under his control. How had he even managed to summon this many? How many Warlocks was the vile man torturing to do his bidding?

With every moment that passed, more demons swarmed into the building. They were overrun.

They were losing.

And then the arrows stopped flying.

Magnus risked a glance over his shoulder in time to see Alec standing, his bow clattering to the ground beside him as he drew his seraph blade to dispatch a demon that had made it to his location. His attention returned to the demon swarm coming through with renewed determination. Alec had finally run through all of his arrows. And Magnus wasn’t certain how much longer he’d be able to maintain the same pace with his own defense. He could feel exhaustion hounding him and knew that his reserves would be depleted, most likely before they’d managed to finish this fight.

His heart sank with the realization that there was a high likelihood that Valentine would win this battle. Would there be any survivors? The longer the fight dragged on, the less likely their chances of survival. Magnus risked another glance over his shoulder to check on Alec.

The sight that met his eyes drew a startled gasp from him, and he nearly missed the next demon he’d targeted.

Alec had dropped to his knees, eyes closed, while a white glow emanated from his body. A new layer of tension surrounded Magnus. Power was building within the walls of the building. The pressure increased, and Magnus swallowed, trying to dispel the sensation from his ears to no avail. Around him, the air seemed to take on the consistency of molasses, and Magnus struggled to keep moving, still intent on throwing red bursts of magic at the demons that kept spilling into the room. The atmospheric conditions seemed to negatively impact the demons, though, and Magnus was grateful that it wasn’t restricted to him.

When it felt like the pressure couldn’t possibly get any heavier and Magnus could barely raise his arms, the world paused for a moment. Nothing moved. Magnus wasn’t sure he even breathed at that moment.

And then it burst.

A shockwave of bright white light pulsed from Alec’s position, slamming into Magnus and the demons surrounding him. The wave shoved Magnus from his feet, and he tumbled to the floor. He landed with a thud and rolled until he came to an abrupt – and jarring – stop against the console several feet away from where he’d started.

For a moment, he just laid still, trying to regain the breath that had been knocked out of him in the wave. As soon as he was able, Magnus climbed to his feet, red magic again swirling around his hands as he prepared to defend himself from the demons that had just been attacking him.

But there was nothing to defend from.

Instead, dust and ichor coated the floors and hung heavily in the air. His gaze shot over to where he’d last seen Alec, and his heart skipped a beat. The other man was sprawled out on the floor, apparently unconscious. Fear gripped him, and he darted forward. Or, at least, he tried to dart. His feet slipped out from under him on the demonic remains, and Magnus whirled his arms to keep balance. Using part of his magic reserves, he cleared a path to Alec and sank to his knees next to his love.

“Alexander!”

Magnus reached out, blue magic again at the ready as he scanned Alec’s body, looking for any signs of internal injury. Nothing seemed to be damaged; he found only the expected contusions from dealing with a demon horde. With gentle hands, Magnus reached out and stroked Alec’s hair back from his forehead.

Channeling such an immense wave of power, presumably a benefit of his bond with the Core, must have sapped any remaining energy Alec had left. Reassured that Alec was only unconscious for the moment, Magnus glanced down and saw that they were both also covered in the remnants of destroyed demons. He waved a hand, and blue magic surged forth to dispel the disgusting mess from himself and the person he loved more than any other being, alive or dead.

Then, he sank back on his heels, still running a gentle hand through Alec’s hair. He would give him a few minutes to recover naturally since nothing seemed amiss. If Alec hadn’t woken by then, Magnus would portal him to the infirmary. It would also give him a short time to recover his own resources.

He had a feeling Alec was one of the few without serious wounds that would need tending to, and Magnus wanted to be as prepared as possible.

* * *

Chapter 18

Persistent ringing greeted Alec when he woke.

For several long moments, Alec lay still, his eyes closed as he took stock of his surroundings. There was no mistaking the mattress below him for anything other than an infirmary bed. He should know; he’d woken up in one too often to not have a very distinct impression of the barely comfortable beds. They weren’t supposed to be comfortable. They were for treatment and short-term recovery. At least he wasn’t waking up in one of the private rooms?

“Alexander?”

Without thought, Alec’s head turned towards Magnus’ voice like a flower to the sun. Whatever had knocked him out hadn’t impacted his ability to know when his love was at hand.

“Hmm,” he hummed, which was about as much as Alec felt up to handling just then.

“Alexander, can you open your beautiful eyes for me, darling?”

The thread of worry lacing Magnus’ voice made Alec tense. Something was definitely wrong. His eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Eventually, he got them open and blinked at the bright light overhead. Nothing sounded better than closing his eyes again and ignoring everything. His vision finally cleared enough that he saw Magnus hovering over him, and he dearly wished they were in more private circumstances so that he could beg for a cuddle.

“What happened?” His question came out as a croak. Moments later, a straw was in front of him as Magnus held a cup for him to drink.

Once he had taken his fill, Alec settled back on the pillow. Magnus leaned forward and cupped his cheek. “What do you remember?” he asked, eyes searching.

Alec shook his head in an effort to clear the mental fog that made it very difficult to pin down specific memories. As he thought, Alec let his eyes fall closed. He was hoping it would make the memories come to him, but all he really had was a…demon swarm closing in on Magnus?

“There were so many of them,” Alec murmured. “And..then I reached for the next arrow, but they were all gone.” His eyes snapped open, and he stared at Magnus, suddenly aware of how close they had come to dying.

The trouble was, he had no memory of what had happened to get them from facing down the swarm to the infirmary.

He knew that the bond with the Core felt…more present than it had before whatever had happened. Before their fight with the demon swarm, it had been a nagging presence in the back of his mind. Now, it was almost impossible to think around the pulse of power within his mind. It had definitely grown stronger.

The bond was consuming him. Keeping his eyes open was a struggle, and they were flickering closed without his permission.

Magnus reached out a gentle hand and carded it through his hair. “Sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Alec drifted, focused on the sensation of comfort from Magnus’ presence. Between one moment and the next, he fell asleep.

* * *

Clary walked into the infirmary and looked around. Her target was resting with his eyes closed in one of the beds along the wall. Magnus was sitting next to him, idly playing with the fingers he held in one hand.

As she approached, Magnus looked up. “Biscuit,” he greeted, smile soft. “Are you all right?”

Clary nodded. “I’m fine, but I need to talk to Alec.”

The man in question opened his eyes as she spoke. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, but I had a…vision?” She looked around, hoping no one else could hear.

Alec struggled to sit up, and Magnus propped him up with another pillow. She frowned, her concern growing with the obvious effort he was making just to sit upright. That, more than anything, convinced her that the vision was legitimate.

“A vision?” Alec prompted.

