Dark Magic
Alec showered, packed his bags and was out the door before the ashes into which Catarina's fire message disintegrated had even been blown away by the breeze. His heart was pounding, adrenaline fuelling the ever-increasing anxiety that had taken hold of him, but his mind was surprisingly sharp and focused on a single thought: Magnus needs me. He was still buttoning up his shirt when he stepped out of his room and his hair, wet from the shower, fell in haphazard strands down his forehead, dripping water down his face and shoulders. He didn't care. He had never cared much about his appearance and now it was not the time to start.
"Where are you going?" asked Guinevere when she run into him once again in the hallway. She thought it had not been more than five minutes since she had handed him the sealed message, and now here was Alec, still wet from the shower and taking off in an obvious rush.
"There is an emergency and I need to go back to New York," he replied hastily as, with decisive steps, he started down the hallway towards the exit that led to the Guard where the only portal in Idris was located.
"Can't Jace or Isabel handle it? You still have a few weeks left of training," the Inquisitor's young assistant asked.
"No, this is a personal emergency," he replied turning back to look at her but without stopping. "I am the only one who can handle it."
"Can't it wait?"
"No, I am sorry, it can't," Alec stated. Magnus is in trouble and needs me, he thought. Catarina's neatly written words echoed in his mind as if they were marbles rattling around his skull, obscuring all other thoughts but those that beckoned him to Magnus. Magnus is in trouble, he repeated again in his mind as he walked out of the academy's living quarters, quickened his steps and headed up the hill towards the Guard.
Through one of the panoramic windows that surrounded the living quarters, Guinevere watched as Alec walked off almost at a run. She thought, not for the first time, that the new Head of the New York Institute was one of the handsomest and nicest men she had ever met: taller than most Nephilim she knew; lean and with a body to die for; a kind face and a dazzling smile on those occasions he did smile, which were rare; and a unpretentious attitude, as if he didn't know that he was in possession of those kinds of looks that made women, and men, turn their heads. She knew what they said about him, that he was not into girls and that he was in a committed relationship with a powerful warlock no less. But that had not stopped her from developing a terrible crush on him, and now he was leaving, and Guinevere doubted she would see him again anytime soon. Too bad, she thought as she saw him disappear into the Guard, the good ones are always either taken or unavailable.
A few minutes later, and after having threatened the Shadowhunter guarding the Idris portal with the seven fires of hell if he didn't let him pass, Alec was emerging out of a portal to the astonished face of the young recruit guarding the roof of the New York Institute. He stopped just long enough to greet the young man and ask him to please take his bag to his room, before he was off at a run again, down the stairs, pass the situation room, out the institute's front door, and down the street towards the subway and Magnus' penthouse. Jace, who at that moment was handing out patrol assignments to the Shadowhunters on duty, saw Alec walk by but his parabatai was gone even before he even had time to greet him.
Catarina wrung her hands in an attitude of evident distress as she paced back and forth in the foyer of Magnus' penthouse. Her face betrayed, not only her state of apprehension, but also the long days and sleepless nights she had spent watching over Magnus and trying to find a cure to his condition. Magnus, stupid troublesome warlock, why didn't you call me? She silently asked for what was likely the thousandth time, as she turned and gazed towards the place where, surrounded by an eerie, cold and expanding gloom, Magnus sat silent and immobile. She was about to look at her wristwatch, as she had done every couple of minutes since she sent the fire message to Alec, when the doorbell rang startling her despite the fact that she had been waiting for it.
"Catarina, what happened?" Alec asked as soon as she opened the door, his apprehensive expression mirroring her own.
"Come in Alec," she replied and stepped aside to let the young man in. Calling on all her years of training as a nurse and on all the experience she had gained from the thousands of times she had had to give bad news to her patients' relatives, Catarina trained her voice and expression to remain even and calm. She knew there was no way of explaining what was happening to Magnus without showing Alec, and that there was no way to prepare the young Shadowhunter for the blow he was about to receive. The only thing she could do was to show Alec that she was there to support him and Magnus.
