Chapter Text
“I need you to tell me everything you know about Magnus Bane.”
Jace frowns, tugging his shirt into place. “Bane? No one’s seen him in years. Decades, maybe. Why?”
Clary winces, leaning against the doorframe. “Simon heard from that vampire, Camille, that Magnus might have been the one who took my memories.”
Jace folds his arms, considering. “He’s definitely powerful enough. Bane’s one of the strongest, most dangerous warlocks in the world. But I don’t know how your mother would have found him. Like I said, no one’s seen him in years. He just fell out of the world.”
“There must be some clues -”
“Magnus was an agitator. Always after the Clave to ease up on Downworlders, let the Downworld councils deal with them -”
“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”
“Supposed to, sure. When the councils bother. They like to skirt the Accords as closely as they can.” He shrugs. “The Downworlders claim the Clave is too tough, too quick to condemn, and maybe some of us are, but most of us are just trying to keep the peace. Bane didn’t like that, so Valentine thought he’d make a good ally, but Bane didn’t like that, either. He chose to run and hide instead of standing up for his people and his beliefs.”
Clary sighs, running a hand through her hair. “So it’s a dead end.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. There are still people - Downworlders - around who knew Bane. We could approach a few. If Magnus did take your memories, he may be willing to meet you.”
“Do you think that would work?”
“It might do.” He shrugs a little, smiling lopsidedly. “Can’t hurt to try, right?”
“I’d really appreciate it.”
“Hey. I promised to help you, and I meant it. If Magnus Bane can be found, we’ll find him for you.”
Alec isn’t happy about the promise when Jace tells him about it. But he goes along, because Jace is his brother and his parabatai and for whatever reason, this matters to him. He’s even less happy when they find themselves interrogating a warlock who’s name he never even heard in a warehouse near the werewolves’ hideout.
“I don’t know anything about Bane,” the warlock says lazily. “He abandoned the lot of us and went off to sulk somewhere after the Uprising.”
Clary takes a step forward. “Look, Magnus has been around recently. He’s been taking my memories for years and now I need them back.”
“My heart bleeds for you, little girl, but -”
“Don’t call me little girl!” she snaps. “Just tell us where he is!”
Magic sparks around the warlock’s fingers. Alec nocks an arrow automatically, but Jace is already lunging forward and Izzy is flinging her whip. Jace pushes Clary out of the way, and instead of falling back like any normal person would, she tries to turn back to the fight -
Forcing Izzy to alter her whip strike to avoid hitting her -
Just as the warlock ducks Jace’s swing. He steps straight into the whip, choking as it curls around his neck, gagging as the electrum burns into him. Izzy hesitates only a second before jerking the whip free, but it’s a second too long. The warlock lies sprawled and still at her feet.
Alec stares at the body for several seconds. Jace is fussing over Clary; Izzy is staring at her whip, breathing very quickly. Alec moves towards her, but she draws back, pulling the whip back and winding it around her wrist.
“We have to report this to the Clave,” Alec says, voice dull.
“He attacked Clary!” Jace protests.
“No, he didn’t,” Alec replies sharply. “His fingers lit up, that’s all. Clary, did you feel anything? Pain, control, sickness? Anything that might indicate he was affecting you?”
“No. No, there was nothing like that.” She’s teary, and he wonders bitterly whether it’s because of the dead warlock or the loss of a lead to Magnus Bane.
“The Clave needs to know. This risks violating the Accords if it’s not dealt with. I’ll take the blame, but -”
“No, you won’t, this was my idea!” Jace says, letting go of Clary to square off with Alec.
“They’re not going to do anything too much to me, it’d look bad for them if the scion of Lightwood was causing trouble.” At least, he hopes they won’t. Killing a warlock, his parents would get over quickly - they’d probably even be proud of him - but being a disgrace to the Lightwood name? That one will hurt.
“It’s my fault,” Izzy says. “I’ll take the blame.”
“No,” Alec says firmly. He’s not letting either of his siblings get in trouble for this. “Just let me -”
A blaze of light flares all around them, momentarily blinding them all. Alec blinks back tears, trying desperately to focus on the approaching figure, blue light flickering menacingly around its’ hands.
“What have you done?”
Alec straightens, wiping futilely at his eyes. “Who are you?”
The figure brushes past him to kneel beside the fallen warlock. Alec backs up a step or two, until he can sense Jace behind him; his arrow is still nocked, and he tightens the string without aiming yet.
