Chapter Text
If legends were to be believed, Dragons were older than time itself and all those that came after it were borne from their very life force. As such, every being on this earth, in theory, had the capability to form a Dragon Bond. However, actually bonding with a dragon was an honor not many on earth could claim. There was no exact science to it, no genetic component, personality requirement, race, age, gender, sexuality, or any fathomable reason.
As the golden rule said: Only a dragon knew.
Isabelle had always been fascinated with dragons. They were unique, strong, proud, and intelligent, and their race was ancient, managing to adapt and survive in an ever-changing world. All beings were probably like children to them – infants, really – and even the most dedicated of scholars only knew a handful of things about them. They saw only what dragons allowed them to see.
It was why, in some ways, she wasn’t quite into dragon taming as her brothers were.
She meant no offense by any means. Being bonded to a dragon was an incredible honor. But that was just it. It was their honor to be bonded to dragons. Dragons only bonded with people because they allowed it. If they declined, there was nothing anybody could do. She didn’t think it was wise to forget for even a second that despite riding on their backs and ordering them around, they were the ones at the mercy of dragons.
Isabelle had always believed that it was proper to nurture a healthy respect for dragons, and not treat them as if they were inferior. That didn’t mean she loved Aja and Semyon any less. That was probably why she loved them more, because having a Bonded Dragon meant wearing your heart on your sleeve for all the world to see, for both the dragon and the rider.
“Are you okay, Aja?” Isabelle asked, reaching up to touch the great beast.
Aja bowed her head and nudged her snout against Isabelle’s hands, cooing gently. All dragons could understand human language, but only the Bonded Dragon-Rider pair had a telepathic connection to one another. She could still sort of understand Aja by observation and instinct, and she was just glad that the great Timberjack was all right.
“Did that Quaken hurt your wings?” she asked.
Aja leaned back and shook her wings out, showing the scratch marks. They didn’t seem deep and there was no blood, so it was probably just superficial. Plus, Alec would have been all over her if she was seriously injured.
There was a growl and Jace's Grapple Grounder Semyon appeared beside Isabelle, wiggling under her arm to get a hug. She wrapped her arms around his big head.
“How about you, Sem?” she asked. “You and Jace always do something dangerous without thinking of the consequences.”
Semyon looked a little cowed especially when Isabelle noticed the bandaged wounds across his torso and foreleg. She gave him a disapproving look, but pressed a kiss to his ears.
She didn’t want anything bad happening to Aja or Semyon, and not just because it would break Alec’s and Jace’s hearts. Aja and Alec had been Bonded for six years now after they found one another when Alec was seventeen years old. Jace found Semyon earlier, only fourteen when Semyon literally crashed into his life. Her brothers had lived their lives alone far longer than with their dragons, but she knew none of them – even their youngest brother, Max, or their parents – could remember life without the dragons.
So if she was feeling a little extra clingy and gave Semyon and Aja a few more chin rubs and nuzzles before she left, anybody who disliked it could kiss the soles of her 5-inch heels.
She made sure they were okay at the courtyard before she hustled off to the control room. A small crowd was gathered, and by the looks of things and the general aura they were emitting, it wasn’t going well.
“How’s Vince?” Isabelle asked as she neared.
“He already regained consciousness,” Alec said. “He needs to stay off the field for a week or two, but he’ll make a full recovery.”
Isabelle sighed. “That’s good.”
“How about things at your end?” Alec asked.
Isabelle took her place around the table beside Alec and across from Jace and Lydia. “I have the Forensics team analyzing all the stuff left behind, the demon ashes, the ichor, even the samples they took from all the claw marks and bite wounds from the team and the dragons.”
Lydia huffed. “Hopefully we turn something up, because we’re not having much luck finding out where those demons and dragons came from.” She tapped the screen of the table between them, bringing up a map of the city. She pointed at a large area marked in a circle. “We pinpointed the general location where they were first observed, and I already deployed a Recon team to scope the area. Hopefully that’s not a dead end.”
“Did the dragons and the demons come from the same location?” Jace asked.
Isabelle looked around, suddenly noticing something odd. “Where’s Magnus Bane?”
There was silence and Alec and Lydia had a silent conversation across the table that consisted of Lydia tilting her perfect eyebrows and Alec’s frown getting deeper.
Lydia cleared her throat. “Warlock Bane was… dismissed.”
Isabelle had to repeat the word in her head a few times to make sure she got it right. “Dismissed? What are you talking about?”
Lydia’s face was a blank slate. She was good at appearing impartial, but right now it was just infuriating. “He was a big help in banishing the demons and subduing the dragons–”
“And saving our lives,” Jace added under his breath. At least it seemed Isabelle wasn’t the only one opposed to what was going on.
“–but the Clave is insistent that he not be made a part of this,” Lydia said firmly.
