"Can I help you?" Magnus asked Maryse, who stood speechless. Clary could hardly blame her. She also had a hard time looking Magnus in his cat eyes. The Magnus of the twenty-first century was covered head to toe with glitter and feathers. This version of him resembled a gentleman of sorts. He wore a dark grey suit, and there wasn't a bottle of hair gel anywhere near his head. Clary thought it made him look older, and more like what the high warlock of Brooklyn should.
Maryse cleared her throat and said, "Are you Magnus Bane?" She tried to look genuinely curious or confused. She couldn't decide which to be.
His eyes narrowed. "Depends on who's asking. Did the Institute direct you to me?" Clary watched as his eyes flicked to Alec before returning to Maryse.
"Yes," she said, "and we thought you could help us with a… situation we're in."
Magnus grimaced and muttered under his breath. "I am not open for hire. I swear, help one of your kind out, and the next thing you know, they start piling up outside your door looking for favors. Go tell Mrs. Branwell I cannot help."
He was about to retreat back into his house before Jace spoke up. "Woosley sent us!"
Magnus stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn around, but Jace could hear him say, "Woosley Scott?" Jace nodded, but didn't say a word. Magnus contemplated his decisions for a second, then stood to the side. "Come in."
Maryse was the first to enter, then Jace, Clary, Alec, Isabelle, and finally Simon, who was getting a rather unnerving glare from Magnus. If Magnus was questioning Simon's presence with a group of Shadowhunters or the fact he was walking in broad daylight, he said nothing. The door swung shut behind them, leaving the group standing awkwardly in Magnus's entry way.
"Well, look lively," Magnus said while pushing Simon into Isabelle. "The sitting room is just past the door at the end." Clary thought she heard something about a will, but Jace had already taken her hand into his to lead her down the hall.
Magnus's apartment in Brooklyn looked just as similar to his in London as he did to his past self. She remembered the mismatched furniture doused with glitter and his scarves covering every available surface. Instead, the place looked orderly and well taken care of. The decor all matched the same dull gray of the city and coats and hats rested in their respectable places. Clary thought she saw another jacket resting on the hook, but she barely had time to process this before Jace pulled her into the sitting room.
A fire warmed Clary to the bone as she stepped across the threshold. There were a couple sofas and armchairs all centered around a table, which was by the way, housing a small tea set complete with cookies and lace napkins.
Jace eyed the table as the rest of them took seats around him. Magnus, without a place to sit, stood in front of the fire, letting the flames lick his silhouette. Jace had to admit he looked quite impressive there, much more how a warlock should look than sparkly. He cleared his throat to say, "Expecting company?"
Magnus scowled at Jace, and Clary almost believed they were back home. "I would expect someone of your situation to show a little more respect for someone who kindly invited you into their home. I didn't have to let you in, but if Woosley sent you, it could be interesting."
"Mr. Bane," Maryse cut in, stopping Jace in his tracks of formulating a witty response, "we would be so thankful if you could help us with a predicament we're in."
Magnus turned his gaze from Jace to Maryse, who was looking at him with pleading eyes. He contemplated her for a moment, and Clary was afraid he would send them away. But he sighed and ran his fingers through his non-spiky hair. "Normally I wouldn't do this sort of thing, but times are changing. What can I help you with?"
"Have you ever heard of a warlock being able to send people back in time using a portal?" Maryse asked bluntly.
Magnus furrowed his brow. "A portal? I've never heard of such a thing. Maybe you should be talking to Henry Branwell about this sort of thing-" he paused as the real question in Maryse's words sunk in. "Back in time? Are you saying you were sent back in time?" Magnus was pointing his finger at them, as if gesturing to them would help answer his question.
"That's exactly what she said," Jace scoffed. "Were you not listening?"
"I would tell you to mind your manners, but it seems they aren't required where you come from. By your accents you sound American, but I have met someone from there and she seems more pleasant than you."
Jace was standing up now with Clary trying to pull him down. "Jace," she hissed.
"Simon, please escort Jace out of the room," Maryse said through gritted teeth.
Simon looked helplessly at Isabelle. Isabelle grimaced as she thought of Simon having to drag a kicking Jace from the room. She didn't know what to say to him. Instead, it was Jace who spoke. "Touch me Daylighter and you're dead."
"A little late for that," Simon said in a small voice, clearly trying to ease the tension in the room. He went up to Jace and pulled at the arm Clary was holding onto. Jace reluctantly followed Simon out while Clary was mouthing apologies to Simon.
"Come in Will," Charlotte called through the cracked door. Will came in out of breathe and with a purpose. Charlotte almost never saw Will like this except when it came to Jem. Or Tessa, she thought. He tried to hide his affection, but it was clear to Charlotte Will loved Tessa with as much passion as Jem. She felt sorry for the poor boy and wished there was something she could do to comfort him.
"Charlotte, Cyril came to Tessa and I in the library talking about a group of shadowhunters who appeared in front of the Institute like an apparition. There was also a vampire who could walk in broad daylight. I followed them to a downworld market, where I found one talking to Woosley Scott about Magnus. I left just as they reached his door."
Charlotte was taken aback. Partly for Will's bizarre story, but also for his tone of voice. He sounded not like the stubborn boy she knew, but like a true shadowhunter. She sat back in her chair and thought about the best course of action.
"You said they appeared out of nowhere?" she asked him.
Will nodded. "They were dressed in… strange clothing, nothing people in London should be wearing. They also had an accent, probably American like-"
"Me," said a voice from the door. Will turned around to see Tessa glide into the room. She looked pale in her dark gown.
"Ah, Tessa," Charlotte exclaimed. "How is Jem?"
At Jem's name, Will closed his eyes in shame. How could he have left his parabati in a time of need. He should have stayed to look after Jem and trusted Magnus to report back to Charlotte on the matter. But you didn't know they were going to see Magnus, a voice told Will. That at least made Will's stomach stop churning with guilt.
"He's awake and doing fine," she said softly. There was something in her voice that made him uneasy, but she smiled nonetheless. "What were you two discussing?"
Charlotte looked at Tessa and smiled. "A group of shadowhunters who appeared outside the gate."
Tessa's eyes widened. "Are they still here?"
"No." It was Will's voice this time. "They are at Magnus's at the moment, but I don't know how long they plan on staying. What should we do?" He directed his question to Charlotte.
Charlotte thought about their options. With Mortmain still around, their resources should be put towards stopping him and his automatons. But not doing anything could have serious consequences if those shadowhunters turned out to be as bad as Mortmain. She looked at Will, who was counting on her to send him back in there. She decided he had enough and should stay with Jem as he recuperated. Finally, after a minute of weighing her options, she said, "We'll call on Magnus Bane."
