15
The late afternoon light was fading away along the western horizon and darkness chased it back over the tops of the trees as the last glimmers sparked off the surface of Lake Matilija. The smell of char was sharp in the air from the smoke rising to the north, and Jace tested the wind again carefully.
He had set up a base camp along highway 33 just above Ojala with the hopes that the road would provide a sufficient fire break and safe escape route if things got too hot. He was counting on having the lake as an option for retreat if the dragon fire proved to be too much for Max and Magnus. The town had been evacuated hours ago, but it had been easy to slip past the barricades with his stolen prize and its deadly contents; a shiny red fire engine.
Sloping mountains enfolded the ragtag band of Shadowhunters and the pair of warlocks where they were scattered across the roadway around the lone firetruck, its red and white lights flickering hypnotically to give the scene a pulsing life of its own that ticked steadily closer to the pending battle. The truck's headlights had been left on, shining northward along the pavement toward where the fires were still burning out of control miles away.
Izzy, Simon, Rafe, and Max had arrived soon after the camp had been set up, and there had been a great deal of fierce hugging as the boys were reunited with their fathers. Jace was standing on top of the rig, surveying the others as they made ready to fight what he hoped wouldn't be another losing battle. He took a quick head count. Unlucky thirteen.
Carolina Monteverde flashed a thumbs up at Jace from the south side of their camp as she jogged easily back up the deserted highway. "It's all clear, all the way down to Ojala," she called. The Argentine Shadowhunters had been out scouting for over an hour to make sure there weren't any Mundanes left in the area. Common courtesy, Jace had insisted, when dealing with dragon demons.
He jumped down and went over to the side of the road behind the firetruck where a handful of crates from the Adamant Citadel sat open. Simon was testing the draw on a bow nervously as Jace clapped him on the shoulder from behind, startling him.
"Jace," he gasped.
"Yeah, just me," Jace reassured him as he leaned against the crate Simon had been rooting through. "Not a dragon. Yet."
"So, uh, you're super sure that it is dragons, right?" Simon fidgeted with a quiver of runed arrows. "Like, I mean, how do you know?"
Jace brushed his golden hair back out of his eyes with one black-gloved hand and shook his head wistfully. "Well, dear Simon, not to put too fine a point on it, but what goes up must come down, and after the first few giant, steaming piles of..." he trailed off as he caught sight of Izzy standing a few feet behind Simon. She arched an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest, unimpressed. "...tracks. Um. You can see where they landed." Izzy's nails drummed along her arm in warning as her dark eyes bored disapprovingly into her adopted-brother's. Simon looked bewildered at the loss of bravado, and Jace flashed a dazzling smile to cover. "And you know, the part where over 60,000 hectares of forest are already toast. It's a big tip-off."
Simon held up his hand cautiously. "So, what you're saying is, it could just not be dragons, right?"
A look of hurt clouded Jace's features. "I thought you, more than anyone, would be excited," he pouted.
"Oh, I'm excited," Simon protested faintly. "But for like, level 7 dragons. I'm not sure I'm ready for raid boss dragons right now."
Jace pushed away from the crate, and Izzy's watchful eyes, and moved over to join Alec and Magnus as they worked out the strategy with Max for the two warlocks in the battle to come. "Oh, where's mister 'I-killed-two-Greater-Demons' now?" Jace swore under his breath.
He had already outfitted himself heavily from the Adamant Citadel cache, and had been forced to admit that Alec had been right about going to the Sisters. His thoughts strayed to the case Alec had showed him in private. They had both agreed that it needed to be saved for their most desperate hour, but Jace found himself wondering if they might have underestimated their need tonight. Thirteen against even just one dragon... it might be a closer fight than he would care to admit.
True night was settling in around them when Jace caught sight of powerful headlights cutting through the darkness, coming up from the south. Alec, Magnus, and Max turned their heads as one to follow Jace's line of sight, and a handful of heavy, military-looking trucks cruised up the highway toward them.
"It's okay, they won't be able to see us," Jace said unnecessarily.
The lead trucks rolled through the camp and stopped on the far side while the trailing vehicles swerved in to cut off the southern route. One came to a halt in the middle of the staging ground, just next to the stolen firetruck.
"Yeah, I think they can see us," Simon said sarcastically, already raising his hands in surrender.
The driver's door on the centre truck opened and a darkly-handsome man in his late thirties stepped out. An eye-patch covered his right eye and threaded back through his lush black hair casually, an old injury that had simply become part of the legend. The black jacket of his gear was detailed in silvery-white runes, and Jace groaned when he recognized the Centurion Executor emblem on the man's shoulder and cuff. He couldn't stand that jacket, or the man who wore it.
Other doors were opening, and more Centurions in regular gear were piling out onto the pavement. The Buenos Aires Shadowhunters dropped their hands to their weapons and faced outward at the threat, back-stepping slowly to form a tighter group to defend. A few of the Centurions lifted their crossbows defensively. Magnus stepped in front of Max protectively, and he saw Izzy do the same for Rafe across the road with Simon.
The one-eyed Centurion picked out Jace's scowling face and he threw his arms out wide in mock delight, cutting the tension in the air. "Herondale!"
Jace clenched his teeth in an approximation of a smile. "Rosales." He gave the barest of nods with his chin at the other man. "I thought you were on vacation for the summer."
Diego Rosales waved for his Centurions to stand down and then lowered his arms. "I was, until some idiot got himself thrown out on another sabbatical."
Jace grinned sheepishly. "Ah, yeah. Sorry about that. I didn't know they'd call you in to cover me." He rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. "How are Tara and the kids?"
The Centurion rolled his eye and otherwise ignored Jace, turning to face Alec instead. He nodded respectfully. "Consul."
The rogue Shadowhunters all took turns exchanging surprised looks with one another, and the Argentines took their hands away from their weapons slowly.
Alec lifted his eyebrows at Diego. "You're not going to arrest me, Executor?"
Diego shook his head, still smiling at managing to find this tiny band of rebels in the vastness of the Los Padres National Forest. "It wouldn't be the first time that I've made a judgement call while on assignment to put what was good ahead of what was right, Consul." He threw a glance over his shoulder at the assembled Centurions behind him, and then winked conspiratorially at Alec. "If you really were here, you must have escaped the notice of my entire team."
Jace blew a breath out through his nostrils sharply in annoyance at the swagger of the Centurion Executor. "Hey, is that winking or blinking for you?"
