Foe & Friend
Magnus sat on the sofa in Alec's office, copies of the Vatican records spread over the coffee table, the tablet in his hand opened to a digital photo of the ancient carved stone. He had spent the last hour staring at the pictures, zooming in on different sections of the stone, trying to decipher hieroglyphs that the passage of time had almost completely erased. On a small corner of the stone, as if it was an afterthought, someone had carved a hieroglyph that had caught Magnus' attention. It was rather simple: a line linking five points intersected by another line to form a rudimentary cross. The shape reminded him of something, but no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn't identify what.
As if trying to clear his mind, he looked up at the intricate mosaic window with the image of the angel, his tunic and wings casting white and blue light over the room, the sword in his hand a silvery shine. For an instant, Magnus thought that the angel was looking back at him with accusing black eyes as if demanding an explanation for the lives that were lost today.
"No one else dies in this war," Alec had said as he stood beside the stretchers on which four bodies had been wheeled into the New York Institute less than two hours ago. "We are not relinquishing one more life, Nephilim, downworlder or mundane, to Annaliese and her people," he had added, his firm voice and the determination on his face disguising his despair from everyone except for Magnus and possibly Jace.
Unconsciously, perhaps the result of having spent days in the company of close friends in which hiding had not been necessary, Magnus had placed a hand on Alec's shoulder in a gesture of support, comfort and love. He had swiftly removed it, however, when he felt Alec's back stiffen beside him and Alec took an unconscious step away from Magnus. He had also felt the weight of the other Shadowhuntes' stares, maybe not all reproachful, but certainly all surprised.
Welcome back to the Institute, Magnus had thought, the place in which Alec was not only the leader, but also in which he had lived, and in many ways still lived, a closeted life. The Nephilim were bigots, Magnus reminded himself; a society in many ways more set on tradition than mundane society; a society that still adhered to a 'don't ask, don't tell' rule. Anyway, they had more pressing things to worry about right now, Magnus reminded himself as he went back to examine the hieroglyph that looked so familiar.
Four Nephilim had been killed; their runes burned away and almost every bone broken by magic; their bodies dumped at the Institute's doorsteps. Remembering the look of agony in Alec's face as Magnus had burned away his rune, Magnus involuntarily shivered and silently hoped that those poor souls had died before the procedure was done on them.
As soon as they got the news, Alec, Magnus, Jace and Kat had portalled right into the Institute's front steps where Jeremy and Clary waited. The scene had been eerie despite the sunlight that illuminated the early morning: four bodies lying on the ground near the Institute's entrance; four bodies strewn around as if they were rag dolls, disposed of as if they were refuse, as if Annaliese wanted to send the clear message that the Nephilim meant nothing to her. Four bodies, all from different institutes, none of them from New York; yet all dumped here. It was a message, Magnus was certain; it was a message from Annaliese, a calling, a summoning, or a warning. This was her way of letting him know that his town was not safe, that his people were not safe, that she was coming for him.
"Do you remember when I told you that the solution to Annaliese's riddle might be found both in the past and in the future?" Alec asked from the doorway, startling Magnus back to reality. He had been so engrossed in his thoughts and his examination of the photos that had not noticed that Alec had walked into the office and was now standing behind him.
"Did I scare you?" Alec asked, a hint of humor in his voice. He came around and sat beside Magnus, and it was now him the one to place a hand on Magnus' shoulder. "I am sorry."
"As usual, Alexander, you walk with the grace and stealth of a Shadowhunter," Magnus said with a smile. He looked around to see whether anyone else was with Alec, even though the intimacy of the touch was a clear sign that they were alone in the room.
"I am glad I haven't yet lost the capacity to surprise you," said Alec and even though he also smiled, the smile was sad and more than a little anxious.
"You were saying?" Magnus asked.
Alec switched on the tablet he carried in his hand and called up a satellite image of Europe, a red dot marking the sites of each attack. He then placed the tablet beside the image of the carved stone Magnus had been studying.