His vision is clearing, and he watches the figure brush a gentle hand over the warlock’s face before pushing to his feet and spinning to face them.
Jace’s fingers tighten around his shoulder. Alec shrugs him off. He recognises the face from the files they’ve spent days going over, and he needs to be able to lift the bow if necessary.
“Shadowhunters, breaking the Accords?” Magnus Bane says. “What would the Clave have to say about this?”
He looks younger than the file photos made him seem, but much more weary. There’s no sign of the makeup or fancy outfits shown in the photos, either. This man looks very, very dangerous.
“This was an accident,” Alec says, trying to keep his voice steady and clear. They are in serious trouble here, that much is obvious. A list of the atrocities Bane has committed spools through Alec’s mind; killing three Shadowhunters - and Clary - won’t slow him down for even a minute. “We were on our way to report it to the Clave.”
Bane snorts. “Of course. You weren’t planning on - say - pretending this never happened?”
“No.” Alec tips his chin up. “We made a mistake and we’ll make amends.”
“There’s no magic here but mine. He wasn’t threatening you in any way. You’ve broken the Accords here, Shadowhunter. That allows me to break them too.” Light sparks around his fingers as he raises them.
“Wait!” Alec drops his bow, stepping in front of Izzy without thinking, spreading his hands placatingly. He can’t let this happen; he can’t let his siblings die here, like this. “Not them. It’s my mission; my fault.” He has to swallow, but his voice is level when he goes on, “Let them go and you can do whatever you want with me.”
Jace and Izzy both try to protest, and he silences them with a hand gesture and a glare. This is the only way he can see for them to get out of here.
“Darling,” Bane drawls, “I can do whatever I want with you whether they’re here or not.” Oh, god, Alec has no leverage…Bane tips his head. “That’s not just Shadowhunter loyalty. No Shadowhunter I've ever met would make an offer like that, and mean it. Not to a warlock. Why does it matter so much whether these ones live or die?”
Alec licks his lips, doing a quick calculation and deciding that honesty is best. “My brother and sister. And it’s my mission,” he says again. “This was an accident, and I’ll pay whatever debt you demand.”
“Alec,” Clary protests, dodging around Jace and coming into Bane’s line of sight for the first time. “You were trying to help me, I -”
Bane snaps his fingers, and Alec suddenly can’t move. Judging from Jace’s grunts, neither can he. Bane steps around Alec, pauses to murmur “I’m coming back to you, darling,” and moves out of his line of sight. Alec grits his teeth, trying to listen to what’s going on.
“Clary Fairchild, as I live and breathe.”
“How do you know my name?” There’s a pause as Clary obviously works it out. “Are you Magnus Bane?”
“The one and only.”
“You have my memories!”
He laughs softly. “I don’t have them personally, Clary.”
“Do you know where my mom is?”
“No.” He almost sounds upset about it. “No, I haven’t seen your mother in a couple of years, and the warlock who was with her, protecting her, is dead.”
Clary’s voice catches. “Dot?”
“Dot.”
“Why did you take my memories?” she demands, and Alec snorts to himself. Her grief over the dead warlock didn’t last long.
“Your mother insisted. I owed her a debt and that was how she chose to redeem it.” He circles back in front of Alec, studying him curiously.
“Here’s my offer,” he says finally. “Valentine is rising; I don’t need the Clave chasing me for taking perfectly justified revenge on the Lightwood children.” He gestures, and Alec finds he can speak, though not move yet. “You offer yourself freely and without coercion?”
“I do,” Alec says unhesitatingly. The words have the cadence of a vow, though it’s not one he’s familiar with. The intention is clear enough, though. "I'll do anything, if you'll only let them go unharmed."
“There’s a spell. Created for - let’s call it balance. If I call it down, it will judge your intent and if it's pure, it will bind you into my service until his death is paid for.” He looks back at the body. "Of course, if it's not pure, you'll burn where you stand. So consider carefully."
Alec snatches a breath. He's not worried about the threat; all he wants is to save Izzy and Jace, that has to count as pure. But… “How long…”
“Who knows. It will depend on how well you work off your debt. I'll know, roughly, once it's done.” He looks Alec up and down. “But you won’t. Be clear on this; you will not be able to leave my side without my permission, you will not be able to do harm to me, you will obey all my orders whether you like it or not, and you will not know how long it will last. Days, years. Could be anything. Could be a week, could be your whole life.”
