The Red Scrolls of Magic

“She didn’t have a choice,” said Magnus.

“She had the same choice as you.”

“She’s lost,” said Magnus. “She’s desperate. I was once all those things too.”

Alec’s tone was grave. “Magnus, we can ask the Clave to show leniency to her. But that’s all we can do, after everything she’s done. You know it is.”

Magnus remembered his father’s voice talking about the children of the Angel, born to righteousness. Maybe he only wished for mercy for Shinyun because he was so flawed himself. Maybe it was because she was keeping his secret, for now.

“Yes,” said Magnus. “I know.”

“Why are we even having this discussion?” Helen raised her voice, and as she did so, her voice cracked. “The whole Rome Institute is on its way by now! We all know that the Clave will have her executed.”

It was the first thing Helen had said in some time, and her voice shook. Aline studied her with some concern. Magnus did not know Helen well, but he was entirely certain it was not Shinyun’s fate that had upset Helen so badly.

“What’s wrong?” said Aline.

“I was trying so hard to do the right thing, but I got it all wrong. If it hadn’t been for you and Alec, I wouldn’t have come, and innocents would have died,” Helen replied in a curt voice. “That isn’t the kind of Shadowhunter I want to be.”

“Helen, you made a mistake,” Alec said. “The Clave tells us not to trust Downworlders. Despite the Accords, despite everything, we all get indoctrinated, and we—” He broke off, looking up at the clear, cold stars. “I used to follow the rules because I thought it would keep everyone I cared about safe,” he said. “But I’ve started to realize that ‘everyone I care about’ is a bigger group and a different group than the Clave was built to accept.”

“So what are you suggesting we do?” Helen whispered.

“We change the Clave,” said Alec. “From inside. We make new Laws. Better ones.”

“Institute Heads can suggest new Laws,” said Aline. “Your mother—”

“I want to do this myself,” said Alec. “And I want more than to be head of an Institute. I’ve realized—I don’t need to change. And neither do you, Helen, or you, Aline. It’s the world that needs to change, and we’re going to be the ones to change it.”

“The Shadowhunters are here,” Shinyun croaked unexpectedly. They looked at her. “Look.”

She was right. The Shadowhunters of the Rome Institute had arrived. They spilled through the gates, gaping around at the burning villa, the charred ground, and the cultists—some lying wounded on the ground, some ranging around—in their white suits.

The moment the cultists caught sight of the Shadowhunters, they began to run. The Shadowhunters gave chase. Bone-weary and exhausted, Magnus slumped against the wall of the villa and observed the shenanigans.

He couldn’t help noticing that Shinyun was watching them too. She had shrunk back against the pillar, but was still silent.

The Clave would kill her. The Spiral Labyrinth would not be inclined to treat her more kindly than the Nephilim. There wouldn’t be a lot of sympathy for a warlock who had murdered innocents and nearly summoned a Greater Demon prince into the world. Magnus could understand all that, and yet he was sorry.

Alec squeezed his hand.

A dark-haired Shadowhunter stalked toward their small group and began jabbering at Helen in Italian. Magnus gathered that she was Chiara Malatesta, head of the Rome Institute, and that she was both confused and annoyed.

Eventually Magnus broke into the conversation. “Helen is very brave,” he said. “She knew she could not delay if the ritual were to be stopped. I owe my life to her and to Aline Penhallow.”

“Hey,” said Alec, but he was smiling. Magnus kissed his cheek. Chiara Malatesta raised her eyebrows, then shrugged. Italians had a philosophical view of love.

“Warlock,” she said, in perfect English. “I recall you from some Council meetings, I believe. Quite a few of the cultists are wounded. Can you help us heal them?”

Magnus sighed and rolled up the sleeves of his abominable, hopelessly ruined white robe.

“This is partly my mess,” he said. “Time to clean it up.”

Helen and Aline agreed to join Signora Malatesta and the others as they swept the grounds for stray cultists and demonic activity. Alec remained to watch Shinyun—and, Magnus hoped, rest a little.

Dust hung thick in the air, turning the fiery explosions in the sky into hazy brightness as Magnus walked across shards of stone. Every time he found a wounded cult member, he thought of how Alec had come for him, and healed them as if he were Catarina.

Eventually he saw more Shadowhunters emerging from the smoke and fire. He tried to think of Alec and not of what would happen to Shinyun.

“Oh, hello,” said a Shadowhunter boy, coming to an abrupt stop beside him. “Magnus Bane? I’ve never gotten a good look at you, not up close.”

Magnus snorted. “I’ve looked better.” He gave some thought to his current state, bruised and battered and wearing a bloodstained, ill-fitting jacket. “Much better.”

“Wow,” said the boy. “Will my heart be able to take it? I’m pretty close with Alec, by the way. We were talking about making plans for later. You’d be very welcome to join us. We could do anything you like.” He winked. “Anything.”