“What? Why?” Isabelle asked. This didn’t make sense.
Lydia glanced at Alec, who wasn’t giving her an inch and continued to remain silent.
“Magnus Bane saved us and we are thankful. The Clave also extended their gratitude, but this is our problem to handle. It is our job to eradicate the demons, not his.”
“But Magnus Bane is an ally, not an enemy. Why aren’t we working with him?” Isabelle asked. This was absolutely ridiculous.
“I agree.” Jace piped up. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I might have pointed a sword at the guy in the heat of the moment, but we basically got our asses handed to us out there. We were outnumbered and caught off guard, and if he and his dragon didn’t come, we’d be dead by now.”
He paused to shake off a persistent baby dragon chewing at his boot. “And let’s not forget that we’re not just dealing with demons here. We’ve got rogue dragons to think about.”
“The Clave is more interested in finding out how Magnus Bane acquired a dragon,” Alec said with a sigh, ignoring Lydia’s sharp look. “Which, as I already said, was considered rare, but not impossible.”
Isabelle could understand that. Dragons and demons were natural enemies and, being part-demon, warlocks couldn’t carry a Dragonmark, the mark used to Bond dragons and humans. However, warlocks and dragons do find companionship with one another and sometimes they even worked together. Not often, but it happened. She turned to Lydia. Whatever she had obviously reported to the Clave was probably misinformed and biased.
“It’s an anomaly, yes, but isn’t figuring out what’s wrong more important than that?” she demanded.
Lydia waved a hand, trying to appease them. “I understand what you’re all saying, believe me. But the Clave… we all just need time to regroup. This is the first time we’ve seen demons and dragons work together. As warlocks are part demon, the Clave thinks it’s better to thread lightly.”
“And just because Magnus has a dragon, he’s immediately on the list of suspects?” Jace asked.
Lydia sighed, finally showing a crack in her usually flawless armor. But she didn’t dispute Jace’s claim. “Listen. We’re coming into this blind. Recon and Forensics are already doing their job. Depending on what we find, we’ll decide what to do and if necessary then, we can bring Warlock Bane into the fold.”
That was that.
Alec wasn’t deluded. He was a named co-head of the New York Institute, but he knew that he did more of the footwork while Lydia held more power and called most of the shots. It was an uneven partnership – if it could even be called a partnership – between Lydia as the Clave envoy and representative, and Alec as a soldier with a position that was just a title on paper and not anything of substance.
It was devastating, to be honest. He had dreamt of becoming the Head of the Institute since he was a child. What made it even more heartbreaking was that none of this was because of his doing and was only due to circumstance.
His parents, Robert and Maryse, were Heads of the Institutes for nearly a decade. It was a position they held with great pride despite the fact that it started out as a punishment for their dark past as ex-members of the Downworld-hating rebel group, the Circle. They had undergone rehabilitation and had since atoned for such transgressions, putting the New York Institute on the map with its efficiency and mission success, and building a legacy with three children that were all prominent and skilled Shadowhunters with a fourth that would soon begin training. His parents had grown loyal to the Clave that bordered on manic and robotic.
Then Valentine happened, or rather he came back.
Valentine Morgenstern was a rogue Shadowhunter and the leader of the Circle. He was obsessed with the idea of eradicating all demons and Downworlders, and over the past decades his mission was to find the Mortal Instruments, three objects that could be used to summon the Angel Raziel and compel one wish from whoever summoned him.
The Clave had possession of the Soul-Sword, guarded and kept safe at the Silent City. The Mortal Mirror was in the form of Lake Lyn at the Shadowhunters’ home country of Idris and was heavily guarded day and night by an elite team. The Mortal Cup, on the other hand, nobody even knew where to start looking for it.
Valentine had been an active threat almost all the days since.
He had been relatively quiet over most of the decade though. They still endured the occasional attacks from the Circle or from other fanatical followers, but nobody had seen hide nor hair of the mastermind.
And maybe that was what had lulled them all into a fall sense of security, because two years ago, they were caught off guard when Circle members and Valentine himself, raided an antique shop in Brooklyn, severely compromising the safety of mundanes and the secrecy of the entire Shadow World.
Almost every single Shadowhunter and Dragon-Rider pair had been deployed, even Alec and his siblings and their dragons, to capture Valentine and his minions, prevent that entire block from catching fire, and keep away the mundanes without completely revealing themselves or their glamoured dragons. Then there was securing the perimeter, trying to get evidence, retrieving the few Shadowhunters – including Jace, by the way – that ended up getting caught by the mundane police when their glamour fell through, trying to make sure they were no traces of their identities …
It was a mess of epic proportions.
They had barely caught their breaths when two months after, the same thing happened again, with Valentine and a few select members storming the store of a warlock named Elliot Nourse, and razing it to the ground.
