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AliNovel > The Mortal Instruments City Of Bones > Chapter 26

Chapter 26

    Chapter 26


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    Magnus plucked the invitation out of her hand and


    looked at it with fastidious distaste. “I must have been


    drunk,” he said. He threw the door open. “Come in. And


    try not to murder any of my guests.”


    Jace edged into the doorway, sizing up Magnus with his


    eyes. “Even if one of them spills a drink on my new


    shoes?”


    “Even then.” Magnus’s hand shot out, so fast it was


    barely a blur. He plucked the stele out of Jace’s hand—


    ry hadn’t even realized he was holding it—and held it


    up. Jace looked faintly abashed. “As for this,” Magnus


    said, sliding it into Jace’s jeans pocket, “keep it in your


    pants, Shadowhunter.”


    Magnus grinned and started up the stairs, leaving a


    surprised-looking Jace holding the door. “Come on,” he


    said, waving the rest of them inside. “Before anyone


    thinks it’s my party.”


    They pushed past Jace,ughing nervously. Only


    Isabelle stopped to shake her head. “Try not to piss him


    off, please. Then he won’t help us.”


    Jace looked bored. “I know what I’m doing.”


    “I hope so.” Isabelle flounced past him in a swirl of


    skirts.


    Magnus’s apartment was at the top of a long flight of


    rickety stairs. Simon hurried to catch up with ry, who


    was regretting having put her hand on the banister to


    steady herself. It was sticky with something that glowed


    a faint and sickly green.


    “Yech,” said Simon, and offered her a corner of his T-


    shirt to wipe her hand on. She did. “Is everything all


    right? You seem—distracted.”


    “He just looks so familiar. Magnus, I mean.”


    “You think he goes to St. Xavier’s?”


    “Very funny.” She looked at him sourly.


    “You’re right. He’s too old to be a student. I think I had


    him for chemst year.”


    ryughed out loud. Immediately Isabelle was beside


    her, breathing down her neck. “Am I missing something


    funny? Simon?”


    Simon had the grace to look embarrassed, but said


    nothing. ry muttered, “You’re not missing anything,”


    and dropped behind them. Isabelle’s lug-soled boots


    were starting to hurt her feet. By the time she reached


    the top of the stairs she was limping, but she forgot the


    pain as soon as she walked through Magnus’s front


    door.


    The loft was huge and almost totally empty of furniture.


    Floor-to-ceiling windows were smeared with a thick film


    of dirt and paint, blocking out most of the ambient light


    from the street. Big metal pirs wound with colored


    lights held up an arched, sooty ceiling. Doors torn off


    their hinges andid across dented metal garbage cans


    made a makeshift bar at one end of the room. A lc-


    skinned woman in a metallic bustier was ranging drinks


    along the bar in tall, harshly colored sses that tinted


    the fluid inside them: blood red, cyanosis blue, poison


    green. Even for a New York bartender she worked with


    an amazingly speedy efficiency—probably helped along


    by the fact that she had a second set of long, graceful


    arms to go with the first. ry was reminded of Luke’s


    Indian goddess statue.


    The rest of the crowd was just as strange. A good-


    looking boy with wet green-ck hair grinned at her


    over a tter of what looked like raw fish. His teeth


    were sharp and serrated, like a shark’s. Beside him


    stood a girl with long dirty-blond hair, braided with


    flowers. Under the skirt of her short green dress, her


    feet were webbed like a frog’s. A group of young women


    so pale ry wondered if they were wearing white


    stage makeup sipped scarlet liquid too thick to be wine


    from fluted crystal sses. The center of the room was


    packed with bodies dancing to the pounding beat that


    bounced off the walls, though ry couldn’t see a band


    anywhere.


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    “You like the party?”


    She turned to see Magnus lounging against one of the


    pirs. His eyes shone in the darkness. ncing


    around, she saw that Jace and the others were gone,


    swallowed up by the crowd.


    She tried to smile. “Is it in honor of anything?”


    “My cat’s birthday.”


    “Oh.” She nced around. “Where’s your cat?”


    He unhitched himself from the pir, looking solemn. “I


    don’t know. He ran away.”


    ry was spared responding to this by the


    reappearance of Jace and Alec. Alec looked sullen as


    usual. Jace was wearing a strand of tiny glowing flowers


    around his neck and seemed pleased with himself.


    “Where are Simon and Isabelle?” ry said.


    “On the dance floor.” He pointed. She could just see


    them on the edge of the packed square of bodies.


