The Institute was lit up like a Christmas tree. It had been dark when they'd left, and as Finn and Selina approached, Finn caught the faintest of faint glimmers on the air. Light in the air meant a Portal, and a Portal meant the Clave.
The Institute's Toyota pumped to a stop in front of the Institute. The Blackthorns all emerged: some of them blinking and barely awake (Dru, Mark), some looking quietly suspicious (Ty), and some nervous (Livvy, who was clutching Tavvy tightly). Windspear was waiting with Kieran and Dearil a good distance out of sight from the Institute.
Finn could tell that Julian was hesitant. Anything could be waiting for him on the other side, from the massed array of the Council to a few dozen Clave warriors. Julian knew there would be no more hiding Mark. He knew what his plans were. He knew they balanced, like a million angels, on the head of a pin. Chance, circumstance, and determination held them together. He glanced over and saw Emma looking at him. Though her tired and grimy face didn't break into a smile, he saw her confidence and her trust in him in her eyes. He'd missed one, he thought. Chance, circumstance, determination - and faith.
Julian was the one to open the door.
The light in the entryway was blazingly bright. Both witchlight chandeliers were burning, and the upstairs gallery was illuminated by rows of torches that the family almost never used. Light glowed beneath the doors of the Sanctuary.
In the middle of the room stood Magnus Bane, resplendent in an elegant outfit: a brocade jacket and trousers, his fingers adorned with dozens of rings. Beside him was Clary Fairchild, her bright red hair tied up in a messy bun, wearing a delicate green dress. They both looked as if they had just come from a party.
As Julian and the rest flooded into the room, Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Well, well. Kill the fatted calf and all that. The prodigals have returned."
Clary's hand flew to her mouth. "Emma, Julian-" She whitened. "Mark? Mark Blackthorn?"
Mark stood silent, his ragged pale-blond hair a halo around his head, his pointed ears and polychrome eyes clearly visible in the bright light. His family had grouped themselves around Mark, a loose circle protecting him. Finn wasn't sure how he really felt about the situation - he knew Magnus and Clary well enough to know they hopefully wouldn't be against Mark's return…
Magnus looked hard at Mark before glancing up towards the second floor. "Jace! Get down here!"
Clary made a move towards the Blackthorns, but Magnus pulled her back gently. She was frowning. "Are you all right?" she asked, directing the question to Emma but clearly meaning it for all of them. "Are you hurt?"
Before anyone could speak, there was a commotion at the top of the steps, and a tall figure appeared there.
Jace. It was the first time Julian had really met Jace Herondale, who was famous throughout the Shadowhunter world, Jace had been about seventeen and Julian had been twelve. Emma, who had also been twelve, had not been shy about letting the world know she thought Jace was the handsomest and most amazing person who had ever graced the planet with his presence. Julian had not agreed, but then, no one had asked him.
Jace descended the stairs in a manner that made Finn wonder if Jace thought he had a magnificent train trailing behind him - slowly, deliberately, and as if he were aware that he was the focus of all eyes.
Selina rolled her eyes, probably the only one who was somewhat relaxed under the scrutiny of the famous Shadowhunters and warlock. "Beginning to understand why Artemis took that whole virgin vow…"
Maybe he was just used to being stared at. Emma had stopped going on about Jace at some point, but the Shadowhunter world in general considered him out of the ordinary in terms of looks. His hair was shockingly gold and so were his eyes. Like Magnus and Clary he looked like he had come from a party: He wore a wine-red blazer and an air of casual elegance.
Reaching the bottom step, he glanced towards Julian - covered in blood and dirt - and then towards the rest of them, just as stained.
"Well, either you've been out fighting the forces of evil or you've come from a much wilder party than we have," Jace said. "Hello there, Blackthorns. Finn and Selina, been a while."
"You never call," Finn shrugged.
"Plus Finn's afraid of social interaction," Selina added. Finn elbowed her in the kidney.
Livvy sighed. She was looking at Jace the way Emma had when she was twelve. Dru, loyal to her crush on Diego, just glared.
"Why are you here?" Julian asked, though he knew the answer. Still, it was better to build up the idea that you were surprised. People trusted your answer more when they thought they weren't rehearsed.
"Dark magic," said Magnus. "A huge flare of it on the map. At the convergence site." He slid his gaze towards Emma. "I thought you might do something with that bit of information I gave you. Where the ley lines are concerned, the convergence is always key."
"Why didn't you go there, then?" Emma asked. "To the convergence?"
"Magnus checked it out with a spell," Clary said. "There was nothing there but some wreckage, so we Portaled here."
"From my sister's engagement party, to be precise," Jace interjected. "There was an open bar. And for your information, Finnegan, you and your parabatai were invited."
Selina pulled out her phone and scrolled through her messages. "Oh, so we were. Veon usually keeps tabs on parties."
"Yes, I was surprised that he didn't jump at the opportunity," Magnus muttered.
"Oh!" A look of happiness flitted across Emma's face. "Isabelle's marrying Simon?"
As far as Julian was concerned, no girl had ever been born who could compare to Emma, but when Clary smiled, she was very pretty. Her whole face lit up. It was something she and Emma had in common, actually. "Yeah," Clary said. "He's really happy."
"Mazel tov to them," Jace said, leaning against the banister rail. "Anyway, we were at the party, and Magnus got this alert about necromantic magic near the L.A. Institute, and he tried to reach Malcolm, but no luck. So we snuck out, just the four of us. Which is a big loss to the party if you as me, because I was going to give a toast and it was going to be glorious. Simon would never be able to show his face in public again."
"Dang, I might've liked to see that," Selina murmured.
"Not really the point of an engagement toast, Jace," Clary said. She was looking worriedly at Diego - he was awfully pale.
"Four of you?" Emma looked around the room. "Is Alec here?"
Magnus opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment, the doors of the Sanctuary burst open, and a tall, stocky man with dark hair emerged: Robert Lightwood, the current Inquisitor, second in command to the Consul of Idris, and in charge of investigating Shadowhunters who had broken the Law.
