Ghosts of the Shadow Market

by Cassandra Clare

  Alec tugged at the front of Max’s sailor suit. “That’s a lot of ribbons there, buddy.”

  Max nodded sadly. “Too much ribbons.”

  “What happened to your sweater?”

  “That’s a fine question, Alexander. Allow me to unfold to you the tale. Max rolled his sweater in the cat litter,” Magnus related. “So he could ‘look like Daddy.’ Thus he must wear the sailor suit of shame. I don’t make the rules. Oh wait, yes, I do.”

  He waved a reproving finger at Max, who laughed again and tried to grab for the glitter of rings.

  “It’s really inspiring to see you crazy kids making it work,” chipped in Elyaas the tentacle demon. “I don’t have much luck with romance. Everyone I meet is treacherous and heartless. Well, we are demons. Comes with the territory.”

  Magnus had insisted warlocks needed to know what summoning demons entailed. He said that the more comfortable Max was with them, the less likely he was to be tricked or terrified when he summoned his first. Hence the temptation lessons. Elyaas was not so bad, as demons went, which meant he was still terrible. As Max had passed the pentagram, Alec had seen the wicked silver curve of one tentacle moving hungrily close to the edge lest Max make a false move.

  Alec looked at Elyaas with narrowed eyes.

  “Don’t imagine I ever forget what you are,” Alec said grimly. “I’m watching you.”

  Elyaas held up all his tentacles in surrender, scooting to the other side of the pentagram. “It was a reflex! I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Demins,” said Max darkly.

  Magnus banished Elyaas with a snap of his fingers and a murmur, then turned back to Alec.

  “So, they’re asking for you in Buenos Aires,” said Magnus.

  “Yeah,” said Alec. “I don’t know why anyone at the Market wants me specifically, as opposed to any other Shadowhunter.”

  Magnus laughed. “I can see why someone might.”

  “Okay, other than that.” Alec grinned. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

  Magnus could speak Spanish. Alec wished that Magnus could go with him, but one of them always tried to stay home with Max. Once, when Max was still a baby, there had been a terrible time when they were both forced to leave him. Neither of them wanted to repeat it.

  Alec was trying to learn Spanish, as well as several other languages. The Speak in Tongues rune didn’t last and seemed like cheating. Downworlders from all over the world came to New York to consult with them these days, and Alec wanted to be able to talk with them properly. First on the list of languages he was trying to learn was Indonesian, for Magnus.

  Unfortunately, Alec wasn’t great at languages. He was able to read them, but when he was talking he found words difficult, no matter the tongue. Max had picked up more words in various languages than Alec.

  “It’s fine,” Magnus had commented once. “I never knew any Lightwood but one who was good at languages.”

  “Which one?” Alec had asked.

  “His name was Thomas,” Magnus said. “Tall as a tree. Very shy.”

  “Not a green-eyed monster like the other Lightwoods you’ve mentioned?”

  “Oh,” said Magnus. “There was a bit of the monster in him.”

  Magnus had elbowed him and laughed. Alec remembered a time when Magnus never talked about the past, when Alec thought it meant he was doing something wrong or Magnus didn’t care. Now he understood it was only that Magnus had been hurt before and was afraid Alec would hurt him too.

  “I thought I might bring Lily,” he told Magnus. “She can speak Spanish. And I thought it might cheer her up. She likes Jem.”

  Nobody at any Market would question Lily’s presence. Everybody had heard of the Downworlder-Shadowhunter Alliance by now, and it was well known that members of the Alliance helped each other out.

  Magnus raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I know Lily likes Jem. I’ve heard the nicknames.”

  Max looked back and forth at their expressions, his face bright.

  “Bring back brother orra sister?” Max hoped.

  They had talked with Max about the idea of another kid, as they had talked to each other. Neither of them had expected Max would take to the idea so much. Max asked about the brother or the sister every time one of them left the house: last Tuesday Magnus had forestalled the question by yelling, “Not getting a baby, going to Sephora. There are no babies at Sephora!” and bolting. One day at the park, Max had seized a pram with a mundane baby in it. Luckily, he’d been glamoured at the time, and the mundane mother thought it was a rogue gust of wind rather than Alec’s little rogue.

