The Lost Book of the White by Cassandra Clare

CHAPTER FIFTEENThe Lady of Edom

ALEC WONDERED FOR A MOMENTif he was dreaming, as Shinyun descended through the space where once a rose window had been set.

He had seen her floating, arms extended, framed in the empty circle, and thought she was a statue for a moment. There was a statue outside the rose window of the real cathedral in the real Shanghai, he remembered.

But then she came floating in and Jace let out a long, frustrated groan. Alec knew how he felt. Had their escape, their daring fall from the bridge, been pointless, if Shinyun could just casually meet them shortly after they arrived?

Sometime during their descent from the bridge, Magnus’s eyes had fluttered back in his head and closed. The three Shadowhunters had panicked, preparing to plummet freely downward, but luckily the spell had held. As the tenebrous shapes of Diyu’s mirror of Shanghai grew more distinct below them, they had seen the cathedral. It was exactly St. Ignatius’s shadow: every detail the same but with all color drained out of it, a picture in washes of dark grays and blacks. It was, thankfully, not literally upside down.

Magnus’s protective cloud had brought them to a landing on the church grounds next to one of the transepts, the side arms of the massive cross that formed the overall shape of the building. There was a small side door there, and they helped Magnus inside and arranged him on one of the carved wooden benches they found. Once he was at rest, the magic faded from his palms, and he breathed steadily, as though asleep.

They hadn’t been inside the real cathedral, but the interior of the shadow cathedral was sufficiently cathedral-like that Alec thought it was probably laid out the same way. It was strange to go from the eerie inhumanity of Diyu to the very distinct humanity of a Catholic church; at first glance they could have been in France or Italy, or even New York. Only once they walked around, and saw the elaborate wood carving of the pews, the distinctly Chinese tile running down the middle of the nave, did the unique character of Xujiahui come across. Except, Alec realized, for any holy symbol, or saint, or angel, which were missing. There were empty niches and picture rails all over where such things must have been in the original cathedral, but here they had been wiped away. Apparently Yanluo hadn’t been a fan. Alec supposed Sammael wouldn’t be either.

Returning to Magnus, Alec found him still breathing steadily and, to all appearances, napping. He put his hand on Magnus’s shoulder and gave it a little shake. When Magnus didn’t react, he gave him a slightly harder shake. He tried to be careful—startling Magnus didn’t seem wise either—but no amount of speaking Magnus’s name or touching him invoked any reaction.

“Come on, wake up,” Alec said urgently. He jiggled Magnus’s knee.

“We could throw some water on him,” suggested Clary.

“I don’t think there’s any water,” said Jace. “Maybe Magnus can conjure some up. Some food, too.”

“If we can wake him up,” said Clary.

“Wake up!” Alec said again, and then they heard the rustle of movement and turned to see Shinyun descending toward them through the blank hole where a window should have been.

She landed lightly, her elongated limbs folding under her, giving her an eerie insectile appearance. Jace drew his spear, and Clary her dagger. Alec continued to nudge Magnus, more and more desperately.

“I don’t want to fight,” Shinyun called out. Nobody moved to put their weapons away.

She approached, and they stood their ground. “Is Magnus… asleep?”

“It’s been a long day,” said Alec dryly.

“He suffers without the third thorn,” she said.

“He’d choose to die.”

“It’s very interesting,” said Shinyun, “how many people choose not to die, when the final decision comes.” She eyed them. “It’s usually because they worry about the effect it will have on others.”

“Not a problem for you, I guess,” said Jace.

“No,” she agreed. “I understand the nature of power too well to allow myself the kind of sentimental attachments that tether most people to the world. A world that will fail them, in the end.”

“You’re wrong,” Magnus said faintly.

Alec helped him sit up. He blinked his eyes, larger and more luminous than they had been, so familiar to Alec and yet becoming more alien with every passing hour.

“You’re wrong,” Magnus said again. “Those so-called sentimental attachments—they are where strength comes from. Where real power comes from.”

“It amazes me,” said Shinyun, “that you would think that, even after living four hundred years. After outliving so many. Knowing you’ll outlive all of them.” She gestured at the Shadowhunters.

“Not at this rate,” Magnus said lightly, gently running a hand down his front, as if checking to make sure all his organs were still inside.

Shinyun ignored this. “You know that time is a cruel joke, that it takes everything from us eventually. Time is a machine for turning love into pain.”