Then there was the attack on the werewolves and Luke Garroway, the leader and alpha of the New York werewolf pack.
After that, there was an attack on the vampires of Hotel Dumort that claimed the (undead) life of then-leader Camille Belcourt.
The obvious theories started emerging – that Valentine was systematically attacking Downworlders, that he was looking for something, that he just wanted to stir up trouble. Until now, they still didn’t know what he had planned.
Lydia Branwell was initially sent as a Clave representative and mediator to help them handle the fallout from that first attack. When Valentine continued to stir up trouble, she became a fixture in the Institute. She was level-headed, practical, and fair and was surprisingly good at handling mundanes.
A few months ago, the Clave recalled Robert and Maryse back to Idris, both to shed some light as ex-Circle members and to help the task force being assembled to track Valentine. As Heads of the Institute, they immediately assigned Alec as their successor, which wasn’t much of a surprise. Everyone knew he had been training for it since the moment he became a Shadowhunter. Unfortunately, for all Alec had given his life, blood and devotion, the Clave wasn’t too keen on leaving just him in charge.
So the Clave, in all their power, appointed Lydia alongside him.
Lydia was a good diplomat, fair and honest – if brutally so – and she was admittedly a lot less uptight than the Lightwood parents. She allowed the dragons free roam even inside the Institute and she had been nothing but friendly to Alec, Jace, Isabelle, and the other Shadowhunters, but she was similar to their parents with regards to their subservience to the Clave.
Sometimes, it didn’t sit right by Alec.
But his loyalty was to the Institute, to his family, comrades, students, and his duty as a Shadowhunter. He could swallow his pride about this being his Institute so long as they all did their job. That didn’t mean he had to like it though.
Alec grunted and kept on with his workout. The night air was cool against his sweaty skin and Aja was helping by sweeping her long tail below his hands, so he had to do jumping push-ups to avoid getting swatted in the face. Aja was like him and didn’t sleep a lot, so oftentimes they found themselves having late night conversations. Sometimes the dragons that called the Institute home, the members of the night guard, and the night shift dragon tamers accompanied them.
You think Miss Branwell is making the wrong decision.
Aja said it as a statement, not an inquiry. She knew exactly what Alec was feeling and thinking.
“Not the wrong decision, just the…” He paused, locking his elbows with a sigh.
The Clave-approved one.
“The safe one,” Alec amended. “I just think she isn’t exercising all her options, especially when we’re in a time crunch and we’re not sure when the next attack is going to be.” He continued with his regime. “Would it be so bad to work with Magnus Bane? He is the High Warlock of Brooklyn.”
Aja tilted her head to the side.
He is a warlock and a Downworlder. The Clave has always been suspicious of Downworlders despite their supposed Accords.
That left a bitter taste in Alec’s mouth.
He didn’t know if it was the opinion of all dragons, and he didn’t really want to ask what Semyon thought as well. But just because dragons didn’t talk the way most humans could – only to their Bonded – didn’t mean they were unintelligent or without opinions.
The dragon race was ancient. They probably knew better than mundanes or Nephilims. Sometimes. Maybe.
Semyon was the most opinionated dragon Alec knew, going by Jace’s anecdotes of his dragon’s commentaries. Aja was the quieter sort, kind of like Alec, and she mostly kept her opinions to herself. She was an observer, so whenever she spoke, Alec usually tried to listen.
For all Alec and Aja were so in sync though, the Clave was one of the topics that occasionally caused them friction. Aja had made it no secret that she thought very little of the Clave and their policies. It wasn’t like Alec himself was in favor of the Clave – not exactly, not always, not often – but it was difficult for someone like him, who was in the system.
Another thing they didn’t quite agree with was when Alec accepted the position of co-head of the Institute. Aja just thought he was digging himself deeper into the whole mess, and she didn’t like Lydia all that much, always referring to her as Miss Branwell and not even looking her way. She had said worse during the first few months of them co-leading the Institute, but she knew better than to actually do anything that could cause harm to Alec and his infant position.
Alec moved on to do lunges. A three-year-old Hobblegrunt that the tamers nicknamed Leaf wandered over to him. They were caring for him until he was old enough to be moved to the Bangkok Institute where they had a preserve he would thrive better at. Hobblegrunts changed their colors to communicate their emotions, and right now Leaf’s skin was purple for curiosity, with splotches of yellow for happiness.
Alec kept on with his lunges, chuckling a little when Leaf tried to do the same. He was tall, reaching up to Alec’s shoulder and was doing a little jump and then bending his neck whenever Alec lunged. Leaf bent over too far at one point though, and tipped over on his head with a cry. Aja immediately reached out with a wing to right the baby and soothe its rumpled state.
