I wake up on the cold, stone floor of the Insititute Sanctuary, with no recollection of how I got here. My hip hurts from being pressed to the floor all night. There’s an ache in my head, and when I touch a hand to it, I find a cut along my temple. I must have got it in the battle and not even noticed. It doesn’t seem to be bleeding any more, though. At least, there’s no blood on my hand when I touch it.
I push myself onto my elbows and look around. Raphael’s here, curled up to the pillar by the wall. Some other vampires I recognise from the Praetor are here, including Chris and the two vampires who were talking to some of Luke’s pack last night. Everyone’s packed together, some people who know each other lay close. Simon is just waking up, along with most of the others. I wave him over.
“Hey, you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, you?” he replies.
He has a black eye and a bruise along his cheekbone, but he seems relatively uninjured.
“I’m fine.” I tell him. “How’s Izzy? And Jace and Clary?”
“I saw Izzy and Clary last night. They’re okay. Clary’s got a pretty bad sprain or something to her ankle, but she’ll be fine.”
“I saw Jace last night, and he looked okay.” I say, and then hesitate. “Is there any news…I mean, have you heard if Magnus is…?”
He smiles ruefully and shakes his head. “Sorry, Alec. I haven’t heard anything.”
I sigh. “Okay, well, I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see you soon.” He nods, and goes over to Lily to point her in Raphael’s direction, and help her to her feet.
Around half an hour later, everyone is awake. It would be hard to sleep through the noise in the Sanctuary. Despite the noise, which should be distracting me, my mind is refusing to obey my orders to stop worrying about Magnus. So I do what I did last night when anxiety was threatening to swallow me up; I throw myself into looking after the others. One of the shadowhunters has left a bandages and medical supplies, and I set to work with them.
I spend the next hour going from person to person, checking they’re okay, changing bandages and cleaning wounds. I check people for broken bones, help others to their feet or to find friends. Soon enough, it’s obvious that no one is fatally injured, thankfully.
As I’m washing the dried blood off the cut on my own head, the door opens. A slightly injured, extremely tired, group of shadowhunters and Downworlders pour into the Sanctuary. I press a bundled piece of fabric to my head, stemming the small trickle of blood that clearing my wound has brought, and pick my way through the crowd to Izzy.
“Hey, how are you?” I ask her.
She looks a little worse for wear; her face slightly swollen around her high cheekbones. She’s basically fine though, so I try not to worry too much. I think I worry too much.
“Yeah, I’m fine. What happened to you?” she says, indicating the cut on my head.
I move the fabric away to show her it isn’t bad.
“I could ask you the same thing.” I reply, and she touches a hand to her face.
“Touché.” She says, raising an eyebrow and I laugh.
My laugh promptly fades though, a serious look coming over me.
“How’s Magnus?” I ask anxiously.
“He’s okay, Alec. He got a pretty bad wound to his waist, but you already knew that. It didn’t it any organs or anything. Looked a lot worse than it actually was. He’s okay, he’ll be down for the meeting.”
I nod. “Jace? And Clary? Simon said she hurt her ankle.”
“Yeah, it’s sprained, quite badly. She’ll live though. Jace is fine. I think the only wound he got was to his pride; Dad made him go help look after the injured whilst we organised the meeting because Dad said he “just couldn’t be sensible” and “was making a fool of himself and all the other shadowhunters”.” Izzy laughs. “Personally, I thought it was hilarious.”
There’s a familiar ache in my chest and I step back, dragging Izzy with me towards the back wall.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s the curse.” I explain, slightly breathlessly, though I don’t know why as I don’t need to breathe.
Her face softens. “I know. But at least you know he’s here.”
I look across the room, but I can’t see him over the dozens of people. I nod vacantly to Izzy, then a familiar voice calls the room to order, and the meeting begins.
“Good afternoon to both the shadowhunters, and our friends from the Downworld.” Jia begins. She stands in the middle of the room with her husband, Patrick, my father and mother, and is commanding the room with quiet authority. “We are so fortunate to be here. We may be injured. We may have lost loved ones.” I see the red runes of Remembrance and Mourning, fresh on the arms of a view devastated-looking shadowhunters. “But,” Jia continues. “We are not defeated. And that is due to you; our treasured, respected Downworld allies.”
Some applause follows, and Jia pauses before continuing.