“But there’s so much fun to be had on the way,” murmured Magnus. He shook his head. “You can say it prettily, but that doesn’t make it true.”

Shinyun sighed. “I didn’t come here to argue philosophy with you, Magnus.”

“I didn’t think you did,” Magnus said. “I guess I assumed you came here to taunt us and lecture us.”

“No,” said Shinyun, a frown in her voice. “I came to tell you where to find your friend Simon.”

“WHY IN THE WORLD,” SAIDMagnus, “would you do that?”

He had been embarrassed, when he came to, that he had fallen into some kind of trance. Already the memory of his dream was fading from his mind, and he could remember only tiny snippets: Raphael Santiago’s legs dangling from his kitchen counter. Max holding up his arms to help Alec put his shirt on. Blood trails on the rug.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Shinyun said.

Alec folded his arms. “Then you’ll understand why we wouldn’t trust anything you’d tell us.”

“Would you trust anything we tell you?” Magnus added.

“I would,” said Shinyun, “because you are all so painfully without guile that you think telling me the truth will somehow win me over. Like I will have no choice but to respect your integrity and high principles.”

“Aw,” said Magnus, “you know you respect my integrity and high principles secretly.”

Shinyun let out a long and annoyed groan, a strangely expressive sound coming from her motionless face. “Do you want to know where your friend is or not?”

“Not unless you tell us why you’re offering your help,” Jace said.

“Because I am annoyed,” said Shinyun flatly.

“Annoyed at us? Annoyed at Simon?” said Magnus.

“Annoyed at Sammael,” Shinyun snapped. “For months every moment has been dedicated to his grand master plan, the ultimate payoff for all the work he’s done, all the work I’ve done, and then you show up and he becomes totally distracted by some stupid petty grievance.”

“You mean Simon?” said Clary, aghast. “So Sammael grabbed him when we first came through the Portal? What is Sammael doing to him?”

“And why Simon?” demanded Alec.

“They’ve definitely never met before,” said Jace. “I know Simon goes to some weird parties in Brooklyn, but it’s still impossible.” He glanced at Clary. “It is impossible, right?”

Shinyun threw up her hands. “Ragnor and I are trying our best to implement his schemes for the invasion of the human world, running around this dank pit like lunatics, ordering demons around who are not the most responsive underlings—”

“Yes, yes, hard to find good help these days,” agreed Magnus hurriedly. He stood up, testing his legs. He was fairly steady; it seemed he had already recovered from the outpouring of magic he had committed on their way down to the cathedral. Recharged by the thorn? He couldn’t know. “What is the Father of Demons doing to Simon and why?”

“He has shut himself into some random torture chamber to torment one Shadowhunter who is in no way a direct threat to him. It’s ridiculous. It needs to stop.”

“Agreed,” said Clary immediately. “Point the way.”

“So you’re going to take us to save Simon,” Alec said, making sure he fully understood, “so that Sammael stops being distracted and gets back to the business of destroying the world.”

“Yes,” said Shinyun. “Take it or leave it.”

“Wait,” said Magnus. “I need to ask you something first.”

Shinyun cocked her head a little to the side. “Oh?”

Magnus hated to ask Shinyun any questions about himself, his thorning, his current state. He had no reason to believe her answers, for one thing. And she would use it as an opportunity to lecture him again. But he didn’t understand what was happening to him, and behind that incomprehension lurked fear.

“You said I was suffering from the thorn,” he said, “but that’s not true. I’m getting stronger. My magic is getting more powerful. I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand?” said Shinyun.

Magnus said, “I don’t understand how, without a third thorning, I die. If you ever had the slightest fleck of mercy in you,” he pleaded, “you have to explain. So at least I know what will happen. Will I suddenly weaken? Will I wither away?”

“No,” Shinyun said. “You will simply take on more and more of the thorn’s power without being fully bound to its master. Your magic will grow stronger, and wilder, and less in your control, and you will become a danger to yourself and the people around you. If they don’t abandon you, they’ll surely die themselves.”

Magnus stared.

“So I’ll feel better and better and better,” he said. “Until I suddenly feel much worse?”

“No,” said Shinyun. “Until you suddenly feel nothing. That is why everyone takes the third thorn. The choice is no choice at all. Now, shall we go get your friend?”

A glow emerged from her chest, the same red as Magnus’s magic. With the ease of a master painting a line, she drew a Portal in the air with her index finger. It opened on a chamber of black obsidian spikes. In the background, a pool of something red bubbled. “Hmm,” she said. She gestured with her finger, and the view through the Portal changed. Now they were looking at a huge white stone plate toward which a gigantic millstone descended. “Not that, either.” She gestured again and then again, flipping through different destinations.