“Yeah. There was an angel,” she began, moving forward to sit on the edge of the bed by his feet. “At least, I think that’s what he was. It was the only word that would stick.” She shook her head, trying to describe the odd feeling she’d had when looking at the being.

“Anyway, he looked at me and then pointed behind me. When I turned around, I was flying over Alicante. I recognized the demon towers. I went over the city and over the forest. We came to a stop by a lake.

“You and Magnus were standing on the short of one side. And Valentine was on the other side. He didn’t know you were there, but he’d summoned a different angel. It was hovering over the water. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but then the view shifted back to you and Magnus.

“You drew a rune I’ve never seen before on the inside of your left forearm, then a different one on Magnus in the same spot.”

“Wait,” Alec said. “I drew a rune on Magnus?”

She nodded. “Yes, and yourself. The Angel called it Alliance.”

“What does it do?” Magnus asked, still holding onto Alec’s hand.

“I’m not sure, but however it works, the Alec in my vision looked like he got a second wind,” she said and glanced between them as she pulled out the notebook tucked under her arm. “I made a few sketches of what I saw.”

She flipped to the correct page and handed the book over. Magnus took it when it seemed like Alec didn’t even have the strength to lift his hand fully, and they looked at the pair of runes sketched on the page. Alec frowned at Clary. She fidgeted for a moment under his stare.

“You have no idea what it does?” he asked again but continued before she could speak. “Some of these lines look a bit reminiscent of other runes, but I can’t see the common thread.” Frustration leaked from his voice.

Clary shook her head again, also frustrated at her lack of shareable information. “I wish I could tell you more, but this was all I got from the vision.” She grimaced. “And it feels weird to call it that, but it’s the only word that really fits.”

Magnus leaned forward and looked between Alec and the drawing. “What does it remind you of?”

Raising one shaky hand, Alec carefully traced the first rune. “This entire rune reminds me of the parabatai rune. It’s different, but the foundation of the rune is the same.” He pointed to a smaller section of the rune. “Fortitude here. And hints of other elements from others.”

“What do you think it means?” Clary asked.

Alec shook his head. “I don’t know. Based on the name you gave and what you saw, my assumption is that it must form some kind of bond between the two bearers. It must be something similar to a parabatai bond, at least the same root with how similar it is.”

He sighed. “It could be anything. Experimenting on Magnus is not an option.” Alec’s voice was firm and unwavering in his declaration.

“Alexander,” Magnus said softly. “Clary’s vision has both of us all right. If we need this rune to finish things with Valentine, I see no reason not to try.” He reached out and squeezed one of Alec’s hands.

“Magnus,” Alec breathed on a sigh. “I hear what you’re saying, but we can’t just believe this will be all right! We’ve been through too much for me to lose you now.”

“If we don’t do this, there’s no guarantee I won’t lose you, anyway. This bond with the Core is draining you. I’m watching you fade before my eyes!”

Alec sighed heavily, and Clary wondered if she should leave. This conversation wasn’t really meant for her to witness, but she didn’t want to move and draw their attention away. Whatever they decided, there was no guarantee of a positive outcome, and she knew they realized that even if they’d do anything to make sure things went well.

“Maybe…” Magnus started after the silence had lingered long enough. He stopped, a look of uncertainty flashing across his face.

“What?” Alec prodded.

“Are you able to communicate with the bond at all?” he asked.

Alec grimaced slightly. “I’ve been trying to tune it out,” he admitted. “It’s become much…louder since the attack. But, yes, it feels like it has…sapience when I open myself to it.” Alec was clearly struggling with how to describe what the bond felt like to others.

Clary leaned forward, her gaze bouncing between the two men as she thought she knew where Magnus was going with his question. “You said the bond gave you an angelic vision before, right?”

Alec nodded. “Yes, but…I don’t see how this is relevant here.”

“Maybe it can give you an impression of whether this is the right track or even just whether or not it’s safe,” Clary suggested.

Magnus nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking, Biscuit.” He looked to Alec. “It’s worth a try to see if the Core will provide any feedback if you ask it.”

Alec looked at Magnus for a long time before finally giving a grudging nod. “All right. I’ll see if…it gives me any feedback,” he said and shook his head.

Clary and Magnus looked at him intently, and Alec shook his head. “What, now?” he asked.

“No time like the present,” Magnus quipped with a gentle smile.

Looking between them, Clary decided she didn’t need to be present for this part. She was fairly confident that having an audience wasn’t going to make it any easier for Alec to…commune or whatever with the Core. She smiled at the pair and stood.

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Clary,” Alec said.

With a nod and a final smile, Clary turned and left. Whatever came of this, she hoped that Alec would be able to find a way to manage the bond that was chipping away at his strength.

* * *

“Are you sure you should be doing this?” Magnus asked, reaching toward Alec to stabilize him after they exited the portal.

The terrain around them was uneven lake-edge, and Alec was grateful for Magnus’s support as he tried to find his footing. He couldn’t believe how weak he felt as if everything he had was being drained away, leaving just enough for him to function. If not for pure determination, Alec would have fallen flat on his face and not had the willpower to force himself back up. He could have easily sunk into the bond presence and just…floated. There was something so peaceful and warm about the bond.

He nodded at Magnus and stumbled forward a bit. “The bond’s response to everything was very forceful. We need to do this. Clary’s vision…it’s the only way either of us comes out of this alive, I think.”

Alec reached out a hand and braced it on Magnus’ shoulder. “But we don’t know nearly enough about these runes, Magnus. They could be temporary and fade away when we’re done with whatever task needs to be done.” He paused a moment, searching Magnus’ face for a reaction to his next words. “Or, it could be permanent, and I don’t know what the repercussions of that would be. You have to be sure you want to do this, though. I won’t do it if you’re not.”

Magnus shook his head. “Whatever the repercussions, I want to do this with you. But you’re sure we couldn’t have drawn the runes in the infirmary?”

Alec shook his head. “No, it was very clear that it needed to happen just like the vision laid out. We need to draw the runes on the shores of Lake Lyn.” He grimaced before continuing. “After Raziel appears…”

“I wish I understood everything about this, darling, but I trust you,” Magnus said, slipping closer to Alec and pulling his arm around his shoulders, so they were walking in more of an embrace than anything else.

“I wish we could be doing this under different circumstances, as well, love. But this is where we are, so we’ll do what needs to be done,” Alec said and leaned down slightly to press a kiss to Magnus’ head as they walked. “We need to go further.”

The bond was guiding him towards some point around the outside of the lake. He had no idea why it had to be that particular spot, but whatever the reason, there was determination behind it. It was probably best not to question an Angelic Core bond when it insisted something had to be a particular way.

Finally, after walking for what felt like an eternity, Alec stopped. “We’re here,” he said, glancing around. Nothing about the area looked different from the rest of the shoreline that they’d traversed, but it felt different. The bond emanated a sense of rightness about their current location versus any that they’d passed through before. A set of large rocks led towards the waterline, and Alec staggered towards one that looked high enough for him to sit on relatively comfortably.

