Once in the elevator and travelling down the floors, Jace bowed his head.
Alec and Clary were facing off against The Clave right above him. They all knew that, despite everything, he had the least dangerous task in fulfilling his role as a double-agent. Robert's people could overpower Alec and Clary before Clary could make a portal to escape. Isabelle might not be able to get through the tunnel; they had no idea how heavily guarded it would be.
At least one of his fears was put to rest when the elevator reached the detention level—where Magnus was being kept—and the wall beside him shuddered. Jace braced himself, but, instead of smashing down onto him, the door cracked open at the top and fell outwards from the elevator, revealing a tunnel dimly lit with puttering lamplight.
From within, Isabelle strode over the fallen wall, her serpentine whip sliding back to curl around her wrist.
"Hey," she greeted, casting Jace a soft smile, as if her appearance hadn't been entirely unexpected. "I'm glad it's you and not some Clave guard."
"Did you run into much trouble?"
Isabelle rolled a shoulder back, a movement that suggested a blow had landed there. "Nothing I couldn't handle. There were guards at the entrance, but I knocked them out easily enough. Only two of them… I guess dad didn't really expect us to use the tunnel. Maybe he wasn't even sure if Alec knew about it."
Jace nodded, peering out of the elevator doors to check if the way was clear. Having Isabelle down here would definitely raise some questions if anyone saw her, but there was no one to be seen. It was strange almost; how little security had been stationed. Jace supposed that Robert and his Clave guards were struck with overconfidence in their ploy, expecting to handle any resistance that came from them setting out to sentence Magnus without trial. They were about to be very regretful of their surety.
"It's clear," he muttered, beckoning Isabelle after him as he set off down the entranceway towards the row of cells.
Reaching the end and checking both ways, they found no guards along the hallway, and Jace and Isabelle crept down the cells with ease, searching for the one that Magnus was being held in. A breathy grunt of pain sharpened their attention and the two exchanged a glance, subtly treading quickened steps across the polished floor.
Isabelle held a hand to stop Jace as they reached the stone sidewall of one of the cells, peering round to the glass front. Her breath caught and she waved an affirmative hand to Jace, who began decoding the lock on the door to the prison while Isabelle turned her attention back to the occupants.
Inside was Magnus, shackled to a chair, runes burning across the metal cuffs. He wasn't screaming like when they had first taken him; he just stared up at the ceiling, rigid in the shackles, chest heaving for breath. Tears caught the harsh lights as they streamed down his cheeks.
A shadowhunter stood in front of him, their stele pressed, glowing, against the chains. It eased away and Magnus slumped limp in the chair as the runes died into blankness. His eyes were barely open now, fluttering eyelashes struggling to part. The shadowhunter grabbed his chin, tilting his head up with an unnecessary amount of force.
"You thought this would end, did you?"
Magnus didn't speak; Isabelle wasn't even certain he could speak anymore. She flinched as the shadowhunter slammed a fist into the warlock's jaw, and anger coursed through her that anyone would treat Magnus so harshly. The Clave insisted on adhering to the accords, but here they were torturing downworlders.
The door chimed their entrance and Isabelle spun to follow Jace as he marched into the cell. She went straight for the shadowhunter, knocking them unconscious with a single hard slam against the glass wall of the cell and allowing their body to flop limply to the floor. Turning back, her heart sunk right down to her stomach.
Jace was stood beside Magnus, gently pushing him to sit upright in the chair. Two fingers pressed to his pulse point. Magnus's eyes were shut and he refused to even stir at the contact.
"Jace?" Isabelle asked, unable to mask the fear in her voice.
"He's okay," Jace muttered, though he didn't sound confident. "He's alive."
Magnus moved suddenly, head lolling limply as his chest hitched in a cough that flecked blood across his lips. A grimace of pain crossed his expression. It was not a positive sign. The pain was still there, still present, but perhaps it was simply as a result of his burned wrists rubbing against the shackles.
"Magnus," Isabelle gasped, dropping to her knees to undo the chains around his wrists and ankles. "Magnus, can you hear me?"
The warlock grunted softly, barely conscious, but his eyes cracked open a sliver. Isabelle forced herself not to let her expression show, but she startled briefly to find golden cat's eyes in place of Magnus's deep brown irises. The pain must have been excruciating for him to lose control of his glamour.
"He okay...?" Magnus mumbled through a mouthful of blood.
Isabelle shook her head in confusion. "Who?"
"Alec... 's he okay...?"
Eyes narrowing in grief, Isabelle glanced up to Jace, who absently put a hand to the side of Magnus's head to let him rest against his hip. It was such a simple, powerful display of emotion from her brother and Isabelle cast him a soft look. Magnus wasn't even concerned for himself; he was just worried about Alec.
"He's okay," Jace promised quietly. "He's gone to deal with those bastards who did this to you."
Magnus tensed softly, drawing in a shuddering breath. "Alec..." he whispered, almost as if pleading to the absent shadowhunter. "Alec..."
Isabelle took his hand and squeezed lightly. "Magnus, look at me. He's not here, but Jace and I are, and we're gonna help you, okay?"
Magnus blinked hard, his eyes squeezing shut for a long moment, a new clarity there when they reopened. "Isabelle..."
"There we go," Isabelle encouraged.
She ducked under Magnus's arm to bring it around her shoulders, grabbing his forearm as she stood—carefully avoiding his damaged wrist—and hauling him up in the process. He didn't scream or cry out, physical movement clearly not an irritation of his pain. Jace wrapped an arm around his lower back to support him on the other side as it proved difficult for Isabelle to manoeuvre him alone.