Julian had met the Inquisitor exactly once before, when he'd been forced to stand up in front of the Council and give his account of Sebastian's attack on the Institute. He remembered holding the Mortal Sword in his hand. The feeling of the truth being dragged out of you with knives and hooks, of your internal organs tearing apart. He had never lied when he was asked about the attack, had never wanted or planned to. But it hurt just the same. And bearing the Mortal Sword, even for such a short time, had forged an indelible bond in his mind between truth and pain.
The Inquisitor strode towards him. He was a little older than the Robert Lightwood Julian remembered, his hair more liberally streaked with gray. But the look in his dark blue eyes was the same: hard and cold.
"What's going on here?" he demanded. "There was a flare of necromantic magic traced to this Institute several hours ago and your uncle claims to know nothing about it. More troubling, he refused to tell us where you disappeared to." He spun around, his eyes raking their group - and landing on Mark. "Mark Blackthorn?"
"I already said that," Clary volunteered. Finn had the feeling she wasn't overly fond of her prospective father-in-law - if he was that. Finn realized he didn't know if Jace and Clary had plans to get married.
"Yes," Mark said. He was standing upright as if facing a firing squad. He met Robert Lightwood's eyes, and Finn saw the Inquisitor flinch at the sight of Wild Hunt eyes in a Shadowhunter's face.
They were an accusation against the Clave, those eyes. They said, 'You abandoned me. You did not protect me. I was alone.'
"I have come back," Mark said firmly.
"The Wild Hunt would never have released you," said the Inquisitor. "You were far too valuable to them. And faeries don't give back what they take."
"Robert-" Magnus began
"Tell me I'm wrong. Magnus? Anyone?"
Magnus was silent, his unhappiness evident. Jace's gold eyes were unreadable.
Dru made a frightened, stifled sound.
"Robert." A firm voice called out from the Sanctuary where Robert had come from. Finn's heart jumped as he saw a flash of curly orange hair. "How many times must I tell you that yelling doesn't help?"
Merida Scion was a firm presence. She wore clothes similar to Diego, a battle suit covered mostly by a heavy cloak pinned at the shoulder by a badge proclaiming her a High Centurion. Finn hadn't seen her in ages; she looked like she'd aged a decade. Finn didn't have a lot of memories of his mother remaining, but he could definitely see Ellesmira Scion in her daughter.
"What's the old saying about catching more flies with honey?"
"You catch more flies with honey than vinegar." Aaron Half-Light walked out of the Sanctuary behind Merida, standing at attention slightly behind and to her side. He appeared to have been de-Astraled, with his normal dull brown eyes. Finn wondered how much Ace had left with Aaron, if he'd told Merida anything.
"Right, that."
Finnegan's eyes met with Merida's. Her eyes shimmered with mirth, but also a warning: 'Later. We will have a talk.'
"It's not fair to interrogate them," Clary agreed. "They're just kids."
"Don't you think I remember the trouble you and Jace got into when you were 'just kids'?" Robert retorted.
"He has a point." Jace smiled at Julian and Emma, and the smile was like gold melted over steel. You could see how the softness was a disguise, and how what lay under it had won Jace the title of best Shadowhunter of his generation.
"We didn't use any necromancy," Julian said. "We didn't need to. The thing about fairies - they're always willing to make a deal."
Two figures appeared in the doorway of the Sanctuary. Merida and Aaron parted, allowing them through. Anselm Nightshade, his sharp, bony face wary. And beside him, Arthur, looking tired and carrying a glass of wine. Julian had left the full bottle in the Sanctuary earlier that night. It was good vintage. The protected space of the Sanctuary extended slightly past the doors. Anselm edged a toe over the line, winced, and quickly pulled it back.
"Arthur. You claimed you were discussing Sophocles with Anselm Nightshade all evening?" Robert Lightwood questioned.
"'If you try to cure evil with evil you will add more pain to your fate,'" Arthur responded.
Robert raised an eyebrow.
"He's quoting Antigone," Merida said, crossing her arms and leaning against the door of the Sanctuary. "He means 'yes.'"
"Come into the room, Arthur," Robert ordered. "Please do not give me the impression you're hiding in the Sanctuary."
"When you use that voice, I want to hide in the Sanctuary," Magnus muttered.
He had begun wandering around the room, picking up objects and setting them down. His actions appeared idle, but Finn knew better. Magnus did little without premeditation. Neither did Jace. Jace was sitting on the lowest step of the stairs, his sharp gaze unwavering. Even Merida and Aaron had taken positions on either side of the Sanctuary doors, leaning against them with their arms crossed, mirror images of each other. Their gazes were observant and yet appeared neutral.
Julian cleared his throat. "My younger brothers and sisters have nothing to do with this. And Tavvy is exhausted. He was almost killed tonight."
"What?" Alarm darkened Clary's green eyes. "How did that happen?"
"I'll explain. Just let them go."
Merida jabbed a thumb up the stairs of the foyer. "They can leave. No use threatening the younger ones unless Julian is uncooperative. And I believe he is willing to work with us." She gave a glare to Robert in case he wanted to put up an argument, but after a moment he nodded curtly.
Relief washed through Julian as Ty, Livvy, and Dru headed up the steps, Livvy still carrying Octavian against her shoulder. At the top, Ty paused for a moment and looked down. He was looking at Mark, and the expression on his face was fearful.
"It is the disease of tyranny to trust no friends, Inquisitor," said Anselm Nightshade. "At least the Centurion knows."
"Aeschylus," Merida agreed.
"I did not come here, from my daughter's engagement party, for a classics lesson," Robert said. "Nor is this Downworlder business. Please wait for us in the Sanctuary, Anselm."
Arthur passed his glass to Anselm, who raised it ironically but went, seeming relieved to get away from the demarcation line where hallowed ground began.
The moment he was gone, Robert rounded on Arthur. "What do you know about all this, Blackthorn?"
"A convoy came to us from Faerie," said Arthur. "They offered to return Mark to his family, and in exchange, we would help them discover who was killing faeries in Los Angeles."
