Chapter 34

The fighting in underground Edinburgh raged on for three days with neither side able to gain their ultimate objective. Vladimir Druganin and the Hellfire Club had been stalled by Aidan's downworlders and were no closer to obtaining the child than the day they'd breached Briosag's wards. The ancient vampire was furious about this lack of progress, but had to admit, the High Warlock of Edinburgh was a wily opponent; still, he would succeed in the end, it was only a matter of time. A steady stream of fresh recruits from the Hellfire Club meant that he could keep Briosag and his ragtag band contained. The warlocks Druganin brought kept a tight control on all the exits and provided dampening spells to prevent the creation of portals within the underground. Even fire messages would incinerate before reaching their intended destination.

Early that morning, Druganin had sent a message to the besieged defenders, offering to end the hostilities, allow Briosag to save whatever was left of his people, if he handed over the child. The cocky Scottish warlock had stripped Druganin's envoy to his underware, and sent him back with a rather rude note pinned to his chest.

"It appears Aidan Briosag does not know what is in his own best interests;" Druganin said to his long-time friend and ally, Dante Serpens.

"I understand, we have the advantage," Serpens replied sighing heavily. The effort of keeping the underground cut off, from the outside world telling on the warlock's tense and tired face. "The longer this drags on, the more chance there is that the Edinburgh Institute will get wind of this;"

"You worry too much Dante!" Druganin said placing his large, cold hand on the warlock's shoulder. "I don't even think Briosag is delusional enough to expect the Edinburgh shadowhunters to come to his rescue. The Institute is in disarray, another head disgraced, and no new replacement named. Still, you do make a valid point, I want this matter settled as soon as possible. Do you have enough warlocks here to allow you to recues yourself from enforcing the dampening spells?"

"Y-yes, a couple more arrived this morning. What do you have in mind?"

A cruel smirk spread across Druganin's face; "I think we should be prepared to summon demonic assistance if Briosag should prove to be unreasonable, don't you?" And a cold, soulless laugh filled the stone chamber Druganin used as his base of operations...

~~~~!~~~~

Deeper in the depths of the Edinburgh Underground, another conversation was occurring as an increasingly desperate Aidan Briosag assessed his situation. He and his downworlders had successfully stalled off the Hellfire Club, for now, but time was running out, and without assistance from the outside world, it was inevitable that the Hellfire Club would prevail.

Aidan thought, sarcastically about the message from Druganin advising his downworlders that a half-shadowhunter baby was not worth their lives. When had the Clave done anything but persecute them, and hunt them? It was a line of persuasion geared to appeal specifically to his people, who had in fact suffered much at the hands of the rogue element in the Edinburgh Institute. Until Alec Lightwood had come, like an avenging angel, to shed a light on the injustice, and bring it to an end. Aidan's people might still regard the Clave with a certain, justifiable distrust, but not Alec Lightwood.

The High Warlock of Edinburgh knew he could trust his people, vampire, warlock, werewolf and fairy. They co-existed peacefully in this unique place, embracing the diversity that separated the downworld in other cities. It had been necessary at first just to survive, but gradually strong bonds of friendship had enriched their lives, and it was Aidan's job to ensure that this vibrant community survived and thrived.

He could not, would not, however, buy their safety with the life of an innocent child, he had to find another way. If he let one, warlock, vampire, werewolf, fairy... or half warlock/shadowhunter child die on his watch, then all the lessons of the past had been for nothing, and he did not deserve the trust his people placed in him. Aidan thought about Hamish, his friend, his brother-in-arms, who had struggled to accept Alec when the shadowhunter had come to Edinburgh, years ago, investigating the death of a downworlder. Suspicious, at first, Hamish had treated Alec as an enemy, but then moved past it to see he couldn't paint all shadowhunters with the same brush... if he didn't want to propagate the evil he'd been subjected to.

All morning, the High Warlock had been wracking his brains, trying to find a way to get a message past the dampening spells that were effectively isolating the Edinburgh underground. He did not have the number of warlocks necessary to fight off the Hellfire Club's advances, and break through their blockade. Equally, any downworlder who tried to get through the heavily defended exits, would be cut down before they got more than two feet beyond the shelter of the stone steps.

And then it hit him, a small glimmer of hope, a desperate chance to get a message out... if she were willing.

~~~~!~~~~

Magnus paced the length of his tiny cell, torn between feelings of hope and despair. Over the last few days, the Prosecution had rested its case, confident, despite Richelieu's carte blanche that the defendant had broken enough Clave laws to warrant the death penalty. Three Justices were enough to convict him. Truthfully, Magnus didn't dare let himself hope too much, not when he remembered the ingrained prejudices the Nephilim held toward those different from themselves. Even the mundanes shadowhunters were sworn to protect, were often held in contempt for their weakness, as if the Clave had forgotten that they too had been human once, and shared the same mortality even now.

Magnus' Defense Attorney, Asher had called Catarina and Jace back to the stand to present a more balanced picture of the events, hopefully proving mitigating circumstances that might provide him some leeway with the Court. Heaving a heavy sigh, Magnus dropped down on the narrow cot that had been his only bed for some time now. He missed his large, colourful and insanely comfortable bed at home in New York. But, most of all, he missed his beloved Alec, whose letters were the only bright spot in this dismal place.

Alec wrote to him daily, long letters full of love and hope for the future. Magnus believed Alec's words were all that kept him going. He had lived a long time, seen many changes good and bad, had at one point felt himself begin to atrophy, as old warlock's were prone to do, until Alec walked into his life, with his bone-deep innocence, and recalled Magnus to life and love. And then there had been little Aiden! No matter how many laws were broken in his creation, Magnus could never, would never regret the birth of their beautiful baby boy.

The sound of the cell door opening interrupted Magnus' reverie, and he looked up to see Jessie Bradshaw, flanked by two other guards standing in the hallway just outside the cell.

"Time for Court, High Warlock Bane;" Jessie said giving Magnus his formal title. The scowls on the faces of the other two guards indicated their distaste for the idea of according any respect to an accused downworlder.

"Jessie, how is your daughter? Magnus asked knowing from previous conversations with his guard that Jessie's daughter was due to deliver the family's first grandchild any day.

"Oh, Magnus! Jessie replied, ignoring the critical presence of the two subordinate guards, who were required by the Courts of Assize to transport dangerous defendants to and from the cells. "My daughter has delivered a healthy, eight pound baby boy. Mother and child are doing well, but I wanted to ask... we'd like to name the child Alexander Magnus... if you have no objections."

Magnus stopped dead in his tracks; "My husband and I would be honoured, Jessie;" he said, touched beyond measure by this man who had begun to represent what could be achieved when prejudice was set aside. The dark looks on the faces of the other guards at this exchange, told the warlock that distrust and prejudice were still alive and well in Idris.

Without further ado, the Guards took their positions around the prisoner and escorted him to the courtroom...