The Red Scrolls of Magic

Alec rolled them both to the side. A black tentacle slammed into the place they had just been. The tentacle rose to strike again. Magnus shot into a sitting position and threw up his hands, a beam of blue fire slicing across one of the whipping tentacles. Black ichor sprayed as the demon jerked the injured tentacle back.

Magnus rose to his feet. Alec started to get up, but a wave of dizziness struck him. The effects of the iratze rune were almost entirely gone, and the Raum poison was again a corroding agent within his veins.

“Alec!” Magnus shouted. His hair was wild in the wind whipping across the train’s roof. He hauled Alec to his feet even as the smoke demon moved toward them once again. “Alec, what’s wrong?”

Alec felt for his stele, but his vision was fading. He could hear Magnus calling his name, hear the approach of the demon. There was no way Magnus could both help Alec and fend off the demon at the same time.

Magnus, he thought. Run. Protect yourself.

The smoke monster lunged, just as a dark shape threw itself between the demon and Alec and Magnus.

A woman, her dark cloak and dark hair whipping in the wind. In one hand she gripped a three-sided sword. It gleamed under the moonlight.

“Stay back!” she shouted. “I’ll take care of this.”

She waved a hand and the smoky demon gave a long crackling squeal, like the sound of wood breaking as it was burned.

“I’ve seen her before,” Alec said, wondering. “It’s the woman I fought at the Shadow Market in Paris. Magnus . . .”

Another bolt of sick, poisonous pain coursed through him. His vision dimmed. He felt as though he was being beaten, struck in the stomach, his legs cut out from under him.

“Magnus,” he said again.

The sky began to fail, the stars blinking out one by one, but then Magnus was there, catching him. “Alec,” he was saying, over and over, and his voice wasn’t at all like Magnus’s voice, which was cool and dismissive and charming. It was ragged and desperate. “Alec, please.”

There was a heavy weight on Alec’s eyelids. Everything in the world wanted him to shut them. Alec forced them open, to catch one final glimpse: Magnus hovering above him, his strange lovely eyes the last light Alec had left.

Alec wanted to tell him that it was all right. Magnus was safe. Alec had everything he wanted.

He tried to lift a hand and touch Magnus’s cheek. He could not.

The world was so dark. Magnus’s face faded and, like everything else, was swallowed by the now starless night sky.



CHAPTER NINE



* * *



Shinyun



DEMONIC ACID HAD DESTROYED HALF their compartment. In fact, the entire train had suffered a great deal of damage, which had been concealed from the mundane staff and passengers with a clever combination of glamours and dropped words about partying European royalty.

Magnus was regrowing the wood frame, and incidentally doing a little redecorating, when he heard Alec stir. It was only a tiny movement beneath the covers, but Magnus had been waiting for it all night.

He turned in time to see Alec stir again. He hastened over to sit on the side of the bed.

“Hey, gorgeous, how are you feeling?” he murmured.

Alec reached out his hand, his eyes still closed. It was a mute but trusting gesture—the gesture of a boy who could always count on loving hands and loving voices when he was sick or injured. Magnus remembered when he himself had turned up at the Institute, summoned there to heal Alec from demon injuries. Isabelle had been in a panic, Jace pacing the halls, white-faced.

It had reminded Magnus of times long ago, the memory of Nephilim he had cared for once, and how very much they had cared for each other. Knowing the way Will and Jem loved each other had changed his feelings for Nephilim, and seeing Jace—calm, superior Jace—in pieces over Alec had made him like the boy much more.

Now Alec’s hand was outstretched to him, and Magnus took it like the offer of trust it was. Alec’s skin was cool. Magnus pressed his cheek to their joined hands, closing his eyes for just a moment, letting his relief that Alec was all right wash over him. Alec’s skin had been hot with fever for a while there, but Magnus was very experienced in treating the Nephilim.

Since Shadowhunters, however loving, were all reckless lunatics.

Of course, Alec had been a reckless lunatic in the cause of saving Magnus’s life. He thought of Alec balancing atop the train car as it hurtled around twisting mountain passes, his clothes wet, his skin smeared with blood and dust. It was heartbreaking and hot, all at once.

“I’ve been better.” Alec’s bedsheets were damp from sweat, but color was returning to his face. He sat up and the blanket slid down to his bare waist. “I’ve been worse, too. Thanks for healing me.”

Magnus sat up and hovered his free hand over Alec’s chest. A faint blue glow expanded from his palm and shimmered before disappearing through Alec’s skin. “Your heartbeat is stronger. You should’ve asked me to take care of that poison immediately.”

Alec shook his head. “If you recall, an octopus demon was carrying you away.”

“Yes,” Magnus said. “About that. I deeply appreciate you saving my life. I’m very attached to my life. However, if it comes to a choice between your life and mine, Alec, remember I have already lived a very long time.”