"And you said nothing of this to the Clave? Despite knowing you were breaking the Law, the Cold Peace-"
"I wanted my nephew back. Wouldn't you have done the same, for your family?"
"You're a Shadowhunter. If you must choose between your family and the Law you choose the Law!"
"Lex malla, lex nulla. You know our family motto."
"He did the right thing." For once, there was no humor in Jace's voice. "I would have done the same."
"Any of us would," Finn said.
Robert looked exasperated. "And did you discover it? Who was killing faeries?"
"We discovered it tonight," Julian said. "It was Malcolm Fade."
Magnus stiffened, his cat eyes flashing. "Malcolm?" he executed a quick about-face and marched towards Julian. "And why do you think it was a warlock? Because we know magic? Is all dark magic to be blamed on us, then?"
"Because he said he did it."
Clary's mouth fell open. Jace remained seated, face unreadable as a cat's.
"Finn?" Merida asked.
He nodded. "Malcolm admitted to it. He gave a long monologue."
Robert's expression darkened. "Arthur. You're the head of this Institute. Talk. Or are you going to leave that to your nephew?"
"There are things," Julian said, "things we didn't tell Arthur. Things he doesn't know."
Arthur put his hand to his head, as if it pained him. "If I've been deceived, then let Julian explain it."
Robert's hard gaze swept over their group and fastened on Diego. He whirled on Merida, who raised an eyebrow as if Robert wasn't glaring lasers at everything his eyes fell upon. "Centurion, I expect you to handle your subordinate properly."
Merida stepped forward from the door, looking more exasperated than Robert. She walked over to the group. "Centurion Rosales, step forward."
Julian tensed. Diego. He hadn't factored him in, but Diego was a Centurion, and as such, sworn to tell the truth to the Clave. Of course Robert would want Diego to talk instead of Julian. He knew there was no real reason for Robert to want to talk to him at all. He didn't run the Institute. Arthur did. Never mind that he'd been answering Robert's letters for years and recognized Robert's way of doing things better than anyone else here; never mind that in official correspondence, at least, they knew each other well. He was just a teenage boy.
"Yes ma'am?" Diego said.
"Speak to us of Malcolm Fade."
Diego glanced at Aaron, but quickly returned his eyes to Merida. "Malcolm isn't who you think. He has been responsible for countless deaths. He was responsible for the deaths of Emma's parents."
Robert shook his head. "How is that possible? The Carstairs were murdered by Sebastian Morgenstern."
At the sound of Sebastian's name, Clary went pale. She looked immediately over at Jace, who matched her glance - a look woven through with years of shared history.
"No," Clary said. "They weren't. Sebastian was a murderer, but Emma has never believed that he was responsible for her parents' deaths, and neither have Jace or I."
Merida began pacing, her boots clacking gently against the tile floor. "The death of the Carstairs was very suspicious. Sebastian killed many Shadowhunters, but why would he use a necromantic spell upon Emma's parents and them alone? The spell didn't even work, as evidence by the bodies' state afterwards. And today we see evidence of necromantic activity once again - involved here in L.A., once again."
"You knew it was necromantic spells that killed them?" Emma exclaimed.
"I investigated it recently. Long story short, we were already investigating some things here in California and something as suspicious as your parents' deaths came up. While others dismissed the idea of it being relevant, I figured better safe than sorry. We were slightly delayed by the fact that pictures of their bodies had been stolen."
Emma clamped her mouth shut, but Merida simply smiled at her.
Clary turned to look at Emma. "You were right," she said. "I always thought you would be proved right someday. But I'm sorry it was Malcolm. He was your friend."
"And mine," Magnus said, his voice strained. Clary moved towards him, placing her hand on his arm.
"He was also the High Warlock," Robert said. "How did this happen? What do you mean he'd been murdering people?"
"A series of killings in Los Angeles," Diego explained. "He was convincing mundanes to commit murder and then harvesting their bodies for parts he could use in necromancy."
"The Clave should have been called in." Robert sounded furious. "The Clave should have been called in the moment a faerie convoy approached you-"
"Inquisitor." Diego sounded tired. The whole right shoulder of his gear was dark red with blood. "I am a Centurion. I answer directly to the Council. I didn't report what was happening either, because once things were in motion, reporting would have meant slowing things down." He didn't look at Cristina. "The Clave would have begun the investigation over again. There was no time, and the life of a child hung in the balance." He put his hand to his chest. "If you wish to strip me of my medallion, I would understand. But I will maintain to the end that the Blackthorns did what was right."
Merida sighed and stepped forward. Diego bowed his head and then knelt before her. He was clearly in pain, but he maintained his composure.
"I'm sorry, High Centurion. But I will not say I regret my actions."
Her eyes narrowed. "Forgive me Robert, but this is my subordinate. No one will decide his fate tonight but me."
She reached down towards his shoulder where his Centurion pin held his cloak. Then she bypassed it and grabbed him by the ear and twisted it, hauling him to his feet by the small appendage. That, combined with his wounds, made him hiss in pain.
"Diego Rocio Rosales, you have caused me a world of trouble these last few days! Nevermind the fact that you nearly killed a fellow Shadowhunter in your haste, but you refused contact and made me come out here all the way from the Carpathian Mountains just to scold you!"
"We Portaled here," Aaron pointed out.
"Not the point! I tried to send Aaron to retrieve you, and you evaded his advances and even distracted him with some faerie business. I had to leave someone else in charge, and while I enjoy stepping out, I hate leaving others to do my job for me! You will not be stripped of your medallion, Rosales, because you're not going to get out of the paperwork this has caused me!"
She released the squirming Diego, who rubbed his ear. At least he had the decency to look guilty.
Merida took a deep breath and instantly recomposed herself. When she next spoke, her voice was flat and official as it had been before. "There are very few Centurions these days. You are one of the best, Rocio Rosales." She turned around and jabbed him in the stomach. Finn snorted as he recognized Merida's subtle elbowing skills. "But if you ever act that stupid again, I may have your head on a pike." She looked at Diego critically, at his bloody arm and exhausted face. "The Council will expect a report from you tomorrow. And you will be helping me with the reports that I now have to file - as well as the work that must be done to make up for my absence at the Scholomance. For now, you may see to your wounds."