    Simon was doing what he usually did in lieu of dancing,


    which was to bounce up and down on the balls of his


    feet, looking ufortable. Isabelle was slinking in a


    circle around him, sinuous as a snake, trailing her


    fingers across his chest. She was looking at him as if


    she were nning to drag him off into a corner to have


    sex. ry hugged her arms around herself, her


    bracelets nking together. If they dance any closer


    together, they won’t have to go off in a corner to have


    sex.


    “Look,” Jace said, turning to Magnus, “we really need to


    talk to—”


    “MAGNUS BANE!” The deep, booming voice belonged


    to a surprisingly short man who looked to be in his early


    thirties. He waspactly muscr, with a bald head


    shaved smooth and a pointed goatee. He leveled a


    trembling finger at Magnus. “Someone just poured holy


    water into the gas tank on my bike. It’s ruined.


    Destroyed. All the pipes are melted.”


    “Melted?” murmured Magnus. “How dreadful.”


    “I want to know who did it.” The man bared his teeth,


    showing long pointed canines. ry stared in


    fascination. They didn’t look at all the way she’d


    imagined vampire fangs: These were as thin and sharp


    as needles. “I thought you swore there’d be no wolf-men


    here tonight, Bane.”


    “I invited none of the Moon’s Children,” Magnus said,


    examining his glittery nails. “Precisely because of your


    stupid little feud. If any of them decided to sabotage


    your bike, they weren’t a guest of mine, and are


    therefore …” He offered a winsome smile. “Not my


    responsibility.”


    The vampire roared with rage, jabbing his finger toward


    Magnus. “Are you trying to tell me that—”


    Magnus’s glitter-coated index finger twitched just a


    fraction, so slightly that ry almost thought he hadn’t


    moved at all. Mid-roar the vampire gagged and clutched


    at his throat. His mouth worked, but no sound came out.


    “You’ve worn out your wee,” Magnus saidzily,


    opening his eyes very wide. ry saw, with a jolt of


    surprise, that they had vertical slit pupils, like a cat’s.


    “Now go.” He syed the fingers of his hand, and the


    vampire turned as smartly as if someone had grabbed


    his shoulders and spun him around. He marched back


    into the crowd, heading toward the door.


    Jace whistled under his breath. “That was impressive.”


    “You mean that little hissy fit?” Magnus cast his eyes


    toward the ceiling. “I know. What is her problem?”


    Alec made a choking noise. After a moment ry


    recognized it asughter. He ought to do that more


    often.


    “We put the holy water in his gas tank, you know,” he


    said.


    “ALEC,” said Jace. “Shut up.”


    “I assumed that,” said Magnus, looking amused.


    “Vindictive little bastards, aren’t you? You know their


    bikes run on demon energies. I doubt he’ll be able to


    repair it.”


    “One less leech with a fancy ride,” said Jace. “My heart


    bleeds.”


    “I heard some of them can make their bikes fly,” put in


    Alec, who looked animated for once. He was almost


    smiling.


    “Merely an old witches’ tale,” said Magnus, his cat’s


    eyes glittering. “So is that why you wanted to crash my


    party? Just to wreck some bloodsucker bikes?”


    “No.” Jace was all business again. “We need to talk to


    you. Preferably somewhere private.”


    Magnus raised an eyebrow. Damn, ry thought,


    another one. “Am I in trouble with the ve?”


    “No,” said Jace.


    “Probably not,” said Alec. “Ow!” He red at Jace, who


    had kicked him sharply in the ankle.


    “No,” Jace repeated. “We can talk to you under the seal


    of the Covenant. If you help us, anything you say will be


    confidential.”


    “And if I don’t help you?”


    Jace spread his hands wide. The rune tattoos on his


    palms stood out stark and ck. “Maybe nothing.


    Maybe a visit from the Silent City.”


    Magnus’s voice was honey poured over shards of ice.


    “That’s quite a choice you’re offering me, little


    Shadowhunter.”


    “It’s no choice at all,” said Jace.


    “Yes,” said the warlock. “That’s exactly what I meant.”


    Magnus’s bedroom was a riot of color: canary-yellow


    sheets and bedspread draped over a mattress on the


    floor, electric-blue vanity table strewn with more pots of


    paint and makeup than Isabelle’s. Rainbow velvet


    curtains hid the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a tangled


    wool rug covered the floor.


    “Nice ce,” said Jace, drawing aside a heavy swag of


    curtain. “Guess it pays well, being the High Warlock of


    Brooklyn?”


    “It pays,” Magnus said. “Not much of a benefit package,


    though. No dental.” He shut the door behind him and


    leaned against it. When he crossed his arms, his T-shirt


    rode up, showing a strip of t golden stomach


    unmarked by a navel. “So,” he said. “What’s on your


    devious little minds?”