A shiver run down Alec's spine as soon as he stepped into the apartment, the result, not only, of the chill and darkness that had begun to overtake the normally warm and bright rooms, but also of the sinister and dark energy that seemed to permeate the very air around them. For a moment, he felt like he was walking into a demon nest and had to fight the instinct to reach for his bow and quiver. Magnus' apartment looked the same; its bright-colored furniture was in the same place he remembered; its expensive artwork and antiques still hanged from walls or laid on tables; and its windows still framed a stunning view of the New York skyline. Yet, Alec had a hard time recognizing the place in which he had spent so many wonderful days and nights with Magnus. For it seemed that a veil of dark and evil energy blanketed everything, making all colors appear dull, and keeping away the light and the heat of the spring sun. It was as if a hostile force was pushing him away, the sensation raising the hairs on the back if his neck and on his arms.
"I know exactly how you feel," Catarina said observing Alec's reaction. "I feel it too. I can barely stand being in the place. But it is safe, I promise."
"What is going on? Where is Magnus?" Alec asked, his anxiety rapidly reaching the level of panic. He took a few steps towards the living room and had to exercise all his self-control to resist the impulse to turn and run. The curtains were drawn back, and he could see through the windows that the sun shone outside. Yet, the room was plunged in shadows and resembled a cold and wet dungeon. Everything in the apartment seemed to be screaming at him to get out, as if the walls, the furniture and even the air had become alien and dangerous.
Alec's eyes swept the familiar, yet unfamiliar, room searching for the man he loved and for whom he had longed for more than six weeks. He recognized his silhouette by the window in a spot from which all the gloom that covered the room seemed to be emanating.
"Magnus," Alec called as he rushed towards the armchair in which Magnus sat, his impassive face turned towards the window, his unseeing milky eyes lost in some unknown distance. He stopped abruptly before Magnus and looked from the warlock's face to Catarina, a thousand questions written on his astonished expression. "Magnus, Magnus, I am here," Alec said softly but urgently as he crouched in front of the warlock and took his hand in his. Magnus' golden skin, so familiar to Alec, felt now cold and foreign, as if Magnus had turned into a marble sculpture, a sculpture that retained color and texture, but froze them in stone. "Magnus," he called again, and he brought his lips to Magnus' hand, planting kisses, beckoning Magnus to reply, his heart shattering a little more with every unresponsive second.
"I don't think he can hear you," Catarina softly said as she approached and placed a comforting hand on Alec's shoulder. "He is beyond the reach of your voice."
"What happened? Who did this?!" Alec asked, standing up and facing Catarina in an attitude of defiance or perhaps desperation, his voice gaining in intensity and urgency. At that moment he knew he was capable of killing whomever had done harm to Magnus, not matter who it was or what it took. Alec knew without the shadow of a doubt that he would go to the end of the earth and farther if necessary to find whomever had hurt Magnus.
"No one did this," Catarina replied. "Or rather, Magnus did."
Seeing that Alec was about to bombard her with more questions, she put her hand up to silence him and went on: "I found him like this a week ago. We, warlocks, don't know much about this condition, but we call it petrification. It happens to some of us when we have lived too long and cannot longer handle the loss, loneliness, sadness or predictability that comes with immortality; when we stop caring about life; when we stop hoping for new things. The process is rather a mystery. We very rarely talk about it and, in fact, everyone I have asked has given me some rather elusive answers. No one, as far as I know, has ever recovered from it, so what causes it and what happens to warlocks' consciousness during the process is something we don't know anything about. I have been consulting some of our texts and I have asked a few warlocks I know, but it seems that the topic remains either a taboo or the knowledge there is about petrification is covered in secrecy. All I have found out so far is conjecture."
"This happened a week ago, why did you wait until now to call me?" Alec asked, his eyes shining with yet unshed tears. "Why didn't you call me when you saw the first signs of trouble? I may have been able to stop it."
"I urged Magnus to call you, but he didn't listen. You know how stubborn and troublesome he can be," Catarina said, and her voice finally broke in the last couple of words. "I didn't think things would get so bad so fast. I kept an eye on him, visited almost every day. I truly thought he would bounce back, that this was just an episode of melancholy and that he would eventually snap out of it. I have been looking for a cure for the last week; I have tried everything I could think of, but nothing has worked and everyone I have asked has given elusive or unhelpful answers." Catarina's run her thump over her cheek to dry the tears that had rebelliously fallen down her face. The tears were not only of sadness but also of frustration; for in the last week, she had come to realize just how reluctant her people were to even speak of petrification. She even suspected that the topic was prohibited and even dangerous to pursue. After one of her contacts cautioned her against asking too many questions, and specially warned her not to ask the warlock leadership, she had decided to stop for fear that she might be stirring trouble for herself and Magnus. There was something about petrification that frightened her people, and her people with all their powers were pretty hard to frighten.