"I'll go with him," Cristina volunteered. Merida nodded passively.
Cristina helped Diego up the stairs, him leaning on her slender frame. Mark looked up at them and then away as they disappeared past the witchlight, into the shadows.
"Robert," Merida spoke up once more once they were gone. "When Julian was twelve, he testified in front of the Council. It's been five years. Let him talk now."
"He's been raising a bunch of children in the wake of their parents' death," Finn agreed. "If nothing else, he's mature for his age, believe me. We've been observing them recently. Julian's been in charge in areas that Arthur has not been."
Despite the look of clear reluctance on his face, Robert nodded. "Very well. Everyone wants to hear you speak, Julian Blackthorn. So speak."
Julian spoke calmly and without flourishes. He began to describe the investigation, from the first bodies found to their realization of Malcolm's guilt.
Finn wondered how things would have turned out differently if Sebastian Morgenstern hadn't attacked the L.A. Institute five years ago. For years now, there had been two Julians that his family had known - that Emma in particular had known. Julian before the attack, who was like everyone else - loving his family but annoyed by them too; a brother among brothers and sisters with whom he squabbled and argued and teased and laughed. And then Julian after. Julian, still a child, teaching himself how to feed and change a baby, cooking four different meals for four younger siblings who liked and disliked different things; Julian hiding his uncle's sickness from a mass of adults who would have taken his children away from him; Julian waking up from screaming nightmares that something had happened to Ty or Livvy or Dru.
Emma had been there to hold him, but she had never quite understood - how could she have, when she didn't know about Arthur, didn't know how alone Julian truly was? She only knew that the nightmares had faded and a quiet strength had settled over Jules, a hard determination before which the softness of childhood gave way. He hadn't been a boy in a long, long time. It had been that boy that Emma had thought could be her parabatai. She would never have fallen in love with that Julian. But she had fallen in love with this one, without knowing it, because how could you fall in love with someone you only half-guessed existed?
Did Mark recognize the same dissonance in some way, the strangeness in how Julian stood and spoke to the Inquisitor now, as if they were two adults together? Did he see the care with which Julian told the story of what had happened: the key details he left out, the way he made it seem natural, inevitable, that they hadn't told the Clave what they were doing? The way he left out Kit and Johnny Rook, Finn's former knowledge of Fionn. He wove a tale of a series of events that was nobody's fault, that no one could have foreseen or prevented, and he did it without a shred of guile ever showing on his face.
When he was done, Emma shivered inside. She loved Julian, she would always love Julian. But for just that moment, she was a little afraid of him too.
"Malcolm was creating murderers?" Robert echoed when Julian had stopped speaking.
"It makes sense," Magnus said. He stood with his chin cupped in his hand, one long finger tapping against his cheekbone. "One of the reasons necromancy is forbidden is that so many necessary ingredients are things like the hand of a murderer who killed in cold blood, or the eye of a hanged man which still holds the image of the last thing he saw. Obtaining those ingredients by orchestrating the situations that create them was ingenious." He seemed to notice Robert glaring at him. "Very evil, also," he added. "Very. No wonder Malcolm targeted Veon when he offered to help - he would've easily recognized the necromantic ingredients and how they could be obtained."
"Your nephew tells a convincing story, Arthur," Robert said. "But you are notably absent from it. How did you not notice all this was going on?"
Julian had woven his story to make Arthur's absence seem natural. But Robert was like a dog with a bone. Probably why he was elected to the position of Inquisitor.
"Robert," Clary said. "There's no need for this. They made difficult decisions, but they weren't wrong decisions."
"Then let me ask Arthur this, Clary. What punishment would he choose for Nephilim, even young Nephilim, who break the Law?"
"Well, that would depend," Arthur said, "on whether they were punished already, five years ago, by losing their father and brother and sister."
Robert flushed darkly. "It was the Dark War that took their family-"
"It was the Clave that took Mark and Helen," Finn interjected.
"We expect betrayal from our enemies," Magnus said. "Not from those who are supposed to care for us."
"We would have protected Mark," said Robert. "There was no need to fear the Clave."
Arthur was pale, his eyes dilated. Yet Emma had never heard him speak so eloquently, or with such clarity. It was bizarre. "Would you have?" he demanded. "In that case, why is Helen still at Wrangel Island?"
"She's safer there," Robert snapped. "There are those - not myself - who still hate the faeries for the betrayal of the Dark War. How do you think they would treat her if she were among other Shadowhunters?"
"So you couldn't have protected Mark," Arthur said. "You admit it."
Before Robert could speak, Julian said, "Uncle Arthur, you can tell him the truth."
Arthur looked puzzled; as clear-headed as he had seemed, he didn't seem to know what Julian meant. He was breathing quickly, too, as he had in the Sanctuary when his head pained him.
Julian turned to Robert. "Arthur wanted to go to the Council as soon as the Fair Folk brought Mark here. We begged him not to. We were afraid our brother would be taken away. We asked Finnegan to use his position to convince him not to."
Finn shrugged. "I study faeries, my sister works for the Scholomance. I could deal with faeries for the sake of Mark and his family."
"We thought if we could just solve the murders, if Mark helped us do it, it might make him look better in the eyes of the Council. Help convince them to let him stay."
"But do you understand what you did?" the Inquisitor demanded. "Malcolm - if he was in pursuit of dark power - he could have posed a threat to all the Clave." Robert didn't sound convinced, though.
"He wasn't in pursuit of power," Julian said. "He wanted to raise someone he loved back from the dead. It was evil, what he did. And he's died for it, as he should have. But it was his only goal and only plan. He never cared about the Clave or Shadowhunters. He only cared about her."
"Poor Malcolm," Magnus said quietly. "To lose the person he loved, that way. We all knew that he had loved a girl who had become an Iron Sister. Veon said he suspected Malcolm knew more than he let on, but we had no idea of the truth."
