The Lost Book of the White by Cassandra Clare

CHAPTER SIXTEENThe Phoenix Feather

THEY FOUND THE CATHEDRAL UNTOUCHED,and they set up camp in the apse, where the altar would have been in the real building. Here, of course, there was no altar, just an expanse of cracked white marble. Simon, Isabelle, Clary, and Jace perched on the marble steps that led down toward the pews, while Tian sat in the first row and Magnus leaned casually against a pillar.

Alec paced back and forth across the apse, restless and worried. Magnus had summoned some nourishment for them, which he had promised was safe—plain bowls of rice in broth, and capped thermoses of water. They didn’t taste like much, but everyone had wolfed them down anyway.

Though Alec would have liked it if Magnus could have been convinced to take more than a few bites. Instead, he was gazing at Tian, a shimmer of concentration in his gold-green eyes. “So, Ke Yi Tian,” he said. “What’s the story? With you and Sammael?”

With a sigh, Tian put aside his empty bowl, nodded once, and told his tale.

I WAS FIRST APPROACHED BYJung Shinyun and Ragnor Fell in the Sunlit Market, months ago. Already there had been mutterings in the Downworlder Concession about these two warlocks, neither of them locals, who had come from nowhere and instantly became regulars. The Shanghai Conclave took an interest, and since I knew the concession well, I began keeping an eye on them. What vendors were they visiting? What were they buying? Did they meet with anyone?

In retrospect, I think that they were surveying the Market itself, learning how well and in what ways it was surveilled and defended. So all my careful recordings of their purchases of bird entrails and quartz crystals were probably irrelevant. But at the time, they were only persons of interest, newcomers to keep an eye on.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, Jung and Fell were keeping an eye on me. And I’ve grown… incautious about my relationship with Jinfeng. I’m lucky enough to live in a place where Downworlders and Shadowhunters are on good terms, and Jinfeng and I are lucky enough that both our families approve of us. So where I should have been vigilant, I was unguarded. Vulnerable.

One day in the Market they found me in a dark corner. They told me they knew about Jinfeng and me, and that they could get me in trouble. I told them my family knew, that the Shanghai Conclave supported me. But then they spoke of the Cohort.

ALEC KNEW OF THE COHORT.Scattered among the Clave were a small number of Shadowhunters who not only thought the Cold Peace was a good policy, but believed that it was the first step toward the return of the ultimate supremacy of the Nephilim over all of Downworld. Where Valentine Morgenstern and his Circle had argued that only by making war on Downworlders could the Shadowhunters be “purified,” the Cohort took a more subtle approach, proposing new rules to restrict the rights of Downworlders, often in small, localized ways. The danger of the Cohort, as far as Alec was concerned, was not that they would start a new Mortal War, but that the rest of the Clave would allow them to make these small changes, not noticing the larger dangers until it was too late. As yet they were still a small faction, but Alec’s father kept a close eye on them, and there was a growing worry that their numbers were increasing, however slowly.

Tian and Jinfeng’s relationship was illegal, under the Cold Peace, and Alec knew that its discovery and exposure to the larger Clave could well bring down not just Tian himself but his family’s control of the Shanghai Institute, and destroy the careful balance that had been achieved in the city.

Tian took in the grim look on their faces and said, “I see you understand.”

Alec nodded. “Go on.”

Tian continued.

SOUTHWEST OF SHANGHAI, ONLY Ahundred miles or so away, is the city of Hangzhou. Its Institute is run by the Lieu family. The husband of the head of the Institute there is Lieu Julong, and while he is not officially a member of the Cohort, it is well known among the Shadowhunter families of China that he is sympathetic to their cause. It is also well known that the Lieus would seize upon any opportunity to damage the reputation of the Ke family, in the hope of gaining control of the Shanghai Institute for themselves.

Shinyun knew this. She spoke of Lieu Julong by name. She said that my family would be forced to turn me over to the Clave for violations of the Cold Peace, if they wanted to keep the Institute. I said that they would never do such a thing, but in my heart I knew I would never allow them to lose their influence and their positions because of what I had done.

I asked the warlocks what they wanted of me. They wanted information—about the Institutes of China, their defenses, the number of Shadowhunters in each Conclave, the relations between the Shadowhunters and Downworlders in those cities as I understood them. I provided it all to the best of my understanding. I told myself that I was not giving away any crucial secrets, that all of this was knowledge they could find out on their own, even if I refused to help.

A month passed, perhaps two. Jung and Fell continued to be frequent visitors to the Sunlit Market, and one day they again waylaid me. They took me to a cellar on an anonymous street in the concession, where they’d set up a kind of office and laboratory.

The moment I saw their headquarters, I knew I was in terrible danger. They made no attempt to blindfold me or otherwise hide their work from me. And their work was as terrible as you would think. What I saw in a single glance there was enough of an Accords violation to sentence both warlocks to languish in the Silent City for eternity. I assumed they had brought me there to kill me.

Instead they told me everything. That their master was Sammael, Father of Demons, that they were working to bring him back to Earth to resume the war that had been delayed a thousand years ago when he was defeated by Michael. And that now I, too, worked for him.