For just a moment, Alec falters. Tied to a warlock - and not just any warlock, but Magnus Bane - for an unknown length of time? It’s a betrayal of everything the Clave believes in, he could be made to do anything, harm innocents or take part in warlock rituals or…
He can just about see Izzy, frozen in the corner of his eye. Jace is still grunting and groaning behind him. He can’t allow them to be hurt. Not when he can prevent it.
“Your service,” he repeats slowly. “I’m not a warlock.”
Bane snorts. “Not to worry, darling. There are other ways for you to be - useful.”
It’s almost enough to make him change his mind. Bane’s tastes are well known to the Clave, and even if they weren’t, his tone is clear enough. Alec can’t bear the thought of - but Izzy and Jace, IzzyandJace…
He thinks quickly. “What about her mother? Clary’s.”
“Alec,” Clary says from behind him, choked. Alec ignores it.
Bane cocks his head, watching him. “Is that really important right now?”
“It’s the only reason we’re even having this conversation. We were trying to find you to get her memories back. Can you help her?”
Bane shakes his head abruptly. “Clary’s memories are between her and me. They’re not for you to bargain with, and you have nothing left to offer me anyway. Unless you want me to take her instead? The Lightwoods could walk out of here and forget about her.”
“No.” Alec doesn’t stop to think about it. He doesn’t like Clary, but Jace will go crazy if Bane takes her, and whatever mistakes she’s made she doesn’t deserve to be bound to a warlock this way.
Besides, he doesn’t much like the way Bane keeps referring to the Lightwoods.
“Hmm. Do we have an agreement, then, or am I taking my revenge right now?” Blue mists swirl around his fingers, and he can hear the others start to choke.
“No,” he says quickly. “No, we have an agreement. I’ll do it. Please. Don’t hurt them, please."
Begging a warlock. His mother will be so disappointed in him, Alec thinks dully. A Lightwood should die proud and upright, not sell themselves to a Downworlder.
“Alec,” Jace gasps from behind him, forcing the word out against Bane’s spells.
Bane moves out of Alec’s line of sight again. “This one’s your parabatai?”
“Yes,” Alec says tightly. Whatever Bane is doing, Jace is close to panic. “Does that matter?”
“Not to me. Sister, you might want to keep him under wraps for a day or two. Until the spell settles on Alexander, the parabatai might find himself affected.”
“Izzy,” Alec says. “And Jace.”
“Really don’t care,” Bane says briskly, coming back around again. “I’m going to release all of you now. No one do anything stupid. The spell isn’t sealed yet, I can still change my mind.”
Jace crashes into Alec the moment the spell releases, and Izzy is just behind him. “Don’t do this,” Jace says, words tripping over themselves in his urgency. “We can find another way, you don’t have to -”
“A warlock of his power could kill us without thinking twice,” Alec reminds him. “This is the only way you three walk out of here. And we did kill one of his people. This is - fair.” It is fair. Alec has failed, again, but the others don’t have to pay for it. He can make up for it himself.
“What am I supposed to tell Mom and Dad?” Izzy asks, crying.
Alec shrugs one shoulder uncomfortably. “Tell them I messed up again, like I always do.” It won’t surprise them. The only constant in their relationship is their disappointment in him.
“Alec, I’m sorry,” Clary whispers. “I never meant -”
“I know you didn’t.” It’s not forgiveness, but it’s the best Alec can do right now. “I hope you find your mother.”
“Alec,” Jace says, clearly wrecked.
Alec folds him into a quick hug. “Get them home safe. And be careful. I won’t be watching your back for a while.”
“Any day now, Mr Lightwood,” Bane says, sounding bored.
“He’s only doing this because you’ll kill us otherwise!” Jace shouts. “How is that not coercion?”
“Very few would offer themselves like this and honestly mean it, Wayland. There’s considerable power in that kind of sacrifice. You’d do well not to dismiss it.”
He knows who they all are. The Clave hasn’t been able to find him for years, but he’s obviously been keeping tabs on them. Alec pulls free of Jace, moving to pass him his bow and arrows.
“You can keep those, if you want.”
He hesitates, looking at him. “Stele, too?” He hadn’t expected that. Why would his warlock captor let him keep his weapons?
“As you please. You won’t be able to use them in a way that would harm me, anyway.”
