Dawn was starting to break.

The wedding party had lasted all night. Though many of the guests had staggered off to sleep in the Institute (or were carried off, protesting, by their parents and older siblings), a few still remained, huddled up on blankets, watching the sun rise behind the mountains.

Emma couldn’t remember a better celebration. She was curled up on a striped blanket with Julian, in the shelter of a tumble of rocks. The sand under them was cool, silvered by the dawn light, and the water had just begun to dance with golden sparks. She leaned back against Julian’s chest, his arms around her.

His hand moved gently up her arm, fingers dancing against her skin. W-H-A-T A-R-E Y-O-U T-H-I-N-K-I-N-G A-B-O-U-T?

“Just that I’m happy for Magnus and Alec,” she said. “They’re so happy, and I feel like one day—we could be happy like that too.”

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Of course we will be.”

His complete confidence spread warmth through her, like a comforting blanket. She glanced up at him.

“Remember when you were under the spell?” she said. “And I asked you why I took down all that stuff in my closet, about my parents. And you said it was because I knew who’d killed them now, and he was dead. Because I got revenge.”

“And I was wrong,” he said.

She took one of his hands in hers. It was a hand as familiar to her as her own—she knew every scar, every callus; she rejoiced in every splash of paint. “Do you know now?”

“You did it to honor your parents,” he said. “To show them you’d let go of it all, that you weren’t going to let revenge control your life. Because they wouldn’t have wanted that for you.”

She kissed his fingers. He shivered, drew her closer. “That’s right.” She looked up at him. Dawn light turned his wind-tangled hair to a halo. “I do keep worrying,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let Zara go. Maybe Jia and the Council should have arrested every Cohort sympathizer, like Balogh, not just the ones who fought. People like him are the reason things turned out the way they did.”

Julian was watching the ocean as it slowly lightened. “We can only arrest people for what they do, not what they think,” he said. “Any other way of doing things makes us like the Dearborns. And we’re better off with what we have now than we would be if we’d become like them. Besides,” he added, “every choice has a long afterlife of consequences. No one can know the eventual outcome of any decision. All you can do is make the best choice you can make in the moment.”

She let her head fall back against his shoulder. “Do you remember when we used to come down here when we were kids? And make sandcastles?”

He nodded.

“When you were gone earlier this summer, I came here all the time,” she said. “I thought about you, how much I missed you.”

“Did you think sexy thoughts?” Julian grinned at her, and she swatted his arm. “Never mind, I know you did.”

“Why do I ever tell you anything?” she complained, but they were both smiling at each other in a goofy way she was sure any bystander would have found intolerable.

“Because you love me,” he said.

“True,” she agreed. “Even more now than I used to.”

His arms tightened around her. She looked up at him; his face was tight, as if with pain.

“What is it?” she said, puzzled; she hadn’t meant to say anything that would hurt him.

“Just the thought,” he said, his voice low and rough, “of being able to talk about this, with you. It’s a freedom I never imagined we would ever have, that I would ever have. I always thought what I wanted was impossible. That the best I could hope for was a life of silent despair as your friend, that at least I would be able to be somewhere near you while you lived your life and I became less and less a part of it—”

“Julian.” There was pain in his eyes, and even if it was a remembered pain, she hated to see it. “That would never have happened. I always loved you. Even when I didn’t know it, I loved you. Even when you didn’t feel anything, even when you weren’t you, I remembered the real you and I loved you.” She managed to turn around, slide her arms around his neck. “And I love you so much more now.”

She leaned up to kiss him, and his hands slid into her hair: She knew he loved to touch her hair, just as he had always loved to paint it. He drew her into his lap, stroking her back. His sea-glass bracelet was cool against her bare skin as their mouths met slowly; Julian’s mouth was soft and tasted of salt and sunshine. She hovered in the kiss, in the timeless pleasure of it, in knowing it wasn’t the last but was one of the first, sealing the promise of a love that would last down the years of their lives.

They came out of the embrace reluctantly, like divers unwilling to leave the beauty of the underwater world behind. The circle of each other’s arms, their own private city in the sea. “Why did you say that?” he whispered breathlessly, nuzzling the hair at her temple. “That you love me more now?”

“You’ve always felt everything so intensely,” she said after a moment’s pause. “And that was something I did love about you. How much you loved your family, how you would do anything for them. But you kept your heart closed off. You didn’t trust anyone, and I don’t blame you—you took everything on yourself, and you kept so many secrets, because you thought you had to. But when you opened up the Institute for the war council, you made yourself trust other people to help you execute a plan. You didn’t hide; you let yourself be open to being hurt or betrayed so you could lead them. And when you came to me in the Silent City and you stopped me breaking the rune—” Her voice shook. “You told me to trust not just you but in the intrinsic goodness of the world. That was my worst point, my darkest point, and you were there, despite everything, with your heart open. You were there to bring me home.”

He laid his fingers against the bare skin of her arm, where her parabatai rune had once been. “You brought me back too,” he said with a sort of awe. “I’ve loved you all my life, Emma. And when I felt nothing, I realized—without that love, I was nothing. You’re the reason I wanted to break out of the cage. You made me understand that love creates far more joy than any pain it causes.” He tipped his head back to look up at her, his blue-green eyes shining. “I’ve loved my family since the day I was born and I always will. But you’re the love I chose, Emma. Out of everyone in the world, out of everyone I’ve ever known, I chose you. I’ve always had faith in that choice. At the edge of everything, love and faith have always brought me back, and back to you.”

At the edge of everything, love and faith have always brought me back. Emma didn’t have to ask; she knew what he was thinking about: their friends and family lined up before them on the Imperishable Fields, the love that had brought them back from a curse so strong the whole of the Shadowhunter world had feared it.

She placed her hand over his heart, and for a moment they sat in silence, their hands remembering where their parabatai runes had once been. They were bidding good-bye, Emma thought, to what they had been: Everything from this moment on would be new.

They would never forget what had gone before. The banner of Livia’s Watch flew even now from the roof of the Institute. They would remember their parents, and Arthur and Livvy, and all they had lost, but they would step into the world the new Clave was building with hope and remembrance mixed together, because though the Seelie Queen was a liar, every liar was truthful sometimes. She had been right about one thing: Without sorrow, there can be no joy.

They lowered their hands, their gazes locked. The sun was rising over the mountains, painting the sky like one of Julian’s canvases in royal purple and bloody gold. It was dawn in more than one sense: They would step into the world’s day from this moment onward without being afraid. This would be the true beginning of a new life that they would face together, in all their human frailty and imperfections. And if ever one of them feared the bad in themselves, as all people did sometimes, they had the other to remind them of the good.

EPILOGUE

The Queen sat upon her throne as faerie workmen swept in and out of the room.

Everything had changed. The color of triumph was gold, and the Unseelie King was dead. His favored son had become the Queen’s closest adviser and loyal friend. After so long immured in the ice of grief over the loss of Ash, the Queen had begun to feel alive again.