The Red Scrolls of Magic (The Eldest Curses, #1)(50)



Alec ushered his group of unruly Downworlders to the nearest exit, collecting stray faeries with broken wings and a couple of dazed or drunk warlocks as they went. He made sure most of them were out, flooding the streets of Venice in a bright rush that made the canals look still, before he turned back to the vampires. Lily had entrusted Bat to Catarina, and they were all looking at him expectantly.

“Could you give me a boost up to the second floor?”

“I will not,” Raphael said icily.

“Sure, any friend of Magnus’s,” said Elliott, and then, off Raphael’s glare, added, “is someone we don’t like, definitely, not even a little bit, at all.”

The steps had caved in near the top of the staircase, and there was now only a jagged cliff off the top of the landing. Lily and Elliott launched Alec above their heads, his leap given velocity by their strength. He waved to them before he turned away, and Lily and Elliott waved back. Raphael had his arms crossed.

The mansion was quieter upstairs, save for the occasional crack of wood splintering and groan of the mansion’s weakening foundations. Alec began a room-by-room search. Most were empty, of course.

There was a crying werewolf girl in one room, huddled in a nest of bedclothes. Alec helped her out the window and saw her jump into the canal and dog-paddle away.

He discovered a pair of peris hiding in a bedroom closet. At least, he thought they were hiding, but he realized they had been making out the entire time and had no idea the party was over. He also freed a mermaid who had accidentally locked herself in one of the bathrooms.

Alec had just about covered the entire floor when he ventured into the library and came upon a group of Sighted mundanes overpowered by vines. A jungle of floorboards and pipes and other assorted home construction items had come to life and wrapped them up like mummies. The library was above the grand ballroom, and some of the magic from the battle had clearly seeped in.

Alec hacked his way to them with his seraph blade, cutting through the floorboards like a sickle across rows of wheat. He wrenched a strangling lamp from around a woman’s neck.

The living furniture seemed to be turning its attention toward Alec as the threat. That meant he was able to get the mundanes free as floorboards, pipes, and murderous footstools concentrated on him. He guided the terrified little group to the window and shouted for help.

Elliott appeared and caught the mundanes one by one as Alec threw them down.

“Pretty sure I know the answer to this,” Elliott called up to Alec, “but your position on me biting these people is . . .”

“No!” Alec shouted.

“Just checking, just checking,” Elliott said hastily. “No need to get worked up about it.” Alec felt wary about throwing down the last mundane, but then Catarina appeared, wielding bandages. The mundanes would be safe with her.

Alec’s own situation had become slightly worrying. For every pipe he cut, another took its place. The wooden boards curled around his ankles and wrapped around his wrists. The more Alec struggled, the more he became entangled.

Far too fast, his legs were tightly circled by copper piping, his waist by floorboards, and his arms by two wooden planks that had burst from the walls. A wooden vine wrapped around his wrist and squeezed so tight Alec’s blade dropped from his hand.

At this opportune moment, Shinyun prowled into the room.

“Alec?” she demanded. “What on earth is going on? Why is the palazzo falling down?”

Alec stared at her. “Where have you been?”

“Do you need help?” she said. Her unblinking, unmoving face was turned in his direction for several moments more, during which Alec did not know if she was amused, thoughtful, or marveling at what an idiot he was.

“I could burn you free,” she offered. Her hand began to glow, turning from orange to a hot, red, searing light. Alec could feel the heat through the vines, which were melting away quickly.

Alec was deeply relieved to see Magnus stroll into view, Malcolm at his side, dripping canal water. “Please don’t risk my boyfriend’s life or limbs,” said Magnus. “I am attached to both. Malcolm, please call off your . . . plants and things.”

The light died in Shinyun’s hands. Malcolm appraised the nest and then clapped his hands several times, taking turns alternating which hand was on top. With each clap, the vines receded.

“Where’s Barnabas?” Alec asked, shaking off the scraps and rubble as he stepped free of the mess.

“I encouraged him to leave,” said Magnus. “Subtly.”

“How?” asked Alec.

Magnus considered. “Maybe not all that subtly.”

Malcolm’s face was even more pallid than usual. “This is terrible,” he announced. “I think I may have lost my security deposit.”

“You don’t have a security deposit,” Alec reminded him. “You stole that Barnabas guy’s house.”

“Oh yes,” said Malcolm, cheering up.

Alec held Magnus’s hand as they made their way out of the ruins of the palazzo. It was a relief to have that link between them, the warm, strong clasp of Magnus’s hand a solid promise he was safe.

“So, as Alec was saying,” said Magnus as they passed through the remains of the foyer, “where have you been?”

“Out in the courtyard, when the building started to fall down,” Shinyun said. “I had no idea what was going on. I tried to make my way back in to you, but there were people who needed help.”

Cassandra Clare & We's Books