His eyes drifted closed without his conscious thought. When they’d come out of the portal, Alec had immediately noticed how much more present the bond felt, though the reason behind that was unclear. Maybe it had something to do with Lake Lyn?

“Are you all right, Alexander?” Magnus asked, laying a gentle hand at the base of his neck.

Alec leaned into Magnus’ arm and just let his head rest for a moment. “Yeah. Kinda? It’s…the bond…everything is so heavy right here.”

Magnus stepped back slightly, and Alec looked at him, eyes opening as he lost the touch against his shoulder. The Warlock’s eyes had closed, and he seemed to be concentrating on something unseen. When Magnus’ eyes reopened, they were covered in delicate blue lines, the same color most of his magic was outside of battle. After several long moments where Magnus looked around them, he finally shook his head slightly and refocused on Alec.

“This is a major ley line convergence point,” he said, gesturing towards the lake. “That may be why you’re feeling it more heavily?” Magnus suggested.

Alec looked around and contemplated what he’d said, trying to listen to whatever feedback might be coming from the bond. As vivid as when it originally happened, the memory of traveling down the ley lines to find Ithuriel’s location in Idris jumped to the forefront of his mind. He nodded slowly. Both the memory and the bond seemed to agree with what Magnus had said.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s definitely related to this. I traveled down the ley lines when the bond formed. There’s something about the connection between the core and the ley lines.” Alec shook his head. “But they’re not actually connected in New York.”

Magnus made a face. “That’s true, but we don’t really understand how the cores operate, and they are always surrounded by strong ley lines, from what I’ve seen. Maybe they are more connected than we’ve ever assumed, but they don’t have a direct tether that we can see for protection.”

As he was about to respond, the area behind them on the opposite side of the lake burst into brilliant golden fire. Alec stared and felt more than saw a wave of pure energy wash over him from the emergence of the light.

Raziel had been summoned.

Alec felt a surge of energy that he’d sorely needed in the wake of the emergence. The bond was prodding him now, and Alec knew it was time. “We need to draw the runes,” he said.

Magnus nodded and stepped forward, watching carefully as Alec pulled out his stele. Clary had been particular about the location of the runes and which one had to go first. Alec felt a slight pressure when he started drawing the rune on his forearm. The burning sensation that usually followed rune drawing was almost unbearable this time, but he pushed through the pain and finished the rune, knowing there was no other option.

Alec hung his head for a moment when the rune was done, breathing deeply through the lingering pain of the fresh rune. That had been so much worse than usual and knowing that he was about to inflict that level of pain on Magnus made him feel ill, especially when he considered that Nephilim were known for having very high pain tolerances. If Alec had struggled with that rune, how would Magnus manage?

“Alexander?” Magnus asked, reaching out to run a hand over his shoulder.

“I don’t know how I can draw this on you, Magnus. The pain is going to be…excruciating for you,” Alec admitted, looking up at Magnus.

Magnus swallowed. “I suppose using magic to deaden the area first isn’t a good idea?” he asked.

Alec let his eyes close, seeking the bond out for whatever guidance it could provide. The only thing he was getting back from it was the equivalent of a shrug. He felt his face scrunch up in annoyance at the ambivalent response. “I think it’ll be all right if you can do it, so there’s no active magic present?” he said, the words tilting towards a question as he spoke.

“I can do that,” Magnus said and pulled the sleeve back from his left forearm. A wave of blue magic swept over his arm, and he shook it slightly as the effect took hold. “While that feels decidedly odd, I think it will do the trick.” He looked back to Alec and quirked an eyebrow. “Let’s get this done.”

Alec nodded and held out his left hand for Magnus’ hand to brace it as he drew the second half of the rune pair. Again, he felt the same resistance as he drew, but it faded to nothing by the time he was finishing the rune. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the muscles in his hand, still holding on to Magnus’ hand, clamped tight. Alec couldn’t release his grip on Magnus’ arm

Both runes flared to life, glowing brightly gold as they watched.

Pressure built under Alec’s skin. All he could do was hold Magnus’ gaze with his own. Moving any other part of his body seemed impossible just then. When the pressure reached a point where Alec was sure his skin would simply split apart, everything went white around him.

He wondered if his eyes were even still open or if he had simply been consumed entirely by the field of white that he now saw. The sense of detachment from his body was all-encompassing. There was nothing but the white field of energy in his view, nothing but a distant sense of floating away from everything.

And Alec thought he might be all right with that, at least for a moment.

A glimmer of color caught his attention, and Alec focused on it, letting it prevent him from floating away out of reach. The whiteness that was his current field of vision shifted. It was no longer just a flat white field but was now three-dimensional, turning into a mist that surrounded him completely. Still, at least he had a sense of self again, a sense that he was contained within a physical form and not just an ephemeral being made of white light.

The flash of color that he’d locked on to was growing stronger with each passing moment. It had started as a hint of color, just something that broke the monotony of white. As he focused, the mist in front of the spot of color thinned, letting a touch of yellow-green through.

Alec recognized what he was looking at almost instantly.

Magnus’ beautiful Warlock mark, the golden-green cat’s eyes that had caused Magnus so much grief in the past, served as a relentless reminder of the being that had sired him.

But Alec had always found them beautiful, just as beautiful as every other part of Magnus because they were part of Magnus, and there was no part of him that Alec could ever not love.

The eyes continued to push through the white mist, further anchoring Alec to this plane of existence. He continued to stare, watching as Magnus slowly took shape from the mist. Finally, it was just the two of them, still on the shore of Lake Lyn. Trying desperately to recall exactly what had happened, Alec finally managed to tear his eyes away from Magnus to look at the other side of the lake.

Raziel still hung in his golden glory, suspended over the water.

“Alec. Are you back with me?” Magnus asked, the tightness and slight shake in his voice giving away his worry.

Dragging his gaze away from the golden light show, Alec looked back at Magnus and nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped and cleared his throat before continuing. “Yeah. I’m here. What happened?”

His feet started moving without conscious thought, taking him further around the shoreline.

“Alec?” Magnus asked as he was tugged along in Alec’s wake.

Alec realized he was still holding Magnus’ hand as he moved. Letting it go was not currently an option for some reason. His pace picked up, and he sent a baffled look over his shoulder to Magnus, frowning in confusion as he followed the compulsion to keep moving. They settled into a careful jog around the lake.

He had no idea why, but he knew he needed to quickly get over to the other side. And Magnus had to come with him. As Alec moved, he started to take more notice of his surroundings. The vegetation nearest the lake’s edges looked like a massive wind had swept through them. The trees were leaning away from the lake, with bark stripped away in some places. He slowed for a moment, looking back at Magnus. His Warlock seemed a bit windblown as well, and his careful coif was definitely disturbed.

