The Red Scrolls of Magic

“Oh.” Aline sounded crushed.

Helen seemed to be working something out in her head. “But after this big mission, I could use a rest. I can probably arrange to stick around the Rome Institute for a while longer.”

“Really?” Aline whispered.

Helen stopped and looked at her squarely. Alec and Magnus tried to pretend they were somewhere else. “If you mean it like I think you mean it,” said Helen. “If you mean a real date. With me.”

“Yes,” said Aline, clearly abandoning any idea of playing it cool. “Yes, yes, yes, a real date. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Helen Blackthorn. And you fight like poetry. When you talked about your family, you made me want to cry. So let’s get coffee, or dinner, or we could go on a weekend trip to Florence. Wait, no, or I could say something more suave and sophisticated than that. I’ll read some romantic books and learn to phrase things better. I’m so sorry.”

She looked mortified.

“Why are you sorry?” Helen asked. “I liked that.”

“Yeah?” asked Aline. “Do you want to get breakfast?”

“Well, no,” said Helen.

Aline looked dismayed. “I messed it up. When did I mess it up?”

“I just meant,” Helen said hastily, “let’s get lunch instead. That way, we can get back to the Institute first and clean up. I have ichor between my fingers.”

“Oh.” Aline paused. “All right. Fantastic! I mean, okay.”

She began to outline elaborate plans for lunch. Alec did not know how she was going to pull together a jazz combo in three hours, but he was happy that she looked so happy—her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Helen must have thought she looked more than just happy, because when Aline paused for breath, Helen leaned over and kissed her.

It was a quick brush of lips against lips, a gentle kiss. Aline smiled into it, then cupped Helen’s elbow and drew her in close. The sunlight just beginning to glow at the horizon caught the Penhallow ring on Aline’s finger and made it shine as she brushed Helen’s hair away from her face, kissing her over and over.

Alec said, in a low voice, “I hope this works out for them.”

Magnus said, “I thought they were already together. Cute couple. Ladies, I hate to interrupt, but Leon Verlac is headed this way.”

Helen and Aline broke apart, both smiling. There was an unusually surly expression on Leon’s normally bright face as he hove into view. He was shoving Bernard ahead of him.

Bernard’s hands were tied, and he was protesting furiously. “You can’t do this to me! This is all Magnus Bane’s fault!”

“Like we’re going to believe a word you say,” Leon sneered.

“I am the leader of the Crimson Hand, its dark and charismatic overlord, the power behind the throne but also the one meant to be sitting in the throne. I refuse to be treated like a common criminal!”

Leon Verlac glanced over his shoulder at Helen and Aline, and then at Alec and Magnus. Alec stared back at him blankly.

“Yeah, well,” said Leon, and gave the dark and charismatic overlord of the Crimson Hand another push. “We’re all having a tough day.”

Aline gave Magnus and Alec a grin of slow-blossoming delight. “I guess that’s the ‘leader of the Crimson Hand’ issue sorted.”

“Who’d ever have thought I’d be glad to see Leon?” Helen wondered.

“I think we should make a pact,” said Alec. “We all four keep what we know about the Crimson Hand a secret. In fact, I’d prefer if we didn’t mention any of this to anyone in New York. Not ever.”

“Wise,” Aline remarked. She was still pink about the cheeks, her hand in Helen’s. “If Jace and Isabelle find out we had all this fun without them, they’ll kill us.”

Helen nodded. “The four of us never met here. This never happened. Look forward to meeting you sometime, Alec. For the first time.”

If Alec’s dad heard anything about the cult and Magnus’s past, he would make the same assumptions Helen had, only worse. Alec didn’t want that to happen. He still believed that if his dad got to know Magnus, he would end up seeing what Helen and Shinyun had learned to see, what Alec had seen almost from the very first.

Of course, his dad might be pleased to hear that Alec had been a big help on a mission in Rome. The leader of the Crimson Hand had been captured, and they had put an end to the cult and the terrible ritual. It really was possible that the Rome Institute was going to commend all three of them on a job well done.

But compared to Magnus, the approval of his father—of anyone in the Clave—didn’t matter at all. Alec knew who he was. He knew what he had done and what he had fought for, and he knew what he would fight for in the future.

And he knew exactly who he loved.

The dust was settling, and the rays of the sun were growing ever stronger, brilliant white lines of light that washed the new day clean. The makeshift amphitheater, the stone seats of the audience, and the villa that had been the Crimson Hand’s last stronghold were all in ruins under what looked like it would be a clear autumn day.

Alec surprised himself by laughing out loud.

He held out his hand and found Magnus’s waiting for him.



EPILOGUE