He nods, shouldering them again and moving closer to Bane. “How do…” He doesn’t know anything more than campfire tales about warlock magic, but this kind of thing usually calls for blood, doesn’t it?
“Apologise to him. Sincerely. And then I’ll call down the judgement.”
“And the others will be free to leave, unharmed?”
“Every hair exactly as it is now.” He gestures expectantly.
“I, uh -”
“Joseph,” Izzy says quietly. “His name was Joseph.”
“You didn’t know his name?” Bane’s voice is harder now.
Alec doesn’t respond, just sinks to one knee beside Joseph. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, studying the warlock's - the man’s - face. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn't want it to happen. I’ll do my best to make it right.”
He’s expecting a big, complicated spell, but all Bane does is reach upwards, grip a skein of bright purple light and yank it down so it covers both Alec and Joseph. He tenses, expecting pain, but it’s actually warm, running over his whole body, head to toes and back again before sinking beneath his skin.
Maybe it’s his imagination, but as he turns his hand over, there seems to be the faintest purple shimmer there.
“The spell is cast,” Bane announces. “You are now bound to my service. Pick up Joseph. Let’s bring him home.”
Jace comes to help. Alec nods reassuringly at him, holding the body carefully.
“Magnus, please,” Clary says. “My memories -”
“I have to deal with Joseph. Your memories can wait. I’ll be in touch.” He waves a hand, creating a portal behind himself. “Alexander, we are going to my home.”
“I don’t know where -”
“It’s enough information for the portal. I created them, after all.”
He wouldn’t have gone to all this effort if he was just going to abandon Alec to the limbo between the portals, and he clearly wants Joseph’s body safe. Alec squares his shoulders, turns away from the others, and steps into the portal without looking back.
Joseph’s death hits Magnus like a hammer.
Magnus has been in hiding on and off for most of his life, and full time for the last twenty years, since the Uprising failed and the Clave immediately swept it under the rug, since the Clave started coming down even harder on any Downworlder they don’t like. He’s seen too many ‘accidents’ and ‘unexplained Downworlder deaths’ to have any trust in the group who are supposed to be their peacekeepers.
Too many powerful warlocks have either bent to the Clave or gone missing, magic snuffed out. Magnus knows his power. He knows what the Clave would give to have leverage over him. He's been very careful not to give them any; he cares for no one but a very few, stays safe behind his wards, and does his best to ignore everything that’s happening beyond them.. The world will turn; things will get better again. They have to.
Rafael had passed along the news that the Sahdowhunters are actively looking for him again, and Joseph had offered to go and see what they want. “Maybe I can steer them away from you,” he said with a grin, heading off to the meeting without a worry. Magnus didn’t argue; Joseph hasn’t been active long enough for the Clave to care about him, and he’s strong enough to handle most problems himself.
And now he’s dead, life force snuffed out between heartbeats, and Magnus is ready to kill as he steps into the portal. He’s deliberately flashy as he steps out of the other side, and he’s rewarded with four Shadowhunters stumbling and blinking. He brushes past them without pausing, ignoring the demand for his name, as he kneels beside Joseph and bows his head.
The bruise is rising around Joseph’s neck. That’s the Lightwood girl’s whip. Even in his seclusion, Magnus has heard of the shining stars of the New York Institute, Lightwood, Lightwood and Wayland. If he'd known it was them looking for him…he closes his eyes for a moment, touches the bruise gently in apology, then stands and turns.
He can see the moment they realise who he is, Wayland and the Lightwood boy. The girl is still rubbing her eyes, maybe she was closer to him, and the fourth one is half hidden behind Wayland. A trainee of some kind, probably. Magnus doesn’t care.
“Shadowhunters, breaking the Accords? What would the Clave have to say about this?”
Historically, not much, of course. Magnus has seen too many attacks just like this one explained away to have any faith in Clave justice when it comes to Downworlders.
“This was an accident,” the Lightwood boy says. “We were on our way to report it to the Clave.”
Magnus snorts, keeping a very close eye on his bow. He knows the stories, that thing is deadly in Lightwood’s hands. “Of course. You weren’t planning on - say - pretending this never happened?”
“No. We made a mistake and we’ll make amends.”
As if it was that easy; as if the death of a warlock can be forgiven with nice words. As if it meant nothing.