Leaf remained seated, watching Alec and making clicking noises that Aja responded to with coos of her own. They were most likely talking, and either it was about him or about what happened earlier in the day. Semyon once told Jace that dragons loved gossip. It’s part of why they knew everything and everyone.
The sound of boots against the tiles made Alec look up and he nodded when Isabelle came to view with a baby Gronckle in her arms and two baby Scuttleclaws dancing around her feet.
“Hey, big bro,” Isabelle said, sitting down on a bench. The Gronckle, drowsy by the looks of it, let out a little purr and snuggled deeper into her arms. The Scuttleclaws both settled down at her feet, occasionally leaning up to get a head pat or neck scratch.
As all Shadowhunters were tested as part of their training, they found out that Isabelle had a high Bond-probability, far higher than even Jace or Alec. It wasn’t a fool-proof indicator – in fact, Aja and Semyon had laughed about it once or twice – but even Aja once said that Isabelle could just about Bond with any dragon she wanted. When Alec and Jace had asked her – just once, unlike their rather pushy parents – all Isabelle said was that she didn’t feel it was for her.
That didn’t stop the dragons though. There had been a few times where dragons tried bringing her gifts to earn her favor. One time a Sword Stealer brought her a jewel-encrusted sword and metal armor inlaid with gemstones and Alec was almost sure she was going to bond with it for the gifts alone.
Now Isabelle often helped the dragon tamers look after some of the dragons.
“How are the babies?” Alec asked, pausing to take a swig from his water bottle. “Ram and Kinai still can’t sleep?”
“No,” Isabelle pouted, taking turns rubbing the twin Scuttleclaws’ heads. “I think maybe staying outside with Aja and the other dragons might help them sleep tonight, but I didn’t want to leave Spinel alone in my room.”
Alec nodded and grabbed his sword, swinging it around. Leaf perked up, transfixed by the seraph blade. Alec made sure the blade was pointing far away from any of the babies.
“Other than that, I’ve got news actually,” Isabelle said, voice low because of the sleeping baby, but easy to hear in the quiet evening. “I got the results from all the evidence left at the scene earlier. Nothing turned up.”
Alec paused from his sword exercises. “What do you mean nothing?”
Spinel snored and Isabelle rubbed his teeny wings. “I mean, there’s nothing remarkable, nothing we haven’t seen before. The ashes from the demon and the dragons, and the ichor are characteristic of Ravenspawn demons, while residue from the wounds also turned up nothing new. We didn’t get much from the dragons, but even the wounds from Semyon, Aja and Devi came out clean.”
“Dammit.” Alec swung his blade, startling Leaf a little. He turned to Aja. “Did you nothing anything different about them?”
Aja shook her head.
Nothing unusual, aside from the obvious fact that they are assisting demons. We did try reaching out to them, but their minds were closed. They just wanted to fight.
Alec winced. “So that’s no help either.”
“Also, I may have sweet-talked Eros from Recon to tell me what happened after they scouted the area where we thought the dragons and demons came from,” Isabelle commented.
Even without him saying anything, Isabelle and Jace knew the imbalance of power between Lydia and Alec. They usually pulled favors or snuck around to get information to Alec first.
At the look on his sister’s face, Alec sighed. “Dead end?”
Isabelle nodded. “Dragons can’t portal, while demon rifts leave a signature, and they scoured practically every area they could. We can’t detect warlock portals, but that’s the only possible alternative.”
“Warlock portal?” Alec asked.
Spinel turned over in Isabelle’s arms, and she let him, rubbing his back. “Since you’re head of the Institute, you can grant clearance for a mission in a snap, so…” she trailed off.
Alec nodded. “We’ll get Jace and leave at first light. Let’s go talk to Magnus Bane.”
Magnus Bane had lived dozens of lifetimes and had gone on countless adventures, but this particular lifetime at this particular age and time seemed so much more than the last.
More adventures, more magic, more challenges, more dragons.
More family.
“Magnus, breakfast,” somebody called out from inside the loft. He had been in a bit of a daze that he didn’t notice what time it was.
“I’ll be right there, Biscuit,” he called out. He checked his clothes again, one of his more favorite ensembles – a white and green striped polo shirt halfway unbuttoned, light grey chinos, brown loafers, a dozen thin silver necklaces, his usual procession of earrings and rings, all topped off by flippy hair with green and silver glitters and a fully made up face.
He looked perfect, as always.
The dining room was a cacophony of noises and smells, just like every meal Magnus had in the past two years. It warmed something inside him. One of the walls of the dining room was made entirely of a humongous set of windows that led out to an overlooking balcony and a wide set of stairs leading to the rooftop. He waved a hand, making sure food was ready upstairs for the dragons and the cats that regularly dropped by.