"Robert," Jace said. "These kids haven't done anything wrong."
"Perhaps not, but I'm the Inquisitor. I can hardly conceal this. With Malcolm Fade dead, having taken the Black Volume to the bottom of the ocean with him, and with all of this having happened without the head of the Institute having noticed-"
"I did it," Finn volunteered. "I convinced Arthur to hear the faeries out, and I allowed the children to continue their investigation while keeping Arthur out of it. I've always been a Downworlder supporter, and the Cold Peace didn't change that. If you have to punish a Head, then punish me. You put me in charge hastily after the untimely death of my uncle. I'm inexperienced, a sympathizer who puts emotion before duty, and you can punish me for distracting Arthur and aiding his kids - guiding them down the wrong path of secrecy."
Julian stepped forward. "There's something Uncle Arthur isn't telling you. He wasn't just letting us run around wild while he did nothing. Finn had him tracking down a different source of dark magic."
Julian looked at Magnus as he spoke. Magnus, who had helped them in the past. He seemed to be willing Magnus to understand and believe him.
"It's no coincidence that Anselm Nightshade is in the Sanctuary," Julian went on in a hard voice. "Arthur brought him because he knew you were coming."
Robert raised an eyebrow. "Is that true? Arthur?"
"You'd better tell them," Julian said, looking hard at his uncle. "They're going to find out anyway."
"I-" Arthur was staring at Julian. There was a blankness on his face that made Finn's stomach knot up. Julian appeared to be almost willing Arthur to follow his lead. "I didn't want to mention it, because it seemed to pale in comparison to what we learned about Malcolm."
"Mention what?"
"Nightshade's been using dark magic for profit," Selina said. She kept her expression calm, a touch regretful. "He's been making money hand over fist using addictive powders in the pizza he makes."
"That's…totally right!" Emma said, speaking over Arthur's stunned silence. "There are people all over the city so addicted that they would do anything for him just to get more."
"Pizza thralls?" Jace asked. "This is without a doubt the weirdest-" He broke off as Clary stomped on his foot. "Seems serious," he said. "I mean, addictive demon powders and all."
Julian crossed the room to the hall closet and yanked it open. Several pizza boxes slid out.
"Magnus?" Julian prompted.
Magnus threw the end of his scarf over his shoulder and approached Julian and the boxes. He lifted the lid of a pizza box with as much gravity as if he were opening a locked treasure chest. He held his hand out over the box, turning it from left to right. Then he looked up.
"Arthur's right. Dark magic."
A cry echoed from inside the Sanctuary. "Betrayal!" Anselm shouted. "Et tu, Brute?"
"He can't get out," Arthur said, looking dazed. "The outside doors are locked."
Robert took off running into the Sanctuary. After a moment, Jace and Clary followed, leaving only Magnus (hands in his pockets, remaining in the foyer), Merida (lips twitching as a smile threatened to break through), and Aaron (who looked utterly confused).
Magnus regarded Julian with serious green-gold eyes. "Nicely done. I don't know quite how else to describe it, but…nicely done."
Julian looked over at Arthur, who was leaning back against the wall by the Sanctuary door, his eyes half-shut, pain etched on his face. "I'll burn in Hell for this," he muttered in a low voice.
"There is no shame in burning for your family," Mark said. "I will burn beside you gladly."
"And so will I," Emma said.
"I've accepted I'm gonna burn in Hell one way or another, so I might as well go out with a bang," Finn sighed.
Emma looked at Magnus. "I'm sorry. I'm the one who killed Malcolm. I know he was your friend, and I wish-"
"He was my friend," Magnus agreed, his eyes darkening. "I knew he had loved someone who died. I didn't know the rest of the story. The Clave betrayed him, just like they betrayed you. I've lived a long time - I've seen many betrayals, and many broken hearts. There are those who let their grief devour them, Who forget that others also feel pain. If Alec died…" He looked down at his hands. "I have to think I wouldn't be like that."
"Magnus, you taught Veon everything he knows, right?" Selina asked.
"Pretty much, yes. He didn't get his charm from just anywhere."
Selina smiled. "Well considering all that he's gone through, who he is, I'd say you taught him how to react to grief just fine. Therefore I have to believe that you're strong enough and aware enough to be better. And you've seen Tessa, too. Living, loving, losing - it doesn't all have to end with hatred. And sorrow doesn't have to make you worse. Grief means you're human, and being human means you hurt. Hurting doesn't end in destruction. Sometimes it can make you better."
Magnus slipped into a warm smile. As always, an immortal was overshadowed by the fear of what eternity could do to them. But it didn't always have to end in tragedy. Tragedy didn't always lead to hatred.
"Veon's at his apartment being patched up, right?" Magnus recalled. "I should check on him, see if he's up for Isabelle's engagement party. Congratulate him on not dying through all this. And my incredible parenting skills, of course."
"Can I come?" Selina asked.
"Seels." Finn nudged her.
"But I want a party! After all that's been happening, can't you let me have this? There's an open bar!"
"I'm just glad I finally know what happened to my parents," Emma said. "Finally, I know."
Before anyone could add anything, there was an explosion of noise at the entrance to the Sanctuary. Merida frowned and nodded to Aaron as the pair rushed into the Sanctuary without a word. There were noises of conflict coming from inside, but Jace appeared suddenly, skidding backwards, his fancy blazer ripped and his blond hair mussed. He turned a smile on the rest of them, so bright it seemed to light up the room.
"Clary's got Nightshade pinned in the corner," he said. "He's pretty nimble for such an old vampire. Thanks for the exercise, by the way - and to think I thought tonight was going to be boring!"
"Herondale, get your ass in here now!" Merida shouted.
"Gotta go." He gave them a two-fingered salute with a grin and dashed back inside the Sanctuary.
"Well that went well," Selina said.
"Smooth as it could, anyways." Merida brushed off her cloak, which had barely gotten dusty in the scuffle.
"It could've been worse," Finn admitted.
After everything had been sorted out with the Inquisitor, who had hauled off Anselm Nightshade (still vowing revenge), and most of the Institute's inhabitants had crawled off to bed, the three friends went to the front door and sauntered out.