  It would be nice for Max to have someone to grow up with. It would be nice to have another baby, with Magnus. Still, Alec remembered when he’d first held Max, how the world and Alec’s heart had gone quiet and certain. Alec was waiting to be sure again.

  Alec’s pause left Max obviously thinking there was room for negotiation here.

  “Bring back brother anna sister anna dinosaur?” asked Max. Alec blamed Max’s attitude on his aunt Isabelle, who kept telling him his bedtime was never.

  They were saved by Jace’s signal, a faerie-leaf folded plane striking the glass of the window.

  Alec gave Max a little kiss, in the midst of his curls but avoiding his horns. “No, I’m going on a mission.”

  “I come with you,” Max proposed. “I be a Shadowhunter.”

  Max said that a lot too, for which Alec blamed Max’s uncle Jace. Alec looked appealingly at Magnus over Max’s head.

  “Come to Papa, bluebottle,” said Magnus, and Max went unsuspectingly to his open arms.

  “Go get Lily,” said Magnus. “I’ll have a Portal set up for you.”

  Max shrieked his outrage. “Down!”

  Magnus put him down gently. Alec paused at the door to catch one last glimpse of them. Magnus glanced up at him, touched his own heart with his ringed hand, and made a little flicking gesture. Alec grinned and opened his own hand to see the tiny blue spark of magic burning briefly there.

  “Hate you, Daddy,” Max said, and sulked.

  “That’s a shame,” said Alec. “I love you both,” he added quickly, and closed the door on his own embarrassment.

  The words were seldom easy for him to say, but he tried to say them whenever he was going on a mission. Just in case they were the last words.

  Jace was waiting for him on the sidewalk, leaning against a sad-looking city tree, flipping a knife from palm to palm.

  As Alec reached the sidewalk, there was a sound from above. Alec looked up to see Magnus, but instead he saw Max’s round face. Alec assumed Max wanted to get a glimpse of his magnificent uncle Jace. Then he saw Max was looking at him, big blue eyes mournful. He put his hand on the front of his sailor suit, then gestured to Alec the same way Magnus had, as if Max could do magic already.

  Alec pretended to see a magic spark in his hand and put the magic kiss in his pocket. Then he gave Max a last wave as he and Jace headed down the street.

  “What was that about?” Jace asked.

  “He wanted to come patrolling.”

  Jace’s face softened. “My good boy! He should—”

  “No!” said Alec. “And nobody will let you have your own kid until you stop putting other people’s kids in bags meant for axes and trying to smuggle them out on patrol.”

  “I almost got away with it, due to my supernatural speed and unmatched cunning,” Jace claimed.

  “No, you didn’t,” said Alec. “That bag was wriggling.”

  Jace shrugged philosophically. “Ready for another round of heroically defending the world from evil? Or if it’s a slow night, pranking Simon?”

  “Actually, I can’t,” said Alec, and explained the message from Jem and Tessa.

  “I’ll come with you,” Jace offered instantly.

  “And leave Clary to run the Institute alone?” asked Alec. “A week before her exhibition?”

  Jace looked shaken by the force of this argument.

  “You’re not l
etting Clary down. Lily and I can deal with whatever’s going on,” said Alec. “Besides, it’s not like Jem and Tessa can’t handle themselves. We’ll be a team.”

  “Fine,” said Jace reluctantly. “I guess three other fighters are an acceptable substitute for me.”

  Alec thumped him swiftly on the shoulder with a fist, and Jace smiled.

  “Well,” he said. “To the Hotel Dumort.”

  * * *

  From the outside the hotel’s facade was grimy, the graffitied sign the dark brown of old blood.

  Since Lily Chen had become the leader of the vampires of New York, she’d redecorated on the inside. Alec and Jace opened splintered double doors on a shining hall. The flight of stairs and the balcony above them had a glittering rail, gilt-painted iron fretwork depicting snakes and roses. Lily liked things to look like the 1920s, which she said was the best decade. The decor wasn’t the only thing that had changed; now there were hipsters in the know, and though Alec didn’t understand the allure himself, there was a waiting list to be a party victim.

