“I can’t blame him for bragging,” said Magnus.
“We’re so glad to have you here,” continued the blonde. “I’m Julie. I’m practically Simon’s best friend. I’m very cool with Downworlders.”
“How nice for us Downworlders,” Magnus murmured.
“I’m very excited for your lectures. And to spend time together. You, me, and Simon.”
“Won’t that be a party,” said Magnus.
She was trying, at least, and not all Nephilim did. And she mentioned Simon every other breath, despite Simon being a mundane. Besides, the attention was flattering. Magnus turned the smile up another notch.
“I look forward to getting to know you better, Julie.”
It was possible he misjudged the smile. Julie reached out a hand as if to take Magnus’s, and dropped her tray. She and Magnus looked down at the broken bowl and the sad, gray contents.
“It’s better this way,” Magnus said with conviction.
He gestured, and the whole mess vanished. Then he gestured to Julie’s outstretched hand, and a pot of blueberry yogurt with a small spoon appeared in it.
“Oh!” Julie exclaimed. “Oh, wow, thank you.”
“Well, since the alternative was going back and getting more of the Academy food,” said Magnus, “I think you owe me big. Possibly you owe me your firstborn. But don’t worry, I’m not in the market for anybody’s firstborn.”
Julie giggled. “Do you want to sit down?”
“Thank you for the offer, but actually, I was looking for someone.”
Magnus surveyed the room, which was slowly filling up. He still did not see Catarina, but at the door he saw Alec, with the air of someone newly arrived and talking to a mundane Indian boy who looked about sixteen.
He caught Alec’s eye and smiled.
“There’s my someone,” he said. “Lovely to meet you, Julie.”
“Likewise, Magnus,” she assured him.
As Magnus approached Alec, the other boy shook Alec’s hand. “I just wanted to say thanks,” the boy said, and left, with a nod to Magnus.
“Do you know him?” Magnus asked.
Alec looked mildly dazed. “No,” he said. “But he knew all about me. We were talking about—all the ways there are to be a Shadowhunter, you know?”
“Check you out,” said Magnus. “My famous boyfriend, inspiration to the masses.”
Alec smiled, a little embarrassed but mostly amused. “So, that girl was flirting with you.”
“Really?” Magnus asked. “How could you tell?”
Alec gave him a skeptical look.
“Well, it has been known to happen. I’ve been around for a long time,” said Magnus. “I’ve also been gorgeous for a long time.”
“Is that so?” said Alec.
“I’m in high demand. What are you going to do about it?”
He could not, and would not, have teased Alec like this years ago. Alec had been new to love, stumbling through his own terror at who he was and how he felt, and Magnus had been as careful with him as he knew how to be, afraid to hurt Alec and afraid to shatter this feeling between them, new to Magnus as it was to Alec.
It was a recent joy to be able to tease Alec and know he would not hurt him, to see Alec standing in a different way than he used to, easy and casual and confident in his own skin, with none of his parabatai’s swagger but with a quiet assurance all his own.
The dimly lit stone dining room, the clatter of students eating and gossiping, faded away, nothing but background to Alec’s smile.
“This,” said Alec. He reached out and tugged Magnus to him by the front of his robe, leaning back against the door frame and drawing Magnus slowly in for a kiss.
Alec’s mouth was soft and sure, the kiss slow, his strong hands holding Magnus close, pressed along the warm line of his body. Behind Magnus’s closed eyelids, the morning turned from gray to gold.
Alec was here. Even a hell dimension, as Magnus recalled, had been greatly improved by Alec’s presence. Shadowhunter Academy was going to be a snap.
Simon came up late to breakfast and found Julie capable of talking about nothing but Magnus Bane.
“Warlocks are sexy,” she said in the tones of one who had had a revelation.
“Ms. Loss is our teacher, and I am trying to eat.” Beatriz stared dispiritedly at her plate.
“Vampires are gross and dead, werewolves are gross and hairy, and faeries are treacherous and would sleep with your mom,” said Julie. “Warlocks are the sexy Downworlders. Think about it. They all have daddy issues. And Magnus Bane is the sexiest of them all. He can be High Warlock of my pants.”
“Uh, Magnus has a boyfriend,” said Simon.
There was a frightening glint in Julie’s eye. “There are some mountains you still want to climb, even though there are ‘No Trespassing’ signs up.”
“I think that’s gross,” said Simon. “You know, the way you think vampires are.”
Julie made a face at him. “You’re so sensitive, Simon. Why must you always be so sensitive?”
“You’re so terrible, Julie,” said Simon. “Why must you always be so terrible?”
Alec had been with Magnus, Julie reported. Simon was thinking more about that than Julie’s terribleness, which after all was not anything new. Alec was going to be staying at the Academy for weeks. He usually saw Alec in crowds of people, and it had never seemed the right time to talk to him. It was the right time now. It was time to talk it out, the problem between them that Jace had hinted at so darkly. He didn’t want there to be something wrong between him and Alec, who seemed like a good guy from what Simon could remember. Alec was Isabelle’s big brother, and Isabelle was—he was almost certain—Simon’s girlfriend.
He wanted her to be.
“Should we try to get a little archery practice in before class?” George asked.
“That’s jock talk, George,” said Simon. “I’ve asked you not to do that. But sure.”
They all got up, pushing their bowls aside, and walked to the front doors of the Academy, heading for the practice grounds.
That was the plan, but none of them made it to the practice grounds that day. None of them made it past the threshold of the Academy. They all stood on the front step, in a horrified cluster.
On the stone of the front step was a bundle, wrapped in a fuzzy yellow blanket. Simon’s eyes failed him in a way that had nothing to do with his glasses and everything to do with panic, refusing to register what was actually before him. It’s a bundle of junk, Simon told himself. Someone had left a parcel of garbage on their doorstep.
Except the bundle was moving, in small incremental movements. Simon watched the fretful stir beneath the blanket, looked at the gleaming eyes peering out from the cocoon of fuzzy yellows, and his mind accepted what he was seeing, even as another shock came. A tiny fist emerged from the blankets, waving as if in protest at everything that was occurring.
The fist was blue, the rich navy of the sea when it was deep and you were on a boat as evening fell. The blue of Captain America’s suit.