"We know that the Rome attack was a distraction to break into the Vatican archives," Alec said. "There have been seven other attacks in Europe beside Rome. I think you were onto something at the observatory, there is almost a straight line connecting Lisbon, Madrid, Barcelona, Zürich and Berlin," he added and with his finger, he drew a red line connecting those cities. "If we now draw another line connecting Paris and Florence…" his voice trailed off as he traced the new line. "What does that configuration look like to you?"
"That is what this carving reminded of!" exclaimed Magnus, excitement coloring his voice. "The carving is a diagram linking seven spots on a map. But why would a map of modern Europe be carved into a pre-Colombian Inca ceremonial stone?"
"That I don't know," replied Alec, "but it cannot be a coincidence."
Magnus intently examined the map on the screen, the lines clearly connecting the cities in a configuration that was almost identical to the carving on the stone; almost but not quite, something was off. "It is not a map of Europe, and I don't think that the last point is Florence," he said after a moment of silent.
"What do you mean?" asked Alec glancing once again at the map.
"There is a reason why Annalise went back to Zürich," Magnus replied. "Zürich is the point at which both lines intersect but not to connect Paris to Florence; rather to connect Paris to the next and possibly last target." With his own finger, Magnus extended an almost straight line from Paris, passing over Zürich and continuing south east in the direction of the sea.
"You are right," Alec added looking back at Magnus.
"Alec," called Jeremy from the door. "Kat and I have something to show you in the situation room. I think we know what Annaliese's next target is."
Alec and Magnus looked at each other and nodded, silently agreeing to wait and see whether Kat would confirm their suspicions. They stood and followed Jeremy into the situation room, where Kat, Jace and Clary were carefully examining the latest star chart on a screen. Ancient books and archival records were spread over the surface of the nearby table. The sight reminded Magnus of Alec's words, that the key to understanding Annaliese's plan was to keep one eye firmly in the past and another firmly in the future.
"I think I know what Annaliese's next target is," Kat said as soon as Magnus and Alec walked in.
"Let me guess," said Magnus. "It is Venice, is it?"
"How do you know?" Kat asked in surprise.
"I think we have come to the same conclusion," Alec stated. "The ceremonial stone that Annaliese stole in Rome contains a carving of what we thought was a map, but now I suspect it is a star chart."
"That is very interesting," Jeremy said. "The next star in the constellation we have been tracking will align with Venice tomorrow night," he added, eager now to get on with the report of what he and Kat had found. "Every seventy-two years, give or take a few months, the stars align in that configuration on the night sky. In the last two hundred years, the constellation has aligned over Europe."
"That is why Annaliese was in Germany during the war," stated Magnus.
"We suspect that until recently, Annaliese didn't have all the information," Jeremy went on. "She might have been guiding herself by only one star, the brightest and easiest to spot. That is why there was only one target before. This time she knows that there are six other stars in the constellation."
"How did she know?" asked Clary.
"This time, not only does she have access to modern technology to track the stars," Kat replied, "she might have also seen this stone. Do you remember, Magnus, the legend of the Chasa?" she added turning to her friend.
"Yes, but what does that have to do with this?" replied Magnus, looking at Kat with apprehension.
"I suspect it has everything to do with it."
"What is a Chasa?" Jace asked.
"Not what, but who," replied Magnus. "The Chasa were an ancient race of people that Kat believes lived in Cusco perhaps a thousand years before the Inca."
"When the Inca first arrived at Cusco, centuries before I was born," added Kat, "they found ancient ruins and artifacts, signs that another race of people, a race that had mysteriously disappeared centuries before, had lived there. In fact, in the same way that the Spanish built their churches on the ruins of Incan temples, the Inca built on the ruins left by the Chasa. I spent a few years researching those first inhabitants," she added, "because I suspected that the Chasa were warlocks. Of course, I wasn't able to prove much because almost no records of them remain."