The eight-seater dining table was set for three, though one already looked eaten in. Magnus’s cat, Chairman Meow, was curled up on the table, aiming to swipe some people-breakfast, as always, while Magnus’ Skrill companion, Cybele, was sunning herself by the windows as she munched on fresh eels and electric rays. With her was a Snaptrapper, with its four heads resting on the ledge and watching the sun come up. Both dragons were growling and squawking at one another, busy conversing.
Clary walked out of the kitchen, her long red hair in a bun and carrying a tray piled with pancakes, omelettes, toast and warm cups of coffee. She placed it on the table and moved to gather up the eaten plate.
“Luke had to run,” she said. “He’ll stay over again on Tuesday.”
“How about Sherman and Raphael? They already left?” Magnus asked, sitting at the head of the long table.
“Simon and Raphael said they were going to get some sleep, and they won’t come by tonight because they have dinner at Simon’s mom’s house.” Clary sat down at his right-hand side. “And seriously, Mags, you really should start calling Simon him by his name.”
“No. It’s more fun this way.” Magnus grinned with a wink. “And this looks good, Biscuit. Thank you.”
Clary Fray came to live with him less than two years ago after her mother’s passing. With her came her best friend Simon and her stepfather Luke. Both of them had homes of their own, but tend to visit Clary, Magnus and the dragons almost daily. Clary was a college student, and while Magnus wouldn’t accept rent, she usually helped with all the cooking, cleaning, and dragon-sitting around the loft.
Ever since he met Cybele and more and more dragons started to visit his loft, Magnus had long since renovated his entire building to be both fire and space-friendly. There were glamors and wards in place for demons and any unwanted, unfriendly guests, but most dragons were allowed to come and go as they pleased. The rooftop came with food and water and what looked like a small shed was enchanted to be so much bigger inside, letting in the dragons that needed a place to rest or sleep. There was even a pool inside the shed for any water dragons that might have wandered too far into the city. There were a fair few number of guest rooms available for anybody who wanted to stay, and the balcony had an overhang that allowed dragons a place to perch. The windows were usually left open and had easy-to-open latches to let in some of the curious ones. Also, almost everything was either fireproof, kept behind locked cabinets or drawers, and a few handy-dandy fire extinguishers were on hand for emergencies.
In exchange for the hospitality, Magnus’s entire building was probably one of the most well-protected structures in the city. There was never a shortage of dragons that watched over them day or night, demons usually stayed away after sensing the myriad of dragons that guarded the place, and it also gave Magnus a well-informed network, with dragons bringing in all sorts of news and gossip.
“Will you be staying in?” he asked Clary, while leaning over to give Chairman Meow some pancake. He still bit his finger in response, the ungrateful feline.
Clary nodded. “Yeah. I want to finish painting the mural inside the shed.”
“I see,” Magnus commented, taking a dainty bite of his meal. “If possible dear, please keep the dragons company and make sure not to come out for a while.”
Clary looked confused for a moment, before her eyes shone with understanding. “When?”
There was the shrill ring of a doorbell, making Clary jump. Magnus wasn’t surprised. Elar, a Deadly Nadder that passed by about twenty minutes ago, said that he saw people headed his way.
Magnus had means of his own, but dragons were some of the best informants.
“Now would be good, Biscuit.” He looked at his meal with a sigh. “And the breakfast looks so delicious too.”
“I’ve got more in the kitchen,” Clary said, grabbing her plate in one hand and her coffee in another. “In case you’re planning to play nice.” She called over to Chairman Meow, enticing the feline to follow her, and then gave Cybele and the Snaptrapper a friendly smile, before heading for the rooftop.
Once that was done, Magnus tapped his fingers to his throat, transmitting his voice to the intercom downstairs.
“Who is it?” he asked.
There was a shuffle, before a voice came on, female. “Good morning. We’re from the New York Institute. May we speak with High Warlock Magnus Bane?” There was a pause. “We need his help.”
“Come in and head on up,” Magnus said, cutting off the voice. He continued his breakfast as he went, making sure to stay neat.
By the time somebody knocked on his front door, Magnus wasn’t even a quarter of the way done. He was enjoying his meal and considering what time it was, no amount of business would stop him. Still, he was nothing if not a gracious host. He’d let them in, but if they were offended by him eating, they could wait outside until he was done.
Even before he opened the door, he knew who he was meeting – the Lightwood children and their adopted brother, the Wayland boy.
“Misters and Miss Lightwood, good morning,” Magnus said, the picture of grace and poise.
Isabelle stepped up, a polite smile in place. “Warlock Bane, hi. We met yesterday. I’m Isabelle. These are my brothers, Alec and Jace.” Beside her, her brothers had excellent poker faces, silently observing him. Magnus didn’t care. He had nothing to hide. Much.
“We know it’s early and we’re so sorry to bother you, but we need your help. It’s about the demon and dragon attacks yesterday.”