"Robert and I will work together to weave Julian's tale properly to the others in the Clave," Merida assured them. "I think you'll be stripped of your rank as Head of the San Francisco Institute, Finn. At least temporarily. Someone will be sent in. You might get some leniency for being young and new to the position."
"But after 18, age barely seems to matter," Selina said. "You're adult, you do you. Even back in the day the debate between women being too emotional to run an Institute or be Consul still gave women a lot of agency to fight back and many Shadowhunters supported them. You'd be considered old enough to have dealt with it."
"People have ascended to positions of power during more stressful times," Merida pointed out.
Finn shrugged. "Fine by me. Less paperwork. Not like I was using the position for anything anyway. Granted there weren't a lot of things to do. All the action happened here in L.A."
Merida's gentle smile felt reserved, as though she was constantly on guard for how she appeared. "Quite so. Anyway, now that that's over with, why don't you tell me what really happened?"
Finn barely hesitated to go into explaining the small details that Julian left out or didn't fully understand. He did pause to consider telling Merida about Aaron; as far as Merida was aware, Diego had diverted his attention when Aaron had come after him, directing him to an investigation of some faerie shenanigans - which the Centurions were authorized to look into - so that Aaron wouldn't get involved in the Blackthorn's business. Ace had obviously been able to handle the situation with ease and had plenty of time to spare to get up to the secret deeds that he had been, but Ace had shown off his power a bit at the convergence. He had no idea what Diego knew, but he decided to omit the information on Aaron and Ace being the same person since Aaron wasn't aware of Ace possessing him - or so Finn knew.
"I'm sorry, Finn," Merida said. She placed her hand on his; he could feel her calluses and the strength behind her grip. "He was a good guy. A good faerie."
Finnegan mused how surprised he should've been. Once, Merida wouldn't have trusted any of his Downworlder friends, and after the Cold Peace, she should have been even more cautious of a faerie. Any normal Shadowhunter would have been. The Penhallows had been afraid that Hellen - a half-faerie who had more than proven herself a loyal Shadowhunter - would break Aline's heart because of her blood.
For Merida to say such things about Fionn with the little that she knew about him and her wariness about Downworlders…well that meant a lot more than Finnegan could express. Maybe it was her time in the Scholomance that changed her, but overall it was Merida who gave her sympathies with genuine Merida-ness that Finnegan couldn't ever forget from his sister/best-friend who he'd grown up with.
"He…he might not be gone for good, ya know?"
Merida's eyes that were a reflection of his own were hard as stone. She was his sister, and so she needed to be willing to tell the hard truth. "Finn, you saw what happened when Malcolm obsessed over getting back his loved one. Don't go down that path or I'll be the one to stop you."
"I know, I know, Merida." He couldn't help the tremor that shook his spine when she said that so seriously. He had no doubt that she'd take him out if he went too far. It was bad enough that she was covering for him as a faerie ally, but if Merida needed to prove her loyalties, he honestly wasn't sure if she'd even hesitate to put duty before family.
A part of him said that he'd want Merida to do such a thing. She had such a good life going for her. Finn had always felt like he was holding Merida back; she'd been superior in training as a kid and he knew that Merida could go so much further if she just left Finn in the dust. But she had insisted on staying with him and Selina. She'd worried about being lonely back when she announced she might be going to the Scholomance. But Merida knew how to get along with other Shadowhunters, to deal with them. Now she was a High Centurion, in a great position that allowed her a lot of respect - all rightfully earned. Finnegan was torn between wanting Merida's help and wanting Merida to stay with the Clave and the Law even if it meant they'd be enemies.
"So…gods, huh?"
Finn smiled. The way she said it made Merida seem so much more down-to-earth. Just like his sister to take such a thing in stride though.
Selina shrugged. "Yeah, no biggie."
Merida sighed. "I always knew Faerie was vast, but I never assumed it'd be involved with so many gods. Then again, I really shouldn't expect anything but everything from Faerie."
"Gods have always existed, we never stopped," Selina said. She held her hand up towards the fading moonlight. It was nearly dawn. The sunrise was far in the distance, at the easter edge of the beach's curve. A pearlescent lightening of the water, as if white paint were spilling onto the world through a crack in the sky. "They don't interfere with the affairs of mortals because of a thing called the AEGIS Covenant. It was made thousands of years ago and separated all supernaturals from regular humans because of the many wars and conflicts back in the day."
"Like with all that mythology with monsters constantly roaming the world."
She nodded. "Right. Those are all true. All the stories are true, right? There was a lot of bloodshed, and some supernaturals posed the idea of keeping humans as cattle rather than wiping them out. Over many years, the Covenant was born and rectified over and over until there were somewhat equal rights and systems built to cater to all supernaturals to protect the majority of humans. When the demon invasion that spurred the creation of artificial Nephilim through the Mortal Cup - rather than pureborn Nephilim made the old fashioned way - they were their own branch of the Covenant. A lot of the gods supported Raziel's decision to make artificial Nephilim rather than the more dangerous natural-born ones, but others still feared that any Nephilim was a bad one. In the end, it was Raziel and his God who made the final decision."
"So what happened?" Finn asked.
"A lot of debating, for one thing. The Nephilim were wreaking havoc on the order of the Covenant, asserting their dominance without agreeing to the terms of being under the AEGIS Covenant. Because they were a new species, it took time to draw up rules for them - like an invasive species. The original documents stipulated that Nephilim were allowed to exterminate unauthorized and hostile demonic presences as long as they were protecting regular humans. Of course, Shadowhunters took any demonic presence as hostile even if they weren't, and so anything that wasn't a mundane was killed. Shadowhunters got hunted in retaliation, and the olden days of mindless slaughter nearly gripped society again.