"Let's start at the beginning," Magnus interrupted noticing the look of confusion in the Shadowhunters around the table. "Many creations myths, including the Incan myth, follow a similar narrative. After god creates the world, he gives life to a race of people –his children –and he entrusts them with caring for creation. One or some of those people eventually betray god and god punishes them. In the Incan myth, after Viracocha created the world, and before he fashioned from clay and wood the first humans, he created three other deities, whom he considered his children: Inti, the sun god; Coniraya, the moon god; and another god, a goddess actually, whose name has been erased from all records and who Viracocha put in charge of caring for the fruits and plants of the earth. This goddess proved to be rebellious, disobedient and proud. She wanted the newly created humans to worship only her and to forget Viracocha. She was so successful in convincing the human race that she was their only god, that when Viracocha called on his people to meet him by the shores of the Titicaca Lake, no one came. Viracocha was so upset that he punished the goddess, making the human race forget her name, and condemning her to live in the dark depths of the mountains without people to honor or worship her. Viracocha then sent a rain of fire that burned the earth to remind humans that he was their creator. After that, Viracocha created Pachamama, the new goddess entrusted with caring for nature."
"You think that this unnamed goddess is Lilith," Alec said, not a question but a statement.
"Yes," confirmed Magnus, "but that is not the end of the story. Another more obscured legend says that, imprisoned by Viracocha in the depth of the mountain, the unnamed goddess grew resented and angry. She lured some humans to venture into the mountain where she captured them. She took them apart trying to figure out the secret of how Viracocha created life. With the pieces, she created a race of people to worship her. Those people were the Chasa, a race of immortals with extraordinary powers who lived in Cusco for hundreds of years."
"And you think that the Chasa were warlocks," Alec stated.
"Yes," said Kat. "It was something you said, Alec, when we were at the observatory in Atacama: that perhaps Annaliese wasn't the first one to attempt to summon Lilith. As I told you before, I met Annaliese when she arrived with the first Spaniards that came to Cusco. Even then, she was obsessed with ancient Inca astronomy. She might have found some proof then that the Chasa tried to summon Lilith before. They were, obviously, unsuccessful, and it is likely that most of them died in the process. But they might have left clues behind, perhaps this ceremonial stone and at least one more thing." She then explained that last night, Monsignor Augustas, her contact at the Vatican, had sent her one more record from the archives: a drawing of a carved staff made of wood, human bone and gold that had been brought to the Vatican at the same time than the stone. She then called up a digital image of a rudimentary sketch of what looked like a walking stick, unrecognizable carvings decorating its length. The drawing was obviously very old and was sorely lacking in detail.
"The Spanish must have taken these artifacts along with the many other treasures they ransacked from Cusco during their conquest campaign," Kat continued. "But I don't think they knew their significance."
"Did you ever see the stone or the staff back then?" Clary asked.
"No," Kat replied, her voice heavy with a mixture of sadness and wistfulness. "By the time I was born, the Chasa had become old legend, and the Inca must have considered these artifacts either very sacred, or very evil, and kept them hidden from all but the highest priests. But I think they are proof that the Chasa had some knowledge of the summoning ceremony. I wish I had known about them though; we might have been better prepared," she went on, her eyes fixed on the image of the staff on the computer screens. "By the time I learned the legend of the Chasa, the Inca empire was almost gone."
"Was the staff also kept in the Vatican archives?" Alec asked.
"Monsignor Augustas told me that at the beginning, everything ended up in Rome in the hands of the church," replied Kat. "But the staff was eventually given to the Medici family in Florence."
"That cannot be a coincidence," Clary said. "So, Florence was another decoy to steal something."
"Okay, we know that Venice is likely the last target," said Alec. "We also know that Annaliese is likely following on the footsteps of an ancient group of pre-Incan warlocks who tried to summon Lilith hundreds of years before the Spanish arrived in Peru. But why kill Shadowhunters? How does that fit in her plans? And what role do the stars play in the plot?"
