The Red Scrolls of Magic (The Eldest Curses #1)(77)

“My glorious destiny?” Magnus asked. “It’s always a glorious destiny. Have you noticed that? Nobody ever references the mediocre destinies.”

Shinyun said, “No. Mine is the destiny that will be glorious. You do not deserve glory. You started this cult as a joke. You had people pull pranks and heal the sick. You made a mockery of the name of Asmodeus.”

“Mockery is the best use I’ve found for his name,” Magnus murmured.

Shinyun’s voice was furious. “We should both have been loyal to Asmodeus. He favored you so greatly. You are not worthy of him.”

“He’s not worthy of me,” Magnus remarked.

Shinyun shouted over him. “I’m tired of your endless mockery and disrespect. We owe Asmodeus life. I will never be like you. I will never betray my father!”

“Your father?” echoed Magnus.

Shinyun paid him no attention.

“I had been buried alive for five days when the Crimson Hand rescued me. They told me Asmodeus had sent them to rescue his daughter. My father’s people saved me, because my father is always watching me. My mortal family betrayed me, and I slaughtered them. Asmodeus is the only one who loves me, and all I have to love. I have transformed the Crimson Hand from a mockery to a reality, and it is time to destroy the last insult. It is time to remove you, Great Poison. I will kill you for insulting Asmodeus. I will sacrifice your immortal life to him, and let him loose upon this world, and sit by his side for all eternity as his beloved daughter.”

“Yeah, about that,” said Magnus. “If you had the power of a Prince of Hell, I would have noticed.”

“If any warlock alive had the power of a Prince of Hell, they would already rule this world,” Shinyun told him impatiently. “All warlocks are Asmodeus’s children, if they prove themselves worthy. That’s what the Crimson Hand taught me.”

“So you’ve . . . adopted Asmodeus?” Magnus said. “Or he’s adopted you?”

He looked at her. He was not thrilled about being in prison. He was even less thrilled by the prospect of his inglorious destiny.

But he still couldn’t hate her. He still understood why she was the way she was, the forces that had shaped her and where the shadow of his own hands fell across her past.

“Don’t look at me like that! I don’t want your pity.” Shinyun stepped forward and closed her hands about his throat. Magnus gagged and choked—warlocks were immortal, but not invulnerable. He would die if deprived of oxygen. “You were never worthy,” she whispered, as he strained for breath. “My people should never have followed you. My father should never have honored you. Your place belongs to me.”

After a moment, Shinyun must have realized that she was choking the life out of her so-called father’s sacrifice. She let him go.

Magnus sagged back in his chains, gasping, as air rushed into his lungs.

“Why?” He choked. “All this time you were helping us, you were just leading us into this trap. Why didn’t you just grab me in Paris or on the train, or at any other opportunity you had? Why go through this charade?”

“Alec.” Shinyun said his name as if it was poison. “Every time I was close to seizing you, he got in the way. I had you cornered in the Paris Shadow Market until he arrived at the alley. We actually had you in our grasp on the train until he began cutting down all my demons like chaff. Alec took out the pack of Raum demons and most of the Ravener swarm. All that was left was my maimed brood mother. I couldn’t trust her to finish the job, and I couldn’t risk losing track of you. I decided I had to stay as close to you as possible.”

Shinyun’s laugh was different from any laugh Magnus had heard from her before. It was cruel, hollow, and bitter.

“I’ve become very skilled at pretending, over the centuries, in the service of my father. My face is a gift given to me, that I might serve Asmodeus better. People cannot see what I truly feel. They project onto a mask what they wish for, and never think that I am real beneath the mask. I give them what they want to see and tell them what they want to hear. But that Shadowhunter didn’t want anything from me, and the only thing that worked on you was making you feel sorry for me. I hated doing that so much, I hated you so much, and I still couldn’t stop him watching you, protecting you, always at the ready. I realized that the only way I could take you down was if I got you away from Alexander Lightwood first.”

Magnus thought of his regret earlier that day that Alec had felt driven to go to the Rome Institute. Now he was only grateful. Alec would be safe there, and Magnus could face anything, if Alec was safe.

Shinyun snapped her fingers, and several men entered Magnus’s cell. They were all dressed in white, with severe faces.

“Take him to the Pit, Bernard,” said Shinyun.

“Don’t take me to the Pit, Bernard,” suggested Magnus. “I hate the word ‘pit.’ It sounds ominous, and grubby. Also, hello, evil cult member Bernard!”

Evil cult member Bernard gave Magnus a peeved look. He was stick thin with dark hair slicked back in a way that accentuated his pointy chin and tuft of a beard, and an air of wannabe authority. He snapped the iron manacles off Magnus’s hands with unnecessary force. Magnus slid down to the ground with the chains no longer supporting him. Even Bernard posed a significant threat to Magnus right now. He forced himself to stand upright, but it was all he could do. He felt sick, and dizzy, and utterly bereft of magic.