Cybele’s voice called out, sounding a tad bored and sounding like she’s still eating.
Those children’s hatchlings are here, but they are far, in hiding. Elar did not say they were bringing dragons on the way, so I gather these young ones followed the children.
Not bringing dragons, eh? It seemed the Shadowhunters were not spoiling for a fight then.
The slight pause as Magnus considered this seemed to spur Alexander into an explanation.
“We would have come yesterday,” he said, voice low. “But pressing matters kept us at the Institute. We would like to ask some questions. Maybe you might have answers where we have none.”
“Ah-hum.” Magnus nodded, taking time to appraise the man before him, who seemed to be watching him right back. He might have already seen them all yesterday, but Magnus was still somewhat caught off guard.
Cybele called out to him all the way from the other room.
ꙅuᴎǫɒm, your thoughts are far too loud.
Magnus didn’t bother apologizing. Cybele had heard far, far worse things from him than some frankly tame compliments for the tall, dark, and incredibly handsome man standing on the other side of the door.
There was something interesting about Alexander Lightwood. Magnus could feel it.
“Okay, then. Come on in,” he said. It was against his instincts, but he turned his back to them and led the way towards the dining room.
“Please call me Magnus. I don’t do too well with all the formality, especially not in my own home.” He waved a hand, motioning to the table. “Do excuse the meal but, as you said, it is still early.” He snapped his fingers, and the extra food, plates, utensils, and coffee from the kitchen materialized over the table.
“Breakfast and coffee, anyone?” he asked, sitting down.
The three were looking around, observing the place, gazes lingering far too obviously on the open doorway and the two dragons on his balcony, both of whom hardly cared for them.
Isabelle was the first to react, smiling pleasantly.
“You’re too kind, thank you.” She sat down to his left. Jace frowned a little, but sat beside her. Alexander was still for a moment, before eventually moving to sit at Magnus’ right. Divide and conquer, it seemed.
Magnus could read them like an open book, but he was far too amused to mock. He was hungry. Isabelle poured herself a cup of coffee, while Jace grabbed a piece of toast and not hesitating to take a bite. Alexander, on the other hand, remained still.
“Okay, then. You were saying? About the dragons and the demons?” He looked around as he poured more syrup on his pancakes.
The two looked to Alexander, who cleared his throat.
“We won’t mince words,” he said. “What happened to us yesterday was obvious – we saw demons and dragons working together and we almost got killed for it. Why they’re doing so, we aren’t quite sure, whether it was to just cause mayhem or take down civilians. But an even bigger and more important question is how. Ravenspawn demons usually have a master to command them. As for the dragons, we aren’t quite sure how or why they would work together with demons.”
Alexander reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small bag. “As far as evidence goes, all we have are the demon ashes left behind, but even then, it’s nothing remarkable. Even the dragons left us nothing to work with. We just wanted to know if you have any idea what’s going on and if you could help us.”
Isabelle took a sip of coffee, glancing at her brother for approval, before adding. “We also had a team inspect the area where we think the dragons and demons came from and we didn’t see evidence of a demon rift. Our only conclusion was…” she paused.
Magnus dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “That they came in through a warlock portal,” he said. He raised an eyebrow at them, so much for not spoiling for a fight. “And your Institute thinks that I–”
“No. You’re not a suspect.”
Alexander said it so precisely and matter-of-factly that it surprised Magnus. Even Isabelle and Jace couldn’t hide their surprised expressions fast enough.
From the corner of his eye, Magnus saw Cybele shift, could sense that her interest was slightly piqued.
Alexander didn’t seem embarrassed. He just looked at everyone as if it was obvious. “You don’t fit the profile. You’re the High Warlock of Brooklyn, too much of a prominent position to start causing mayhem. Your building is a well-known safe haven for dragons, so you don’t seem the type to hurt them, and I don’t think the dragons around here would approve of one of their own getting hurt. Also, you risked your life to help us.”
“Well,” Magnus leaned back, “I won’t deny that I’m pleased that this isn’t any sort of interrogation.” He took a sip of coffee and held out a hand. “Let’s have it, then.”
Alexander handed him the bag of ashes, and Magnus shook it, trying to get a feel of it.
“ɘ|ɘdʏɔ?” he called out. “Interested?”
Cybele let out a snuffle, not even bothering to look.
The Children of the Night and the Lycan Alpha have already said they detected nothing from the surrounding area. And if you didn’t sense anything odd from that thing, then obviously it’s nothing of note.
“I am torn between wondering if you are being logical or just completely unhelpful, my darling storm,” Magnus said.
He noticed the Snaptrapper beside Cybele move, two heads coming around to look at him. They let out soft trills and clicks.
“Upstairs, my flytrap friend,” he called out, motioning above them. “And please do come again. We’re always happy to have you visit.”