"I think I may have an answer to the last question," replied Kat sliding her finger over one of the tabletop touchscreens, splitting it in two, the satellite image of Europe on one side and a series of graphs and tables on the other. "Alec, at the observatory you asked me to search for any links between the targeted cities. Well, as it turns out, there are quite a few, but one is the most significant. These cities are situated along a geological fault line, one of a few that exist all over the planet. It is a weak spot of sorts; a spot prompt to earthquakes, likely a place where the separation between this realm and Hades is the weakest. Another similar fault line runs through Cusco. I think the stars exercise a magnetic pull that make the fault line a suitable place to open a rift."
Alec turned towards Magnus who had gone very quiet in the last few minutes. On his tablet, he was examining the digital photo of the drawing; turning the image one way then another; a look of complete concentration. Alec recognized that look, it was the one Magnus had every time he was working on a new spell, or on a difficult translation. When he had that expression, Alec felt that Magnus was only partially in the room, his body here but his mind somewhere or some-when else.
"What is it Magnus?" he asked.
Magnus looked up and for a second it appeared that he had forgotten where he was. He then smiled at Alec before turning to Kat. "Could it be possible, Kat, that the carvings on this staff are not Incan but a form of ancient warlock?"
"Hmmm," said Kat, her expression pensive. "It could be. The rendering is not detailed enough to know for sure. We would need to see the actual staff or at the very least a good photograph."
"You know, now that I think about it," Alec said, "in Florence, the warlocks got deeper past the Institute's protection wards than in any of the other attacks. They made it almost to the door. What if some of them actually penetrated the defenses? What if the staff was not in mundane hands, but in Nephilim's hands? If the Nephilim had the staff all along, they are likely to have a better photograph or record of it. And if so, someone would have noticed if the language on it was warlock. Don't you think?"
"Yes, but keeping an ancient warlock artifact would be against the Accords," Jeremy said, misgiving evident in his voice. "That would not look good, especially now that the Downworld has seats in the council. The Clave is unlikely to acknowledge that they had such a valuable artifact in their possession, especially if they no longer have it."
"And acknowledging that it was stolen would mean also acknowledging that security in one of the Institutes failed," Jace added.
"If they had it, I will get them to tell me," said Alec and started in the direction of his office. "It is time I call our parents, Jace, and take my word for it, they will get me the information."
Less than an hour later, Magnus was sitting at one of the computers, working on a translation of the carved stone, an old book in his hand, a close up of the stone on the screen, when Alec walked back into the situation room. In his absence, the team, with Izzy joining through teleconference, had devised a preliminary plan of attack for their imminent trip to Venice. Jace and Clary had then left to do inventory of the weapons they would likely need. Jeremy and Kat were in the library searching the archives for any indication that the Clave ever had the Chasa staff, as they had begun to call it.
Magnus looked up from the screen as Alec approached, and the Shadowhunter's appearance startled him. Alec looked almost despondent, his eyes red and his back stooped as if he was carrying a heavy burden, and Magnus suspected that Alec's conversation with his parents had taken a toll.
"The Clave did have the staff," Alec stated as he walked towards Magnus, his voice a little hoarse. "They took it from the Medici in the 1700s and had it until Annaliese stole it. They had it all along," he repeated with a sigh, his voice almost a whisper. He shook his head in an expression that was perhaps incredulity or perhaps disappointment.
Magnus knew that Alec was a loyal Shadowhunter and that he had a hard time accepting it every time his people disappointed him. He was young and didn't have the experiences or knowledge that Magnus had about all the times the Nephilim had acted reprehensively. He didn't even know the whole story of his own family and Magnus hoped Alec would never learn it completely.
Alec looked at Magnus and wondered whether he should tell him that he had just leveraged the story of what the Inquisitor had done to him to get his parents' help. The look of horror on his mother's face and of fury on his father's were still vivid in his mind.
"The Nephilim did this to me," he had bitterly told them after he had finished narrating his ordeal, "because they don't accept who I am and who I love. It wasn't just the Inquisitor; he was empowered by all those who are afraid of anyone that doesn't conform with their idea of morality or angelic superiority. If you don't help me get to the truth so I can stop Annaliese, you too will be complicit in what that man did."