And…were those scorch marks? There were jagged black points on most of the trees and on the ground. Some were still smoking, but it didn’t feel dangerous, so Alec tugged at Magnus, and they kept moving.

“What happened?” Alec asked again, glancing back over his shoulder at Magnus. “I remember drawing the runes, and then they were glowing…then everything whited out for a bit.”

Magnus didn’t answer right away, but his grip remained strong, and he didn’t seem to be struggling to keep up with Alec.

“Well,” Magnus started, drawing out the word. “I think we were in the middle of an electrical tornado wind storm.”

The words brought Alec up short, and he stopped so abruptly that Magnus bounced off his back. Alec stabilized him without letting go of his hand and turned to look. “Huh,” he said, then started moving again as he tried to take that in.

Everything had shifted so quickly for Alec like the loose ground was beneath his feet. Since agreeing to the bond with the Core, nothing had been the same. It had needed to be done, though, for so many reasons, and it had felt like the right course of action. It still felt like the right course of action, and now that he was sharing the presence with Magnus, he felt stronger than ever. Alec knew they were on the right path.

The only trouble was that Alec was no longer entirely certain what that path actually was.

Lost as he was in his thoughts, Alec didn’t realize they had made it to the other side of the lake until he stopped walking. Raziel was still hovering over the lake, looking ethereal and remote as he gazed off into the distance. Alec was transfixed by the sight of a powerful angel, something that hadn’t been seen by the Nephilim in centuries.

And not just any angel, but Raziel himself, the angel that had created the Nephilim.

To say that the sight enraptured Alec would have been an understatement. Only Magnus’ gasp next to him was enough to shake his focus. Alec blinked and looked to the side, checking to ensure that Magnus was all right. The warlock was staring at something on the ground, and Alec followed his gaze.

Huh.

Electrical tornado wind storm whispered through his head as he looked at Valentine’s corpse. The body looked like it had been struck by a bolt of lightning, one much more powerful than any of the other evidence suggested. Gentle ribbons of smoke were still wafting from the body. He was very dead.

It was as though the man had been smote.

Alec glanced from the body back to Raziel and wondered if the angel was responsible for the man’s death. He took a step closer to the golden being hovering over the lake, not sure if he should address a being out of legend. But he had to know what had happened.

How did one even address an angel? And not just any angel, but the angel that was responsible for the existence of an entire species.

Alexander Gideon Lightwood, Raziel’s voice rang through Alec’s mind with the tintinnabulation of a choir of bells.

Alec blinked at being addressed and stepped forward. He still had no idea how to address the being, so he was letting instinct guide him, instinct and the bond he had with the Core. “Angel Raziel,” he said, bowing his head for a moment before looking towards the angel.

You have started the Nephilim back towards their intended path, Raziel said. As Ithuriel’s Chosen, much work is yet to be done, and your burden will not be light.

The angel gestured towards Valentine’s body. This one is but a symptom of a much larger blight on the whole of your people. Never were the Nephilim intended to subjugate and torment our demon-blooded brethren. His Wish to destroy all those with demon blood violates the covenant that rules our world.

Alec shook his head, frowning, and glanced briefly back at Magnus, who was watching the scene wide-eyed. “My apologies, Angel Raziel, but the only covenant I am familiar with is the one that charges Nephilim with the responsibility of policing the Shadow World. It is the Law.”

Raziel turned the full force of his gaze on Alec. The covenant you speak of is not the original. This, too, will be your duty to restore, Ithuriel’s Chosen. Your burden is not light, but you have many to provide aid.

Memento sperare, Alexander Lightwood.

The golden light shimmering around the angel expanded and brightened until Alec was finally forced to look away. When he looked back, there was no sign of the angel, just Alec, Magnus, and Valentine’s corpse.

“Well,” Magnus began, moving to stand next to Alec. He placed a bracing hand at the small of Alec’s back as they took in the scene around them. “That doesn’t happen every day.”

Alec snorted, amused despite the situation, and leaned over to drop a kiss on Magnus’ temple. “Indeed. No idea what we should do about this, though,” he said with a careless gesture at the body.

A clanging sound from the water’s edge interrupted whatever Magnus would have said next. Washed up on the shore were the Mortal Cup and the Soul Sword, two objects Alec had thought were lost with the Wish. He bent down to scoop them up before looking back at Magnus.

“They look like they’re in the same condition they were the last time I saw them. But where’s the mirror?” he asked, mostly to himself.

Magnus was staring at the lake, and his forehead furrowed with thought. Following his gaze, Alec looked as well and tried to see what Magnus saw. The only thing in front of him was the lake, surrounded by the damaged trees at the periphery. The sun was just about to set, and the sky was aflame with a burst of oranges, golds, and purples, all of which were reflected perfectly by the lake’s still surface.

The lake that was filled with dangerous water, causing hallucinations to those who drank it, and eventually became poisonous if left untreated.

The lake that was rumored to be the location Raziel had appeared to Jonathan Shadowhunter.

The lake that was reflecting a mirror image of the sky right now.

Alec and Magnus exchanged glances at the same time, both seemingly coming to the realization that the Mortal Mirror was not an object but the lake itself.

Alec started to say something about the lake, but an insistent urging from the bond caught his attention. Magnus frowned and looked around.

“Do you hear something?” he asked quietly.

Alec frowned, concentrating on the bond. The urge to leave was growing stronger with each passing moment.

And then he heard the commotion in the trees.

“I think we should leave,” Magnus said, magic already curling around his hands as he called up a portal.

Alec nodded, and they stepped through the portal together. Alec glanced over his shoulder as he stepped through the portal and saw the light of seraph blades bouncing through the trees. Obviously, Alicante had been alerted to whatever was happening at Lake Lyn, and they were headed that way to investigate.

As they hurried up the steps of the New York Institute and into the sanctuary of the building, Alec realized that the thought of staying for the Shadowhunters from Alicante to find them with Valentine’s body had never even occurred to him. The urge to leave had been too strong.

Alec wasn’t sure what to do with the two Mortal Instruments in his arms. He knew with absolute certainty that the Clave could not be allowed to get their hands on them, though, and he attributed that to the bond with the Angelic Core. It was still pulling at him, urging him on towards the elevator that would take him down to the level it was housed on.

He went without bothering to fight it, Magnus following close behind him.

They managed to make it down to the Core room without running into any other Shadowhunters, and Alec was glad that he wouldn’t have to try to explain why he had the Mortal Cup and the Soul Sword. But what was he going to do with them? The safe was too insecure for his peace of mind.

An idea popped into his head, and he looked at Magnus, knowing that even thinking it could be grounds for deruning. At this point, it was the best option, and the bond felt content with the thought.

