The Red Scrolls of Magic
“Joke’s on you, Shadowhunter,” said Bernard, speaking with his own voice now.
There was a ripple of laughter from the members of the Crimson Hand around him. Helen swung toward them, seraph blade shining in her hand—and tears shining on her cheeks. She’s crying for me, Alec thought with distant surprise. For me.
“Shut up,” she hissed. Their laughter died.
“I just think it’s really funny,” said Bernard. “He came here thinking he was a hero. Determined to bring down the enemy! But he can’t even find the enemy. He doesn’t know which one she is.”
Alec strung his bow, held it steady, and took aim.
“I don’t have to,” he said. “I know which one he is.”
Through the shining light of the pentagram, he let his arrow fly.
CHAPTER THIRTY
* * *
The Aftermath of Glory
MAGNUS WAITED FOR A BLOW that never came. With a sudden scream, Shinyun jerked back, an arrow embedded in her arm.
A familiar arrow.
“Alec!” With a cry, Magnus wrenched himself free. He rolled across the dirt, scrambled up on one knee. Another arrow passed over his head and toward Shinyun; he dove for the shadowy form he could dimly perceive through the shimmer of the pentagram and thrust his hand through the magical barrier, into the light.
Being able to put his fingertips outside the edge of the pentagram had turned out to be useful, after all.
Magnus felt a hand seize his. Alec’s hand, clasping his as Alec had twice before, in cold water, on the edge of a cliff, and now in a pentagram with the Greater Demon who was Magnus’s greatest fear. Take my strength, Alec had told him once, and Magnus, who had always had to be strong enough on his own, had been amazed. Power flowed into Magnus as, once again, Alec gave him his strength. Magic returned, warm and bright, terrifying and transformative.
Energy sang through his veins. The eerie light of the pentagram began to change. Magnus released Alec’s hand and turned to face his father.
“No,” Asmodeus called out, as though by his command he could reverse what Magnus had done. “Magnus, wait—”
Power exploded from Magnus, love and magic and angelic power all fused together, and the barriers of the pentagram shattered. The world around them returned, a chaos of fallen cultists and demons.
But Asmodeus could not. Even as his projection into the mortal world faded away into shadow, the Greater Demon Asmodeus, ruler of Edom and Prince of Hell, raised his arm, and a deep blackness began to expand from the pentagram’s center, drawing in the light.
The blanket of swirling clouds overhead cracked, and the vortex pulsed and wavered. It began to lose its form, and blinding-white and midnight-black light burst from the fissures in the sky. The earth buckled beneath their feet, and a black pit opened at the former pentagram’s center, its hungry mouth sucking everything toward its abyss. Magnus began to slide as the wooden platform crumbled beneath his feet like earth.
Magnus fell to his knees. The pull grew in intensity, tearing at every cell in his body. His nerves screamed, and he found himself clutching at the warped boards of the stage like a lifeline.
Next to him, Shinyun was doing the same. She cried out as the force of the whirlwind lifted her feet off the ground.
“Magnus! Grab my hand.”
Magnus could hear Alec’s voice through the falling barriers and hiss of dying light. He lifted his head, searching for him.
The ground beneath Magnus was crumbling away. Shinyun grabbed for him and screamed, her fingers clawed in his bloodstained jacket, as they both began to tumble into darkness—
They came to a jerking stop, dangling in midair. Alec’s hand had closed around Magnus’s wrist. Somehow he had lunged across the destroyed pentagram and the shattered stage: he was stretched out, half his body dangling over the edge of the abyss. He tried to pull Magnus up but the weight of Magnus and Shinyun was too great. He slid forward, gripping the edge of the abyss with one desperate hand.
Fear clutched at Magnus. Shinyun was still holding on to them. They might all fall together.
“Let go,” he shouted at Alec. “Let me fall.”
Alec’s eyes went wide. His fingers held Magnus’s wrist even tighter.
There was a swirl of movement behind Alec. The two Shadowhunter girls who had fought beside Alec appeared at the edge of the abyss. One reached down and grabbed hold of Alec, hauling him up. The other grabbed for Magnus. The abyss howled in despair as Magnus and Shinyun tore free of its pull and tumbled, along with Alec, onto the charred ground.
Then it vanished.
In the strange silence that followed, the two girls ran to seize hold of Shinyun and tie her wrists behind her; Shinyun made no move to resist. Magnus rolled to a sitting position, gasping, and realized he was still gripping Alec’s hand. He was still holding Alec—or more precisely, Alec was still holding him.
Alec was filthy, covered in dirt, with blood on his face and a wild look in his blue eyes. Magnus was vaguely aware that people were still running around in the distance somewhere and that Shinyun was being led away. But he could see only Alec. Alec, who had come here to save him.
“Alexander,” Magnus whispered. “I told you not to hold on.”
Suddenly Alec’s arms were around him, crushingly hard. Magnus swallowed a breath that wanted to be a sob and buried his face in the curve of Alec’s neck and shoulder. Magnus’s hands ran up Alec’s back and shoulders, touched the softness of the back of his neck, his dark hair, feeding on the reassurance that he was alive and well and real.