Diego continued to ignore Jace. "In fact, when I received override instructions from Alicante to come to your aid, there were suddenly many more Centurions available for the mission, and they were all just as eager to 'not see' you if we chanced to cross paths here."
"Override orders?" Jace interjected. "Whose?" Maybe Everett is finally getting it together.
As a reward for contributing more than snide comments to the conversation, Diego favoured Jace with an answer. "The validation code belonged to Cinder Whitescar." He looked back at where Alec was standing thunderstruck by the news. "It looks like you still have friends in Alicante, Consul."
Diego lifted his arm and signalled to the two-dozen or so Centurions waiting for instructions, dispatching them swiftly, and then he nodded to Magnus and Max cordially. "I'm going to need you to provide cover for us if you can manage, and it would be best-"
"Hey!" Jace cut him off. "I've got this. I'm literally all over it." He made a shooing motion at Diego. "Go find your own warlocks. These ones are mine."
The Executor lifted his hands apologetically, and the Rosales family ring on the fourth finger of his right hand caught the last of the day's light. "My apologies. Please," he bowed theatrically. "Dazzle me, Herondale."
"More like bedazzle you, Rosales," Jace shot back. He looked up at the night sky and then to where Magnus was holding back a grin and Max was making no effort at all to hide his delight. "Light it up, guys."
Jace backed up to give them space to work, and unintentionally stepped into hearing range of a quiet conversation between Izzy and a very affronted-looking Simon.
"...I'm just asking if it might be possible for Lord Montgomery to have an eye-patch, just once," Izzy muttered.
"Oh, my God, Iz," Jace hissed at her. "Please don't tell me you're into the cyclops-pirate look!"
Mortified at being overheard, her eyes narrowed. "You're just jealous because he's younger and hotter than you," she fired back. Simon's expression flattened as he tried to pretend that he wasn't hearing this, but Jace's mouth fell open.
"Excuse you, but I'm Mr. December. He's only Mr. July." Jace threw his hands up in disgust. "Who even cares about July?" He huffed loudly. Predictably, Diego continued to ignore Jace from where he was standing with Magnus and Max, watching as twisting blue tendrils of magic rose steadily from their outstretched hands.
Seeing that she was getting under Jace's skin, Izzy pressed her advantage. "July is hot."
It was Simon's turn to gape at his wife. "Do you have this calendar?" The conversation was no longer even remotely quiet, and there was a good mix of interested listeners and Shadowhunters who were desperately trying to ignore it. Carolina was nodding unconsciously.
Izzy's face flushed. Busted. "No. Umm..." She looked around for inspiration, and her eyes settled on her brother's back. "Alec does."
Alec's dark head whipped around. "I most certainly do not," he objected indignantly.
"You should!" Magnus called out, not taking his eyes off the rising patterns of magic as they began to take shape over head, spinning, flashing, and pulsing in the darkness. "It's fantastic! Very tasteful seraph blade placement."
Jace, Simon, and Alec all had identical, appalled looks stamped across their faces, but were spared from further embarrassment as a deep roar of challenge rolled across the canopy from the north. It was go time.
"Very good, Herondale, you got its attention – now what?" Diego asked patiently as all eyes turned to watch for the demon's approach.
Jace flipped down the sleeves of his jacket after finishing one last pyr rune and pulled the zippers down along his forearms. "Honestly, I was working on that part when you drove up. You kind of interrupted me."
Diego stared back at Jace, unable to tell if the other Shadowhunter was joking or not.
"No, really," Jace insisted. "I'm working on variations of 'bring it down' and 'kill it to death' right now. What do you think?"
The Executor shook his head disbelief. "I think there will be a vacancy for the Mr. December shoot next year."
Jace held up one finger and poked it at the Centurion's chest. "You know what? I'm going to live through this just to make sure you don't get it. I swear by the Angel."
One of the Buenos Aires Shadowhunters with a particularly fine far-sight rune spotted the dragon demon as it soared closer, and she yelled back to the others, pointing into the darkness. Magnus and Max let their signal dissipate, already preparing their next cast together. Dragons were incredibly sensitive to magic, particularly in the Mundane world, and it had been easy to lure one in from such a short range with the irresistible taste of warlock magic in the air. Jace had likened it to trailing blood in the water if you wanted to find sharks. Alec had not appreciated the metaphor.
Flinging open the cab door of the firetruck, Jace reached in and turned the keys in the ignition, bringing it rumbling back to life from auxiliary. He felt a kick of adrenalin shoot through his blood and he dropped back to the ground then grabbed hold of one of the ladders mounted to the side of the truck to climb back on top.
The dragon levelled off and skimmed along the tops of the trees, still cloaked in darkness, but it was now visible without the use of runes. Flames dripped from its jaws, and Jace said a brief prayer to Raziel as it lined itself up for the first pass. He clutched the ladder and pressed himself into the side of the truck, ducking his head into his left arm to shield his eyes.
With a roar, the demon opened its maw wide and a torrent of fire flooded down, strafing down the highway directly toward the staging ground. The firelight illuminated the dragon from below, showing a blackened underbelly of interlocking scales that may have once been red, but had become a dark, mottled mess in whatever demon realm it had come from. Sharp, black spines rose in a crest along its head, and its eyes were burning red orbs in the night. Great wings of the deepest scarlet were snapped tight as the monster glided right at them, streaming death.
Just outside the perimeter, the fire smashed down against an invisible wall of magic. Blue steam hissed upwards above the faded median line painted on the highway as the demon fire fell in a rain of destruction, and Magnus yelled in a combination of fury and strain from holding the shield in place as the dragon passed and the assault relented. Crossbow bolts from the Centurions twanged upward and skittered off the armoured underside of the dragon.
Magnus' chest heaved and he looked up at Alec with fear in his eyes. "We can't hold against that for long!"
Max took a deep breath, his eyes still tracking the dragon's flight, and he lifted his hands confidently. "We don't have to hold for long, dad, just for long enough!" His arms were sheathed in a navy glow up to his elbows, and the shield above the Shadowhunters pulsed strongly as he added his strength to his father's.
Jace heard Magnus' warning, and kicked himself up the ladder in double time, his heavy boots thudding along the roof of the truck as he ran for the back. Diego pulled himself up over the edge just as Jace threw himself behind the controls of the deck-mounted monitor.
He swung the nozzle around and almost knocked the Centurion off the truck with it as he struggled to track the demon's flight. "What the hell are you doing?" Jace shouted.
"What the hell are you doing?" Diego yelled back.
