Born to Endless Night (3 page)

Without luck, Magnus would have been among the lost. Without love, Catarina and Ragnor would have been among the lost.

Magnus had no idea what to do with this latest lost child.

He thanked, not for the first time, whatever strange, beautiful fortune had sent him Alec. Alec had been the one who carried the warlock baby up the stairs to the attic, and when Magnus had conjured up a crib Alec had been the one to place the baby tenderly in it.

Then when the baby had started to scream his little blue head off, Alec had taken the baby out of the crib and walked the floor with him, patting his back and murmuring to him. Magnus called up supplies and tried to make formula milk. He’d read somewhere that you tested how hot the milk was on yourself, and ended up burning his own wrist.

The baby had cried for hours and hours and hours. Magnus supposed he could not blame the small lost soul.

The baby was finally sleeping now that the sun had set through the tiny attic windows, and the whole day was gone. Alec was half-sleeping, leaning against the baby’s crib, and Magnus had felt he had to get out. Alec had simply nodded when Magnus said he was stepping out for a breath of air. Possibly Alec had been too exhausted to care what Magnus did.

The moon shone, round as a pearl, turning the stained-glass angel’s hair to silver and the bare winter fields into expanses of light. Magnus was tempted to howl at the moon like a werewolf.

He could not think of anywhere he could take the child, anyone he could trust the child to who would want it, who might love it. He could scarcely think of anywhere in this hostile world where the child might be safe.

He heard the sound of raised voices and rushing footsteps, this late, out in front of the Academy.
Another emergency,
Magnus thought.
It’s been one day, and at this rate the Academy is going to kill me
. He went running from the practice grounds to the front of the door, where he saw the very last person he had ever expected to see here in Idris: Lily Chen, the head of the New York vampire clan, with blue streaks in her hair that matched her blue waistcoat and her high heels leaving deep indentations in the dirt.

“Bane,” she said. “I need help. Where is he?”

Magnus was too tired to argue with her.

“Follow me,” said Magnus, and led the way back up the stairs. Even as he went, he thought to himself that all the noise he had heard outside the Academy could not possibly have been Lily alone.

He thought that, but he did not suspect what was to come.

Magnus had left behind a sleeping child and his worn-out love, and he opened the door on a scene of absolute chaos. For a moment it seemed as if there were a thousand people in his rooms, and then Magnus realized the real situation was far worse.

Every single one of the Lightwood family was there, each one causing enough noise for ten. Robert Lightwood was there, saying something in his booming voice. Maryse Lightwood was holding a bottle and appeared to be waving it around, giving a speech. Isabelle Lightwood was standing on top of a stool for no reason in the world Magnus could see. Jace Herondale was, even more mysteriously, lying flat out on the stone floor, and apparently he’d brought Clary, who looked at Magnus as if she were puzzled by her presence here as well.

Alec was standing in the middle of the room, in the middle of the human storm that was his family, holding the baby protectively to his chest. Magnus could not believe it was possible for his heart to sink further, but it somehow struck him as the greatest disaster in the world that the baby was awake.

Magnus stopped on the threshold, staring at the chaos, feeling entirely uncertain about what to do next.

Lily had no such hesitation.

“LIGHTWOOD!” Lily bellowed, charging in.

“Ah yes, Lily Chen, I believe?” said Robert Lightwood, turning to her with the dignity of the Inquisitor and no sign of surprise. “I remember you were interim representative for the vampires on the Council for a time. Glad to see you again. What can I do for you?”

Robert was obviously doing his best to show every courtesy to an important vampire leader. Magnus appreciated that, a little.

Lily did not care. “Not you!” she snapped. “Who even are you?”

Thick black brows shot up to the sky.

“I’m the Inquisitor?” said Robert. “I was the head of the New York Institute for over a decade?”

Lily rolled her dark eyes. “Oh, congratulations, do you want a medal? I need
Alexander
Lightwood, obviously,” said Lily, and swanned past a staring Robert and Maryse to their son. “Alec! You know that faerie dealer, Mordecai? He’s been selling fruit to mundanes at the edge of Central Park. Again! He’s at it again! And then Elliott bit a mundane who had partaken.”

“Did he reveal his vampire nature to anyone while intoxicated?” Robert asked sharply.