He cleared his throat and turned to Magnus, the soft white-blue light from the Core casting flickering shadows on Magnus’ face. “Magnus…could you…put these somewhere safe?” he asked, holding the two Mortal Instruments out in offering to his Warlock.

Magnus stared at him for a long moment, and the expression on his face was unreadable to Alec. Had he just misstepped somehow without realizing it?

The Warlock swallowed harshly and started to speak, but his words came out in a rasp. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You would hand two of the Mortal Instruments to a Downworlder?” Magnus asked.

Alec suddenly understood. He glanced down at the Mortal Instruments before meeting Magnus’ gaze and smiling as he took a step closer. “I would hand two of the Mortal Instruments to you, Magnus. I trust you, and I know you’ll do what is necessary to protect the Shadow World.”

Magnus stared at him again for a moment before nodding slowly. He twisted his hands in that way that Alec had always thought was elegant, blue magic curling around his hands, and a ripple appeared hovering in the air before them. It looked like a smaller version of the transportation portal that they used so frequently.

Magnus took the Sword and the Cup from Alec and gently placed them inside the portal, his hands disappearing briefly as he set them inside.

“This is a dimensional pocket,” he murmured as he pulled his hands out. “Any Warlock should be able to access it in this room, but they need to know it’s here.”

The portal shrank to a point before disappearing completely, with no trace left of its presence.

“Perfect,” Alec said, sighing slightly as a weight lifted from his shoulders. “Thank you for taking care of that for me. I feel much better knowing they’re safe and out of reach.”

Magnus smiled and pulled him into a chaste kiss. “Anything for you,” he murmured.

Alec smiled back for a long moment before pulling back. “Let’s head to Operations and see if the Clave has sent anything about Valentine yet.”

He held a hand out to Magnus and pulled him out of the Core room towards the elevator. It had been such a long day, and part of him just wanted to go to his room and cuddle with Magnus, but he knew there was more to do before that happened.

* * *

Chapter 19

The Clave said nothing about Valentine Morgenstern’s death.

There was nothing about Raziel being summoned over Lake Lyn or that the Mortal Instruments were still missing.

It was almost as though nothing at all had happened.

Alec was profoundly suspicious and disturbed by the lack of any news whatsoever. He had a bad feeling about the Clave’s intentions. Why would they hesitate to send out notification that Valentine Morgenstern was dead and all they really needed to worry about going forward was ferreting out any lingering Circle members and dealing with them? It just didn’t make any sense.

At least, it wouldn’t make any sense in a world where the Clave was a good organization and had the pureset of intentions towards protecting the Shadow World. In this world, however, Alec was concerned that it made all too much sense. There was corruption at the highest levels of Nephilim government, but the true extent of that corruption was still a mystery.

Alec sighed heavily and rubbed a hand across his eyes. This needed to change, but the scope of it all was overwhelming. How was he supposed to fix a problem at that level of their government? It definitely wasn’t going to be something he could do by himself.

There was a brief knock on the door, and then it burst open. Andrew Underhill was on the other side. Alec frowned at the expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he stood from the desk and walked around.

“The Clave is sending someone.”

Alec shook his head in confusion. “For what?” he asked.

Andrew turned and started walking back towards the portal room. “I don’t know. They didn’t send anything else in the message, just a notification that the portal would be activating.”

Alec felt alarm pooling in his body as they hurried along the hall. His bond with the Core was pulsating with it, and Alec didn’t know what it meant. The Clave’s silence surrounding Valentine’s death and, now, sending someone here for unknown reasons…all of it left Alec with a growing sense of dread.

The portal room was still empty when they arrived, but it didn’t stay that way for long. The person stepped through, and Alec frowned.

“Mother?” he asked, stepping forward.

Maryse Lightwood looked at Alec with her face set in a hard mask. “Alexander,” she said.

Before Alec could say anything further, more people started pouring out of the portal, all of them armed and wearing the uniforms of the Gard. He frowned as they spread out around the room, surrounding Alec and pushing Andrew further back.

“What is this about?” Alec asked, the feeling of dread growing. He could barely focus on what was happening around him with the way the bond was still broadcasting alarm. Whatever this was, it was nothing good.

Maryse took a step forward and pulled out a scroll. Alec knew he was in serious trouble then. The Clave only used scrolls for the most serious of offenses.

“Alexander Gideon Lightwood, you are under arrest on charges of sedition and treason against the Clave. You have been tried and found guilty in absentia. You will be remanded to the custody of the Gard until the Council is convened for sentencing,” Maryse said. Her face gave away nothing of her feelings in being the one to deliver the news.

Alec looked over his shoulder at Andrew and nodded at him. After a long moment, Andrew returned the nod and turned away, hurrying back down the corridor towards Operations and, hopefully, Jace and Izzy. Alec had no idea how he would get out of this, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it on his own.

“I’ll need time to contact a representative,” he said, trying to do anything to delay their departure.

Maryse shook her head once. “You do not need representation.”

She nodded at the guards, and one stepped forward, pulling his hands behind his back and fastening what he assumed were adamas cuffs around his wrists. The bond with the core abruptly dimmed, but it couldn’t be completely cut off. His stele was confiscated, and they nudged him forward towards the portal.

“But — ” Alec tried, but a strong push cut him off.

“Silence,” the guard to his left ordered.

“I have a right —”

“You have no rights any longer. Be silent, or you will be silenced.”

Alec’s stomach sank. It was going to be like this, then? He’d been found guilty, and he didn’t even know precisely what he’d been accused of. This couldn’t be legitimate. Genuine fear skittered up his spine, something that he didn’t experience that often for himself. If they’d already found him guilty, without even giving him a chance to defend himself, then they could do anything, really.

Deruning would be the best outcome he could hope for.

The bond pulsed angrily in his mind, and Alec knew the Core was highly agitated by the strength of it even through the dampening effect created by the adamas cuffs. One of the guards grabbed his upper arm and dragged him forward.

“Alec!” Izzy’s voice echoed into the room just as Alec was shoved across the portal’s threshold. There wasn’t even a chance to look back at Isabelle before the portal moved him.

He stumbled as he came out the other side in Alicante. If not for the guard holding his arm, Alec thought he would have fallen to the ground without any way of stopping the impact as his hands were bound behind his back.

“Well, Mr. Lightwood,” Inquisitor Herondale said, arms crossed as she stood in front of another group of guards to greet their group. “You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

Alec jerked his arm away from the guard that was still holding him. “Madam Inquisitor. I respectfully request that a representative be assigned to me so that I can review the charges laid against me.”

Imogen Herondale raised an eyebrow and smiled ever so slightly. “Your audacity is impressive, as always, Mr. Lightwood.” She took a step toward him and tilted her head as she observed him. “You have already been found guilty of the charges, and you will be sentenced in due time.”