I said no, of course not, I would never. And they said, you will, or we’ll tell your family that you’ve already provided us with intelligence about Shadowhunters, their numbers, their strengths, their weaknesses. You are already a spy for Sammael, they said. You only have yet to admit it to yourself.

MAGNUS LOOKED AGHAST. “THE FEATHERin Sammael’s hat,” he said. “It’s a phoenix feather, isn’t it? Is it Jinfeng’s?”

Alec didn’t know the finer points of faerie magic, but he knew the feather of a phoenix gave you power over that phoenix. Tian shook his head violently. “No. No. I agreed that I had no choice but to do as they asked. Their next request was the feather of a phoenix—they obviously wanted me to betray Jinfeng, so that I would fall deeper into corruption. Instead I took Jinfeng into my confidence—the only person other than you here who knows the whole story—and she brought me a phoenix feather from the tomb of one of her ancestors. I told Jung and Fell that it was hers.”

He looked around. “You understand, I thought I would take advantage of the situation. I was allowed into Diyu and began to learn its layout, its structure, its rules. I thought, at least this could be useful to me, if I ever find a way out of this trap.”

“It was useful,” said Isabelle. Alec looked at her, and she looked back, her dark eyes clear and shining. Simon, who was leaning his head on her shoulder, smiled up at her. “The Jiangshi took me through to yet another court, and there was an old guy there with kind of a melted face? He yelled at me in Mandarin for a while, and when I didn’t say anything, he opened a panel in the wall and sent me through.”

“Which hell did they send you to?” said Alec.

“The Hell of Silences,” Isabelle said.

“Could be worse,” Jace said. Alec thought of the Hell of Boiling Soup with Human Dumplings.

“It was the top of a tower, a little platform surrounded on all sides by a thousand-foot drop onto metal spikes,” Isabelle said conversationally. “They hung me from a chain and strapped a metal rod around my neck, with spiked forks at both ends. One end poked into my throat, the other into my chest, so if I spoke, or even nodded my head, I would be impaled on both. Demons watched over me and laughed while I struggled.”

“Oh,” said Jace.

Simon drew Isabelle even tighter to him.

When Alec had first met Simon, he would have laughed uproariously at the suggestion that his sister would someday hold on to him tightly, that she and Simon would find affection and reassurance in each other. Of course, at that time he would have laughed at the suggestion that he and Magnus Bane would be raising a child together too. They had all changed so much, in such a short time.

“I was only there for a few minutes,” Isabelle went on. “Tian found me. The demons watching over me let him get close, and then, uh, then a giant tiger showed up and killed them.”

“Once Sammael’s eye was no longer on me, I called upon Hu Shen for assistance freeing Isabelle,” Tian put in.

“That must have been so cool,” murmured Simon.

“I made sure we brought the tiger,” Isabelle said. “I knew you’d be disappointed if you missed it.”

Simon kissed her on the cheek. She blushed a little—very unlike Isabelle, Alec thought with amusement. Very unlike Isabelle most of the time, anyway.

“You know the rest,” Tian said. “Sammael’s probably planning to spend today moping around Diyu, complaining about how terrible it is and ordering his two warlocks around. And now he knows I’m his enemy too.”

“Believe me,” said Simon wearily, “when Sammael decides to be demonic, he has no trouble bringing the evil.”

Alec nodded. He had been startled by his first meeting with Sammael; he had been so friendly, and so unthreatening, but the sight of Sammael’s face as he sliced up Simon’s body had reminded him of who they were dealing with. “He’s still the most dangerous thing here.”

“He also seems to have a strange interest in you, Magnus,” put in Tian. “I suppose it’s because you were thorned by Shinyun, but it seems to me if he wanted more warlock minions, he could probably find willing ones.”

Magnus shrugged. “I guess I’m already here?”

“So Sammael is here preparing,” said Clary, “but what’s he preparing for? What’s his plan exactly?”

“Sammael is prevented from entering Earth by wards put in place by the Archangel Michael long ago,” said Tian. “As near as I can tell, he’s got Jung and Fell working on finding something in the Book of the White that will let him get around the wards.”

“Is that possible?” said Jace. “Is there something in the Book of the White that could do that?”

They all looked at Magnus. “Probably,” Magnus said grimly. “Yes. No wonder the Portals on Earth are all malfunctioning. Sammael’s minions have been fiddling with the walls that keep dimensions separate.”

“So why haven’t they figured it out yet?” said Clary.

Tian looked thoughtful. “It seems to me that Sammael thought Diyu would be a much better source of power. It used to be, under Yanluo, of course; by design it is a dynamo that transforms human suffering into demonic power. But the machinery has been broken for almost a hundred and fifty years. Not only is it difficult for Jung and Fell to draw on its power to fuel their magic, but the demons who used to run Diyu have grown used to freedom and chaos. Sammael can’t whip them into shape by himself.” He shook his head. “Shinyun thinks that with enough power granted by the thorn, she could hold the entire host of Diyu under her magical compulsion, but she isn’t there yet.”