"Magnus, you need to walk, okay?" Jace urged after having to brace a hand against the warlock's chest to stop him from listing forwards.
"I'm trying..." replied Magnus in a voice so faint and hoarse that Jace regret letting him speak at all. The warlock turned his head to face Isabelle, his eyes dark and confused. "Where's Alec...?"
"We're gonna get you to him now," Isabelle promised, eyes as kind as her voice as she cast the warlock a sympathetic glance. "He loves you so much. You know that, don't you?"
Magnus didn't respond.
Once they ducked into the tunnel, he prised himself from their hold, leaning himself up against the wall and wiping his mouth against the sleeve of his shirt. It didn't clear the blood completely. In trying to wipe it away, Magnus had mainly succeeded in smudging it down his skin. He gave up trying to clean it away. Instead, he watched the two shadowhunters as they hauled the wall back upright, sealing it in place before turning to face him.
It was difficult to see at first, in the new light—or lack thereof—but their eyes soon adjusted to the change, enough to see where they were going at least.
"We need to move," said Jace, although his eyes shone with sympathy in the torchlight.
Magnus nodded, shying away from Isabelle as she moved to help him. "I'm fine," he muttered. "I can walk by myself. I don't need your help."
The shadowhunters exchanged anxious glances, but Isabelle nodded stiffly. She couldn't take her eyes off the burns circled around Magnus's wrists, the bead of blood at the corner of his mouth. The warlock was a mess. The Clave guards had beaten and tortured him within an inch of his immortal life, but still Magnus refused to be aided.
They set off at a steady pace—a slight stumble to begin on Magnus's part—and began the tedious journey down the ceaseless passage of damp rock.
The door they had escaped through had been lost from sight when Magnus's steps began to slow. His feet dragged across the stone ground as his hand trailed the wall to offer some kind of support for his weary body. Isabelle walked beside him, Jace in front, casting anxious glances back to the pair every few seconds. It was impressive how long Magnus managed to go on for, weakening gradually with every passing minute, but eventually he came to a stop, heaving for breath as he leaned a shoulder against the wall.
"I can't…" he began, almost too breathless to even speak. "I can't go on…"
"You have to," Isabelle urged, risking a touch to his arm, withdrawing when Magnus flinched. "Magnus, please, you're exhausted. You have to let us help you."
Magnus shook his head, recoiling from her touch again when she tried to reach for him. "I don't want—" he began heatedly, then closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I just… It hurts to be touched."
Isabelle blinked rapidly. It was a rare thing for Magnus to willingly show weakness in front of them. The Clave's 'methods' were less than kind and the agony runes had clearly caused the warlock excruciating pain, if the lowered glamour was anything to go by. Apparently, that pain was still present, even after they had freed him from the shackles.
The light dimmed in his eyes suddenly and Magnus stumbled forward, smacking his head on an overhanging rock before Jace could steady him. Cursing softly, Jace lunged forward and scooped the collapsing warlock up in his arms, holding Magnus secure against his chest and glancing to Isabelle in panic.
Isabelle hurried to check Magnus over, breathing out steadily as she wiped a smear of blood from his skin. "It's okay. It's not deep. He's just knocked himself out."
Jace grimaced at the cut the rock had opened on Magnus's forehead. "Alec's gonna be pissed."
"He was gonna be pissed either way," Isabelle pointed out, gesturing to Magnus. "At least we can help him now."
"How are we getting him to the apartment like this?" Jace asked, uncomfortably aware of all the flaws in their less-than-perfect plan. There hadn't been time to work out all the issues. They just needed to get Magnus to safety.
Isabelle waved an absent hand, scooping her phone from her back pocket. "I've got it covered," she said, pressing the contact and lifting the device to her ear. "Simon, hey," she greeted, casting Jace a chiding look when he rolled his eyes. "Listen, I need a favour."
Simon met them topside of the station, parking his van as close to the meeting point as possible. Despite the crowded roadsides, he managed to wedge his van into a gap within twenty yards of the underground opening and, when he saw Isabelle and Jace emerge—the latter holding an unconscious Magnus in his arms—he hurried out of the driver's seat to open the back for them.
"What happened?" he asked in a panicked urgency as he watched Jace climb into the back to set Magnus down on the floor. "Clary called yesterday, told me Magnus had been arrested and to stay away in case The Clave started kicking off about all downworlders who were close to you."
"They tortured him," said Jace, his worry surfacing in a bluntness to rival his parabatai.
Isabelle grabbed Simon's arm in support when his eyes blew wide at the news. "We need to get Magnus to his apartment. Alec and Clary said they'd meet us there."
Simon nodded hurriedly, gesturing absently for Isabelle to enter the passenger side while he rushed to the driver's door. Slamming it shut, his head turned to face the back. Jace was knelt over Magnus, using his sleeve to clean some of the blood away from the jagged gash in his forehead. There were terrible burns ringing the warlock's wrists too. Whatever heat had caused them had clearly been very intense; the charred flesh was raw and garnet-like where the skin had seared away.
Simon blanched to think at how Alec would react to seeing Magnus in such a state.
Suddenly, the warlock stirred, wincing softly. His eyes fluttered open. Simon had to bite back an audible gasp of awe as he saw the golden cat's eyes that signified Magnus's warlock mark. Jace leaned over him, murmuring something only for Magnus with a forcibly encouraging smile giving a tilt to his lips. Whatever Jace had said, Magnus replied with a stiff nod.
"Is he okay?" Simon wondered aloud, sharing an anxious glance with Isabelle.
Jace glanced up, determination sharp in his eyes, dampened with a deep worry that he didn't quite manage to conceal.
"Just drive."