Alec felt guilty for reproaching her not calling him sooner. He didn't know Catarina very well and his dealings with her had always been mediated by Magnus. She was one of Magnus' closest friends and it was obvious that she was as upset as he was. And, she was correct: Magnus could be stubborn. What was worse, she was not the one to blame.
"Magnus is like this because of me," he said, the full weight of the guilt threatening to crush him. "I did this; I hurt him; I shouldn't have left, I shouldn't have let him send me away. I should have camped outside his door until he forgave me. I should have been here."
"Don't blame yourself, Alec," Catarina said and once again rested her hand on his shoulder. "We don't know enough about petrification to know exactly what provokes it. There is no use assigning blame right now."
Alec reached and brushed a lock of hair off Magnus' forehead, and with all his heart, he willed Magnus to look up at him and smile the way he had done so many times before. "What happens to warlocks who petrify?" he asked, crouching and taking Magnus' hand again, resisting the impulse to recoil when his hand came in contact with the warlock's icy cold skin. He had heard rumours about petrification before but had never thought of asking Magnus about it. There was so much he didn't know about warlocks and their powers, and he had always accepted that there were things about his boyfriend that would forever remain a mystery. Mystery was, after all, part of what made his relationship with Magnus special. Yet now he wished he knew more.
"We are immortal, Alec, but that doesn't mean we cannot die," Catarina said carefully, making sure Alec understood the full extent to the problem. "As I told you, warlocks don't talk much about petrification; it is a topic that everybody avoids like the plague. But there seems to be agreement on one thing: petrification eventually leads to death, or at the very least death of the body. Again, I don't know what happens to consciousness, but unable to move or feed, the body stops functioning, dries up, or turns into a sort of fossil, eventually dying. It may take weeks, months or years, but, as far as I know, all warlocks that petrify eventually die."
"What can we do to bring him back?" Alec asked, his voice no longer able to disguise his desperation.
"I am not certain we can," Catarina replied.
"What do you mean? There must be something, Catarina, anything. Just tell me what to do and I will do it. I cannot lose him, not like this, not like this, please." Alec's voice now carried all the force and despair of an imploration and his eyes finally relinquished the tears he had been holding back.
Catarina had had to give bad news to so many people in the hundred years she had been a nurse, so she recognized in Alec's voice the willfulness with which loved ones held on to hope, even when there was no hope left. "I have an idea," she tentatively stated, "but you must know that the possibility of success is very very remote, and I would need to do more research before I even consider it. The results will depend on whether the little I have been able to learn about petrification is correct. So, I cannot promise anything."
"Okay, what do you need? I can get you access to the Institute's library, or I can call in some favours and get you into the Idris' central archives. Whatever you need, just tell me and I will make it happen." Alec's voice suddenly carried a determination and willfulness that convinced Catarina that Alec would do the impossible to save Magnus, no matter the consequences.
"Thank you," Catarina replied and gave Alec's shoulder a gentle and grateful squeeze. "But there is only one place where I may be able to find the information I need: the archive of the Spiral Labyrinth. The archive contains some of our most obscure and secret documents. Thus, it is hard to enter and very few warlocks are allowed access. I suspect that some trickery will be required and perhaps even some breaking and entering. Luckily, I know someone who is currently doing research there, a friend of mine and Magnus'."
"Alright, let's go then," Alec said standing up once again and facing Catarina, renewed determination in his expression and posture.
Catarina couldn't help but admire the young man's bravery. She had never been too keened on Magnus' relationship with a Nephilim, on account of her hundreds of years of experience dealing with the superior attitude, prejudice and bigotry of the Children of the Angel. At the beginning, she had been suspicious of Alec's feelings for Magnus because she had a hard time believing that the young Shadowhunter could break with thousands of years of animosity between the Shadowhunters and the Downworld. But now, as she saw Alec's eagerness to go to the end of the world to save her friend, not matter the consequences, all remaining doubts on the veracity of his love and commitment to Magnus finally dissipated.
"Very few people have ever been given access to the Spiral Labyrinth's archive, Alec," she explained. "It is heavily warded with the most powerful and destructive of magics. Only warlocks can approach or enter it, and only with permission from the Highest Warlock. Trying to access it without permission is even more dangerous. Warlocks guard their secrets fiercely and bringing a Shadowhunter along would be more an obstacle than a help."