“Madam Inquisitor,” Alec tried again. “I don’t even know what these charges are! I haven’t had any chance to defend myself.” He grimaced as the guard grabbed his arm again, realizing he’d taken a step forward without thought. “I have a right to defend myself, Inquisitor.”

“The case against you was clear-cut, Lightwood,” she said, voice stern. “You’ve been found guilty of sedition and treason against the Clave. The bond you’ve formed with the Angelic Core of the New York Institute has been outlawed for well over a century. The bond was recorded in the Book of the Covenant automatically. The evidence is solid and damning.”

Herondale quirked an eyebrow, and Alec knew what was coming next. “What do we say, Lightwood?” She paused briefly, but the question was rhetorical. “The Law is hard, but it is the Law. And now you will face the consequences of breaking the Law.”

“Inquis—”

“Take him to the cells,” Herondale ordered.

The guard that had taken hold of his arm started pulling him away.

“Inquisitor, please!” Alec tried again.

But Imogen Herondale had no mercy in her heart for Alec and had never been interested in seeing him succeed. She turned on her heel and walked away at a brisk clip, entirely ignoring anything further that Alec might have tried to say.

He was hustled along the hallways, roughly jostled anytime his pace slacked. The whole situation was beyond surreal, and Alec hoped that he’d just fallen asleep at his desk. Was there any chance at all that he could be asleep? Surely, that would be a better explanation for this farce.

Alec was jerked to a stop outside of an open cell. The cuffs were separated but not removed before he was shoved into the cell and the door slammed shut with a clang that seemed to ricochet through his body. The guards turned and walked away without another word or glance.

Left alone with his swirling thoughts, Alec sank down onto the uncushioned platform that served as the only bit of comfort in the cell and buried his head in his hands.

* * *

With no way to tell time, Alec had no idea how long he sat there, lost in his thoughts. The cell he was in had no windows, but he had a feeling it had been at least several hours that he’d been left to stew in silence. He still wished he could just wake up from the nightmare his life had turned into, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. The surreal situation he’d found himself in was reality.

The Clave knew he’d formed a bond with the Angelic Core. How long it had taken them to realize it had happened was a different matter. There was no way to know because he doubted they would tell him, but he had a suspicion they’d only just learned of it.

The bond itself was still pulsing in the background of his mind. His sense of the bond was still diminished because of the cuffs, but he still found the presence soothing, in a way. Alec found himself clinging to the bond as the only thing he had left. Discovering he’d been found guilty of something without even having the opportunity to defend himself rattled what little faith in the Clave he had left.

Alec knew this outcome was not going to be favorable to him. Hopefully, he’d just be deruned and dumped on the street somewhere.

Footsteps caught his attention, and Alec looked over at the gated door of the cell. He wasn’t going to stand for whoever it was. The very minor rebellion felt good, but he knew it wouldn’t matter to whoever was on the other side of the door.

Two guards were looking in at him expectantly. One slid open a smaller slot on the door. “Hands,” he said, gesturing towards the slot.

Alec contemplated ignoring them for a long moment but eventually decided that it wasn’t worth the inevitable confrontation. He stood and moved over to the bars. The guard quickly reconnected the two cuffs. At least his hands would be bound in front of him this time.

“Step back.”

Doing as ordered, Alec waited as the guards slid the door open and gestured for him to step out. They made another long trip down the corridor. Alec didn’t recognize where they were. He’d never had a reason to visit this part of the Gard. He wasn’t particularly interested in seeing it now.

The guard holding his arm abruptly stopped and turned towards a door, jerking his arm harshly to get Alec facing the correct direction. The other guard opened the door and entered, followed closely by Alec as the guard holding him pushed him through.

Alec stopped abruptly. They were in what looked like a medical suite, but there was a chair in the middle of the room. It reminded him of a dentist’s chair, and Alec had the sudden suspicion he was in the room where deruning happened. He swallowed harshly. He’d thought there would be more time, and then he’d actually go before the Council for sentencing.

That had been his last hope. If things had been following standard procedures, Alec would have had one last opportunity to speak before the Council, one time to plead his case.

But it looked like that wasn’t his fate.

The guards grabbed both of his arms, and Alec was forced into the chair and strapped down. Whatever was about to happen was completely out of his control.

The sense of helplessness he felt was overwhelming. His thoughts turned back to Magnus and his family, and Alec hoped someone would at least let them know what had happened to him. He had his doubts that that would happen, though.

The door swung open again, and Imogen Herondale walked in again, followed by two of the Silent Brothers. She stopped in front of the chair he was trapped in, looking at him with the smug superiority he’d come to expect from her. The Silent Brothers moved around to either side of him. Alec glanced at them uneasily. They were the ones who conducted the deruning process.

“Well, Lightwood. I’m sure this waiting around is unpleasant for you, so we won’t keep you waiting any longer than necessary,” the Inquisitor said, then looked to the Silent Brothers. “You may proceed.”

As you wish, Inquisitor, the voice of one of the unnamed Brothers echoed telepathically through the room.

The adamas cuffs must be removed for the first procedure, the other Brother said. Alec had no idea which one had spoken.

At the Inquisitor’s nod, one of the guards stepped forward, and the cuffs were removed. As soon as they were free of his skin, Alec felt the bond with the Core flood wide open, swamping him in a flurry of emotions that weren’t his. Anger, concern, righteous indignation; there were so many that he couldn’t keep track of everything, but the Core was very much not in agreement with whatever was happening here.

One of the Brothers brought a circlet of a silvery metal out and placed it on his head. The Brothers brought their hands, palms outward, to face each other.

This wasn’t deruning.

“What’s going on?” Alec asked, unable to keep silent any longer. He tried to look at the Inquisitor. “I haven’t even been sentenced yet!”

The Inquisitor quirked an eyebrow. “You have been sentenced, Mr. Lightwood. It was determined that your presence was not required. The illegal bond you’ve formed will be severed, you will be deruned, and then you will be executed with the next group of criminals to face Raziel’s Judgement.”

Alec felt his jaw drop. They were going to torture him with the pain of deruning after breaking the bond, which he could only imagine would be unpleasant, and then they were going to execute him by runic immolation. The cruelty of it all took his breath.

“How did we get here?” he whispered. “Is this truly what Raziel would have wanted for our people?” Alec shook his head, thinking of his encounter with Raziel at the Lake. He knew this was part of what the angel had meant when he said the Nephilim had strayed from the path of the covenant.

Herondale ignored him and nodded at the Brothers. “Proceed,” she ordered.

The bond was pulsing with anger in his mind, each pulse slightly stronger than the last, as the Brothers began whatever it was they were trying to break the bond. A wave of reassurance came to him then, and Alec relaxed slightly despite the situation. Whatever was about to happen was not going to work – not if Ithuriel had anything to do with it.