“We acknowledge and understand that without the intervention we received, we would not have survived this battle. Clearly, we were not always open to the idea of this alliance,” At this, my father receives a few glares. “But we are now pleased and proud of our new allies. And we would like to give our particular thanks,” she smiles. “To Mr Alec Lightwood.”
I look up, puzzled.
“We understand how much it must have taken to get so many people, who haven’t always seen eye to eye to agree to join forces to protect us.” Jia continues. “It takes a special sort of person to do that.”
This is what I love about the Praetor Lupus, I realise. This is why I felt a sense of welcome and belonging there. Because everyone belongs, everyone is welcome. Werewolves and vampires and warlocks, of every age and gender, together and united in the fact that they’re Praetorians. Yes, it did take a lot to get so many different Downworlders to help, but I can’t help feeling that if relations between Downworlders elsewhere were more like that of the Praetor, we would’ve had a much easier time uniting. I look over to where Matt stands, with his arm tucked around Anya’s waist, her head leaning against him. A warlock and a werewolf, brought together by the Praetor.
“So, Alec,” Jia continues, and I look back over to her. “We would like to offer you a place on the Council, as the first Nephilim-Downworld representative. Will you accept?”
I can’t speak for a moment, and then I just nod. Jia smiles and gestures for me to step forward. I go to her side and thank her, smile at my mom, shake my father’s hand.
“Thank you.” Jia says sincerely, and I smile. “Is there anything we can do for you?”
From here, from the centre of the room, I can see Magnus. He’s by the door, pressed close to the wall so I can get to the middle of the room without the curse hindering me. He’s smiling, his eyes soft. From where I stand, I can’t see his wound, can’t see if it hurts him to stand. I want to go to him, want to ask him if he’s okay, want to be by his side – where I belong – again.
“Yes.” I reply, my eyes shifting determinedly back to Jia again. “Lift my curse.”
A silence falls over the room and Jia seems flustered, her poise momentarily shaken.
“Urm,” she says hesitantly. “We…ah.”
She scans the room and seems to regain her composure.
“I’m sorry, but that isn’t possible.” She tells me. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a part of me that can’t believe how unbelievably stupid they’re being. After we just fought a war to save them being slaughtered, they’re still being so arrogant. But then again, the shadowhunters are hardly famed for their fairness. Usually, I’m not the sort to cause a fuss. I might as well just accept it; they haven’t changed their minds so far, they probably won’t now.
“Oh, yeah. No, I understand…” I start, but then I stop myself.
Actually, no. That isn’t fair. I’ve never caused a fuss before because I’ve never had something – someone – worth standing up and fighting for. But now I do. And so I stand up and fight.
I can feel a palpable tension in the air, dozens of Downworlders aching to voice their opinion, but clearly waiting for my response. At this point, even if I haven’t accepted my position formally yet, I’m still representing them. What I say is important, and I’ve rarely felt that before. I stand up straighter and begin to speak.
“Are you serious?” I say, and fight for my voice to steady. It quivers in anger, but I need to appear businesslike.
“Yes.” Jia answers, looking decidedly less sure of herself. “I’m sorry.”
“You would have died without us.” I say, and only now am I aware that Jia answers to my father. If she can’t lift my curse, it’s because he’s told her no. I turn to encompass him in my speech. “You would have died, and none of you would be here. And none of your precious Laws and rules that I spent so many years blindly following, without ever really understanding how pointless they were, wouldn’t apply to us. Because you, through your own arrogance, could never have made all these allies alone. You’re too stuck in your ways. Ways which are outdated and unfair and so unjust it’s hard to remember that shadowhunters are meant to be standing for justice and honour. Continue with what you do, by all means. But know this; if my curse remains, you can find yourself a new representative and some new allies.”
Jia looks shell-shocked, her mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out. She casts a desperate look at my father, and I allow my eyes to move toward him.
“Lift the curse.” He orders, and I bury my face in my hands, laughing in relief.
I nod, shaking Jia and my father’s hands. Then I fall into a swarm of hugs, cheers roaring in my ears. Then I push through to the front where a familiar tightness grips my chest, but I know why now. Now it’s familiar. I smile across the room and Magnus smiles back, giving me an encouraging look, before the Praetorians envelop me in a crowd of celebrations.