  A pair of legs was sticking out from under the curving flight of stairs. Alec strode over and peered into the shadowy alcove, seeing a man wearing suspenders, a blood-smudged shirt, and a grin.

  “Hi,” Alec said. “Just checking. Is this a voluntary situation?”

  The man blinked. “Oh yes. I signed the consent form!”

  “There’s a consent form now?” Jace murmured.

  “I told them they didn’t have to do that,” Alec murmured back.

  “My fabulous fanged lady friend said I should sign it, otherwise the Clave would get stern with her. Are you the Clave?”

  “No,” said Alec.

  “But Hetty said that if I didn’t sign the consent form, the Clave would look at her with those disappointed blue eyes. Your eyes are very blue.”

  “And very disappointed,” said Alec sternly.

  “Are you bothering Alec?” demanded a vampire girl, running out of the double doors that led to the parlor. “Don’t bother Alec.”

  “Oh dear,” said the man in delighted tones. “Is my mortal soul doomed? Are you about to visit your undead wrath upon me?”

  Hetty snarled, and dived under the stairs with a giggle. Alec averted his eyes and headed for the parlor, Jace falling in behind him. Jace let Alec take point when it came to the vampires. As head of the New York Institute, Jace reprimanding a vampire might sound like a threat. Jace and Alec had talked over how to make the city welcoming to all Downworlders, now that New York was a refuge in the times of the Cold Peace.

  Through the parlor doors came the sound of music: not Lily’s usual jazz but a pounding mix that sounded like rap and jazz combined. Inside the parlor were tufted chairs, a gleaming piano, and an elaborate set of turntables and wires. Bat Velasquez the werewolf DJ was sitting cross-legged on a plush velvet sofa, fiddling with dials.

  In other cities, vampires and werewolves didn’t get along. Things were different in New York.

  Elliott, second in command of the vampire clan, was dancing around in a happy circle by himself. His arms and dreadlocks waved to the beat like plants underwater.

  “Is Lily up?” asked Alec.

  Elliott suddenly looked hunted. “Not yet. We had a bit of a late morning yesterday. There was an incident. Well, more a disaster.”

  “What caused this disaster?”

  “Well,” Elliott said. “Me, like usual. But this time it really wasn’t my fault! It was a total and complete accident that could have happened to anyone. You see, I have this regular selkie Thursday-night booty call.”

  Selkies were water faeries who shed their sealskins to assume human form. They were fairly rare.

  Alec subjected him to a judgmental stare. “So this disaster could have happened to anyone with a regular selkie booty call.”

  “Yeah, exactly,” said Elliott. “Or, like, regular booty calls with two different selkies. One of them found the other’s sealskin in my wardrobe. There was a scene. You know how it is with selkies.”

  Alec, Jace, and Bat shook their heads.

  “Only one tiny wall fell down, but now Lily’s all mad.”

  Lily had made Elliott her second in command because they were friends, not because Elliott had any aptitude for leadership. Sometimes Alec worried about the New York vampire clan.

  Bat said, “This guy. Why do you have to suggest threesomes to everybody? Why are vampires like this?”

  Elliott shrugged. “Vampires love threesomes. Live long, get decadent. We aren’t all the same, of course.” His face brightened with a pleasant memory. “The boss used to get very cross about decadence. But really, I’m ready to settle down. I think you and I and Maia—”

  “My abuela wouldn’t like you,” Bat said firmly. “My abuela loves Maia. Maia’s learning Spanish for her.”

  Bat’s slightly raspy voice went low and warm whenever he talked about Maia, the leader of the werewolves, and his girlfriend. Alec couldn’t blame him. Alec never worried about the werewolves. Maia always had everything under control.

  “Speaking of Spanish,” Alec said, “I’m going to Buenos Aires, and I’m asking Lily to come with me, since she’s fluent. By the time Lily gets back, she’ll have cooled off.”

  Elliott nodded. “A trip would be good for her,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “She hasn’t been doing well lately. She misses the boss. Well, we all do, but it’s different for Lily. It takes us like this sometimes.” He glanced at Alec and clarified: “Immortals. We’re used to seeing each other off and on through the centuries. Years go by, then someone’s back, and it’s just the way it was before. Because we stay the same, though the world doesn’t. When someone dies, it takes us a while to process. You think to yourself: I wonder when I’ll see him again. Then you remember, and it’s a shock every time. You have to keep reminding yourself, until you believe it: I’ll never see him again.”