“Oh, and by the way,” Magnus turned to Jace and Alexander, “Your dragons seemed to be a few blocks over, hiding behind the law firm building, but still glamored. Feel free to direct them to the balcony. Better they be safe here than stuck out there.”
The three looked at him, surprised.
“Wait a second.” Jace leaned forward, excited but suspicious. “You can understand them? You can understand Dragonese?”
Magnus looked at all three of them. “Yes, I understand them, but no, I do not speak Dragonese.”
“But what was that?” Jace pointed at the dozing Cybele and the retreating Snaptrapper, who was crawling its way up to the roof. “And you use a different tongue when you talk to them.”
“And how did you know where our dragons were?” Alexander asked, eyes narrowing and hand unconsciously flying to the side of his left leg, the location of his Dragonmark most likely.
Magnus answered cautiously. They might not mean harm, but one could never be too careful. “To answer some of your questions, I have dragons coming and going. They spotted yours hiding a few blocks away and informed me. And, I am sure you are aware that only dragons speak Dragonese. I’ve been with dragons for centuries and I know every single one that comes to my home. That’s how I understand them. Communicating with them is still trial and error. If it were anyone other than some of my regular visitors, I would still fumble around trying to figure out what they want.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” Isabelle admitted.
“What language do you use to talk to them though?” Jace insisted, leaning forward half out of his seat.
Cybele suddenly growled and turned to them. The three quieted.
“Be calm, my dear. They are just curious,” Magnus said soothingly. He turned to Jace. “Now that, my friend, remains a secret between myself and my darling storm, Cybele.”
“Cybele,” Alexander muttered. “Speaking of, we… we never really did thank both of you for helping us.”
“Or apologize for pointing a sword at you,” Isabelle quickly added, reaching out to slap Jace on the arm.
“Magnus, Cybele, we’re thankful, truly, for saving us yesterday,” Alexander said, sincere.
“We couldn’t have done it without you.” Isabelle slapped Jace again and gave him a pointed look.
“Thanks and, um, sorry about that,” Jace shrugged. “We know you’re on our side, didn’t mean to start pointing swords.”
Magnus waved a hand. He could sense their sincerity and even Cybele seemed to accept that, or at least she went back to ignoring them, which was the same thing.
“We better get Semyon and Aja here,” Jace suddenly commented, pressing a hand to the inside of his left arm. “They should know better than to leave the Institute, especially if demons are on the loose.”
Magnus pointed at the open windows. “Have them come here. The rooftop is big enough and while my tenants know better than to fight, they might still feel a bit distressed at newcomers.”
“Thanks,” Jace said, pouring himself a cup of coffee, seeming more at ease. Even Isabelle grabbed a piece of toast. Alec remained unmoved.
“Going back to the problem,” Isabelle said. “Is there anything you can tell us about the ashes?”
Magnus placed the bag on the table. “I’m afraid to say there’s nothing helpful there, my dear.”
All three immediately deflated. It seemed they really were hoping Magnus could help.
Jace cursed under his breath. “Back to square zero then.”
“How can such a serious matter not turn out even a shred of evidence?” Isabelle balled her hands into fists.
They were interrupted for a moment by the appearance of two dragons. Cybele let out a huff and the rather beautiful, serene Timberjack alighted on the ledge, while the feisty-looking Grapple Grounder landed on the balcony, growling a little at their direction.
“Excuse me,” Jace said, standing up and heading to them. “Aja, Semyon, we said you didn’t have to come.”
Cybele was calm and watching the two dragons closely, but Magnus still kept an ear out for them just in case. Jace was lecturing them, and they both looked suitably cowed.
“Maybe that’s the point then,” Alexander muttered. He had acknowledged his dragon’s arrival, but he seemed deep in thought. “Cause a mess and leave nothing incriminating. Make us take this a lot more seriously than it really is.”
Magnus refilled his coffee with a wave of his hand. “That is possible.”
“But who planned it?” Isabelle asked. “Who could have the power or influence to make demons and dragons work together? And why? It doesn’t make sense.”
Magnus felt a tug at his mind. He glanced at his companion, but Cybele kept her eyes on their guests, ever vigilant.
He finished the rest of his meal, slightly cold from all the interruptions but he wasn’t about to waste Clary’s hard work. He wiped his mouth delicately with a napkin and with the wave of his other hand, he took away the dirty plates and immediately refilled his coffee.
“The ashes are nothing impressive and I myself did not notice anything out of place from the encounter, aside from the obvious conundrum with the demons and the dragons, of course,” Magnus said, injecting the appropriate tone of apologetic and consoling. “I’ll reach out to my contacts and see if there are any warlocks of interest around, and I’ll see if any of my visiting dragons know anything. Aside from that, the most we can do is wait, my dears – wait and see if this incident repeats itself and then cast ourselves a wider net of investigation.”