"I am so sorry son," his father had said when he had gotten over the initial shock, tears welling up in his eyes. "We have failed to protect you and support as you deserve."
"You can make up for that now," Alec had told him as he dried his own tears with the back of his hand. Shadowhunters show no weakness, his father had repeatedly told him, and crying in front of his parents was a sign of weakness that since childhood he had avoided at all cost. "Find out what was stolen from the Florence Institute and whether The Clave kept an ancient warlock artifact there," he had added, imbuing his voice with as much determination as he could manage.
His mother had been, as usual, resistant to believe that the Clave would conceal having the staff. She was either loyal or afraid. Alec understood that Maryse was the one who had the hardest time coloring outside the lines demarcated for her by the Clave. His father, on the other hand, didn't appear to be surprised at all.
Alec knew that he had been hard on his parents. They were, after all, of a different generation. Perhaps they still wished that he would change and become the Shadowhunter they had hoped him to be. Even after all these months, they still struggled to accept his relationship with Magnus.
"I am sorry, son," Robert Lightwood had repeated once Maryse left the room in search of the information Alec required. "What can I do? Do you want me to publicly denounce what Dearborn did?"
"That won't be necessary," Alec had replied. "Besides, we have more important things to do right now. We have to stop Annaliese Fen and her people before they wreak havoc with the world. There will be time for other things later."
"Alec, please know that your mother and I love you and we want you to be happy. We should have been more supportive," his father had said, and Alec had seen the sincerity and regret in his father's eyes.
"It is okay dad," he had finally said. "I know all this has caught you by surprise. I just hope you understand that Magnus is not an affair or a temporary infatuation. If you can finally accept that, things will be so much easier between us."
His mother had returned a minute later with a copy of the report from the Florence attack and just the embarrassed look on her face had been enough to confirm that his suspicions had been correct.
"Are you okay Alexander?" Magnus asked him now, all thoughts of the Chasa staff forgotten for a moment.
"I am fine Magnus," Alec replied with a sad smile. There was no use talking about the disappointment he felt towards The Clave right now, or about what he had told his parents. Instead, he tapped a few commands on the touchscreen, opening the message his mother had just sent him with the report. Attached to it was a series of high resolution digital photos of the Chasa staff. "Is this what you were looking for?" he asked.
"Yes," replied Magnus, zooming and expanding the image of the faded carvings that decorated the length of the staff. "I knew it, this is an ancient form of warlock."
"Can you translate it?"
"With Kat's help, I might," Magnus replied as he stood up and started for the door. But before leaving the room, he stopped and turned. "I am sorry Alexander," he said with a sympathetic smile that conveyed to Alec that he knew, not only how disappointed he felt, but also what he had told his parents.
"We were attacked." Izzy stated a couple of hours later, apprehension evident on her reflection on the computer screen. "Warlocks hit the Jade Wolf and took five werewolves."
Alec looked from Izzy to Luke standing behind her, his expression as anxious as his sister's. "How?" he asked.
"The warlocks portalled right into the restaurant," replied Luke. "By the time we realized what was happening, it was too late."
"Damn it," exclaimed Alec and rested his fists on the table. "This cannot be a coincidence. Bodies damped in front of the Institute and now werewolves taken. I am sick and tired of being a few steps behind that woman. How about the hotel?" he asked.
"Thing here are quiet," Izzy replied. "The vampires are still under the sedation spell that Catarina created, and we are strengthening security and wards. But Alec, the dead Shadowhunters were not all from New York. Annaliese may target downworlders from other cities."
"She might," said Magnus who at that moment walked into the room followed by Kat and Jeremy and came to stand beside Alec. "Izzy, do you still have the ring I sent Raphael?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "It is still in Raphael's room."
"Good, you, Catarina and the werewolves must remain as close to it as possible at all times. It has the power to not only counteract the effects of demonic poisoning, but it will also prevent any attempt to track you."
"I should go there," Izzy stated. "We need to plan for Venice. Catarina and I can portal into the Institute."