“Hell of Iron Mills… Hell of Grinding… Hell of Disembowelment… Hell of Steaming… Hell of the Mountain of Ice… Hell of the Mountain of Fire…”

“Lots of hells, huh,” said Magnus.

“Can we hurry this up?” said Alec.

Shinyun gave them a withering look and kept browsing.

“Hell of Worms, Hell of Maggots, Hell of Boiling Sand, Hell of Boiling Oil, Hell of Boiling Soup with Human Dumplings, Hell of Boiling Tea with Human Tea Strainers, Hell of Small Biting Insects, Hell of Large Biting Insects, Hell of Being Eaten by Wolves, Hell of Being Trampled by Horses, Hell of Being Gored by Oxen, Hell of Being Pecked to Death by Ducks—”

“What was that last one?” said Jace. Shinyun ignored him.

“Hell of Mortars and Pestles, Hell of Flensing, Hell of Scissors, Hell of Red-Hot Pokers, Hell of White-Hot Pokers, ah! Here we are.” Through the Portal seemed to be a limestone cave, dense with stalactites and stalagmites, a great mouth of fangs. Loose iron chains lay scattered across the ground like a nest of sleeping snakes.

“What’s that one called?” Alec said.

“No idea,” said Shinyun. “Hell of Wasting Time Torturing Someone Unimportant. Go through before I regret this.”

They kept their weapons at the ready and passed single file through the Portal into the cave.

The interior of the cathedral had been dank and musty, but cool. By contrast, the cave was scorchingly hot, and dry like the inside of an oven. Magnus followed Alec, Jace, and Clary as they picked their way around the stalagmites jutting from the ground toward an open area a little distance away. He noticed, to his mild surprise, that Shinyun had followed them through the Portal and trailed behind them.

After a short walk Sammael came into view, pacing back and forth, hands behind his back as though he were deep in thought. Magnus looked around, but it took a moment before he was able to spot—

“Simon,” Clary whispered, her voice a dry thread.

In the center of the clearing, Simon hung, spread-eagle. His wrists were manacled to iron chains that stretched to the ceiling of the cave, his ankles similarly chained to great iron hasps sunk into the ground. Only as Magnus got closer did he see that being chained up was the least of Simon’s problems.

A dozen sharp blades hung around Simon, hovering in the air. They whirled and shifted, now random, now in patterns—clearly operating at Sammael’s will.

Simon had several slashes across his body already, and as they watched, one of the knives lurched at tremendous speed and cut across his arm. He winced, his eyes closed, but Magnus could see he was using all his energy to hold himself very, very still, as the other blades danced inches from him.

Besides the suspense, Simon must already have been in tremendous pain, but he was silent, his jaw set, even as blood dripped down his skin. His eyes had opened wide when Clary cried out: he stared at his friends now, almost blindly, as if he feared they might be a dream.

Sammael turned and started, but as if pleasantly surprised. “You’re just getting the full tour of this place, huh?” he said. “I don’t know, I like some of it, but Yanluo and I have a very different design sensibility. Luckily, this is only a temporary situation until I move to your world and take that as my realm.”

Clary lunged at Sammael; Jace caught at her arm, hauling her back. Her teeth were bared. “What are you doing to Simon?” she snarled. “What did he ever do to you? You’ve never even met him before.”

Sammael laughed heartily. “What a question! No, this gentleman and I hadn’t met before earlier today. I noticed him coming through the temporary Portal my warlocks opened at the Sunlit Market and had him brought here. Because, you see, I know of him. I know a lot about him. We’re just getting started knowing each other now.”

Clary called out, “Simon, are you all right?”

Without changing his tone, Sammael said, “Simon, if you answer her, I will put out your eye.”

Simon, wisely, remained silent, and Magnus realized that Sammael really was just getting started. Cutting Simon up a little, threatening him with whirling magic knives, wasn’t Sammael’s torture. It was an appetizer. An amuse-bouche. This was Diyu. He could cut Simon up for a good long while before he moved on to worse things.

Sammael scowled at Simon, and Magnus was surprised by the look of real, pure hatred that crossed Sammael’s face. Magnus had begun to wonder if Sammael was so removed from being a person that he was more like Raziel—a force of will beyond understanding, incapable of human emotions like pettiness or spite. He had thought that maybe Sammael was less like a demon and more like a weather pattern, or a god, too monumental and too unearthly to be comprehended.