“So we have a little time,” said Alec. “Are we safe here?”

Tian nodded. “Sammael doesn’t think we’re any real threat, and he’s dependent on his underlings to keep Diyu under observation. Demons don’t like coming to churches, even in demon Shanghai.”

“Okay,” said Jace. “So what’s the plan? Rest up and then go after Sammael?”

“Or go after Shinyun and Ragnor,” said Clary. When she saw Magnus’s face, she said, “We can’t let them figure out how to allow Sammael to enter our world. We just can’t.”

“Would getting the Book away from them stop Sammael’s plans, though?” said Simon doubtfully.

Tian shook his head. “It would delay them, but they would find some other solution, I’m sure. There’s a lot of dark magic in the world.”

“We still can’t just leave it with them,” Clary said. “Or leave things the way they are.”

“Okay,” said Alec. “So where do we find the Book? Or Sammael? And Sammael, rather?”

Tian looked uncertain. “He doesn’t really have a home base here. He wanders all over the realm.” He adopted a confidential air. “He’s kind of a micromanager.”

“Then what?” said Jace, frustrated. “Back to the iron bridge? Back to the courts? Demand to be taken to him?”

“We draw him out,” said Magnus. “Use me as bait.”

“No,”said Alec instantly.

“Shinyun has some weird thing about me and the thorn,” Magnus said. “She’s been taunting me since this whole thing started, telling me that in the end I would choose to take a third wound from the Svefnthorn rather than die. If I go somewhere and make a lot of noise, demand to speak to Shinyun, she’ll show up. From there we can get to Sammael. Or he’ll get to us.”

“No,”Alec said again.

“It can work!” Magnus said.

“Magnus,” said Alec, “what happens if she actually thorns you again? You’ll fall under Sammael’s control. And then it’s all over. For… everyone,” he added quietly.

“She won’t,” said Magnus. “She can’t. I have to choose the third wound, and I won’t do that.”

“But you’ll lie to her and say you will,” Alec said.

Magnus actually smiled a little, clearly pleased at how well Alec knew him. “Right. Then she’ll probably want to do some complicated ritual with a bunch of chanting, you know her. She’ll light a million candles. It’ll take forever. Plenty of time for our attack.”

Alec’s heart was beating too fast. “What if she doesn’t? What if it doesn’t?”

“Alec,” Jace said carefully. “I don’t think we have a better idea. Magnus is right. The rest of us, we can just stay in the cathedral until we die of starvation, as far as Sammael or his minions are concerned. They don’t think we can really do anything to disrupt their plan. We can kill some demons, sure, but two thorned warlocks and a Prince of Hell? We’re just some foot soldiers in the faceless infantry of the opposing army.”

“He’ll find out he’s wrong about that soon enough,” said Isabelle.

“I mean, yes,” said Jace. “Fine point from Isabelle. But when Sammael met Magnus, he tried to recruit him. He offered him Shinyun’s job! Magnus is the only one who can get their attention, who might be able to defend himself if one of our three buddies attacked.” He nodded toward Simon. “Sorry, no offense intended.”

“None taken,” Simon said with a weak smile. “I’m not really at a hundred percent right now.”

Alec didn’t know what to say. A terrible thing was going through his mind, an anxiety he had never really felt before, or allowed himself to feel. A conversation with Max, a horrible conversation, about how Magnus wasn’t going to be back, how it was just the two of them now. A risky plan, a long-shot plan, but we thought it would be fine.…

“We’ll all have eyes on Magnus while this is happening,” said Jace. As usual, he knew Alec well enough to read the trepidation in his eyes. “He’ll never be in any real danger. We’ve fought off Shinyun before, we can again, and Magnus is right—he’d have to choose the thorn this time. That’s why she hasn’t bothered to try thorning him since we’ve been in Diyu.”

Alec sighed. With an effort, he decided to wait on the morbid fantasizing and focus on the moment at hand. “Okay, okay. I agree it’s probably our best bet.”

“So now what?” Clary said.

Simon yawned. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use some sleep. It’s been a long day for me—dim sum, the Market, being hung from chains and lacerated with magic flying knives. I know that’s a normal weeknight for most of you, but I’m pretty worn-out.”

“Also, my foot bones need to knit,” said Jace. “And I don’t suppose you know where we could find some better weapons,” he added to Tian.

“Flame whip!” said Isabelle.

“More flame whips would be acceptable,” allowed Jace, “though they’re not my first choice.”

Tian said, “As a matter of fact…”

AT THE END OF ONEof the transepts was a small room. It was obviously a private chapel in the real cathedral, but here, of course, all signs of religious practice were missing, so it echoed emptily as Tian led Alec, Jace, and Clary into the center. Jace hopped along with his spear as a cane, keeping his weight off his foot. Magnus had come along too, Alec thought in order to let Simon and Isabelle have a little time to themselves, not because he cared at all about weapons. Alec stood against the wall and watched with vague interest while Tian got down on the ground and knocked on a few of the stone floor tiles, listening. After a few false starts, he reached down and carefully lifted the largest tile out of the floor, revealing a chamber below it framed in wood. In the chamber was a pile of oilcloth bundles.