The dragon tilted far to the left, almost seeming to balance on one wing as it turned around for another pass. Jace lined it up in his sights and counted steadily under his breath, trying to correctly gauge its speed. The reservoir tank in the truck wasn't very big; he was probably only going to get one shot to get this right. He was going to have to risk a third pass to get his timing down.
Irritated by its failure to roast the group of humans, the dragon roared again and swept past, spewing down another punishing deluge of flames that rolled off the barrier. The rush of air from its massive wings rocked Jace back from the controls and he tightened his grip, gritting his teeth and trying to see through slitted eyes.
"Whatever you're going to do, do it now, Jace!" Magnus howled from his knees, staggered by the crushing force of the demon's attacks.
"Get it down lower!" Jace bellowed back, flicking open a valve hurriedly.
"Oh, for the love of-" Magnus groaned loudly. He said something to Max that Jace couldn't hear, but he saw the young warlock nod quickly.
Alec shouted to the others, "Take cover! Get down! Pyr runes at the ready!"
Grass fires burned along the side of the highway where they lay outside the protection of the warlock's shield, and the firelight flickered brightly across the pavement as Shadowhunters threw themselves inside the Centurion trucks, slamming doors closed as the dragon turned again in the distance.
Izzy's dark eyes were huge as she watched the demon line itself up for another run at the camp, and she threw a worried look sideways at where Rafe was pressed against the passenger-side window with anguish etched across his face, eyes locked on his brother still standing outside by the firetruck.
"Max..." he whispered.
Simon was breathing heavily in the seat behind her and fighting with the quiver of arrows across his back where it had snagged on the ceiling. As the dragon came in for the third pass, she reached between the seats and crushed his hand with hers, unable to look away from the demon's approach.
They could see Jace atop the rig at the controls for the turret, and Diego crouched down low next to him. Alec and Max were sheltering in the lee of the truck, but Magnus had stepped out around the front, back-lit by the glare of the headlights.
As the dragon winged closer, Diego yelled hoarsely to the Shadowhunters, "BRACE!"
Jaws splitting wide again, the monster let another inferno pour from its throat as it raced up the highway again.
In an explosion to rival any Fourth of July celebration, the air high above the staging area erupted in a riot of fireworks that boomed and crackled through the night, sending showers of multicoloured sparks and glitter raining down. The dragon was caught off guard, and instinctively dipped lower to avoid the burst of noise and light.
Flames licked through the shield in places, and the air flash-heated dangerously as the protection wavered under Max's sole control. The boy screamed in defiance just as Jace squeezed hard on the release for the rail gun and a jet of water shot out at over 1000gpm, scoring a hit along the left side of the dragon. Jace wrenched the turret around to keep the stream trained on the demon, his teeth clenched hard in focus.
A horrible screech ripped out of the dragon as the water sliced into it, and Jace's steady aim completely severed the beast's left wing with a sizzling, burning smell in the air that mingled unpleasantly with the smoke from the distant forest fires.
"What the hell was that?" Diego hollered at Jace over the demon's agonized roaring.
"Holy water!" Jace whooped, leaping away from the controls to follow the dragon's descent.
Unable to stay aloft with only one wing, the demon crashed down into the highway and skidded along heavily. Shadowhunters poured out of the trucks and raced to follow it, seraph blades springing to life in their hands.
Simon swung out of the backseat and gaped at the truck-mounted turret for a moment. "Holy blessed water cannon, Batman..." he breathed before his wife grabbed his arm and dragged him after the others.
Rafe was the only one to run backwards instead of forward, dashing to his brother's side where Max had collapsed. Magnus and Alec were already kneeling over the younger warlock in concern.
Simon and Izzy had almost caught up with the main group a little over a hundred yards down the highway, when the dragon reared back on its hind legs and used its remaining wing for balance on a wickedly-curved vestigial claw. Glowing red and orange scales dotted the crest of its spine as it drew its head back, breathing in deeply. The Shadowhunters dove wildly to the sides of the highway to get out of the deadly, and literal, line of fire, sliding into the ditches just off the soft shoulder of the road.
Izzy threw up her hand to protect her eyes from the searing brightness of the flames, and she measured the distance between herself and the dragon's range as it swung its head back and forth to widen the swath of destruction. Gotta be fast.
"Izzy!" Simon yelled as she suddenly sprinted forward, and he tried in vain to catch a grip on her sleeve. She pounded up the highway in three-inch heels, her boots laced tightly to her knees, fearless in the face of fire as her dark hair streamed out behind her when it fell loose and her chopsticks clattered to the ground.
Just as the raging wall of flames sputtered out, Izzy sprang forward, her whip uncurling at her side. The fire had blinded the dragon to her rush, and she took advantage of the element of surprise in a moment of respite from the inferno. She could feel her pyr runes fading in the intense heat. Gotta be fast, she repeated to herself, a litany to keep herself alive.
She fixed her eyes on the dragon's maw and came in low and fast, snapping her right arm forward with a grunt of effort as the length of electrum slapped against the scaly flesh and coiled tightly. She grasped the handle of the whip in both hands and yanked backwards with all of her strength, willing the wire to cut deep, and she was rewarded with a muffled roar of pain as the dragon tried desperately to open its mouth and its own strength forced the hated electrum deeper into its flesh, biting through the smaller scales. She released her grip quickly, wary of being dragged into range of its talons.
The Centurions scrambled out of the ditches and fell into formation around the dragon. Unable to properly use its most deadly weapon, small flames streamed from its nostrils as it snorted in rage and pain. Its heavy tail whipped around, catching two of the closest Centurions off-guard with a heavy blow that sent them flying through the night.
Slashing with its remaining wing, the demon backed away slowly, growling in its throat, but it couldn't escape the circle of the Shadow World's most elite killers. Seraph blades shone as the Centurions darted in toward the dragon in sequence, drawing it first one way and then the next. Jace dodged and dipped among them until he managed to shear through whatever the dragon equivalent of a left ankle was with Diego's help.
Completely disabled on one side, the dragon fell heavily, and the Shadowhunters moved in for the kill, slicing in with surgical precision while ducking attacks from the monster's right wing. In less than a minute, the demon began to crumble in on itself, its life-force spent in the Mortal world.
Everyone was breathing hard around the patch of pavement where dragon blood was rapidly fading into mist. Simon stared in awe and numbly held out the pair of chopsticks to his wife without taking his eyes off the ground.
"I don't know if I should feel happy or sad about killing a dragon," he said with a touch of confusion in his voice.
