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"It's no excuse," Alec continued. "But I was afraid. She knew about me being gay, and she told me that she knew. She wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know, but I was scared of her because I didn't know her. She wasn't my friend then. She was just some mundane invading my family, and I knew Shadowhunters, I was friends with Shadowhunters, who if they'd ever guessed--they would have gone running to tell my parents, so my parents could talk sense into me. They would have told everybody. They would have thought they were doing the right thing."
"It wouldn't have been the right thing," said Simon, still furious but shaken. "Clary would never do that. She never even told me."
"I didn't know her then," said Alec. "You're right. She never told anyone, about any of it. She had every right to say that I'd gotten rough with her. Jace would have punched me in the face if he'd known. I was terrified she would tell Jace that I was gay, because I wasn't ready for Jace to know about me. But you're right. She would never, and she didn't." He looked out of the window, patting the baby on the back. "I like Clary," he said simply. "She always tries to do what's right, and she never lets anyone else tell her what right is. She reminds my parabatai that he wants to live. Occasionally I wish she'd take fewer mad risks, but if I hated reckless crazy-brave people, I'd hate . . ."
"Let me guess," said Simon. "His name rhymes with Face Herringfail."
Alec laughed and Simon mentally congratulated himself.
"So you like Clary," said Simon. "I'm the only one you don't like. What did I do? I know you have a lot on your plate, but if you could just tell me what I did so I can apologize for it and so we can maybe be okay, I'd really appreciate it."
Alec stared at him, then turned and walked toward one of the chairs in the attic. There were two rickety wooden chairs, both of which held cushions with peacocks embroidered on them, and there was a sofa. The sofa was a little slanted. Alec took one of the chairs, and Simon decided not to risk the sofa and took the other.
Alec put the baby on his knee, one arm carefully around his small, round body. With his free hand he played with the baby's tiny hands, tapping them with his fingertips, as if he were teaching the baby how to play patty-cake. He was clearly getting ready for a confession.
Simon drew in a deep breath, preparing for whatever it was. He knew it might be really bad. He had to be ready.
"What did you do?" Alec asked. "You saved Magnus's life."
Simon was at a loss. An apology seemed inappropriate.
"Magnus was kidnapped, and I went into a hell dimension to save him. That was my whole plan. All I wanted to do was rescue him. On the way, Isabelle was badly hurt. My whole life, I always wanted to protect the people I loved, to make sure they were safe. I should have been able to do it. But I couldn't. I wasn't able to help either of them. You did. You saved Isabelle's life. When Magnus's father was intent on taking him and there was nothing I could do about it, nothing at all, you stepped in. I'd undervalued you, in the past, and you did everything I ever wanted to do, and then you were gone. Isabelle was a wreck. Clary was worse. Jace was so upset. Magnus felt guilty. Everyone was so hurt, and I wanted to help them, and you came back but you didn't remember what you had done. I'm not really good with strangers, and you were a really complicated stranger. I couldn't talk to you. It wasn't that you did anything wrong. It was that there was nothing I could do to make it even between us. I owed you more than I could ever repay, and I didn't even know how to thank you. It wouldn't have meant anything. You didn't even remember."
"Oh," said Simon. "Wow."
It was weird to think of faceless strangers thinking of Simon as a hero. It was even weirder to have Alec Lightwood, who he'd thought did not even like him, talk about him as if he was a hero.
"So you don't hate me, and you don't hate Clary. You don't hate anyone."
"I hate people forcing me to talk about my feelings," said Alec.
Simon stared at him for a moment, an apology on his lips, but he did not speak it. Instead he grinned, and Alec grinned shyly back.
"I've been doing it way too much since I got to the Academy."
"I can imagine," said Simon.
He had not been sure what would happen with the baby Alec and Magnus were taking care of, but from everything Isabelle had said, she was sure they were keeping him. That must have required a conversation.
"I would like," Alec said, "not to talk about feelings again for about a year. Also maybe to sleep for a year. Do babies ever sleep?"
"I used to babysit sometimes," Simon said. "As I recall babies do sleep a lot, but when you least expect it. Babies: more like the Spanish Inquisition than you think."
Alec nodded, though he seemed confused. Simon made a mental note that it was his duty now, as Alec's established friend, to introduce Alec to Monty Python as soon as possible. The baby crowed as if he were pleased by the comparison.
"Hey," said Alec. "I'm sorry that I made you think I was mad at you, just because I didn't know what to say."
"Well," Simon said. "Here's the thing. I was helped along in my assumption."