"I don't think that is a good idea right now," Magnus said. "If Kat and I are correct, Annaliese is going to try to get to the vampires and possibly target more Shadowhunters."
"Stay there for now," Alec instructed. "Magnus, were you able to translate the inscription on the staff?" he asked turning to the warlock.
"I think we have the closest to a translation as we are likely to ever get. This is ancient warlock, so some of the words might be missing or mean something else."
Magnus then tapped a few commands on one of the computers and a three-dimensional digital image of the staff appeared on one of the screens. "Kat, why don't you do the honors? You know the language better than me."
"Okay," replied Kat and after consulting the notepad on her hand, looked up at the group standing around the room as if to make sure everybody was present. "This is the best we were able to come up with. The words on the staff are actually a riddle that as far as we can tell reads:
"When faithful fire seven doors ignite,
and the path to freedom the night suns extend,
hands of foe and friend the shaft alight
and by beloved breath and innocent blood the untamed ascends."
"What does that mean?" Jace asked.
"It is basically a recipe for summoning Lilith," explained Magnus. "Faithful fire refers to the warlocks burnt in the attacks; the seven doors suggest the seven cities, Venice being the last one; the night suns are likely the stars that light the place where the rift can be opened to free the untamed one –Lilith."
"Could the shaft be the Chasa staff?" asked Alec.
"Yes, I suspect so," replied Magnus.
"The innocent blood has to be the Shadowhunters that Annaliese killed," offered Jace.
"I thought so too," Magnus said, "but Kat doesn't agree."
"Lilith and Annaliese would never consider the Nephilim to be innocent," Kat stated. "You are part angel, which makes you the enemy. You are the foe in the riddle. I asked your pathologist to take a closer look at the bodies from this morning. He found out that not only runes were removed, but the hearts were also taken."
"Why the hearts?" asked Alec.
"Because she needed their life force," Kat replied. "According to ancient warlock traditions, the heart is where life force originates."
"That would make werewolves the friends," offered Alec. "They are infected by demonic disease. Doe she mean to take their hands?"
"Very perceptive question, Alexander, as usual," said Magnus with a proud smile. "But the use of the word 'hands' is rather puzzling. It does not strictly translate as 'with their hands,' or 'by the hands'. I think the word refers to something else."
Alec stared at the words on the screen, which Clary had just finished typing. "Could the word hand refer to a number? As in five or a handful?" he asked.
"It could be," replied Magnus. With his index finger and thump, he traced the contours of his lips in a gesture of deep concentration. "How many werewolves were taken?" he asked turning towards the screen where the Izzy and Luke's faces were clearly visible.
"Five," replied Luke.
"But she killed only four Shadowhunter," Jace said.
Silent befell the room as everybody concentrated on the riddle. After a few moments, Magnus' expression changed from one of deep concentration to one of sudden understanding. "While I was her prisoner, Annaliese kept looking for you Alexander. In fact, she and Khuno were very frustrated that they couldn't track you. They don't know about the protections I left you. You might be the fifth Shadowhunter, which means that she is coming for you."
"Okay," said Alec and sighed. "That means that she doesn't yet have all she needs. She has opened all but one of the doors; and she has five werewolves but is still missing one Shadowhunter. Am I wrong to assume that 'innocent blood' is a reference to mundanes?"
"It is likely," replied Magnus.
"That doesn't sound good," Alec said. "I will contact the Clave, explain the situation, and ask for help from the Venice Institute. We need to keep the mundies out of this."
"We should also reinforce security at the Hotel Du Mort, and we should contact some of the other vampire clans," Kat suggested. "Werewolves are not the only ones who qualify as friends in the riddle. There is a reason why the attacks affected the vampires the way they did. I think she needs vampires affected by demonic poisoning. She may not be able to use magic to track their location, but that doesn't mean that she won't find out by other means. She may get the information out of the werewolves."