The circlet around Alec’s head grew warmer the longer the Brothers concentrated on him. It also felt like it was slowly tightening the longer it went on. The pressure from outside his head was growing and the bond kept pulsing right along with it.

The bond was definitely stronger than whatever the Brothers were trying to do to break his connection with the Core.

Finally, the Brothers stopped what they were doing and eased back. The connection to the Angelic Core is more robust than anticipated. We are unable to break the connection with this method.

The Inquisitor frowned and crossed her arms as she looked at him. “Always causing me problems, Lightwood. Is there anything else you can try?” she asked, directing the question to the Brothers.

The silence in the room lengthened as the two Brothers stared at each other. Alec wondered idly if they were talking privately. His head was pounding, and it was difficult to keep his thoughts in order. The circlet was still sitting on his head, clamped around him like a vice. The bond pulsed in time with his heartbeat, and it was all he could do not to vomit on the Inquisitor’s feet.

We believe the removal of the Enkeli rune will sever the bond, came the voice of one of the Brothers. At the very least, it should weaken the bond sufficiently so that we are able to break it.

Alec swallowed painfully. They were going to derune him, and it sounded like they would be starting with the first rune he’d ever gotten. The memory of his rune ceremony flashed through his mind. It was one of the only times he remembered his parents ever truly appearing pleased with him. And now the rune was going to go and with it the bond to the Angelic Core that he’d only just started to get used to.

“Do it,” Herondale said, then stepped back to the side of the room.

A word of caution, Inquisitor. This procedure is likely to kill him.

“He’s slated for execution, anyway. If it kills him, so be it. It’s more important that the bond is broken as an example of what happens to anyone else that tries something so foolish,” she said.

Alec let his eyes drop closed. He’d hoped there would still be time for something to happen, but at every turn, he was disappointed. The Clave was so determined to end him that they weren’t wasting any time.

His eyes burned as tears gathered, and Alec wished he could see Magnus and his siblings one last time. He wished he’d at least had a chance to say goodbye to them. The corruption of the Council made that impossible.

As you wish, Inquisitor.

One of the Brothers produced a device that Alec immediately recognized as the tool used to remove runes. The other Brother gripped his left arm and twisted it so that the Enkeli rune on the outside of his forearm was showing. He tried to brace himself for what he knew would be agonizing pain.

The bond’s presence swelled again as Alec felt his panic mounting. The wave of comfort/reassurance/peace coming from the bond was trying to set him at ease, but Alec didn’t know how he was supposed to feel reassured at this moment when he was about to be deruned in a process that was probably going to kill him.

The bond pulsed again, and, this time, Alec felt the push of angelic power sweeping through him from head to toe.

He also felt the pain competing with the power as the Brother put the removal tool to his angelic power rune. The device was being run over the rune in the reverse of the way it had been initially drawn. Alec felt like his arm was on fire. He wished he could close his eyes, but something compelled him to watch as the Brothers worked.

After one pass, the rune was still there, though it had faded slightly. Alec heaved air into his lungs, trying to breathe through the pain radiating from his arm.

Odd, one of the Brothers said. He leaned forward to run the tool over his arm again, and Alec tried to cringe away, but he was held too tightly to move.

“Please stop,” he begged. “I don’t deserve this.” The tears had started falling at some point, and he wished more than anything that Magnus was here.

The bond pulsed.

The Brother set the tool to his rune and started to draw.

Alec felt the pressure in his head building from the bond as the Core pushed more power into his body.

The Enkeli rune started to glow with a pure golden light, and all sensation of pain abruptly vanished.

Alec’s eyes finally slipped closed as the power filled his body and that same golden light was all he could see. He was distantly aware of the circlet around his head breaking apart and hitting his shoulders as it fell away. The rest of his bindings followed shortly after. Nothing else made a dent in his awareness, just the building golden light and the sense of peace he felt from the bond.

The pressure seemed to come to a point where it could go no further, and Alec thought he recognized the feeling.

That was the last thought he was aware of as the golden light flared brighter and everything faded to white.

* * *

Chapter 20

Magnus paced back and forth in front of Alec’s desk. His worry increased with each step, along with his sense of guilt. If only he’d been at the Institute when Alec was taken, maybe he’d have been able to do something to stop it from happening. Instead, he’d been dealing with his duties as High Warlock of Brooklyn after they’d returned from Lake Lyn.

The Nephilim’s absence was like a hole in Magnus’ heart, and he wondered what was happening to Alexander and if he was all right.

Isabelle, Jace, and Lydia were all plotting ways to retrieve Alexander. They’d requested information from the Clave about his status, but no one was being very forthcoming with details about why Alexander had been taken or when his trial would be held.

A knock at the door preceded Andrew Underhill’s entrance.

“Andrew,” Lydia said as she stood from the seating area. “Any news?”

The man grimaced. “Inquisitor Herondale for the, uh, Head of the Institute,” he said, looking at Jace with a raised eyebrow.

Jace sighed and moved around Lydia. He’d revealed his family relationship with the Inquisitor but had yet to change his name officially. “Hopefully, she’s calling with news about Alec.”

The rest of the group hurried after Jace, eager to find out if there would be any news. They made it to the Operations Center and stood to the side of the communications console that was connected to Alicante while Jace faced his grandmother.

“Ma’am,” Jace said. His voice was more respectful than Magnus would have been capable of at that moment. “Are you calling with news about Alec?”

There was a long pause as the Inquisitor stared back at her grandson, and Magnus couldn’t tell what her expression meant. There was something about it that he didn’t trust, but that might have been his own feelings about the Clave creating a bias.

The Inquisitor cleared her throat. “Yes. Alexander Lightwood was found guilty of treason and has been executed as a traitor to the Clave.”

Jace blinked at the woman on the screen. Magnus felt his knees start to give way beneath him at the news that she’d dropped on them without a thought.

“What?” Jace breathed, shock evident on his face.

“No!” Isabelle shoved into the frame next to Jace. “You’re lying! There hasn’t even been a trial! We don’t even know what he was charged with!”

“Be that as it may, the fact of the matter is that he was a traitor to our people. He violated the Law willingly and suffered the consequences of his actions,” the Inquisitor said, her voice cutting a harsh staccato in the sudden silence that had followed her announcement.

The news had spread through Operations quickly, and all had gathered around the group at the console. More New York Shadowhunters were trickling in from the hallways as the news spread. Magnus was trying desperately to hold onto the moment so that he could plan his revenge against the Clave.

“You will continue to do your duty to the Clave as Head of the New York Institute. Ms. Branwell will remain as your co-Head until such time as you have married appropriately,” the Inquisitor continued, deliberately ignoring the reaction her words had caused. She paused and leaned forward to look at Jace with a focused look that dared him to interrupt. “You will learn from this matter, Jace, and prove to the Clave that you are not tainted by the traitor you were raised with. Do you understand?”