"On top of that, we had the threat of the Scourge throwing us into disarray. It was only when the Founder of the Covenant - the one who managed to bring together all the supernaturals for peace - stepped in that Nephilim were put in their place. Raziel himself was scolded for his creation's actions - though I doubt the stiff could be chastised even by the Founder - and the Accords were one of many efforts to make peace. Still, that was hundreds of years of turmoil and refining Nephilim powers and their limitations. Nephilim are still human. They age, they die, they pass on their positions to their successors. People forget lessons they learn over the generations; no human system can last peacefully forever. There are some Silent Brothers or Iron Sisters who know about the gods, but anyone who's just a regular human can never know. As always, gods are not allowed to interfere in mortal affairs in any way that can alter the course of fate."
"What about all those times the gods helped out in Greek Mythology?" Merida asked.
"The Greeks came long before the Covenant, as far as I'm aware. In relative terms against the length that most gods have existed, the Covenant is relatively new - just a couple millennia old."
"So, did the rules surrounding Nephilim change beyond 'Hunt demons, protect humans?'" Finn asked.
"Oh yeah. But most of that is in the Clave's Law. The Astral world is in disarray, but a lot of us were already vouching to refine the Accords and the Nephilim branch of the Covenant long ago. If we weren't in such chaos, the Dark War probably would've been the push we needed to get shit done. As it stands, the Dark War was reflected by a war in the Astral realm that nearly tore us apart."
"The Ifrit War?"
She nodded. "It happened earlier in the century, but wars in the mortal realm reflect into the celestial realm often."
"Sounds stressful." Merida leaned against the side of the building. "Wars are happening all the time. It's human nature to be at war."
"Oh, it is. I try to stay out of that kind of stuff…except when I'm dragged in by force," she muttered. "But what if it's the gods constantly at war that're causing human conflict? Huh?"
"It's a real chicken-and-the-egg situation."
Finn once again couldn't help but admire how mature Merida looked. Even leaning against a wall, she looked like she had the situation entirely under her control - even when talking about a subject she was so out of her depth about.
The door to the Institute popped open and Aaron Half-Light walked through.
Inside, Finn caught a peek of Mark and he heard Jace Herondale speaking: "I'd be polite and say you've changed, but you haven't."
"I have," Mark said. "Just not in a way you can see."
"A scientist said once that if the ocean were as clear as the sky, if we could see everything in it, no one would ever go into the sea. It's that horrifying, what lives in the water, five miles down."
"There speaks one who does not know the terrors of the sky."
Aaron closed the door behind him. "We're done here," Aaron said. "Mark's staying. He was never exiled, and the only rule was that the Blackthorns couldn't look for him. They didn't; he found his way home and they can't change that. And, I think, after the help he gave with Malcolm, it would be a very unpopular move if they tried."
Aaron explained how Julian had been emptying the dregs of the vials Malcolm gave him for Arthur's clarity into a bottle of wine, just in case, and left the wine with the super-dosage in the Sanctuary. He realized at the convergence that they would need Arthur to be clear-headed when they returned, to be functioning. He'd called Arthur, told him he needed to offer the wine to Anselm and drink some himself, knowing it would only affect his uncle. He'd done a terrible thing, dosing his uncle without his knowledge, planting boxes in the foyer the first time they'd ordered it, just in case, and done a terrible thing to Anselm, who did not deserve the punishment he was likely to get. Julian himself was wracked with guilt, but-
"You gotta give the guy credit for thinking ahead," Selina said. "I'd almost say he's on par with my own partial-omnipotence."
"Partial-omnipotence?" Finn repeated.
She shrugged. "Just being able to predict things right sometimes."
"Diego?" Merida asked.
"Has a deep cut surrounded by the red blister-burn of dark magic," Aaron said. "Healing runes are nearly ineffective. A couple hits from Malcolm's magic too. Cristina's patched him up, though she did have to cut his body gear off him and his shirt."
"We'll have to wait for him to recover enough to return."
"You'll keep Arthur's secret?" Finn asked.
"Julian is nearly 18. He'll be old enough to officially run the Institute soon enough, and he's been doing it well already. I see no reason to out him now - it would only slow down the process of proving he is worthy of leading his Institute and raising his family. Julian is a fine Shadowhunter, even if he's put his family before the Law. He's managed a balance between Law and family and it hasn't become a problem beyond recent events. Even then, he's maintained a sense of planning and determination that's not to be ignored."
Finn scanned the horizon. Dawn was spreading. The road and the highway, the desert trees, all were thrown into sharp relief by the increasing light. And there by the edge of the roan stood Kieran, looking out towards the sea. All that could be seen was his shadow, but even as a shadow Kieran could never be anyone else.
"I should check on…"
"Go." Merida whacked him on the small of his back, shoving him forward. "Go get your guy. Er - girl."
Selina smiled her evil, evil smile. "Good thing he's bisexual."
Finn punched his parabatai in the arm so hard he could feel the throbbing himself. He went down the steps and over to where Kieran was standing. As he departed, he heard Selina say something about nearly forgetting and rushed inside the Institute.
Kieran had not changed his clothes, and the blade of his sword, which hung by his side, was stained with gore. The cursed knife at his hip swirled with a living mist from within.
"She awoke recently, however she is not lucid."
Dearil was lying on her side in the grass. Her eyes were half-lidded, and she was muttering things in the fey language.
"She calls for her mother." Kieran seemed pensive. While Finnegan could read many expressions on Fionn's face with enough practice, Kieran worked differently than his brother. "She mistook me for my mother."
Finnegan knelt before her. Still outfitted in garb that was too big for her, he considered asking Selina to go get some clothes that might fit her from their Institute. Her hair was in an agitated state, flickering a dark maroon, her complexion was pale, and her breathing was strained. He put his hand to her forehead, sweeping her hair out of the way. She was in a cold sweat.
"She might be getting sick. Unsurprising, considering the night that she's gone through."
"Set ablaze a campfire," Kieran recommended. "Fionn would recover from devastating wounds as well as illness through extreme heat."
"No reason to believe she's not the same," he agreed. Just in case, he pulled out some paper meant for fire messages and drew a heat rune on it until it caught ablaze. He held the flame up to her finger, and when it didn't do any damage, he rolled her onto her back and placed it into her forehead.