But now he realized he had been wrong. Sammael was in every way capable of human hatred. In every facet of his expression, he hated Simon.

“I know that he was not always of the Nephilim,” said Sammael. “I know that he was born a mere mundane, but that he then became one of the Night’s Children. And in that form, he committed the greatest of crimes.

“He struck down Lilith, First of All Demons, Lady of Edom, and the only love I have ever known in all my long existence.”

Clary gasped. Alec said, “Oh,” very quietly.

With a flourish, one of the blades drew a red line across Simon’s stomach. Clary winced violently. Magnus was horribly impressed with Simon’s ability not to cry out. In his position, Magnus was pretty sure he would be screaming.

“I don’t know how a mere vampire could have prevailed over her,” Sammael went on. “If I had heard the tale from anyone but the Lady herself, I would never have credited it. But it was she herself who told me. I was so close, so close to returning. I was drawing myself free of the Void. I had been searching for one who might find me a realm I could rule. And then, cutting across the worlds, I heard my beloved’s scream of rage. Her fury could have powered a universe.” He sounded admiring. “She cried out that she had been struck down. She was fading. She would be gone from the world for eons. The force of her rage revived me, sent me whirling back from the Void into these material realms, where things have form and meaning. I again had a living embodiment, and I vowed two vows.”

Magnus was listening, but he was watching Simon, who was following Sammael with his eyes.

“It was pain and rage that drove me from the darkness,” Sammael went on. “All I wanted was to be with Lilith again, but, irony of ironies, it was by her own passing that I was able to return.”

“I don’t think you’re using ‘irony’ correctly,” said Magnus. “Well, maybe it’s situational irony.”

Alec flashed him a look. But Sammael was on a roll and wasn’t paying any attention to them.

“My first vow was to finish what I started; to rain fire and poison upon Earth, to lead the armies of demons to whom this universe truly belongs by right. My second was to see the murderer of Lilith conquered, and to see him suffer for what he did.”

Simon spoke thickly. “It wasn’t my intention—”

Sammael interrupted. “I’m not surprised this one would try to talk his way out of his just punishment, but honestly, I really thought he would come up with something better than ‘I didn’t mean to defeat the mother of all demons, it was an accident.’ I suppose,” he said, “she tripped and her heart fell directly onto the end of your blade.”

“Something like that, actually,” said Clary. “It wasn’t Simon’s fault. It was my fault, if it was anyone’s.”

Sammael rolled his eyes. Before he could speak again, Shinyun interrupted. “My Lord Sammael,” she said. “I respect your need for closure, but this seems like too small a task for someone of your stature and importance. We have a war to plan, troops to muster.”

“Plenty of time for all that,” Sammael said, waving his hand dismissively. “Once I have had my fill of satisfaction from this creature’s pain.”

“You won’t be satisfied,” Simon said. “Eventually you’ll have mashed me into paste and then what? You still won’t have your girlfriend back.”

“Why can’t you just leave him to be crushed to powder with the rest, when our hordes flood Earth in blood?” Shinyun said. She sounded frustrated. “If you want to punish everyone individually who’s done something bad to someone you know, that’s going to take a very long time. Time we don’t have.”

Sammael sighed. “Shinyun, you know I hold you in high regard. You’re very good at organizing demonic forces, and you brought me Ragnor Fell. You have a great work ethic, and you seem to truly enjoy your job. But you don’t understand. You can’t understand. Only Lilith, perhaps, would understand, and I hope that somewhere, somehow, she sees what’s happening here and smiles.” His expression turned dreamy. “I do so miss her smile. And those snakes she has for eyes. They always liked me.”

“Yes, my master. I will try to understand.” Shinyun closed her eyes in acquiescence, but she did not seem happy.

“Now,” said Sammael, “neutralize Magnus until I’m ready for him, and give these others to the courts of Diyu for processing.”

“I thought you were going to let us wander around until we starved,” said Alec.

“I was,” said Sammael, “but apparently members of my staff have decided to arrange meetings for us during your period of starving and wandering. I was looking forward to thinking of you all sometimes, dying alone on a featureless rock in a world with no stars. It takes a lot of the pleasure out of it if I have to actually talk to you.” He shrugged. “So let Diyu decide where you end up. Have some torture for your troubles. They’re very good at it here, when you can get them to show up for work.”