Magic sparks around the hand hidden behind Magnus’ leg. “There’s no magic here but mine.” Nothing active, anyway; Joseph’s half finished summoning is lingering, but it’s not affecting anything. “He wasn’t threatening you in any way. You’ve broken the Accords here, Shadowhunter. That allows me to break them too.” He raises his hand into view, fury overpowering him.
“Wait!” The boy drops his bow, stepping in front of the girl, spreading his hands pleadingly. “Not them. It’s my mission; my fault. Let them go and you can do whatever you want with me.” The other two try to protest, and he waves them down.
Now this is interesting. As far as he can tell, the boy is absolutely serious. “Darling,” Magnus drawls - best to keep him off balance, after all - “I can do whatever I want with you whether they’re here or not.” He flares his magic again, searching. “That’s not just Shadowhunter loyalty. No Shadowhunter I've ever met would make an offer like that, and mean it. Not to a warlock. Why does it matter so much whether these ones live or die?”
There’s a brief hesitation before he says “My brother and sister. And it’s my mission. This was an accident, and I’ll pay whatever debt you demand.”
Family sacrifice. Joseph’s summoning is stirring. Magnus frowns a little, tracing it.
Oh no. No, no. This is very bad. Is there time to -
“Alec,” the trainee protests, trying to approach them. Wayland is holding her back, but now Magnus can see her, and oh. Oh, that explains a few things. “You were trying to help me, I -”
Magnus snaps his fingers, freezing them all in place; the bow is down, but Wayland still has a blade and the girl can access her whip in a second. He steps around Lightwood, pauses to murmur “I’m coming back to you, darling,” - the taste of his fear is intoxicating - and steps closer to Clary. “Clary Fairchild, as I live and breathe.”
“How do you know my name?” Her eyes widen suddenly. “Are you Magnus Bane?”
“The one and only.”
“You have my memories!”
Ah, she’s further along than he thought. “I don’t have them personally, Clary.”
“Do you know where my mom is?”
“No.” Magnus shakes his head slowly, regretfully. Jocelyn and Dot are just two more people he’s failed, now. “No, I haven’t seen your mother in a couple of years, and the warlock who was with her, protecting her, is dead.”
Clary’s voice catches. “Dot?”
“Dot,” he confirms softly. He’d liked Dot, respected the years and effort she put into keeping Jocelyn and Clary safe. His own involvement had been far more peripheral.
“Why did you take my memories?”
“Your mother insisted. I owed her a debt and that was how she chose to redeem it.” He moves on; Lightwood is still determined to sacrifice himself, and Joseph’s spell is eddying back and forth, trying to find its’ opening.
If only he could refuse it. But it’s far too late now. It all rests on the Lightwood boy.
“Here’s my offer. Valentine is rising; I don’t need the Clave chasing me for taking perfectly justified revenge on the Lightwood children.” He lifts the magic just enough for Lightwood to speak; he doesn’t know it, but this is his last chance to escape the fate he’s drawing to himself, and enmeshing Magnus in quite against his will. “You offer yourself freely and without coercion?”
Wayland is fighting so hard. It’s almost amusing.
“I do,” Lightwood says. "I'll do anything, if you'll only let them go unharmed."
“There’s a spell. Created for - let’s call it balance. If I call it down, it will judge your intent and if it's pure, it will bind you into my service until his death is paid for.” He looks back at Joseph, watching the spell catch more strongly. Of course it would be a Nephilim triggering this, he thinks bitterly. "Of course, if it's not pure, you'll burn where you stand. So consider carefully."
“How long…”
“Who knows. It will depend on how well you work off your debt. I'll know, roughly, once it's done.” There’s still time to make him change his mind. “But you won’t. Be clear on this; you will not be able to leave my side without my permission, you will not be able to do harm to me, you will obey all my orders whether you like it or not, and you will not know how long it will last. Days, years. Could be anything. Could be a week, could be your whole life.”
“Your service? I’m not a warlock.”
Magnus snorts. “Not to worry, darling. There are other ways for you to be useful.”
Lightwood hesitates. “What about her mother? Clary’s.”
Magnus frowns, a little bewildered. “Is that really important right now?”
“It’s the only reason we’re even having this conversation. We were trying to find you to get her memories back. Can you help her?”