"Alec," Luke called from the screen. "The demonic poisoning is not only affecting the vampires. It has also affected my pack. The effect is less drastic because demonic disease affects us differently. But since the attacks, members of my pack have been more short-tempered than usual, prompt to fighting and to uncontrolled transformation. We have been able to keep it under control, likely because, since we have been guarding the hotel, we have been under the protection of the Hades ring."
"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Alec even though he already knew the answer. Shadowhunter duty dictated that they had to eliminate any downworlder that posed a threat. Despite all the headways that had been made in Nephilim-Downworld relationships, deep-rooted distrust still existed.
"You guys have a lot on your plate," he replied, "and, as I said, we have been able to control it."
"Okay then. You should keep your pack as close as possible to the Hades ring," stated Alec. "Izzy, I am sending all available personnel to you. We need to secure the hotel."
"I should come with you to Venice," Izzy said.
"Agreed," Alec interrupted her. "but for now, I need you to coordinate things there."
"Why do you think the warlocks will try to come here? The New York downworlders are not the only ones affected by the poison," Izzy asked.
"Annaliese is sending me a message," replied Magnus. "She wants me to know that my friends and my city are not safe. She is taunting me. She first attacked the New York Institute just to let me know that she could, she is now targeting Alec, and the New York Downworld." He wrung his hands, a telltale sign of his anxiety. "Alexander," he added turning to look at Alec straight in the eyes. "Annaliese needs me for the ritual, the way she needed me before. I think I am the beloved in the riddle."
"Her beloved?" asked Jace puzzled.
"She needs you because of your blood connection," Alec said, momentarily ignoring Jace's question. Then, turning to the others in the room, he explained what Magnus had told him that morning: that years before, Annaliese had needed Magnus for the ritual because of who his father was. He gave just enough detail, leaving out everything about Magnus' role in the Jakarta massacre. Magnus was thankful because he didn't think that, at this moment, he could answer questions about his dark past, or bear the looks of reprehension that he was sure to get from the Nephilim and perhaps even from Kat.
"That information can prove helpful," stated Kat pensively. "I think that between Magnus and I we can device a counter spell, or a potion that might, just might, stop the rift from opening or perhaps even resealed it. I remember seeing a spell like that described in an ancient book once. If I remember correctly though, we would require the same ingredients needed for the summoning spell."
"You are not suggesting we kill five Shadowhunters and spill mundane blood, are you?" asked Jace in a tone of outrage.
"No, of course not," replied Kat. "It is not strictly the life of the Shadowhunters that she needed to take. She needed their hearts. That is why she took the hears and left the bodies. I suspect that in time, she will do the same to the werewolves and vampires."
"And how do you suggest we take the hearts of Shadowhunters, mundanes and downworlders without killing them?" asked Izzy.
"We don't need to take their hearts," replied Magnus looking at Kat with a mixture of realization and excitement. "We need to extract fresh blood directly from the heart, where it is, according to ancient beliefs, imbued with life. We can use a simple spell to do that. We still need to figure out the counter spell, though," he added. "But if anyone can do, Kat and I can. I am after all the High Warlock of Brooklyn and Kat is one of the most knowledgeable warlocks I know."
"Okay then," said Alec. "We have a bit over twenty-four hours to figure out a plan of attack. Izzy, as soon as reinforcements arrive and you secure the Hotel, you should head here. Luke, it would great if you accompany us to Venice as well."
"Of course," replied Luke. "Annaliese took five members of my pack. It is my duty to rescue them."
"Thank you," Alec replied with a nod. "Izzy, I need you to get at least four hours of sleep before we leave or you are not coming with us."
"I will be fin…," Izzy started to say.
"It is an order," Alec said silencing her protest. "We cannot afford having a team member falling over from exhaustion during this mission. When was the last time you slept?"
At that moment, thousands of kilometers away, in the first-class dining room of a luxurious cruise liner floating on the Adriatic Sea, a beautiful young woman sat at a table by a window overlooking the water, a champagne glass in her hand and a distant look in her yes. She remained completely indifferent to the stares that she drew from the other passengers, who couldn't help admiring her small and beautiful figure, and the way in which her long black hair almost kissed her waist.