Shinyun turned around to look at Magnus and the Shadowhunters. She gave a small shrug.

“What exactly was your plan here?” Alec hissed at Shinyun. “I assumed you had something better than just trying to talk him out of it. If he wouldn’t listen to you, why would he listen to us?”

Shinyun hesitated. “I thought he would be embarrassed.”

“I don’t think he embarrasses easily,” Magnus said. “Have you seen his hat?”

“Are you going to take us back to the courts?” said Jace, and Shinyun looked uncertain, but whatever she would have said, it was lost in a sudden tumult: the buzz of hellish magic, like a swarm of bees, and the roaring of water.

Before Magnus could see what had caused the ruckus, a long tongue of orange flame, straight as an arrow’s flight, appeared and sliced cleanly through the iron chains binding Simon’s ankles. Sammael looked up, unpleasant surprise blooming on his face. The knives stopped whirling and hung in the air, waiting.

The tongue of flame reappeared, cutting Simon’s arms free, and Simon fell with a nasty thump to the ground. He rolled over as best he could, considering that his hands were still shackled, and Magnus was relieved to note that he was still conscious.

Clary and Jace were running toward Simon, and Magnus was gathering his magic—he didn’t even yet know for what purpose—but Alec was standing dumbstruck, looking up with an expression of complete astonishment.

Through a Portal of storm clouds and rain had come Isabelle. She carried a blazing whip in one hand, and was riding on the back of a tiger. A very large tiger, even by tiger standards.

Magnus had to admit that even he was surprised.

The orange flame had been Isabelle’s: as Magnus watched, she reared back and struck again with the whip, whose length burst with fire.

Isabelle whooped a warrior’s cry as the gigantic tiger landed in the clearing and gave a roar that shook the very foundations of the cave. She dismounted from the tiger and ran toward the spot where Simon knelt, Clary beside him. She immediately joined Clary in trying to free Simon’s wrists and ankles from their shackles.

Then another figure came leaping through the Portal, and while Magnus would have guessed that “Isabelle Lightwood riding a giant tiger” would be the most surprising thing he would see that day, he had to admit that this was a close second.

Drenched to the bone, his hair and clothes matted to his body, Ke Yi Tian landed in a crouch on the ground. He straightened and ran directly for Shinyun, swinging the diamond blade of his rope dart in a tight circle as he ran. The glitter of adamas was a strange sight in this murky place, but Magnus found it oddly uplifting, even if he didn’t yet understand what was going on.

Shinyun raised her hands at almost the last moment, and Tian’s dart was deflected away, bouncing off a barrier visible only as a crimson smoke whose color Magnus was becoming familiar with.

Sammael had stepped back. Magnus had assumed he would soon start fighting, but he continued to hesitate. He was watching the tiger, Magnus noticed. Sammael turned to say something to Shinyun, and then with one finger drew a Portal in the air. It glimmered darkly, as though absorbing all the light from around it, very different from the Portals Magnus was used to seeing opened by warlocks. With a last look at the tiger, Sammael went through the Portal, but it didn’t close behind him. Instead, a stream of Baigujing skeleton warrior demons began spilling out of it.

Clary and Isabelle were unprepared to immediately start fighting, as they were busy freeing Simon, but the rest of them responded instinctively, pulling out weapons and readying themselves for battle. Jace clambered onto a nearby rock, his spear out, and leaped off it, directly onto the nearest of the skeletons. They both collapsed on the ground and rolled around, but Magnus couldn’t focus on what was happening there. Tian had begun striking the skeletons with his rope dart, and Alec had engaged too, his sword flashing.

A new skeleton was still emerging from the Portal every few seconds, so Magnus ran toward it, drawing red sigils in the air with his fingers as he went. He reached the Portal and began frantically to dismantle it.

Luckily, a Portal made by Sammael seemed not all that different from a Portal made by anyone else. Within a minute or so, he’d folded up the magic and closed it off.

Between Tian, Alec, and Jace, the last few skeletons were quickly dispatched. The tiger even took a swipe at a few, when they got close enough, but mostly it seemed content to let everyone else do the work.

When the last of the skeletons was gone, silence fell in the strange cave. Only Shinyun still remained, with her hands raised, keeping a magic barrier between her and the rest of them. Tian stalked toward her, spinning the dart at his side with murder in his eyes.

“Tian,” Alec said, approaching him, “she isn’t going to attack us.”