"Happy," Jace called out. "Definitely happy."
Alec, Magnus, and Rafe were coming down the highway slowly, with the older Shadowhunter carrying Max gently in his arms. Jace sprinted back to them with fear in his eyes, and Izzy and Simon were hard on his heels.
"It's okay," Magnus said, seeing Jace's distress. "He's just exhausted. He'll be fine with a bit of rest."
"Consul!" One of the Centurions shouted, pointing further down the road that led down to Ojala. "Someone's coming!"
Headlights wound slowly toward them, and Simon shot a look at Jace. "Think they can see us?"
"I don't even know anymore," Jace answered tiredly, scanning the sky. "But there was definitely more than one dragon, and I'm more worried about that than an ominous minivan. We have no way to fight these things in the air, and I'm quietly freaking out about that right now, okay?"
"I'm very qualified to deal with minivans," Simon assured him, moving away from the others to intercept the vehicle if it turned out that the driver could see them.
Fires still burned along the edges of the roadway, illuminating the battered and faded red minivan as it rolled to a stop. The engine cut out and the dome light inside clicked on to reveal a white-blond head ducking out of the door.
"Mark?" Simon gasped.
"People always seem so surprised to see me," the half-Shadowhunter answered lightly.
"I'm surprised," Simon sputtered. "I'm very surprised. How did you even find us?"
Mark tilted his head to one side and his fair hair fell back, exposing the slightly-pointed tips of his ears. "Even you should be able to hear them soon," he said dreamily.
"Hear what, Mark?" Simon asked, his voice climbing in panic. "More dragons? Because I'm okay with not hearing more dragons. Been there, done that, will get the T-shirt at my earliest possible convenience. Dragons are officially checked off my bucket list."
"We've got incoming!" Diego yelled over the group, pointing back toward the northern line, where the fires had advanced noticeably since nightfall. The orange-red glow of the flames lit the billowing smoke from below and gave the sky a sinister cast in the distance. Silhouetted against the nightmarish sky, the shadow of a second dragon was winging its way toward them.
Rayce bent low over his horse's neck as he raced through a sky that was filled with smoke and ash from the burning forest below. The pressure in his skull had lessened as the Hunt had drawn nearer to the blaze, and he knew in his sinking heart that he was running out of time; somewhere down there he would soon find the feast the Forest craved.
A monstrous shadow sliced through the haze below them in a flash of dark wings, and Rayce wheeled around, stunned. Was that a dragon? The other Hunters streamed past him, knifing northward toward their target, but Rayce urged his mount lower to follow the dragon, and as he dropped out of the clouds, he was surprised to see a lone firetruck standing abandoned with its lights flashing wildly in a ring of blocky vehicles.
Small scales along the dragon's back glowed orange and red for a moment just before it unleashed a gout of fire downward, and Rayce was astonished to see it break apart against a faint blue shield of magic. Someone's down there! He could almost swear that he could see the familiar light of seraph blades as the people raced back toward the flashing lights.
He reached into his cloak to withdraw the horn again, sounding a long, ringing note across the night to call the Hunters back to his side once more. Assorted steeds descended from above as the others watched him disdainfully.
"Bring it down," Rayce commanded, pointing at the dragon. "Protect whoever is down there!"
Vindictus glared back at Rayce. "We're not here for them, boy."
"Let them burn," Fiorinor hissed, recalled from his banishment on the moors by the first blast of the horn in the tunnels of the Seelie Court.
"They mean nothing to us," Azad added.
"I didn't ask for your opinions," Rayce snapped. "Just do it! And you will not attack anyone or anything except that dragon," he added carefully.
With murder glinting in their eyes, the Hunters were forced down into the fray by the compulsion of the cloak, and Rayce felt soiled inside. I have to do it, he said to himself. They won't survive.
Magnus staggered after holding back the newest blast of fire, and Rafe was there immediately, lifting his father's arm across his shoulders while Alec continued to carry Max as they made a run back for the comparative safety of the base camp.
"I can't... I can't keep this up," Magnus mumbled weakly.
Centurions loped along in a loose circle around them with their seraph blades shining brightly, staying close to lessen the burden that creating a larger shield caused Magnus.
"We'll think of something," Alec reassured him, holding Max more tightly and trying to force away the memories of rocking him like this as a child. It's going to be okay, he promised himself.
Mark ran easily at the front of the group alongside Jace, and they were among the first to get back to the staging area. Jace pointed wordlessly to the crates from the Adamant Citadel, and Mark immediately began rooting through the contents to find something that suited him.
A long blast on a horn cut across the sky above them, and Mark's head snapped up eagerly, his bifurcated eyes shining with excitement in the firelight.
"They're here," he breathed, closing his eyes with ecstasy written across his features.
"Who's here?" Jace asked. When no response came, he shook the other man by the arm. "Mark. Mark! Snap out of it!"
Mark blinked his eyes open slowly as if awakening from a dream, and then his gaze refocused on Jace. "I'm so sorry... I forget sometimes... the Hunt calls so strongly tonight. I have not felt like this in years."
"The Hunt?" Jace said incredulously as Mark bent back over the edge of the crate, digging deeper toward the bottom.
As if on cue, riders dropped through the clouds above and intercepted the dragon as it was making the long turn for another pass. Like a swarming cloud of deadly wasps, the Hunters flitted around the massive form of the dragon and captured its attention. Twisting in mid-air, the demon loosed a burst of fire at the Faerie steeds, but they were gone before it could get a lock on them.
Emerging triumphantly from the cache, Mark held a long coil of electrum wire that had been carefully bundled by the Iron Sisters. Before Jace could ask what exactly the slightly unstable Shadowhunter thought he was going to do with it, a black horse landed lightly on flaming hooves next to the pair. Mark backed away in confusion from this stranger who bore Gwyn's mantle and studied him carefully, no doubt catching a glimpse of the Voyance rune on the back of Rayce's hand and the network of faded rune scars across the bare chest under the cloak.
"Jace?" The Lord of the Hunt tried to hide his amazement. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, you know," Jace replied airily, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture. "Dragons, raging infernos, almost certain death... the usual. You?"
Rayce didn't laugh or even smile. "There are Mundane firefighters trapped much further in, and the Hunt has been sent to... collect them... once their suffering ends."
Sobered at once, Jace threw a glance over his shoulder to where Alec was helping Max sit up while Magnus and Rafe watched anxiously. Almost as if he sensed his parabatai's eyes, Alec looked up and nodded once for him to go.