Jace blinked at her, disbelief evident on his face, and made no move to reply.

“Do you understand?” the Inquisitor said again, her voice louder and even more harsh if that was possible.

Finally, Jace nodded once. “I understand perfectly, ma’am. Is there anything else?”

“No, carry on with your regular duties.”

With that, the connection to Alicante faded out, and the silence grew thicker as more Shadowhunters continued to join the group in Operations.

Magnus was trying to comprehend how Alec could be gone. It had been just that morning that Magnus had wished him well as Alec left the loft to head to the Institute. How could this have happened? There were rules in place, laws even, for the legal process. They had to have skipped most of them to execute him so quickly. His breath caught in his throat, and he closed his eyes, thinking of the last moment he’d had with Alexander.

An urge to visit the Core room had him standing and walking to the elevator before he even realized he was moving. Magnus stopped in his tracks, wondering where that idea had come from when he just wanted to head back to the loft and bury himself in the bed that would still smell of his lover.

The elevator doors closed shut behind him a moment later, and Magnus blinked. “What is happening?” he asked aloud, though no one was there to hear him. He had boarded the elevator without being consciously aware of it.

Was this something to do with the shared bond he had with Alec?

At that thought, Magnus quickly unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and began rolling his sleeve back. It hadn’t occurred to him to check, but if their Alliance bond had been broken with Alexander’s death, then surely the rune would also have vanished.

But it was still there, perfectly intact, and the golden sheen gleamed on his skin. Alec hadn’t been sure why the rune was golden instead of the more typical black, but it hadn’t even started fading yet. Whether or not it ever would fade was another question altogether.

Magnus swallowed as the elevator doors opened and hope flared like a beacon in his heart. Could Alec have survived his execution somehow? Magnus didn’t know much about the Clave’s execution practices, but he’d heard it involved fire.

He stepped off the elevator and hurried to the Core room, still feeling pulled along, but willingly this time.

The doors slid open, and Magnus stopped. He reached out to brace himself on the door frame as he stared at the sight that greeted him.

His Nephilim was lying naked on the floor of the Core room. All of his runes had taken on the same golden sheen as the Alliance rune.

Magnus pushed off the door and hurried over to Alec’s form, dropping to his knees with a thud as he reached out to touch Alec’s shoulder carefully.

“Alexander?” he asked quietly.

The skin under his hand was warm and alive. As he made contact, the Angelic Core flared brightly for a moment, and Magnus had to shield his eyes. But when he looked back, Alec had started to stir.

“Magnus?” he croaked. “What happened?”

“I was hoping you could tell me that, dearest,” Magnus said and reached out to brush his hand through Alec’s hair. “Do you want to sit up?”

“I’m naked.”

His joy at having Alec in front of him, talking to him, and stating the obvious came out in the form of a slightly hysterical giggle. “Oh, my dearest. We can fix that.”

Alec slowly got his hands under him and pushed himself to a seated position with Magnus’ help. With barely a thought, Magnus dressed Alec in his favorite comfortable sweatpants and t-shirt, things he usually wore when relaxing with Magnus around the loft. Magnus didn’t know how he was feeling, so he opted for comfort over anything else.

“They told us you were executed,” Magnus breathed, reaching out to hold Alec’s face in both of his hands and gently bringing their foreheads together. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

For a moment, Alec didn’t respond. Magnus could hear his breathing speeding up, though, and it was clear that, whatever had happened, it had been unpleasant. Finally, Alec spoke.

“I was strapped to a chair in the Gard. The Brothers were trying to break the bond,” he shook his head and glanced at the Core for a moment. “But the Core…saved me, somehow. They were going to derune me when they couldn’t get the bond to break, and the Brothers said I probably wouldn’t survive. They were planning to execute me anyway, so it didn’t matter if I died, apparently, just so long as the bond was broken.”

“Oh, my love,” Magnus whispered, and he pulled Alec into a tight hug. He couldn’t have forced himself to let go if he tried, so he didn’t bother. “I’m so sorry that happened. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he murmured.

Alec shook his head. “You wouldn’t have been able to do anything, though, Magnus.” Pulling away slightly, he looked at Magnus with a solemn expression in his eyes. “They’d already found me guilty. They took me right out of the portal room as soon as they arrived. I’m glad you weren’t here. I don’t know what I would have done if they’d taken you, too.”

Alec scoffed and looked away. “Actually, I do know. I wouldn’t have been able to do a thing. I was completely useless.” He swallowed and looked back at the Core. “I have no idea what happened or how I ended up here, but it’s thanks to Ithuriel that I’m alive.”

The doors slid open again, and Jace and Isabelle rushed into the Core room. They stopped in shock when they saw Magnus and Alec on the floor.

“Alec!” Isabelle whispered in disbelief. She quickly joined the pair on the floor. “How?”

Jace entered the room more slowly, staring at Alec as if he’d seen a ghost. “They said you were dead,” he whispered and kneeled next to the trio on the floor. Jace rested a hand on Alec’s shoulder as if he needed the touch to prove that Alec was actually there in front of him.

“I’ll explain what I know,” Alec said, tilting his head to rest it on top of Isabelle’s. Magnus was still holding onto him. “What brought you down here?”

Jace started and quickly pushed himself back to his feet. “The Core was giving off strange readings, and the Alicante portal froze,” he said and moved over to one of the consoles.

Alec got a faraway expression on his face for a moment. “Yeah. The Core sealed us off from Alicante…”

Jace stepped away from the console and turned to look at Alec again. Izzy sat back to do the same. Magnus gripped one of Alec’s hands tightly, unwilling to lose contact again.

“What do you mean?” Jace asked, frowning.

“It’s part of something Raziel said to me at the lake,” Alec said, looking towards Magnus for a moment. They hadn’t divulged all of the details of what had happened yet. “The angels aren’t happy with the Clave. Apparently, they’ve strayed too far from the Covenant, and this was the tipping point.”

“Raziel said?” Isabelle asked eyebrows high on her forehead in astonishment.

Alec nodded. “Valentine tried to make the Wish, but what he asked for was a major violation of the Covenant, and Raziel smote him.” He frowned. “I’m not actually sure how I know that, but it’s what happened.”

“All right,” Jace drawled. “What does that have to do with the Core sealing off the portal?”

“We’ve separated from the Clave,” Alec said with confidence. “And we have a new mission. We’re going to restore the Nephilim to the path Raziel intended for us as protectors of the whole Shadow World, not just part of it.”

Alec started pushing himself unsteadily to his feet, and all three of the people who loved him most helped him. He smiled at them gratefully. Determination was shining forth from Alexander as he continued speaking.

“We have so much work to do.”

---