“It’s nothing like you’d find in the real cathedral,” said Tian apologetically, “and they won’t be runed, so you can hurt demons, but you’ll need to make the kills with seraph blades. But…”

Jace made a happy noise. Tian started retrieving the bundles from the chamber.

Alec said quietly, “Tian, why didn’t you tell us that you had been forced to work for Sammael? You trusted us enough to tell us about Jinfeng.”

Tian looked at Alec with surprise. “I would think that was obvious. I knew you wouldn’t disapprove of a relationship with a Downworlder, but there was always a chance that the connection between me and Sammael could get back to the Clave and they’d step in, and Jinfeng would be harmed. My family might be harmed too.”

Clary snorted. “What?” said Tian.

“It’s just… we’re the ones who keep stuff from the Clave,” she said.

“It’s true,” said Alec. “We’re not exactly known for keeping the authorities up to date on our plans.”

“For instance, we didn’t tell the Council we were coming to Shanghai,” agreed Clary. “I thought we had an understanding.”

Tian looked amazed. “Alec, your father is the Inquisitor. I think I’ve trusted you all quite a lot considering I only met you yesterday. Wow, today has been a long day.”

“He’s got a point,” said Jace. With the handle of his spear, he had pushed the oilcloth aside, uncovering a two-handed sword with an immense broad curved blade, like a cross between a scimitar and a machete. He gingerly nudged the tip with his good foot. “As does this. Clary? Dadao?”

Clary took it and went to the other end of the room, where she stepped through a few two-handed sword forms, her bright red braid whipping around her head as she spun through a series of forward cuts, ending with the sword elegantly held downward. She flashed them a smile. “I like it.”

Jace was staring. Alec patted him on the shoulder.

“There’s something about a tiny girl with a gigantic sword,” Jace murmured.

Clary came back over. Jace visibly restrained himself from grabbing her and kissing her, and instead went back to the pile of weapons at their feet.

“It just bothers me,” Alec said to Tian. “The distrust, the secrets. Mine, yours.” He furrowed his brow. “The Shadowhunters are supposed to be this ironclad institution, the bulwark between humans and demons, the first and last line of defense. But instead we’re just riddled with secrets. I used to think it was just me and my friends who were keeping things from the Clave, but you know what I’ve realized? Everyone is keeping things from the Clave.”

“Are you saying I should have trusted you more?” Tian said, sounding nettled. “Even though I’d just met you?”

“Yes,”said Jace, and both Alec and Tian turned to see what he meant, but it turned out he’d just uncovered a weapon—two hardwood sticks linked with a length of iron rings. One of the sticks was clearly a handle, while the other was much shorter and was covered all over in short iron barbs. He looked up at them with glee. “Morning star.”

“Okay, that’s definitely a flail,” said Clary.

“Let me have this one,” Jace said. “It’ll be good in case I have to fight before my foot heals completely. I can spin this around and keep demons off me.”

“You’re not useless in a battle with a broken foot, you know,” Clary said. “You’re good at strategy and tactics.”

Jace shook his head, smiling. “We all know the main thing I have going for me is my sumptuous, lithe physicality. Without that,” he added, “who am I?”

Clary rolled her eyes. “You are the guy who figured out how to break us into Sebastian’s fortress in Edom. For one thing.”

“Sure,” Jace said, “one thing.”

Clary smiled. “Remember, your most sumptuous muscle is your brain.”

Tian watched this interaction with amusement. “I don’t think you should have trusted us more, by the way,” Alec said to him. “Any more than we would have trusted you with all of our secrets after such a short time.” He sighed. “It’s just… it’s getting worse, among Shadowhunters. Less and less trust. More and more secrets. I don’t know how far the system can bend,” he added, almost to himself, “before it breaks.”

Jace turned up a surprisingly decent horn bow, with curved, double-bent ears, and a quiver of arrows. He offered it to Alec, who took it but said, “I’m going to give this to Simon. I’ve got Black Impermanence, after all.”

They headed back down the transept toward the nave, their feet echoing on the stone floor. Magnus broke the silence unexpectedly, his voice low and steady. “My father is a Prince of Hell, Asmodeus,” he said to Tian.

Tian stopped walking and blinked at him.

“It’s just something I think you should know,” Magnus said. “Before we go into battle with Sammael. He’s mentioned me being an eldest curse a few times. And Jem said Shinyun was after Tessa because she was an eldest curse. It makes me think it matters to them, who my father is.”

“Oh,” said Tian. He thought about this for a moment. “What does that mean for our plans?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Magnus said. “Maybe nothing. Maybe Sammael thinks there’s some power he can extract from me. Or maybe he thinks he’s some kind of uncle to me. I just—like I said, I thought you should know.”

He started walking again, and after a brief hesitation, the rest of them did too. Alec saw Jace and Clary exchange troubled looks.