The spell is ready to catch. Lightwood’s concern for someone not related to him is only hurrying it along. “Clary’s memories are between her and me. They’re not for you to bargain with. Unless you want me to take her instead? The Lightwoods could walk out of here and forget about her.” The spell won’t take if he gives her up; they could all still get out of this.
“No.” There’s no hesitation. Who is this boy?
“Hmm. Do we have an agreement, then, or am I taking my revenge right now?” Blue mists swirl around his fingers; he presses lightly, feels the others start to hack and gag.
He probably won't kill them no matter what Lightwood decides. But there's something cathartic about pretending.
“No,” Lightwood says quickly. “No, we have an agreement. I’ll do it. Please. Please don’t hurt them."
“Alec,” Wayland protests.
Magnus wanders towards him, lifting his tshirt to study the rune printed on his ribs. “This one’s your parabatai?” He doesn’t need to ask; the whole Downworld knows about this particular pairing. This is just to annoy Wayland. He trails a finger along the rune for the same reason.
“Yes,” Lightwood says. “Does that matter?”
“Not to me,” Magnus says carelessly. “Sister, you might want to keep him under wraps for a day or two. Until the spell settles on Alexander, the parabatai might find himself affected.”
“Izzy,” Lightwood says. “And Jace.”
Really? Trying to humanise them? That’s a rather mundane tactic for a Shadowhunter to use. “Really don’t care. I’m going to release all of you now. No one do anything stupid. The spell isn’t sealed yet, I can still change my mind.”
He can’t. It’s far too late. But he can’t show his hand, either.
“Don’t do this,” Wayland babbles as soon as he’s free. “We can find another way, you don’t have to -”
“A warlock of his power could kill us without thinking twice.” Magnus rolls his eyes; Lightwood hasn’t even bothered to lower his voice. “This is the only way you three walk out of here. And we did kill one of his people. This is - fair.” Now that’s unexpected, even coming from Lightwood.
Magnus turns back to Joseph, crouching beside him, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. The children are still crying together, and it’s starting to annoy him.
“Any day now, Mr Lightwood.”
“He’s only doing this because you’ll kill us otherwise!” Wayland shouts. “How is that not coercion?”
“Very few would offer themselves like this and honestly mean it, Wayland. There’s considerable power in that kind of sacrifice. You’d do well not to dismiss it.”
There’s no point in telling them that Lightwood has walked himself into this. The kind of sacrifice he’s willing to make, mixed with Joseph’s summoning - Magnus is barely involved in this at all.
Lightwood steps away from Wayland, picking up his bow and starting to pass it to the other Shadowhunter.
“You can keep those, if you want,” Magnus says, deliberately casual. He may not want to be part of this, but he’s starting to see the benefits. A Shadowhunter as a bodyguard, with Valentine on the rise…
Lightwood hesitates, looking at him. “Stele, too?”
“As you please. You won’t be able to use them in a way that would harm me, anyway.” No harm in getting that established early.
Lightwood slings the bow over his shoulder. “How do…”
“Apologise to him. Sincerely. And then I’ll call down the judgement.”
“And the others will be free to leave, unharmed?”
“Every hair exactly as it is now,” he promises.
“I, uh -”
“Joseph,” his sister tells him. “His name was Joseph.”
Magnus draws a deep breath. That one hurts, and he’s suddenly more eager for this. “You didn’t know his name?”
Lightwood doesn’t answer - he’s not trying to defend himself at least, Magnus will give him that much - just kneels and stutters out a stilted, but sincere, apology. The magic bursts into being overhead; Magnus catches it, guiding it away from the other three and into Lightwood and Joseph, binding them together, all three.
“The spell is cast,” he announces. “You are now bound to my service. Pick up Joseph. Let’s bring him home.”
Wayland moves to help, showing a surprising amount of care. Lightwood lifts Joseph carefully into his arms, holding him just as carefully.
Magnus wonders if either of them will realize he could easily use magic to do it.
“Magnus, please,” Clary says. “My memories -”
“I have to deal with Joseph,” Magnus says, irritated. “Your memories can wait. I’ll be in touch.” He waves a hand, creating a portal behind himself. “Alexander, we are going to my home.”
“I don’t know where -”
“It’s enough information for the portal. I created them, after all.”
Lightwood hefts Joseph’s body and steps through the portal. Wayland moves as though to follow; Magnus freezes him in midstep and he teeters angrily.
“Goodbye, Shadowhunters,” Magnus says, stepping through himself and closing the portal behind him.