Jace looked back up at his nephew, his golden eyes burning brightly in the firelight. "Scooch forward, then. You've got room for one more on that nightmare."
Sweeping his cloak over to one side, Rayce made enough room for Jace to squeeze in behind him, and all doubt that he was doing the right thing was wiped from his mind after seeing the faces of the Shadowhunters. Nearly every one of them was staring at him, not in disgust, but in awe, and many in gratitude. This is what I'm supposed to be doing, Rayce said to himself fiercely.
Just as they lifted off, Jace twisted in the saddle and cupped his hands around his mouth to yell back down at the Shadowhunters he was leaving behind, "You're still not in charge, Diego! Mark's got a plan! Make it happen!"
All eyes turned toward the half-Faerie who still looked like he was barely out of his teens, and Mark shifted uncomfortably. Few here would even know his story after the Clave had sought to erase the embarrassment from their records, but one of them had a very good reason to know who he was.
"Mark... Blackthorn?" Diego said haltingly, stepping forward cautiously, uncertain of what the other man's reaction might be.
Blue and gold eyes snapped up at hearing his name, and they searched the dark features of the man for any hint of recognition. It had been twenty hard years for the Centurion, and the missing eye made it more difficult, but Mark quickly put two and two together. "Perfect Diego," he replied, mouth twisting with distaste. "Less than perfect now, it would seem."
"Is Christina..." he started to ask.
"Her name does not belong on your lips, trickster," Mark hissed venomously. "She is safely out of your reach."
Diego bowed his head in resignation. "I'm so sorry, Mark, for everything. After we-"
"Save your words, liar." He turned his face away to find someone else in the crowd to help him, and he found Simon and Izzy watching sadly. Their pity cut him, but he shoved it aside, hefting the coil of electrum again gleefully, his mercurial mood shifting again. "Come! We have a dragon to catch!"
Mark turned and sprinted away northward along the highway. Izzy smiled widely and followed after him. Simon looked up and might have mouthed 'Why me?', but he raced after his wife without another moment of hesitation.
Diego split his remaining Centurions, leaving a half-dozen of them with the Consul and his family until they could recover sufficiently, and then sent the rest to follow his rival. He stopped at the Adamant Citadel crates to find a second coil of electrum and looped it over one shoulder before dashing away.
Rubbing at his eyes tiredly, Max watched the Shadowhunters depart with guilt heavy in his stomach. They don't have any protection! His brother and fathers were beside themselves with worry, and Magnus was carefully checking his son's vitals when Rafe threw up his hands impatiently.
"Díos, this is crazy." He took his brother's hand in his own. "Take my strength, Max. You are more important to this fight than I am."
Alec and Magnus exchanged a glance laced with emotion as they were briefly transported back in time to a pick-up truck floating in the East River.
"He's right," Alec said, offering his hand to his husband. "We need you both." Magnus clasped his hand gratefully and opened a link between them immediately, but Max hesitated.
"Rafe... you'll miss out on everything..."
"Please," Rafael snorted. "I do not suffer from uncle Jace's terminal case of hero-itis. I have a much more rare condition called practicality. A pity that he seems immune to catching it." He grinned down at Max. "Do it, little brother."
Simon slapped a branch out of his face again and reached up for another handhold, huffing with annoyance. On one hand, he hated climbing trees, but on the other hand, his wife was above him and he had the best view possible. Unfortunately, she was quite a bit faster, and he was falling too far behind to properly appreciate her... skill.
"Hey, Spider-Woman, slow down up there, okay? I suck at climbing."
He heard her make a very unladylike noise, and then she called back down to him, "Do you want to try it in three-inch heels? Because that can be arranged. And don't even think about calling me Spider-Woman; I'm not into Jessica Drew."
"What!? Come on! She's so you!" Simon pulled himself up level with his wife as she expertly wound a few loops of electrum around the trunk and then edged down a branch with the rest of the coil in hand. She tossed it down into the waiting hands of a Centurion and then watched as it was heaved back up into the boughs of a second tree across the road into the waiting hands of Carolina Monteverde.
"No way. I'd rather be Rogue." A wide smile spread across Izzy's generous mouth and her eyes sparkled as she hopped down a few branches. "I'd get to fly." The coil was dropped back down to the relay man in the centre of the road again and Izzy got ready to catch it.
"Okay, but that would be slightly fatal for me," Simon protested. "There are loads of other ways you could get to fly. And she doesn't start off with flight."
She snagged the bundle of electrum as it arced up and then passed it back to her husband to wrap another few loops around the trunk. "But I kind of like the idea of sampling other superpowers. Best free samples ever."
Simon tossed the lump back to her and then caught himself on a branch before plunging to his death as he overbalanced. "You need to reread those, honey. I don't think you fully understand the whole transference thing."
"Well," she replied as she made another good throw to the Centurion below. "Why don't you explain it to me in detail once we're done here."
"Oh, I will," Simon promised.
Mark paid no attention to the Shadowhunters busily rigging electrum across the highway behind him. Seeing Diego Rosales' face again had been an unwelcome blow from his past, but he had a far more difficult one to face now if his plan was to succeed. He turned his Hunter's eyes upward to watch the aerial battle still taking place between the demon and his former brothers. They lacked the weapons to properly harm the dragon, but they had the manoeuvrability that the Nephilim so desperately needed.
His sharp eyes picked out individual mounts, and he felt the names of the Hunters to whom they belonged dredge up different memories from his past. Would he ever forget their cruelty? Gwyn had only been able to do so much without losing face. He couldn't be seen to favour a half-breed like Mark.
Finally, he found the one he was searching for, and with only a slight hitch in his breath, he raised his fingers to his lips and let loose a shrill whistle that was achingly familiar. A white steed immediately dropped away from the circling, snapping fight above and fell like a star from the heavens.
White mane flying in the breeze, Windspear bore Kieran down to where Mark waited. The former Unseelie prince didn't dare to breathe when he saw who was standing in the pale moonlight with white-blond hair shimmering faintly to announce his presence. My Mark. His heart pounded in anticipation.
The horse landed lightly, red eyes burning in the darkness, and she nuzzled into Mark's shoulder familiarly. He reached up without even thinking to stroke her neck. The feel of the silky mane triggered memories that pulled at him like an undertow, begging him to let go and let himself be swept away and return to the Hunt once and for all. He closed his eyes and leaned in, inhaling the familiar, wild scent of the mount, absorbing the strength he felt radiating from her flanks.