“That’s terrible,” said Tian. “I mean, for you.”

Magnus looked at him with surprise.

“You never asked to have a Prince of Hell as your father,” Tian said. “And now it probably means you’ll have Greater Demons and Princes of Hell bothering you… well, forever.”

“Regularly,” agreed Magnus.

“What can you do about it?” Tian said.

“Nothing,” said Magnus. “Live my life. Protect my family.”

“Be protected by your family,” Alec put in.

“And friends,” added Clary.

They walked in silence for another moment. “Thank you,” said Tian. “For deciding you trust me enough to tell me. I will tell no one.”

They turned toward the apse, where Simon was gazing out one of the windows at the nothingness outside. Isabelle was at the other end of the room.

“It’s up to you to decide if you need to tell anyone,” said Magnus. “To decide who you would trust. That’s how trust works.” He paused. “Also, Jem knows and would be happy to answer any questions about it. He’s got some experience in this area.”

As they approached the apse, it was obvious that Isabelle was not happy. She was watching Simon from across the room, her brow knitted in worry. Her arms were folded tightly over her chest.

“Izzy?” Clary called.

Alec wanted to go to Isabelle, his instincts for protecting his sister kicking in, but he was still awkwardly holding the bow and arrows he’d found, so he went to give them to Simon first. Jace went with him, for which Alec was grateful. Magnus and Tian hung back uncertainly.

“Simon,” Alec offered as they approached. “I found you a bow.”

“Great,” said Simon, without turning around. “A souvenir. Let’s go home.”

Alec and Jace traded looks. Jace spoke first. “What are you talking about, Simon?”

“I want to go home,” said Simon. “You should want to go home too.”

“Of course we want to go home,” said Alec cautiously. “But we can’t go yet. Sammael still has the Book of the White, and we need to—”

“We’re all back together,” Simon said dully. “We’re all safe, for the moment. There’s no reason to stay here.”

“We don’t have a way back,” said Alec. “We’ll need to find one.”

“So let’s find one,” said Simon in that same flat tone. “That should be the plan. Find a way to leave. Then leave.” He looked up at Jace hopefully. “Come back with reinforcements. You love reinforcements.”

“Magnus is still in danger,” Alec said. “We have to figure out how to deal with the Svefnthorn.”

“Well,” said Simon, “maybe it would be easier to find a solution somewhere other than literally in Hell.”

Clary was walking over with Isabelle. She looked wary. “Simon,” she said. “This isn’t like you.”

“This isn’t even your first trip to a hell dimension,” Jace pointed out.

Simon turned around now, and Alec had expected to see tears, given the tone of Simon’s voice. But there were no tears. Instead Simon’s face burned with barely contained rage.

“It’s too much,” he said quietly. “It’s too much gambling with people’s lives.” He wouldn’t look at them. “With all your lives.”

“Simon…,” said Clary again. “We’ve been through so much already and we’re okay. You’ve been undead, you’ve been invulnerable. You’re one of the only people alive to have seen an angel, and you’ve been in the presence of two different Princes of Hell. You killed Lilith!”

“The Mark of Cain killed Lilith,” said Simon in a colorless tone. “I just happened to be there.”

“Being a Shadowhunter—” Alec began to say, but to his surprise, Isabelle stopped him with a glare.

Simon lifted his head. He looked lost, distant. “We went through the Portal, gambling we’d be able to get back. You gave yourself to the demons,” he added to Isabelle. He sounded sick. “You were gambling you’d be able to get away. Tian pretended to betray us. Gambling he’d be able to save Isabelle once Sammael wasn’t watching him.”

“But that all worked out,” said Jace. “I mean, I guess we don’t know how we’ll get back from Diyu yet, but given all the Portals everywhere…”

“It’s too much gambling,” said Simon. “You can’t win every time. Eventually you lose.”

“But not yet,” said Alec.

Simon glowered. “In May,” he said, his voice shaking, “I watched George Lovelace die screaming. For no reason. He drank from the Mortal Cup and he burned and he died. He was no different than me. No less worthy of Ascension. If anything, he was more worthy than me.”

No one spoke.

“It was the final lesson of the Academy,” he said quietly. “Shadowhunters die. They just… die for no reason.”

“It’s a dangerous job,” said Jace.

“George wasn’t doing anything dangerous,”Simon ground out. “He didn’t die in a noble act of sacrifice; he didn’t die because a demon got the better of him. He died because sometimes Shadowhunters die, and it isn’t for anything. It just is. That was the lesson.”

“Isabelle was rescued,” said Alec. “You’re rescued. Tian is okay.”

“This time!” Simon laughed. “Yes, this time it worked out. What about next time? And by the way, next time is tomorrow. How do you do it?” he said, looked around at them helplessly. “How do you risk yourself and everyone you love, over and over again?”

Isabelle went to Simon and put her hands on his shoulders. He looked up into her eyes, searching for something there. Alec knew what he himself would say: that this was the gig. That being a Shadowhunter was a high and lonely task, that being chosen for such a purpose was a gift and a curse, that its risk was precisely why it was so important, that he had fought with Simon for years now and Simon was definitely, obviously worthy of being one of the Nephilim. He thought of Isabelle, her ferocity, her intensity, her commitment, and he expected her to say something like what he himself would say.