"But you don't have permission either," Alec observed. "How are you planning to enter?"
"I am counting on my friend's help," Catarina replied, "even if she doesn't know it yet. That is why I have to go alone. I need you to stay and watch over Magnus."
"But I must do something, Catarina," Alec retorted. "I cannot just sit here."
"You will be doing something," Catarina reassured him. "Magnus should not be alone; in his current state, he is defenseless. You must look after him and protect him. Besides, I won't be long."
"You think Magnus is in danger," Alec said, a statement, not a question. At that moment, Alec realized that Catarina was concerned not just about the petrification. Something else worried her, some threat coming from elsewhere.
"I cannot be sure; call it instinct," Catarina explained. "I may be overreacting, but every time I have tried to get information in the last week I have been stonewalled and my questions have been met with rather intrusive questions in return. I am beginning to think that there is a powerful reason why warlocks refuse to speak about petrification. There is only a matter of time before other warlocks begin to wonder why Magnus is not answering calls. Let's be cautious just in case and keep Magnus' condition to ourselves. The fewer people that know, the better."
"Okay, whatever you need Catarina," Alec said, his voice resigned.
"I have set some spells that will raise protective wards around the apartment as soon as I leave," Catarina informed Alec less than an hour later as she was about to step through the portal she had just opened. "The wards may interfere with phone signals, but you and Magnus should be safe. I will contact you through fire message if I need to."
"Thank you, Catarina," Alec said and held Magnus' friend in a half embrace. "I will keep Magnus safe until you return."
As soon as the last sparkles left by the closing portal died down, the apartment was plunged in even more silence and shadows, the result, Alec thought, of the protective wards that kept all noise out as well as the ever-expanding dreariness that emanated from the place where Magnus sat. Hadn't Alec trusted Magnus implicitly, he would have been even more disconcerted by his surroundings, but he knew that Magnus would never intentionally harm him. So, he made the effort to push away the anxiety that seemed to be gripping him and fought with all his will against the impulse to leave this dreadful place. Instead, he pushed one of the armchairs next to the one on which Magnus sat.
"I guess it is just the two of us for now," he softly and lovingly said, crouching before Magnus. He smoothed the front of Magnus' red silk shirt, adjusted the many silver necklaces hanging around Magnus' neck, and brushed once again the rebellious lock of hair away from Magnus' forehead. He knew that his boyfriend cared a great deal about his appearance and even if he was not aware of his surroundings, Magnus would not like it if he didn't look his best. Catarina had told Alec that Magnus had been like this for at least a week, but nothing in his appearance seemed out of place or dishevelled. It was as if the warlock was frozen in time and place and nothing, not even dust could touch him. "I guess it would be too much to ask that you wake up for me now that we are alone," Alec said as he sat beside Magnus. "Please Magnus, wake up."
Alec knew, of course, that if Magnus had been able to hear him, he would have woken up even if just to scold him for being in his apartment uninvited. At that moment, he would have welcomed the worse of Magnus' wrath, and perhaps even the cold anger he showed him the last time they argued, if that mean that Magnus was back.
For the next several hours, Alec sat in silence, surrounded by the ever-expanding gloom that colored everything around him in a relentless shade of grey. He kept Magnus's hand in his, determined to transfer body heat to him, wishing with all his heart, his mind and his soul for Magnus to feel his presence. If his phone rang or anyone came to the door, he didn't hear them. It was like Magnus' apartment had become suspended somewhere outside reality and time. Like the impenetrable wall of thorns that surrendered sleeping beauty's castle, the penthouse had become encased in the bubble created by the dark energy emanating from Magnus.
When the shadows began to block the last remnants of daylight, he turned on a lamp and when the chill in the air began to reach the very marrow of his bones, he reached for the blanket Magnus kept on the sofa and wrapped himself in it. Alec was determined not to move or let go of Magnus' hand no matter how frigid the air around him got. If he kept losing body heat, he thought, he would activate his warming rune.
