The Red Scrolls of Magic (The Eldest Curses, #1)(10)

Tessa was more than a century old, but she was so much younger than Magnus, and he had known her almost her whole life. He had never stopped feeling protective of her.

“I’m headed for the Spiral Labyrinth and staying there. It’s always safe there. You, on the other hand, will probably be headed to more dangerous places. Good luck. Also—sorry about your vacation.”

“You shouldn’t apologize,” said Magnus. Tessa blew him a kiss as she stepped through the Portal, and both she and its bright glow vanished from Magnus’s living room.

Magnus and Alec didn’t move for several beats. Magnus still could not bring himself to look directly at Alec. He was too afraid of what he would see on Alec’s face. He stood in the middle of his Paris apartment with the man he loved, and felt very alone.

Magnus had harbored such high hopes for this getaway. It was only the start of their vacation, and now Magnus had an awful secret he was conspiring with a Downworlder friend to keep from Shadowhunters. Worse than that, he could not swear to Alec that he was entirely innocent. He could not remember.

Magnus couldn’t blame Alec if he was reconsidering the entire relationship. Date me, Alec Lightwood. Your parents hate me, I don’t fit into your world and you won’t like mine, and we won’t be able to go on a romantic vacation without my dark past casting a shadow over our whole future.

Magnus wanted them to get to know each other better. Magnus had a hard-won high opinion of himself, and he had an even higher opinion of Alec. He had thought he had unearthed every dark secret, wrestled every demon, accepted every personal flaw. The possibility that there might be secrets about himself even he did not know was a troubling one.

“Tessa didn’t have to apologize,” he said eventually. “I should. I’m sorry for ruining our vacation.”

“Nothing’s ruined,” said Alec.

It was the echo of what Magnus had said earlier that made him look at Alec at last. When he did, he found Alec smiling at him faintly.

Truth came tumbling helplessly from Magnus’s lips, as it sometimes did around Alec. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Alec said, “We’ll figure it out.”

Magnus knew there had been times in his long life when he was furious and lost. He might not recall the Crimson Hand, but he remembered the first man he had ever killed, when he was a child with another name in a land that would become Indonesia. Magnus had been a person he now regretted being, but he could not wipe away the red stains of his past.

He didn’t want Alec to see those stains, or be touched by them. He did not want Alec to think of him the way he knew other Shadowhunters thought of him.

There had been other loves in Magnus’s life who would have run screaming long before now, and Alec was a Shadowhunter. He had his high duty, more sacred to the Nephilim than love.

“If you felt you had to tell the Clave,” Magnus said slowly, “I would understand.”

“Are you joking?” Alec demanded. “I’m not going to repeat any of these stupid lies to the Clave. I’m not going to tell anyone. Magnus, I promise I won’t.”

Alec’s expression was appalled. Magnus was shaken by the intensity of his own relief, by how much it mattered that Alec had not believed the worst.

“I swear, I truly don’t remember anything.”

“I believe you. We can handle this. We just need to find and stop whoever’s actually in charge of the Crimson Hand.” Alec shrugged. “Okay. Let’s do that then.”

Magnus wondered if he would ever get used to being surprised by Alec Lightwood. He hoped not.

“Also, we’ll find out why you can’t remember this. We’ll figure out who did it, and why. I’m not worried.”

Magnus was worried. Tessa believed in him, because she was kind. Astonishingly, Alec believed in him. Even dazzled and dizzy with relief over Alec, Magnus could not entirely banish his own creeping unease. He couldn’t remember, and so it was possible—not likely, but possible—he might have done something then that he would be ashamed of now. Magnus wished he could be sure he deserved Alec’s faith. He wished he could swear to Alec that he had never committed any unforgivable sins.

But he could not.





CHAPTER FOUR




* * *





Much Abides


ON THEIR FIRST NIGHT IN Paris, Alec hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d risen from bed and paced the floor. He kept looking at Magnus asleep in their bed—the bed they slept in together. Nothing else had happened in that bed yet, and Alec was torn between hope and fear when he thought about what might happen there soon. Magnus’s silky black hair was spread on the white pillow, his skin was rich brown against the sheets. Magnus’s strong, lean arm was flung out into the space where Alec had been, a slender gold bracelet glittering on his wrist. Alec couldn’t entirely believe this was happening to him. He didn’t want to mess it up.

A week later, he felt exactly the same. He didn’t care if they were fighting a cult or in a hot-air balloon, or, for that matter, fighting a cult from the platform of a hot-air balloon, which was starting to feel like a plausible future development in his life. He was just happy to be with Magnus. He’d never imagined that a romantic vacation, with someone he really wanted to be with, was something he could actually have, or even something it was okay to want.