    “It’s not them, actually,” ry said, finding her voice


    before Jace could reply. “I’m the one who wanted to talk


    to you.”


    Magnus turned his inhuman eyes on her. “You are not


    one of them,” he said. “Not of the ve. But you can


    see the Invisible World.”


    “My mother was one of the ve,” ry said. It was the


    first time she had said it out loud and known it to be


    true. “But she never told me. She kept it a secret. I don’t


    know why.”


    “So ask her.”


    “I can’t. She’s …” ry hesitated. “She’s gone.”


    “And your father?”


    “He died before I was born.”


    Magnus exhaled irritably. “As Oscar Wilde once said, ‘To


    lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune. To


    lose both seems like carelessness.’”


    ry heard Jace make a small hissing sound, like air


    being sucked through his teeth. She said, “I didn’t lose


    my mother. She was taken from me. By Valentine.”


    “I don’t know any Valentine,” said Magnus, but his eyes


    flickered like wavering candle mes, and ry knew


    he was lying. “I’m sorry for your tragic circumstances,


    but I fail to see what any of this has to do with me. If you


    could tell me—”


    “She can’t tell you, because she doesn’t remember,”


    Jace said sharply. “Someone erased her memories. So


    we went to the Silent City to see what the Brothers


    could pull out of her head. They got two words. I think


    you can guess what they were.”


    There was a short silence. Finally, Magnus let his mouth


    turn up at the corner. His smile was bitter. “My


    signature,” he said. “I knew it was folly when I did it. An


    act of hubris …”


    “You signed my mind?” ry said in disbelief.


    Magnus raised his hand, tracing the fiery outlines of


    letters against the air. When he dropped his hand, they


    hung there, hot and golden, making the painted lines of


    his eyes and mouth burn with reflected light. MAGNUS


    BANE.


    “I was proud of my work on you,” he said slowly, looking


    at ry. “So clean. So perfect. What you saw you would


    forget, even as you saw it. No image of pixie or goblin or


    long-legged beastie would remain to trouble your


    meless mortal sleep. It was the way she wanted it.”


    ry’s voice was thin with tension. “The way who


    wanted it?”


    Magnus sighed, and at the touch of his breath, the fire


    letters sifted away to glowing ash. Finally he spoke—


    and though she was not surprised, though she had


    known exactly what he was going to say, still she felt the


    words like a blow against her heart.


    “Your mother,” he said.


    13


    THE MEMORY OF WHITENESS


    “MY MOTHER DID THIS TO ME?” CLARY


    DEMANDED, BUT her surprised outrage didn’t sound


    convincing, even to her own ears. Looking around, she


    saw pity in Jace’s eyes, in Alec’s—even Alec had


    guessed and felt sorry for her. “Why?”


    “I don’t know.” Magnus spread his long white hands. “It’s


    not my job to ask questions. I do what I get paid to do.”


    “Within the bounds of the Covenant,” Jace reminded


    him, his voice soft as cat’s fur.


    Magnus inclined his head. “Within the bounds of the


    Covenant, of course.”


    “So the Covenant’s all right with this—this mind-rape?”


    ry asked bitterly. When no one answered, she sank


    down on the edge of Magnus’s bed. “Was it only once?


    Was there something specific she wanted me to forget?


    Do you know what it was?”


    Magnus paced restlessly to the window. “I don’t think


    you understand. The first time I ever saw you, you must


    have been about two years old. I was watching out this


    window”—he tapped the ss, freeing a shower of dust


    and paint chips—“and I saw her hurrying up the street,


    holding something wrapped in a nket. I was surprised


    when she stopped at my door. She looked so ordinary,


    so young.”


    The moonlight touched his hawkish profile with silver.


    “She unwrapped the nket when she came in my door.


    You were inside it. She set you down on the floor and


    you started ranging around, picking things up, pulling


    my cat’s tail—you screamed like a banshee when the


    cat scratched you, so I asked your mother if you were


    part banshee. She didn’tugh.” He paused. They were


    all watching him intently now, even Alec. “She told me


    she was a Shadowhunter. There was no point in her


    lying about it; Covenant Marks show up, even when


    they’ve faded with time, like faint silver scars against the


    skin. They flickered when she moved.” He rubbed at the


    glitter makeup around his eyes. “She told me she’d


    hoped you’d been born with a blind Inner Eye—some


    Shadowhunters have to be taught to see the Shadow


    World. But she’d caught you that afternoon, teasing a


    pixie trapped in a hedge. She knew you could see. So


    she asked me if it was possible to blind you of the


    Sight.”


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