Every few minutes, Alec looked at Magnus, his face beautiful despite the white film that covered his eyes, and the vacant expression on his face. He had gazed at his golden features many times before, shyly, covertly and surreptitiously at first, more openly once he and Magnus had become involved. He had always enjoyed watching Magnus when he slept or when he was unawares, concentrating on his work or reading. Sometimes when he woke up next to Magnus in the middle of the night, he had run his fingers gently along his well-defined lips or along his brow committing to memory the warlock's features, and he had always been in awe at how strikingly attractive Magnus was. His was not a superficial beauty; it was not just the striking shape or color of his eyes, or the fashionable three-day stubble that never needed shaving, and certainly it was not the makeup, the hairstyle or the glitter. In time, Alec had learned that all those things were just part of the image Magnus projected as the High Warlock of Brooklyn; they faded in the intimacy of their time together leaving just a natural and unassuming beauty behind. No, Magnus' attractiveness was the result of possessing a good and warm soul despite the feisty, sassy and at times sarcastic image he projected.
"I am sorry, Magnus," he said with a sigh when the silence began to feel like a weight pressing against his chest, and he couldn't any longer stand the burden of his own guilt. "I behaved like an immature spoiled child. I will never forgive myself. I have no excuse, but you must know that I regretted that kiss the instant it happened. I was jealous and stupid. I couldn't stop thinking about all the men and women you have been with, all the people you have loved. I felt small and insignificant beside all those wonderful people that came before me. Magnus, my life is so insignificant, and you are so glamorous and worldly; you sparkle and shine. When you looked at me that first night we met, I felt that, for the first time, someone was really seeing me. And then, stupid me, I became insecure, I started to think about those memories of the men and women with whom you have shared your life, and I felt that I could never measure up to them."
"Please Magnus, I beg you, come back to me," Alec pleaded. "I will never forgive myself if you don't come back. Please Magnus, even if it is to scream at me and tell me that you never want to see me again. I will leave and never come back if you tell me to, but please, please wake up." Alec lifted Magnus' cold hand to his lips and, turning it, brought his nose to the inside of his wrist, searching for the familiar scent and warmth of Magnus, closing his eyes and beckoning the warlock to heed his call, wishing with all his heart to reach him in whatever place Magnus was now lost.
Many hours later, in the small hours of the morning, something called Alec's attention back to the here and now: an insistent tapping like an icepick against solid ice. He looked around the room searching for the source of the sound. He found it in a corner of the ceiling: a bird made of blood red paper, resembling origami, its beak tapping insistently against the invisible barrier of the wards Catarina had erected. Alec lifted his hand in the air signaling for the fire message to proceed to its destination. As if a small section of the invisible barrier had melted, the paper bird penetrated the protections and flew into Alec's hand, unfolding itself as it landed.
Rather than words on the page, as the paper bird unfolded, a booming voice echoed throughout the apartment, a voice that carried the force of a thousand voices reverberating in the silence.
"To all warlocks in New York, by order of Celestina Rays, the Highest of all Warlocks, and under penalty of expulsion, you are ordered to surrender Magnus Bane and Catarina Loss to the custody of the Spiral Labyrinth to stand trial for crimes against the most sacred laws of magic. Anyone harboring these fugitives will be subject to the full force of the law."
As the last echoes of the words died down, the paper in Alec's hand caught fire, red flames consuming it, its ashes blown by an invisible wind. Almost at the same time, the whole apartment began to shake as if an earthquake or a hurricane was trying to rip the whole building from its foundations. The lamps and artwork on the tables rattled and some fell, shattering in hundreds of pieces. Magnus' favourite painting fell from its place on the wall, its antique wooden frame splintering.
Alec immediately sprung to action. He stood up and in a swift and sinuous motion, reached for his bow, nocking an arrow in less than the blink of an eye. He positioned himself in a defensive posture in front of Magnus, ready to do battle with whatever was about to attack them, determined to defend Magnus with his very life. He turned in a semicircle searching for the place from where the attack might come, stopping when he faced the doorway and saw a bright silver light that began to expand in a whirlpool of energy. He thought it was a portal, but of a kind he had never seen before. It had the consistency of quick silver, the light it projected was almost blinding, and the energy emanating from it seemed determined to demolish the whole building. Suddenly, as if by a great force, two figures were thrown through the portal, crashing against the opposite wall just a split second before the portal dissipated in a last and deafening sound that forced the building back on it foundations.
Alec pointed his arrow in the direction of the one of the two figures that began to stand up. The other was obviously unconscious and resembled a rag doll thrown on the carpet.
"Wow, wow, Alec, do not shoot" said a soft female voice with an English accent. "I am Tessa Gray, a friend of Magnus; I am here to help."