Dearil's eyes slipped closed and she sucked in a deep breath. The flame was absorbed into her person completely, leaving a charred pile of ashes. He swept them off of her. She seemed to be sleeping a little easier.
"Good news Finn!" Selina came running up with a bundle of fabric in her arms. "Got clothes that'll hopefully fit Dearil. Hopefully."
"You didn't borrow from the Blackthorns, did you? We have plenty of clothes back at our Institute-"
"No, no I bought this back when we went to Hidden Treasures, and Merida loaned a couple things too. She had an extra uniform on her. It's not very faerie-like, but it'll serve her a little better than those baggy clothes that are too big for her."
She approached Dearil, but Finnegan glanced around. "You're gonna change her here?"
Selina paused. She looked like she hadn't thought about that. "Oh, right. Should I take her to the Sanctuary?"
Finn sighed. "I'll take her." He carefully scooped Dearil into his arm. He was still baffled by how light she was.
The two of them headed back towards the Institute, passing Mark as he approached Kieran. Finn glanced worriedly at Kieran, but the faerie urged him to continue. Reluctantly, Finn left Kieran to face Mark.
"Kieran," Mark said.
"You will stay?" Kieran asked, and then caught himself with a rueful look. "Of course, you will stay."
"If you're asking if I'm going to remain with my family or go back to the Wild Hunt, then yes, you have your answer. The investigation is over. The Murderer and his Followers are gone."
"That was not the letter of the bargain. The Shadowhunters were to release the murderer into the custody of Faerie, for us to mete out justice."
"Given that Malcolm is dead, and the magnitude of Iarlath's betrayal, I expect your folk to look with leniency upon my choice."
"My folk?" Kieran echoed. "You know they are not lenient. They have not been lenient with me."
Mark thought of the first time he had seen Kieran's black eyes staring out defiantly from the table of his dark hair. He thought of the glee of the other Hunters at having princes to torment and mock, how Fionn's eyes had been desperate to protect Kieran against the terrible situation - how his eyes had split even before he drank from Gwyn's bowl from his very vow to be by his brother's side. How Kieran had borne it, with an arrogant curl to his lip and a lift of his chin. How he had borne the fact that his father had thrown him to the Hunt the way a man might throw a bone to a dog. Kieran had so many brothers, but only one had fought to stay by his side. Fionn did not fight to keep Kieran in the Courts, but instead he followed Kieran into the lion's den. And now that brother was gone. Kieran no longer had a brother who loved him and fought to get him back.
"But I will fight for you," Kieran said, meeting Mark's gaze. "I will tell them it is your right to stay." He hesitated. "Will we…see each other again?"
"I'm not sure," Mark said, as gently as he could. "I don't think so, Kieran. Not after all that has happened."
A brief ripple of pain, quickly hidden, passed across Kieran's face. The color of his hair had faded to a silvery-blue, not unlike the shade of the ocean in the morning. "I did not expect a different answer. I hope, though. It is hard to kill hope. But I suppose I lost you a long time ago."
"Not that long. You lost me when you came here with Gwyn and Iarlath and you let them whip my brother. I could forgive you for any pain incurred by me. But I will never forgive you for what Julian and Emma suffered."
"Emma?" Kieran's brows drew together. "I thought it was the other girl who had drawn your fancy. Your princess."
Mark gave a choked laugh. "By the Angel," he said, and saw Kieran blanch at the Shadowhunter words. "Your imagination is limited by your jealousy. Kieran…everyone who lives under this roof, whether they are bound by blood or not, we are tied together by an invisible net of love and duty and loyalty and honor. That is what it means to be a Shadowhunter. Family-"
"What would I know of family? My father sold me to the Wild Hunt. I do not know my mother, her death a crime at the hand of the brother who I held dearest as my only true family. And now even he has vanished from my life, leaving me not even one to direct my rage upon. I have three dozen other brothers, all of whom would gladly see me dead. Mark, you are all I have."
"Kieran-"
"And I love you. You are all that exists on the earth and under the sky that I do love as such."
Mark looked into Kieran's eyes, the silver and the black, and he saw in them, as he always had, the night sky. And he felt that treacherous pull under his rib cage, the one that said that the clouds could be his road. That he need never worry about human concerns: money and shelter and rules and laws. He could ride through the skies over glaciers, through the treetops of forests no human being knew existed. He could sleep in the ruins of cities lost for centuries. His shelter could be a single blanket. He could lie in Kieran's arms and count the stars.
But he had always given the stars his brothers' and sisters' names. There was beauty in the idea of freedom, but it was an illusion. Every human heart was chained by love.
Mark drew his elf-bolt necklace up over his head. He reached out and took Kieran's hand, turning it over so it was palm-up, and dropped the necklace into it.
"I will draw no more bows for the Wild Hunt. Keep this and perhaps remember me."
Kieran's hand tightened on the arrowhead, his knuckles whitening. "The stars will go out before I forget you, Mark Blackthorn. If ever you are in need, Finnegan will know how to summon me safely. But if you are in dire need, you know the ways to send for me of your own accord."
Lightly, Mark touched Kieran's cheek. The faerie prince's eyes were wide and tearless. But in them Mark could see a great wilderness of loneliness. A thousand dark nights spent riding with no home to arrive at. "I do not forgive you. But you came to help us, at the end. I do not know what would have happened if you hadn't. So I will return the favor and say that if you need me - if it is true need - send for me and I will come."
Kieran half-closed his eyes. "Mark-"
But Mark had already turned away. Kieran stood and watched him go, and though he did not move or speak, at the edge of the bluff Windspear reared up and cried out, his hooves pawing at the sky.
Chapter title: 'Requiem' from Dear Evan Hansen
Like just the whole thing is so great and I wanted to make all different parts of it into the title.
Dear Evan Hansen is not overrated, all you haters. Life is sad, putting the sadness of life into words and music is what makes lots of people feel bittersweetly happy. Same thing for Hamilton. Just because something gets lots of media doesn't mean it's bad.
I will not rant about the original Frozen at this time. I will not mention the second