Both Lightwoods glanced at one another and then nodded. They obviously had nothing else to say apart from that.
“I guess that’s the only thing we can do,” Jace said, throwing himself back down on his seat.
They made small talk for a while. Their Institute, and Isabelle in particular, was caring for a pair of male, twin, Unbonded Scuttleclaws that couldn’t sleep and Magnus advised her to allow them to bathe in warm water or stay at a warmer place.
“It’s the dragon equivalent of a growth spurt. They’re probably cramping up and it keeps them from sleeping. Try not to keep them outside,” Magnus said as he saw them to the door.
“I see. I’ll try it then, thank you,” Isabelle said, sighing in relief.
“Thank you for your help, really,” Jace said.
Magnus waved it away. “I did not do much, but you and your dragons are always welcome to drop by.”
“Give us a call if anything happens, and we’ll do the same,” Alexander added.
Magnus wiggled his fingers in parting as Jace and Isabelle left, smiling politely as they went. Alexander was left, and the look of hesitance on the tall man was painfully obvious.
“Yes, Mister Lightwood?”
“Alec,” he said immediately. “Just Alec, please.”
“Okay then, just Alec.” Magnus teased. There was something painfully earnest about this man. “Is there anything else?”
Alexander’s – Alec’s – back straightened, a picture-perfect soldier. “Thank you for your help, and… I realized that despite having become the head…” he paused and an odd expression crossed his face, “…co-head of the institute, I have not had the pleasure of… of introducing myself formally. You have always offered the Institute your services back when my parents were holding office, and I am personally thankful.”
Magnus was surprised. “Um, thank you?”
Alec nodded. “And please feel free to contact us for anything, despite evidence to the contrary or what my partner, Lydia Branwell may have said.” His gaze swept down Magnus’s frame for a moment, and he ducked his head, ears tinged pink, before he nodded and turned on his heels to leave.
“Have a good day, Alexander,” Magnus called out.
Alec’s steps stumbled, just a little, and he looked back, ears red, before he nodded and hustled after his siblings.
Magnus walked out to the balcony. He could see two figures in the clear skies, the Shadowhunters’ dragons flying away. A few moments later, he looked down and saw three figures make their way out of his building and out on the streets.
Cybele let out a cry, and overhead, a pair of Slitherwings took flight, following after their guests. Not only were they naturally stealthy, but there were many dragons flying to and fro in the skies. They wouldn’t be noticed.
Since the moment Magnus settled down at his current residence, Cybele had made no qualms about asserting herself as the Alpha of his household. She passed judgment on every one that came by, whether they were just looking for a temporary place to rest or if they wanted to make their home here. Clary and the other members of their makeshift family certainly passed through Cybele’s rather judgmental eye before they were welcomed here. Even now Cybele still acted somewhat lukewarm to some of them.
Cybele was far from cold-blooded though. She had a tendency to be strict and overbearing and, even by her own admission, was the disagreeable sort, but she was also protective, generous and practical. She kept the dragons in line and the humans protected, and she always, always had everybody’s best interests at heart.
Magnus didn’t mind his rather irritable companion. For all he was centuries old, Cybele had lived centuries more. They’d had their arguments over the past decades – ranging from the simple to the utterly heart-breaking – but Magnus had far too much respect for her and far too great a trust in her instincts, knowledge and magic to undermine her.
Cybele shook out her wings, letting out little sparks that crackled across the tiled floors.
I feel no ill intent from the children and the hatchlings, but there are secrets that are not yours to share and battles that are ours to fight, especially not with the likes of them.
Magnus knew that. “But to what end can we carry the burden all by ourselves, mon cher? And you know I understand your sentiment, but it is unbecoming to judge these children by their predecessors or their race.”
Cybele let out a dragonish snort.
Kind they may appear to be, but those children are not some of ours. I would never risk our safety for anything, especially not for children playing detectives.
“I say give it time,” Magnus said. He had a feeling about the Lightwoods, but he had been wrong before. Cybele had impeccable instincts, but even she had been wrong before, though rarely.
“Who knows? They might surprise us.”
Cybele gave the dragon equivalent of a sigh.
You trust too easily, ꙅuᴎǫɒm.
Magnus sighed, leaning against the ledge. “My greatest weakness, I know. So is my tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt.”
Those are not weaknesses, my friend. It is just who you are.
Cybele turned to him.
I trust you. And you know I do not trust easily. Just be careful.
Cybele let out a little growl and jumped off the ledge. Magnus watched as she spread her wings at the last minute and immediately disappeared in a spark of electricity.
Magnus amended his earlier thought this morning.
He had lived dozens of lifetimes and had gone on countless adventures…
…what also came with this particular lifetime though were so much more problems.