But she didn’t. Instead she put her arms around Simon and hugged him tightly. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know. It doesn’t always make sense, my love. Sometimes it makes no sense at all.”

Simon made a low, choked sound, and buried his head against Isabelle’s neck. She held him there, still and silent.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“He has to understand,” Alec said very quietly.

Isabelle gave a tiny nod of her head. “He does understand,” she said. “Just—give us one second, okay?”

Clary bit her lip. “I love you, Simon,” she said. “I love you both.”

She turned and walked away, and the others followed: as Simon’s parabatai, in an odd sort of way, it was Clary’s call. Alec could hear Isabelle murmuring softly to Simon, until they had moved far enough away that the sound disappeared.

“Isabelle’s right,” Clary said, once they had returned to the nave. “Simon knows—he’s just hurting. It’s only been a few months since he lost George.” She leaned against one of the stone walls. “I wish I could do more. Be a better parabatai. Fighting alongside someone you love isn’t just about fighting more effectively. It’s also about supporting each other when things go wrong.”

“We know exactly what you mean,” Alec said, looking at Jace. “And you are a good parabatai, Clary. Watching you and Simon together—”

“It’s like seeing the two of us,” Jace said, indicating himself and Alec. “Strength and beauty. Perfect harmony. Skill and intuition, exactly matched.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “Are you strength or beauty?”

“I think we all know the answer to that,” said Jace.

“You really are a very strange group of people,” observed Tian.

Jace grinned. Alec knew he’d been trying to lighten the mood, and he’d succeeded. “Maybe we should find somewhere to sleep. I thought I saw some larger benches, down the other transept.”

“How will we know to wake up?” Alec said, realizing. “It’s not like the sun’s going to rise down here.”

Clary perked up, drawing her stele. “Let me see your arm,” she said. Alec held it out and she scrawled a shape he hadn’t seen before onto his arm, a circle with a number of radiating arms of different lengths curving in a spiral from its center. Clary counted under her breath as she drew it, then said, “There. Something I’ve been working on. Alarm rune. It’ll go off in seven hours.”

“Or you could use your phone,” said Jace.

Clary shrugged. “Runes are more reliable. Also cooler.”

“The Alliance rune is still your best work,” said Alec, smiling.

“They can’t all be world-savers,” said Clary. “Sometimes you just need to wake up on time.”

“No, I mean, it’s the thing you were talking about,” said Alec. “It lets us share our strength with each other. Not just our strength—our vulnerabilities, too.”

Clary looked over at Magnus and then back at Alec. She smiled a little, though she was still clearly worried about Simon. “Well… I’m glad I could give that to you.”

Jace took her hand, drawing her close. His arms went around her. Clary laid her head against Jace’s shoulder, and he closed his eyes; Alec knew what he was feeling, for he felt it himself, whenever he was with Magnus. That inner wonder at the enormity of love, how the joy of it was so intense it was nearly tinged with pain. Jace rarely spoke of his feelings, but he didn’t need to: Alec could read them on his face. Jace had chosen Clary to love, just as Alec had chosen Magnus, and he would love her forever and with his whole heart.

Jace brushed his lips against Clary’s hair and released her; she took his hand. With a crooked smile, Jace mouthed “See you” to Alec, and headed off with Clary into the dark shadows in the depths of the cathedral.

“I suppose I should bid you good night as well,” Tian began, then paused. Isabelle and Simon had descended the steps into the nave. They were holding hands, and Simon looked a little abashed.

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Alec. “You said it yourself. It’s been a day.”

Tian and Magnus stepped back a bit, giving Alec a moment with his sister and Simon. Alec thought he saw the tracks of recent tears on Simon’s face. It didn’t make him respect Simon any less; in fact, he thought, he might respect him a little more.

Simon looked at him steadily. “I think I just have to get used to not being invulnerable anymore. It’s not like being a vampire—or having the Mark of Cain—was a nonstop party, but it was a nice insurance policy. That’s gone now.” Simon straightened his shoulders. “I signed up to fight,” he said. “I wanted to be a Shadowhunter so much. So now I am, and now I fight. It would be great if you didn’t have to constantly work to preserve the things and the people you love, but… you do.”

“That’s being a Shadowhunter,” said Alec.

Simon shook his head. “No, that’s being a person. At least as a Shadowhunter my work involves exotic travel and awesome hand-to-hand combat.”

Isabelle kissed him on the cheek. “Never doubt that you are a badass, sweetie.”

“See?” said Simon. “My life rules. My girlfriend has a flame whip! That’s a true statement I just made.”

“You two get out of here before my brotherly instincts kick in,” Alec said, and the two of them went off to find someplace private to rest.

Alec looked around and saw Magnus engaged in conversation with Tian. Magnus had White Impermanence free of its sheath, and Tian was speaking intently while gesturing to it. Curious, Alec went to join them.