“I’m not,” confirmed Shinyun. “For the moment I have enough other problems.” She kept the barrier up, though.

Clary and Isabelle had succeeded in getting Simon free from the remainder of his bonds, but that didn’t mean he was in good shape. Blood was seeping sluggishly from Simon’s wounds. None seemed deep, but there were many. Isabelle was cradling his head in her lap, stroking his hair as Clary drew iratze after iratze. Alec was helping Jace up; one of the Baigujing had gotten in a good blow before Jace dispatched it, and his shoulder was bloody. He winced as he stood.

“Okay, Tian,” Magnus said, coming to join them. “So are you in league with Sammael, or not? I’m starting to get confused.”

“I’m not.” Tian shook his head. “And now he knows it. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to act on the knowledge I’ve gained, pretending to ally with him.” He nodded at Simon. “I knew that if you ended up in Diyu, Simon would be taken. And when Isabelle also went… it seemed the right time.”

“You knew Simon would be taken? And you let it happen?” Clary wasn’t looking very forgiving.

“You must have known what Sammael would do to him.” Isabelle didn’t sound too pleased either.

“I also have a lot of questions for Tian,” Alec said. “But maybe we should leave this particular hell first?”

“I’d like that,” said Simon. Isabelle and Clary were helping him upright. Many of his wounds were closing up, but he was still pale and shocked-looking. “It’s been a day.”

“It’s not over,” Jace said grimly, leaning against Alec’s shoulder. “I think my foot is broken.”

Alec took his stele out.

Shinyun said abruptly, “I am summoned. I go to speak with my master, who I am going to try to get back on track.” She looked around at all of them. “Why do you make everything so complicated?” she said, as if to herself, and then she vanished into the dark of the cave.

Alec, having runed Jace—the break was a bad one, pushing against the force of his iratzes like an insistent hand—put his stele away and glanced around. “Okay,” he said. “What’s with the tiger?” The tiger, who didn’t seem all that interested in anything going on now that Sammael and his demons had departed, had lain down and was licking its front paw with a massive pink tongue.

“Oh!” Tian went back over to the tiger and leaned down. “Thank you, Hu Shen,” he said in Mandarin. “The Nephilim of Shanghai owe you a favor.”

Hu Shen yawned and stretched, then stood up. He lay one enormous paw on Tian’s shoulder and gazed at him for a moment. Then he trotted away, disappearing into the depths of the cave beyond where they could see.

“A great faerie of legend, Hu Shen,” Tian said as they watched him go. “A guide for lost travelers. Sometimes it is useful to be on good terms with the fey.”

“Will he be all right?” Clary said.

Tian looked in the direction Hu Shen had gone. “Faeries aren’t bound by the same rules as the rest of us. And he’s been around much longer than any of us. Even you,” he added, nodding in Magnus’s direction.

Clary had gone over to Jace and was talking to him in a low voice, clearly concerned. Jace was standing on one foot, looking irritated, and using his longspear as a kind of crutch. “I really am fine,” he said, “but it might be a while before it’s healed. I won’t be too speedy until then.”

“No more wrestling skeletons today,” Alec said. “I hope.”

“I’ll be fine in a few hours,” repeated Jace. Magnus was entertained to see how annoyed he was at having suffered an injury, and how quick he was to change the subject. “What was that weapon you were using?” Jace asked Isabelle.

“Flame whip,” Isabelle said happily. Jace reached out a hand and she slapped it away. “Well, don’t touch it,” she scolded. “It’s hot.”

“I think we could all use a bit of time to catch up and heal our broken feet. And exchange information,” Magnus said. “Especially information about what game you’ve been playing, Tian.”

Tian had the courtesy to look chagrined. “I am sorry. I will explain.”

“Hey, guys?” said Simon. “Time to go? I’d really like to not be here anymore. You know, in the torture cave.”

Magnus thought that was an excellent idea. “I’ll bring us back to the cathedral,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

Tian’s eyebrows went up. “Xujiahui? I wondered if you’d get there.”

Magnus nodded and, with a wave of his hands, opened a Portal. It glimmered blackly, with the same uncanny light as the one Sammael himself had opened earlier. Magnus exchanged a look with Alec.

“That doesn’t look right,” said Clary, and Simon looked hesitant. But they could all see the interior of the cathedral through the Portal’s aperture, and none of them wanted to stay in the cave. There was nothing for it but to step through, and hope that Diyu and its masters would give them a moment’s rest. They all, Magnus could see, desperately needed it.