Lily gave him a withering look, as if wondering why he was still here, then returned her attention to Alec. “Elliott performed a dance called the Dance of the Twenty-Eight Veils in Times Square. It is on YouTube. Many commenters described it as the most boring erotic dance ever performed in the history of the world. I have never been so embarrassed in my unlife. I’m thinking of quitting being leader of the clan and becoming a vampire nun.”

Magnus noticed Maryse and Robert, who did not have the best relationship and hardly ever spoke to each other, having a brief whispered consultation about what YouTube might be.

“As the current head of the New York Institute,” Maryse said, with an attempt at firmness, “if there is illegal Downworlder activity happening, it should be reported to me.”

“I do not
talk
to
Nephilim
about
Downworlder business
,” Lily said severely.

The Lightwood parents stared at her, and then swung their heads in sync to stare at their son.

Lily waved a dismissive hand in their direction. “Except for Alec, he’s a special case. The rest of you Shadowhunters just come in, lay down your precious Law, and chop off people’s heads. We Downworlders can handle our business ourselves. You Nephilim can stick to chopping off demons’ heads and I will consult with you as soon as the next great evil occurs, instead of the next great annoyance, which will occur probably on Tuesday, and which I, Maia, and Alec will deal with. Thank you. Please stop interrupting me. Alec, can these people even be trusted?”

“They’re my parents,” said Alec. “I know about the faerie fruit. The fey have been taking more and more chances lately. I already sent a message to Maia. She’s got Bat and some other boys prowling the precincts of the park. Bat’s friends with Mordecai; he can reason with him. And you keep Elliott away from the park. You know how he is with faerie fruit. You know he bit that mundie on purpose.”

“It could have been an accident,” Lily muttered.

Alec gave Lily a deeply skeptical look. “Oh, it could have been his seventeenth accident? He has to stop or he’s going to lose control under the influence and kill somebody. He didn’t kill the man, did he?”

“No,” Lily said sullenly. “I stopped Elliott in time. I knew you’d kill him, and then I knew you’d give me your disappointed look.” She paused. “You’re sure the werewolves have this in hand?”

“Yes,” said Alec. “You didn’t need to charge to Idris and spill Downworlder business in front of my whole family.”

“If they’re your family, they know you can handle a little thing like this,” Lily said dismissively. She ran two hands through her sleek black hair, fluffing it up. “This is such a relief. Oh,” she added, as if she had just noticed. “You’re holding a baby.”

Lily tended to have laser focus.

After the war with Sebastian, the Shadowhunters had been left dealing with the betrayal of the faeries and the crisis of how many Institutes had fallen and how many Nephilim had been Endarkened and lost in the war, their second war in a year.

They were in no shape to keep a close eye on the Downworlders, but the Downworlders had lost a great deal as well. Old structures that had held their society in place for centuries, like the Praetor Lupus, had been destroyed in the war. The faeries were waiting to revolt. And the werewolf and vampire clans of New York both had brand-new leaders. Both Lily and Maia were young to be leaders, and had succeeded entirely unexpectedly to leadership. Both of them had found themselves, due to inexperience and not lack of trying, in trouble.

Maia had called Magnus and asked if she could come and visit him, to ask his advice on a few things. When she showed up, she’d dragged Lily along with her.

Lily, Maia, and Magnus then sat around Magnus’s coffee table shouting at each other for hours.

“You can’t just kill someone, Lily!” Maia kept saying.

Lily kept saying: “Explain why.”

Alec had been cranky that day, having wrenched his arm almost out of its socket during a fight with a dragon demon. He’d been leaning against the kitchen counter, listening, nursing his arm, and texting Jace messages like
Y DO U SAY THINGS R XTINCT WHEN THINGS R NOT XTINCT
and
Y R U THE WAY THAT U R.

Until he ran out of patience.

“Do you know, Lily,” he said in a cold voice, putting down his phone, “that you spend more than half the time you are speaking baiting Magnus and Maia, instead of offering suggestions? And you make them spend about the same amount of time arguing you down. So you’re making everything last twice as long. Which means you’re wasting everyone’s time. That’s not a really efficient way for a leader to behave.”

Lily was so startled she looked almost blank for a moment, almost truly young, before she hissed: “Nobody asked you, Shadowhunter.”