Magnus looked up as he joined them, and Alec was startled yet again by the changes in him. His face seemed narrower, his features sharper. His eyes glowed luminous green in the dim light. There was something hungry in his look, like a vampire who had not fed in a long time.

Alec knew that hunger was for the Svefnthorn’s third strike, and he shuddered. It was easy to celebrate that they had saved Simon, that Tian hadn’t betrayed them, that he had rescued Isabelle. That they were, at this instant, out of harm’s way. It was easy to assume that they would find some solution for Magnus, some way to draw the thorn out of him, some loophole in the magic. But Simon was right: Sometimes things went bad. Sometimes there was suffering. Sometimes there was death. It was too late for Ragnor, for Shinyun, but what about Magnus?

Tian said, “May I see your sword?”

Alec shrugged and drew Black Impermanence. He handed it to Tian, who held the two swords next to one another and examined them.

“Do you know what it is you’re wielding?” he said to both of them.

Alec thought. “Gan Jiang and Mo Ye… they said they weren’t swords—they were gods.”

“They’re clearly swords,” said Magnus. “Alec has been cutting through demons with his all day.”

“They also said they were keys,” said Alec.

Tian rolled his eyes. “They like being cryptic, Gan Jiang and Mo Ye. I guess they think it’s their prerogative, given their age. I don’t know what it means that they’re keys,” he admitted. “But they are gods. I meant to talk to you about it before…” He trailed off, not saying, before Sammael revealed that I was working for him. “But if we’re heading toward a confrontation… you should know something of what they are. They may be our strongest weapon in this place.”

“Maybe this is a stupid question,” said Alec, “but if they’re swords, how are they also gods?”

“The Heibai Wuchang,” said Tian, “were a god in black, and a god in white, and long ago, they were responsible for escorting the spirits of the dead to Diyu. There are hundreds of stories about them, from all over China, but they are from long before the Nephilim, so we have no idea which, if any, are true.”

“All the stories are true,” Alec murmured to himself, and Magnus heard and quirked his mouth in a small smile.

“The faeries say that the Heibai Wuchang grew tired of being constantly bothered by mortals, who sought them out to ask for their wishes to be granted, and they retreated into these swords.” Tian shook his head. “I don’t know what it means that we have brought them back to their original home in Diyu, but if the smiths thought it was wisdom to do so, they must have had a reason.”

“Maybe they thought the swords could hurt Sammael?” Alec suggested.

“Maybe they unlock a door and then we kick Sammael through it?” Magnus offered.

Tian said, “I don’t know. I just thought that you should know what it is you’re wielding. Who you’re wielding.” He held up the black sword and handed it back to Alec. “Fan Wujiu. Meaning: there is no salvation for evildoers.” He handed the white sword to Magnus. “Xie Bi’an: be at peace, all those who atone.”

“Some disagreement between the two of them, I see,” Magnus said.

But Tian shook his head. “I don’t think so. In some stories they are referred to as one being. Whatever they are, they are supposed to be in balance with one another.”

“Aw, just like us,” Magnus said, winking at Alec.

Alec did think of himself and Magnus as in balance, at least under normal circumstances. But was that still true? The thorn had invaded Magnus’s body, had thrust him in the direction of its will—of Sammael’s will, Alec reminded himself. Magnus was still Magnus, of course, but he was changing, and they didn’t know of any way to change him back.

Alec strapped Black Impermanence—Fan Wujiu—back on and said to Tian, “Thanks. Now I’m prepared just in case my sword suddenly turns into a dude.”

Tian said, “You never know.” He looked out on the open space of the cathedral stretching behind them. “We should get some rest. This may be our only chance for it before we have to go back to the fight.”

“There aren’t going to be a lot of comfortable places here for shut-eye,” said Magnus.

Tian said scornfully, “We’re Shadowhunters. We can manage to rest even in the depths of Hell.”

He made his way down the steps and disappeared deeper into the church. Alec turned to Magnus and said, “Shall we find a place to sleep too?”

“Let’s,” said Magnus, a small gleam in his eye.

THE OTHERS HAD GONE TOthe far ends of the cathedral’s main floor, it seemed, so Magnus directed Alec downstairs, into the vaults. Magnus lit a globe of light to guide them down the stone steps and into a small room off the hallway that extended the length of the building. The globe of light was bright and scarlet, and washed the color from Alec’s face as he walked next to Magnus, quiet and seemingly lost in thought.

The room was probably an office, in the real cathedral, but here in Diyu it was just another empty box, with a marble floor and whitewashed stone walls.

“Cozy,” said Alec. “Do you think you could summon some comfy blankets?”

Magnus cocked an eyebrow. “From where, exactly? I got the rice and water from offerings to the dead, but the pickings are slim down here for luxury items.”

Alec shrugged. “The… Hell of Comfy Blankets?”

Magnus thought. “I could… summon one of those nine-headed birds and we could try to pull off its feathers? No, they probably wouldn’t smell very good. Wait.”

“What?”