Tears fell unbidden as he ducked his head, trying to hold on, but he had never imagined that it would feel like this after so many years. He squeezed his eyes tighter as a sob escaped from his throat and he struggled to master the frustration of only being Unbound and not being truly freed. He wanted to return. Wanted to feel the rush of the wind in his hair. Wanted the wild joy that came from diving hundreds of feet down through the air only to level off and spiral back into the clouds. More than anything though, he just plain wanted.
Kieran watched him through half-veiled eyes of black and silver that shone with need. Here was the proof that Mark had chosen wrongly. Here was all the validation he had ever needed in keeping their love alive for all these years. The years had left no trace on his Shadowhunter's face after all this time, and Kieran felt hope bloom inside his heart at the thought of starting over together. No more tricks, he swore. I can be the man he deserves.
"Mark..." he whispered, hesitant to break the silence that had lain between them for twenty years.
The Shadowhunter looked up and tear tracks streaked his cheeks. Inwardly, Kieran flinched to see him look so... devastated. Whatever hold the Hunt had on his heart was tearing him apart, and guilt twisted inside the Unseelie when he remembered his own part in deceiving Mark about being able to return to his family.
"Kier..." Mark drew in a shuddering breath, still trying to regain control. "I need you."
I need you, I need you, I need you. The whispered words echoed in Kieran's mind tantalizingly. Everything he had ever wanted was within reach again.
"Tell me," he murmured back.
"The Hunt... the dragon. The Shadowhunters can kill it, but they need you and our brothers to drive it toward the trap they're weaving with electrum wire." Mark gestured faintly back down the road to where a group of Nephilim were watching the deadly dance between the Fey and the demon as others finished tossing the coils back and forth. Kieran couldn't see any wire, but it was so fine that it would be nearly invisible in the darkness.
It wasn't precisely the need that he had been hoping for, but it had opened a crack in the door that slammed shut two decades ago.
"Ride with me," Kieran breathed, masking his excitement.
Mark looked up at him, aghast. "They'll kill me, Kier. They hate everything I am. Shadowhunter. Half-breed. Unbound. Only Gwyn's command stayed their hands, and I do not know if death would have released them from obeying his orders." He shook his head. "Please do not ask this of me."
Kieran's mind raced to find another way, but Mark was right. Better if the other Hunters did not see him. He trailed his fingers through Mark's hair lightly, just once. "Then I can wait, Mark. I told you once before; you are all that exists on the earth and under the sky that I do love. What I do tonight, I do for you."
With an aching tug under his ribs, Mark watched Kieran break into a gallop astride Windspear and then climb back into the night sky to brave the fury of a dragon. He sank to his knees and buried his face in his hands as his emotions twisted inside him. So close, but still so far.
"Remember her," Diego's voice called out in a tone of unmistakeable warning from the darkness behind him, snapping him back to reality and away from lonely glaciers under the northern lights. "You made a promise."
"I don't need you to tell me that," Mark seethed back over his shoulder. But inside, where he could be honest with himself, he did. Gathering up memories of his beautiful Christina, and the smiling faces of Lucas, Micaela, and little Esmeralda, Mark armoured himself in his love for his family and he felt the pull of the Hunt recede once more. He wrapped his arms around his chest as if to hold the pieces of himself together, and he whispered their names over and over as he had once done with the names of his brothers and sisters.
Don't forget.
"Why aren't you wearing a proper belt?" Jace shouted over the rush of the wind. "Or a shirt? What the hell am I supposed to hang on to?" He tried to wedge his fingers under the strap that held Gwyn's sword sheathed at Rayce's side, but it had sunk embarassingly low. He eyeballed the harness for the double-bladed staff Rayce wore and wondered if it would hold.
"I lost both," Rayce answered. "But I suggest that you hang on soon."
"You must be absolutely terrible at strip poker-" The black steed of the Lord of the Hunt plunged forward and Jace wasn't sure if he was screaming in exhileration or terror as he threw his arms around Rayce's waist. The steelwood shaft jammed painfully against his chest and he thumped his nephew hard on the leg to signal his disapproval.
They had left the other Nephilim and Hunters behind, galloping far to the north through thicker clouds of smoke as they crossed over areas that were actively burning. Rayce seemed to be guided by some inner instinct that Jace couldn't fathom, because he led them almost directly toward a forested parcel of land that backed up against a canyon. The giant hulk of a third dragon was diving in low along the edge of the flames and then back up, and Jace could see humans retreating through the woods. Firefighters, he noted in amazement. How had Rayce known?
The team looked to be in bad shape; they were cut off from the escape route they had prepared, and they were trying to stay ahead of the line of fire as it advanced unpredictably.
Rayce pointed as the dragon swooped down again and fanned the flames. "Its changing which way the fire is burning!" he yelled back at Jace. "They'll never see it coming – it'll look like some freak accident!"
Jace swore under his breath. A dragon that liked to play with its food. Great. Just great. The demon dived down again and puffed a harsh jet of fire through the trees back toward the firefighters, catching one of them as they ran from this unpredictable blaze. Faint screams reached the two Shadowhunters even where they hovered above the scene, and they wore identical expressions of horror.
"You need runes if you're gonna fight that thing," Jace said over the roar of the fire below.
"No stele," Rayce grunted as he guided the steed closer, trying to avoid the dragon's notice.
Jace pulled his stele free from his jacket. "Don't worry, I've got you covered. Good thing you aren't wearing a-" Jace's voice choked off as he flipped up the edge of the cloak and found the bloody mess underneath. By the Angel, Jace thought, and I just crushed myself against him.
"What the hell, Rayce?" He started sketching iratzes immediately and he felt the younger Shadowhunter flinch away from the burn of the stele even as the lash marks began to close over. The Hunter's only response was to reach back and snatch the staff out of the way.
Darkly, Jace was drawn back to the travelling apartment he had shared with Sebastian for weeks. He could remember the same set of scars layered across a different pale back, and his heart broke to know that the son had not escaped the father's fate.
With the worst of the wounds closed over, Jace carefully began laying battle runes as Rayce shifted uncomfortably. Agility, Strength, Fortitude, and Endurance spiralled out from the stele, and Jace belatedly added a pair of pyr runes just as Rayce shrugged him away.
"Take it easy, Jace. My Faerie half isn't exactly fond of being Marked." The cloak fluttered back down across his back and he flexed his shoulders to clear the lingering discomfort.