“I am a Shadowhunter,” said Alec, still calm. “The issue you’re having with the mermaids. The Rio de Janeiro Institute was having the same problem a couple of years ago. I know all about it. Do you want me to tell you? Or do you want to end up with half a dozen tourists on a boat to Staten Island drowned, at least that many Shadowhunters asking you embarrassing questions, and a little voice in your head saying, ‘Wow, I wish I’d listened to Alec Lightwood when I had the chance’?”

There was a silence. Maia had put an entire cookie into her mouth as they waited. Lily kept her arms crossed and looked sulky.

“Don’t waste my time, Lily,” Alec said. “What do you want?”

“I want you to sit down and help me, I suppose,” Lily grumbled.

Alec had sat down.

Magnus had not expected the meetings to happen more than a few times, let alone to see a rapport spring up between Alec and Lily. Alec had not been entirely comfortable with vampires, once. But Alec always responded to being relied on, being turned to. Whenever Lily came to him with a problem, at first haughtily and with an air of reluctance and later with demanding confidence, Alec did not rest until he had solved it.

One Thursday evening Magnus had heard the doorbell and walked in from the bedroom to find Alec laying out glasses, and realized that the occasional emergency gatherings had become regular meetings. That Maia and Lily and Alec would unroll a map of New York to pinpoint problem areas and have heated debates in which Lily made very nasty werewolf jokes, and each of them would call the other when they had a problem they did not know how to solve. That Downworlders and Shadowhunters alike would come to New York knowing there was a group with Downworlders and Shadowhunters who had power and would cooperate to solve problems. They would come to consult and find out if the group could help them, too.

Magnus realized that this was his life now, and he would not have it different.

“I like Alec so much,” Lily told Magnus at a party months later, slightly drunk and with glitter in her hair. “Especially when he gets snippy with me. He reminds me of Raphael.”

“How dare you,” Magnus had replied. “You are speaking of the man I love.”

He was bartending. His tuxedo had a glow-in-the-dark waistcoat, which made bartending in the artful gloom of the party somewhat easier. He’d spoken without thinking, casually, and then stopped, glass in his hand winking turquoise in the party lights. He’d been talking about Raphael easily, casually insulting, as if Raphael were still alive.

Lily had been Raphael’s ally and backup for decades. She had been utterly loyal to him.

“Well, I loved Raphael,” said Lily. “And Raphael never loved anyone, I know that much. But he was my leader. If I compare anybody to Raphael, it’s a compliment. I like Alec. And I like Maia.” She regarded Magnus with wide eyes, pupils dilated until they were almost black. “I’ve never been terribly fond of you. Except Raphael always said you were an idiot, but you could be trusted.”

Raphael had loved many people, Magnus knew. He had loved his mortal family. Maybe Lily didn’t know about them: Raphael had been so careful about them. Magnus thought Raphael might have loved Lily, though not in the way she had wanted.

He knew Raphael had trusted her. And Raphael had trusted Magnus. They stood together, these two Raphael had trusted, in one of those quietly terrible moments remembering the dead and knowing you would never see them again.

“Do you want another drink?” Magnus asked. “I can be trusted to make you another drink.”

“Bring on the party O neg, I’m feeling frisky,” Lily told him. She stared off into the distance as Magnus made her drink, her eyes fixed on showers of glitter that fell from the ceiling at intervals, but not seeing them. “I never thought I’d have to lead the clan. I thought Raphael would always be there. If I didn’t have the sessions with Alec and Maia, I wouldn’t know what to do half the time. A werewolf and a Shadowhunter. Do you think Raphael would be ashamed?”

Magnus slid Lily’s drink across the bar to her. “I don’t,” he told her.

Lily had smiled, a flash of fang beneath her plum-colored lipstick, and, clutching her drink, wandered over to Alec.

Now Lily stood next to Alec, having followed him to Idris, and looked at the baby in his arms.

“Hello, baby,” Lily whispered, hovering over the child. She snapped her fangs in the baby’s direction.

Jace rolled lightly, off the floor and to his feet. Robert, Maryse, and Isabelle put their hands on their weapons. Lily snapped her teeth again, entirely unaware the Lightwood family was clearly ready to mobilize and tear her into pieces. Alec looked at his family over Lily’s head and shook his own head in a small, firm gesture. The baby looked up at Lily’s glinting fangs and laughed. Lily clicked her teeth for him again and he laughed again.