Magnus giggled to himself and summoned himself a blanket from the one place in Diyu whose occupant he knew would prioritize a pleasant sleep experience.

A red brocade duvet popped into the room, in a puff of crimson smoke. It was lined with gold tassels.

“Is it a coincidence,” said Alec, “that the duvet is the same color as your magic?”

“I… don’t know,” said Magnus.

He summoned a couple of pillows as well. Alec looked pleased.

They settled themselves down on the ground and placed themselves in their usual sleeping positions. Strange things, sleeping positions, Magnus thought. They get set at the beginning of a relationship, when nobody is thinking about it, and then they are set forever. But now it was true: if Magnus was in bed, as long as Alec was lying directly to his right, there was something of home, wherever he was.

“Before you put out the light,” Alec said.

Magnus waited for the rest, but when it didn’t come, he said, “Yes?” Alec looked hesitant. “What is it?” He was beginning to be a little alarmed.

“Before you go tomorrow… to be bait.”

Magnus blinked a few times. “Are you having trouble finishing your thoughts?”

“No,” said Alec, sounding put out. “I think we should use the Alliance rune.”

“What Alliance rune?”

“The Alliance rune,” Alec said. “Clary’s Alliance rune. That allows a paired Shadowhunter and Downworlder to share power.”

Clary had invented the Alliance rune three years ago, in the Mortal War, to give Shadowhunters and Downworlders the ability to fight as a pair, sharing their skills and their strengths. Magnus vividly remembered the eve of battle years ago. He’d been jangling with nerves, the prospect of death on the battlefield before him, and he’d felt heavy with sorrow. He’d told this young Shadowhunter he loved him, but he didn’t know how that Shadowhunter truly felt about him, whether their relationship could endure or whether it was as impossible as he feared.

He’d watched the rune forming on his own skin, the intricate lines and curves of an angelic rune something he never would have thought he would bear.

But now—now it was Magnus’s turn to say, “No.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” insisted Alec. “You should take some of my strength. I should take some of the burden of the thorn.”

“We have no idea what it would do,” said Magnus. “What it would mean for you to take some of this weird magic. It’s connected to Sammael somehow, and you’re full of, you know, angel magic. You might explode.”

Alec blinked. “I probably wouldn’t explode.”

“Who knows what could happen? Neither of us is exactly an expert on this particular magical artifact.”

“Still,” said Alec mulishly. “I think we should do it.” When Magnus didn’t say anything, he added, “If I’m going to let you go out there and demand to be attacked, at least let me share some of the burden with you.”

Magnus looked into Alec’s eyes. “If something happens to me,” he said very quietly, “Max will need you.”

“If we put the rune on and something’s going wrong,” said Alec, “we’ll scratch it out. It’ll be fine.”

Magnus sighed. “I have to give in on this,” he said, “because I said ‘it’ll be fine’ about the bait thing and you agreed, right?”

“There are some who would consider that a valid argument, yes,” said Alec.

Magnus stretched out his arm. “Okay. Why not one more totally irresponsible thing before we close out the day?”

Alec drew the strokes of the rune with attentive care, and Magnus felt the same wonder as he had years ago, the same calming of fear. On the eve of battle, amid the darkened spin of a strange infernal city: it made no difference where they were. They would fight and live and die together.

As Alec finished the last loop of the rune on his own skin, Magnus watched him carefully. After a moment he said, “How do you feel?”

Alec looked uncertain. He lifted his arm up and held it out for Magnus to see. The Angelic Power rune on the inside of his forearm was glowing, a dark but definite red color.

“That’s new,” he said.

“Other than that?”

Alec waited. “Nothing,” he said. “I feel fine.” Experimentally, he drew a quick Awareness rune on the same arm, just a simple loop and line. They both watched it for a long moment, but it just seemed to be a regular rune, behaving normally.

“It seems to be okay,” said Magnus.

“It does,” murmured Alec. Then he leaned forward to kiss Magnus.

Magnus kissed him back, expecting a simple good-night kiss, but instead Alec reached out and tangled his hands in Magnus’s wild hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss into something much stronger, something wild, almost ferocious.

Alec’s arm slipped down and wrapped around Magnus’s waist, pulling his boyfriend on top of him. Magnus growled low in his throat: the feel of Alec’s body stretched along his always made him wild. He kissed Alec deeply, reveling in the scrape of his stubble, the softness of his lips; Alec gasped and clutched at Magnus’s back, pulling him closer, as close as they could be.

Magnus paused. “How do you feel?” he said, his lips moving against Alec’s.

Alec thought. “Worried about you.”

“No,” said Magnus, rolling them both over, so Alec was on top of him. “I mean, how do you feel about this?”

He slid his hand down and did a thing he knew Alec liked.

“Ohhh,”said Alec. “Oh! Uh, I’m definitely interested in this. But still worried about you,” he added. His beautiful eyes looked directly into Magnus’s. “Just keep it in mind. You’re my heart, Magnus Bane. Stay unbroken, for me.”

“Noted,” said Magnus, doing the thing he knew Alec liked again, and put out the light.