"You seemed fine in Idris!" Jace tucked the stele back into his jacket and then zipped it back up. Really hope I don't need that again any time soon, he prayed.
"Sera's never hurt me," Rayce responded, almost too quietly to hear.
Below them, the dragon breathed a wall of fire across the retreat the firefighters were using. They were trying to get to the canyon that dropped off behind the tree line with the hope that the fire wouldn't be able to reach them once they were on solid rock, but the demon was determined to keep them penned up in a fiery box as it slowly constricted around them.
Jace assessed the situation, leaning over in the saddle to get a better look at what they were dealing with. The demon was huge; it had to be nearly 200ft long from nose to tail, and it was covered in thick scales. Thick scales that it might not feel too much through... "Can you get us on its back?"
Rayce twisted around incredulously. "Can I? Yes. Should I?"
"Also 'yes'," Jace supplied helpfully.
"I'm having a lot of trouble understanding how you've managed to live this long," Rayce said doubtfully as he took them lower and lower, staying in the dragon's blindspot directly above it.
"A healthy diet and exercise, to be honest," Jace answered. The Hunter just shook his head.
"Get ready," Rayce warned as he brought them level with the dragon's spiny back just as it swung around from sending another rush of air from its wings drafting back into the fire to turn it again, this time adding another torrent of flames to hasten the burning. More screams rose from below and panicked shouts for help cut through the air. Rayce dismissed his Faerie steed with a thought and both Shadowhunters dropped the last few feet to the hard, black scales of the demon.
Jace immediately flattened himself out and spread his arms and legs for stability, digging his fingers in around the edges of the scales and not finding much to grip; they were tightly-packed. He felt the rough hide of the demon scratch up his face and he lifted his head gingerly to prevent himself from getting cheese-grated. Rayce stayed in a low crouch, his staff held ready in both hands.
Wind streamed past them, flattening their hair, and Rayce watched as if in slow-motion as the ground crept into view off the dragon's left side. "It's turning!" he yelled in warning.
Desperately, Jace tried to wedge his hands in deeper, but he felt his legs start to slide sideways as his boots failed to find purchase. A spiky black spine rose from one of the knobby bones along the dragon's back, but it was too far to try for now.
Rayce felt himself slipping, and he twisted to brace himself on his knees. Out of time to think, he slashed down into the scales and cut a pair of deep gouges with the twin adamas and electrum halves of his double-bladed staff. He jammed his hands into one of the wounds and Jace lunged forward to do the same, even as the flesh underneath squelched disturbingly.
The dragon roared as it realized it had passengers, and the turn suddenly became a roll as it tried to shake them free. Both Shadowhunters held on for dear life as the world spun dizzyingly and they hung suspended from their tenuous grips, their feet dangling fifteen stories off the ground.
"Rayce!" The scale that Jace was hanging onto started to peel back like a rotten toenail and he clutched at it frantically as he lurched lower. The next beat of the dragon's wings rocked the Shadowhunters and jarred the scale free entirely.
Jace screamed as he fell, his eyes locked on Rayce in terror, and he honestly thought that he had blacked out when the boy vanished, until he felt a pair of strong arms close around his chest for an instant. A horrible, sickening, squeezing pressure crushed in around him and then he felt the demon's scales under his knees again. Without pausing, Rayce grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.
"Go, go, go! Run with it! Don't stop!"
The dragon was still spiraling lazily, and they ran along its underbelly in the most dangerous log-roll of their lives. Rayce dove forward as a wing came pounding downward, and Jace narrowly missed getting sent on another impromptu skydiving attempt.
"Ra-ziel!" he swore, legs pumping to keep up with the spin.
The monster leveled off again, and they could see its head dip down and scan from side to side, no doubt searching for screaming bodies falling to the ground.
Rayce's mind was ripping through possible ways to disable the dragon as Jace fell to his knees again, retching from the sensation of shifting for the first time. The staff had already proven effective against the demon's armoured scales, but they didn't have time to rip it apart like that. Come on, he screamed at himself. Think!
He wracked his brain for anything he knew or had ever read about dragons, and time seemed to stand still for a moment as he received advice from the most unlikely source possible. "A dragon's eyes are its weakest point," Sirius Black had written to Harry Potter. He looked down at his staff and everything clicked into place.
"Jace! Come on! I've got it!" He pulled at the older Shadowhunter, who managed to push himself up while shaking his head.
Under their feet, some of the smaller scales on the dragon's back began to burn with an orange or red glow, and Rayce recognized what was happening a moment before the flames streamed backwards over them. He shoved Jace into the lee of one of the blackened spines and then dropped down on top of him, ducking as best he could under the cloak for whatever protection it might offer. It stood to reason that it couldn't be easily destroyed, and if it could, so much the better for Rayce if he didn't end up barbecued.
The heat was unbearable and he couldn't breathe; there wasn't enough oxygen for him and the firethat burned around him. Both men screamed from behind the meager cover of the bony protrusion and the cloak as the dragon tried to burn them off its back. Their pyr runes flared in response to the threat and protected them from the being crisped instantly.
When the inferno vanished, smoke rose from their clothes and Jace lifted his head in amazement when he realized they were both alive.
Rayce split his staff into its two halves and offered one to Jace. "Do not drop this!" he shouted.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" Jace hollered back, shaking the half-staff at him.
Stepping in quickly, Rayce pulled his uncle back into his arms one more time and then whipped his head back to sight his target; the demon's head. Shifting across the distance in a heartbeat, they now stood on one of the horned ridges above the dragon's glowing red eye. Rayce leaped across to the other side and raised his half of the steelwood staff high, its blade drinking in the light of the fire that glowed dully inside the monster's maw.
"One!" he yelled.
Catching on, Jace lifted his half. "Two!"
"THREE!" They shouted together as they plunged the blades down. Adamas and electrum sheared through the vulnerable eyes easily and the dragon went berserk under them.
Jace's gloves creaked as he tightened his hands into a death grip on the weapon and the demon bucked wildly, now flying blind. Rayce dropped suddenly, forcing the killing edge in deeper, searching for the brain underneath to end the fight swiftly. The older Shadowhunter immediately copied him, twisting the shaft as he bore down harder amidst the deafening shrieks coming from the dragon's throat.
The ground rushed up to meet them as the beast lost all control, and Rayce was halfway up to his elbows in gore before he realized the danger and ripped the staff back out.
Jace threw a terrified look down at the burning treetops that were close enough to see clearly and he wrenched his arm back. "Get us out of here!"