"Mundanes are so unsurprisingly petty and pedantic," Annaliese disdainfully thought as she listened to a couple quarreling at a table a few meters away. Despite being surrounded by the most exquisite of luxuries, dressed in the finest of clothes and adorned in the brightest of jewels, mundanes still found reason for discontent. Not even the view of the sea, extending like an indigo blanket outside the window under a red and orange sky, seemed to distract them from their petty squabble. The woman –thin and with a face that despite a thick layer of make-up still showed the inexorable passage of time –turned, and her companion –a portly bald man with the red nose of a cheap drunk –followed her gaze in Annaliese' direction as if they had noticed that she was listening in on their argument. The man blushed a deep red and the woman apparently kicked him under the table, and Annaliese understood that she was the reason for their bickering.
Unconcerned and bored already by the attention, Annaliese imperiously turned towards the window and took a sip of her champagne, the bubbles tickling her tongue as the cold liquid passed her lips. For an instant, she looked out towards a horizon that was interrupted solely by the silhouette of a vessel following a few hundred meters away, a vessel that only she could see. But soon her own reflection in the glass reminded her of the squabbling couple and a conceited smile curbed her lips. She thought that it was not her fault that her red silk dress hugged her hips so softly, that her hair fell in perfectly formed and silky black curls down her bare back, and that her eyes sparkled as blue sapphires this evening. It was certainly not her fault that her face and her body still preserved the same youth of more than five hundred years ago. "Mundanes are so easily deceived by glamor," she thought as she rolled a lock of hair around her finger.
A little game occurred to her, something that would both amuse her and teach the bickering couple a lesson, and with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, she turned to the seat beside her, looking for Khuno who was always eager to go with her on any adventure. But the seat was empty and for a moment the absence almost matched the void she felt in her heart. For over four hundred years, since that dark night they met when Annaliese was travelling through the lands of the Orichas in Africa, she and Khuno had been everything to one another. He had been her companion, her lover, her confidant, her right-hand and sometimes her left, her eyes and her ears, and, most of all, her heart. Now, he was gone, taken by perfidious hands, and she was once again alone, surrounded by warlocks that feared and revered her, but who didn't love her like Khuno had, like Magnus once had loved her too.
"No matter, my love," she whispered as she gazed out the window, willing the words to travel with the wind until they found Khuno. "When Mother returns to reclaim what is ours, we will be reunited once again."
"Miss Fen," a young voice with a heavy Greek accent, recalled her attention to the room. "The captain wonders whether you would grace him with your company at his table tonight. As you know it is tradition for cruise Captains to invite some of their most honored guests to join them."
Annaliese looked in the direction of the table situated in a place of honor by an immense window overlooking the first-class deck. An illuminated water fountain glimmered in the background in an ever-changing rainbow of colors. The captain, a handsome grey-haired man, dressed in a formal uniform smiled and bowed her head at her. Annaliese smiled back and then shifted her eyes towards the young Scandinavian beauty sitting beside him. Underneath the glamor, Annaliese could see clearly the grey leathery skin and the fins protruding from the bald head of one of her loyal warlock. The woman smiled back and Annalise was certain that her perfect smile, and her lovely blond hair dazzled all those who looked upon her.
"It will be my pleasure," Annaliese replied, the quarreling couple all but forgotten. She stood up and smoothed her dressed, her hand pausing for a second on the spot on her abdomen where her link to Mother extended towards Hades as if it was an umbilical cord. As she made her way across the dining room with the grace and poise of a queen, she turned and slightly nodded at the half dozen warlocks who, also glamored, sat on tables peppered around the elegant room. Another half dozen awaited her signal on the ship that hidden underneath heavy wards shadowed them a few hundred meters away. Four of her most trusted warlocks were on land carrying out the other part of her plan and delivering the message that would assure the timely arrival of the beloved.
"Everything is going according to plan, Mother," she thought as she extended her hand to the handsome captain. "Let the mundanes enjoy their last meal; tomorrow it will be our turn to feast."