  There was an achingly sad note in Elliott’s voice. Alec nodded. He knew how it would be, one day, when Magnus had to think “never again” about him.

  He knew how strong someone had to be, to withstand the loneliness of immortality.

  “Also, honestly, Lily could use some help with the clan.”

  “You could help her,” said Alec. “If you were just a bit more responsible . . .”

  Elliott shook his head. “Not gonna happen. Hey, Mr. Head of the Institute, you’re a leader! How about it? I make you a vampire, you help lead the clan, you stay gorgeous forever.”

  “That would be a gift to future generations,” Jace remarked thoughtfully. “But no.”

  “Elliott!” Alec snapped. “Stop offering to make people immortal! We have spoken about this!”

  Elliott nodded, looking abashed but smiling a tiny smile. From outside and above, a voice drifted down.

  “I hear someone bossing people around! Alec?”

  One of the most worrying things about the vampire clan was that speaking to them reasonably didn’t work at all, but they were delighted to be told off. Raphael Santiago had really left a mark on these people.

  Alec walked over and peered out the open doors. Lily was standing on the balcony, wearing rumpled pink pajamas with drawings of snakes and the words RISE AND STRIKE on them. She looked tired.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Hey. Jem asked me to come to Buenos Aires and help him out. Do you want to come with?”

  Lily lit up. “Do I want to come on a bro road trip with you, rushing to the aid of gorgeous damsel-in-distress Jem I’d-love-to-climb-’em Carstairs?”

  “So, yes.”

  Lily’s smile was wide enough to show fangs. “Hell yes.”

  She darted away from the balcony. Alec noted the door she went through, and climbed the stairs. He waited a bit, leaning against the rail, then tapped on the door.

  “Come in!”

  He didn’t come in, but he opened the door. The room inside was narrow as a cell, with stripped floorboards and walls bare except for a cross on a hook. This was th
e only room in the Hotel Dumort Lily hadn’t redecorated. She was sleeping in Raphael’s room again.

  Lily was wearing a leather jacket that had been Raphael’s too. Alec watched as she fluffed her hot-pink-streaked hair, then kissed the cross for luck and headed out. Christian vampires were burned by a cross, but Lily was a Buddhist. The cross meant nothing to her, except that it had been Raphael’s.

  “Do you . . .” Alec coughed. “Do you want to talk?”

  Lily tipped her head back to stare all the way up at him. “About feelings? Do we do that?”

  “Preferably not,” said Alec, which made her smile. “But we could.”

  “Nah,” Lily answered. “Let’s go on a road trip and see hotties instead! Where’s that idiot Elliott?”

  She ran lightly down the stairs to the parlor, and Alec followed her.

  “Elliott, I’m leaving you in charge of the clan!” said Lily. “Bat, I’m stealing your girl!”

  Bat shook his head. “Why are vampires like this?” he murmured again.

  Lily grinned. “For administrative purposes. Maia’s running the Downworlder-Shadowhunter Alliance until we get back.”

  “I don’t want to be in charge of the clan,” Elliott wailed. “Please be a vampire and lead us, Jace! Please!”

  “I used to walk in here and have to fight for my life as the place fell down around me,” Jace mused. “Now it’s all velvet cushions and insistent offers of immortal beauty.”

  “It’s just one tiny bite,” Elliott coaxed him. “You’ll like it.”

  “Nobody likes getting all their blood sucked out, Elliott,” Alec said severely.

  Both the vampires in the room smiled because he was telling them off, then looked upset because of what he was saying.

  “You only think that because Simon did it wrong,” Lily argued. “I’ve pointed out to him many times that he messed up everything for all of us.”

  “Simon did fine,” Jace muttered.

  “I didn’t like it,” said Alec. “I won’t talk about this again. Let’s get going.”

  “Ah yes.” Lily brightened. “I’m very curious to see how the hottest Shadowhunter in the world is doing.”