Rayce threw himself forward and collided with Jace, not pausing as he swept him up into his arms and shifted them away into mid-air for a short drop before summoning his Faerie steed once more. The horse lifted away from the falling bulk of the dragon as it writhed in its death throes, and Jace unclenched his eyes long enough to look up at his nephew's ashen face.
"My hero," he panted tiredly before letting his head fall back against Rayce's bare chest.
The demon's body smashed down through the trees and landed heavily inside a ring of fire before it began to dissolve and vanish back to its home dimension.
"No," Rayce whispered in horror.
One of Jace's eyes cracked open. "Hey, I didn't drop it." He lifted the piece of the staff and waved it. "It's all good."
"The Mundanes," Rayce breathed, bringing Jace back to his senses.
"What about them?"
Rayce looked down at where the dragon had landed, where silence had fallen, save for the crackle of the fire. "They were down there."
"Do you have any idea how much XP this would be worth?" Simon asked his wife as the demon's body began to smoke and dissipate from within the tangle of broken electrum wire and pieces of the trees that had been ripped out by the force of its impact with their trap. "Two dragons in one campaign."
Max high-fived his uncle weakly, completely drained from providing an encore round of protection for the Centurions who had waded into the melee against a dragon for the second time that night. Magnus was sitting next to his son, his forearms balanced on his knees as he fought to stay conscious. Even with Alec's strength added to his own, it had been a very close call.
The Hunters who had baited the trap kept their distance, watching the Nephilim from the shadows deeper back in the trees. Simon shivered when flashes of light reflected back off the coloured eyes of some of the Faeries like wolves in the darkness. He could feel the otherness of the warriors, and he wasn't the least bit ashamed to admit that it scared the crap out of him. He really wished Rayce would come back. It felt slightly safer with him here.
As if thinking about him had summoned him, a black horse came skimming over the treetops with two riders on its back, and there was an almost-silent sigh of relief around the circle of gathered Shadowhunters as it touched down on the pavement and Jace swung down out of the saddle. He ran to Alec first, embracing his brother fiercely, and then Izzy was there and he reached out to pull her in as well, because that's what you did when you lived through something like this. You had to feel them living and breathing to believe it was really true.
When they broke apart, Jace wasn't wearing his trademark smile, and Simon saw that Rayce was similiarly sobered.
"You said you're supposed to look happy about killing a dragon," Simon ventured. "You guys don't look happy. Did you kill it?"
Jace shared a long look with the Lord of the Hunt and nodded slowly. "Yeah, we killed it. But we didn't save the firefighters."
Izzy's hand flew up to cover her mouth. "Oh, Jace! It's not your fault!" She moved to put her arms back around him comfortingly, but he shrugged her off just as Rayce's low voice cut in.
"It was mine," he confessed.
Some of the Hunters in the trees were listening carefully, and Simon was pretty sure he caught some feral smiles out there.Seeming to sense the shift in energy behind him, Rayce turned and lifted his arm, pointing back the way he had come and dismissing them to their work without a word.
"You can't just take them!" Diego burst out angrily, brandishing his seraph blade threateningly. "They have families! Children and spouses who need to grieve properly!" He stepped forward with deadly grace. "I won't allow it."
Rayce squeezed his eyes shut as blinding pain ignited in his mind at the threat to the Forest's harvest. With a low moan, he dropped to his hands and knees on the pavement, and the Shadowhunters looked around at each other in confusion.
"You don't understand," Rayce said through clenched teeth. "I don't have a choice."
"Like Hell you don't," another one of the Centurions said, drawing her own weapon and circling closer. "Call off your vultures and let the dead rest in peace."
Rayce's head spun and the scene seemed to stretch and blur as the pain ripped through him. His shoulders shook, and he wasn't sure if he was crying or laughing at this point, but he felt dangerously close to the edge. He looked up, searching the Nephilim for a familiar scarlet jacket that he was certain would be there, but a quiet voice diffused the growing tension.
"Leave him alone." Mark Blackthorn stepped out of the trees on the opposite side of the highway from where the other Hunters had waited and watched. His mismatched blue and gold eyes caught the light of the fires burning in the scrub along the ditches, and it was hard to miss the unmistakeable stamp of the Hunt.
"Most of you do not know me," he said, raising his voice. "And your Clave did not want you to because I bear the taint of the Hunt. I have lived apart from the Shadow World for twenty years, cursed to hear the call of the Hunt, but no longer bound to obey it." His melodious tone captured the battered Nephilim around him and held them motionless as Rayce panted quietly in the centre of the ring of Shadowhunters.
"I have ridden the winds of the world to gather the dead and bear them to deep Faerie. I have lived that life, and I swear to you by the Angel that what he says is true. The Hunt is bound in service to a power far greater than any one man, and no one here can keep that wheel from turning. You must not hold him accountable for the duty that is forced upon him by the cloak; he is a slave, as I was once a slave."
The words stung Rayce deeply, but he felt oddly grateful. He recognized his defender from Gwyn's memories, and he knew enough pieces of Mark Blackthorn's sad story to understand what answering the horn's call must have cost him tonight. Regret flooded through him for unknowingly drawing the Unbound in, but it was a choice the other man must have made when the call had led him so close to home.
"Leave him," Mark repeated softly as he reached Diego, his earlier hatred drained from his eyes to be replaced with sorrow as he witnessed Rayce's suffering.
The Executor held his ground for another moment before standing down and waving his Centurions back to the south and the trucks that waited there. "This time, Blackthorn," he muttered under his breath.
Mark watched them go, and then knelt silently at Rayce's side as he caught his breath. The Hunters had likely reached the fallen heroes, and the Forest was mollified to know that it would not be denied again.
Not knowing what else to do, the other Nephilim hung back and gave the two half-Faeries some space. Even Jace held back, staying close to Alec, Magnus, and the kids. Izzy reached out silently and took her husband's hand.
"You are not as alone as you might think, brother," Mark said quietly to Rayce.
"Uncle," Simon corrected under his breath, but the the two Hunters couldn't hear him. Izzy ground her heel into his toes and his mouth fell open in a silent scream.
Mark reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a very worn witchlight. Jace's lips parted in shock. There's no way.
"Take this with you," Mark echoed his friend's words from all those ago when his own journey with the Hunt had just been starting, "for it can be dark in the land under the hill, and the years very long." His voice dropped to a whisper as he pressed the stone into Rayce's hand.
"Remember that you are not forgotten."