Alec stopped playing patty-cake with the baby. He went still all over. "What do you mean?"
"You didn't talk to me a lot, and I was a little worried about it," Simon explained. "So I asked my friend, between us guys, if you had a problem with me. I asked my good friend Jace."
There was a pause as Alec absorbed this news. "You did."
"And Jace," said Simon. "Jace told me that there was a big, dark secret issue between us. He said it wasn't his place to talk about it."
The baby looked at Simon, then back at Alec. His small face looked thoughtful, as if he might shake his head and go: That Jace, what will he do next?
"Leave this to me," Alec said calmly. "He's my parabatai and we have a sacred bond and everything, but now he has gone too far."
"That's cool," said Simon. "Please exact awful vengeance for both of us, because I'm pretty sure he could take me in a fight."
Alec nodded, admitting this very true fact. Simon could not believe he had been so worried about Alec Lightwood. Alec was great.
"Well," Alec said. "Like I said . . . I do owe you."
Simon waved a hand. "Nah. Call it even."
*
Magnus was so tired, he stumbled into the Shadowhunter Academy dining room and thought about eating there.
Then he actually looked at the food and came to his senses.
It was not quite dinnertime, but there were a few students gathered early, even though Magnus did not anticipate there would be a rush on the slime lasagna. Magnus saw Julie and her friends at one table. Julie looked Magnus up and down, taking in the wrecked hair and Alec's T-shirt, and Magnus read deep disillusionment on her face.
So a young girl's dreams died. Magnus admitted, after a sleepless night and wearing one of Alec's shirts because Isabelle had destroyed several of his own and the baby had been sick on several others, he might not be at his most glamorous.
It was probably good for Julie to face reality, though Magnus was determined to, at some point, take a shower, wear a better shirt, and dazzle the baby with his resplendence.
Magnus had visited Ragnor at the Academy, and he knew how the meals there worked. He squinted, trying to figure out which tables belonged to the elites and which to the dregs, the humans who aspired to be Nephilim but were not accepted by the Nephilim as good enough until they Ascended. Magnus had always thought the dregs showed enormous self-restraint by not rising up aga
inst Shadowhunter arrogance, burning down the Academy, and fleeing into the night.
It was possible that the Clave was right when they called Magnus an insurgent.
He could not work out, however, which tables belonged to whom. It had been very clear, years ago, but he was certain the blonde and the brunette Simon knew were Nephilim, and almost sure the gorgeous idiot who wanted to raise a baby with Simon in a sock drawer was not.
Magnus's attention was attracted by the sound of a throaty, imperious voice coming from a Latina girl who looked all of fifteen. She was a mundane, Magnus knew at a glance. Something else he could tell at a glance: In a couple of years, whether she Ascended or not, she would be a holy terror.
"Jon," she was saying to the boy across the table from her. "I am in so much pain from stubbing my toe! I need aspirin."
"What's aspirin?" asked the boy, sounding panicked.
He was obviously a Nephilim, through and through and through. Magnus could tell without seeing his runes. In fact, he was prepared to bet the boy was a Cartwright. Magnus had known several Cartwrights through the centuries. The Cartwrights all had such distressingly thick necks.
"You buy it in a pharmacy," said the girl. "No, don't tell me, you don't know what a pharmacy is either. Have you ever left Idris in your whole life?"
"Yes!" said Jon, possibly Cartwright. "On many demon-hunting missions. And once Mama and Papa took me to the beach in France!"
"Amazing," said the girl. "I mean that. I'm going to explain all of modern medicine to you."
"Please don't do that, Marisol," said Jon. "I did not feel good after you explained appendectomies. I couldn't eat."
Marisol made a face at her plate. "So what you're saying is, I did you a huge favor."
"I like to eat," said Jon sadly.
"Right," said Marisol. "So, I don't explain modern medicine to you, and then a medical emergency occurs to me. It could be solved with the application of a little first aid, but you don't know that, and so I die. I die at your feet. Is that what you want, Jon?"
"No," said Jon. "What's first aid? Is there a . . . second aid?"
"I can't believe you're going to let me die when my death could so easily be avoided, if you had just listened," Marisol went on mercilessly.
"Okay, okay! I'll listen."
"Great. Get me some juice, because I'll be talking for a while. I'm still very hurt that you even considered letting me die," Marisol added as Jon scrambled up and made for the side of the room where the unappetizing food and potentially poisonous drinks were laid out. "I thought Shadowhunters had a mandate to protect mundanes!" Marisol shouted after him. "Not orange juice. I want apple juice!"
