His bright tone did not sound convincing, even to himself. Tomorrow, he told himself, he would do better. He would stop feeling so crushed under the weight of the past and his fear of the future, and enjoy the present as he usually did.
“I’m sure you and Alec will enjoy that,” said Shinyun.
It was hard to tell, given her expressionless face, but Magnus thought that might be a peace offering. He smiled at her, as best he could.
“He’s very devoted,” Shinyun continued, gazing at Alec. His eyes were closed, but his arm was curved protectively around Magnus, even in sleep. “Doesn’t he ever quit?”
She reached out a hand to touch Magnus’s, but Magnus felt the muscles in Alec’s body go tense the moment before the Shadowhunter’s hand shot out to grab her wrist.
“I don’t,” said Alec.
Shinyun went still, then withdrew her hand. Alec’s head sagged instantly back against Magnus’s chest and he slipped into whatever twilight state between conscious and unconscious he currently occupied.
The gondola drifted under the Bridge of Sighs, a pale crown in the dim sky above them. Prisoners in the old days had seen their city for the last time from this bridge, before they were led to their execution.
Magnus noticed Malcolm watching them, his face white as marble. Malcolm had loved a Shadowhunter. It had not ended well. Magnus had spoken to him about it once, about getting over love and living on, about finding love again. Malcolm had shaken his head. He had said, I do not ever want another love.
Magnus had thought he was being foolish.
Perhaps all love sailed too close to madness. The deeper the love, the more dangerous.
The boat slid on across dark waters. When Magnus looked behind him, he saw the last sparks of his magic sinking and vanishing into the depths. The sparks winked, bright blue and brilliant white, the gentle ripples of the canal becoming by turns rich purple, pale pearl, and inky black under the not-yet-morning sky. The water was suffused with a final luminescence before his blue sparks drowned. Magnus slid his fingers gently through Alec’s wild, soft hair, and felt Alec’s head turn toward him a little in half sleep. He heard Malcolm singing and remembered again his words from long ago.
I do not ever want another love.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
* * *
Bitter Secrets
“WHEN IN ROME, ALEXANDER,” SAID Magnus, “one drives a Maserati.”
They had to get to Rome as fast as possible, and they couldn’t use a Portal, so Magnus said he was selecting the next best option. Shinyun was reading the Red Scrolls of Magic and ignoring them both, which was fine with Alec.
“An excellent choice,” said the attendant at the luxury car rental lot. “Gotta love a classic 3500 GT Spyder.”
Alec leaned into Magnus. “The car is also a spider?”
Magnus shrugged, flashing Alec an irresistibly bright smile. “No idea. I just picked it because it was Italian and red.”
Twenty minutes later the three were cruising down the A13 toward Bologna with the top down and the wind whistling in their ears. Shinyun was in the back, lying down with her boots propped up against the window and reading aloud from the Red Scrolls at intervals. Alec was in the passenger seat, struggling to navigate with only the help of an accordion-folded paper map in a language he didn’t understand.
Magnus, who was driving, said, “Been a while since I drove a stick shift. No jokes, please.”
They were in Florence in time for an early dinner. Magnus had made reservations at a restaurant so tiny Alec was pretty sure it was just the chef’s living room. It was the best pasta he had ever eaten.
After dinner, Magnus said, “We can’t just drive frantically all the time. We’ll crash. Let’s try to hit another spot on our old itinerary. We’re not far from the Boboli Gardens.”
“Sure,” said Alec.
Shinyun walked after them, the Red Scrolls tucked under her arm, even though nobody had asked her along.
Magnus narrated where they were going as they walked along the Arno, crossed the Ponte Vecchio, and moved in a zigzag to make detours at assorted street vendors. Magnus bought a scarf, a pair of sunglasses, a zeppola, and a cloak that made him look like the Phantom of the Opera.
They reached the Boboli Gardens Amphitheater and circled the statues lining the perimeter, working their way inward to the obelisk at the center.
“It’s been a while since we took a picture for the people back home,” said Alec.
Magnus linked elbows with him and dragged him past the Neptune Fountain and the Statue of Abundance, until he found a statue featuring a large naked guy on top of a giant tortoise. He declared this the perfect spot for a picture. He tipped back his Panama hat and struck a regal pose on one side of the statue, which he explained to Alec was called Morgante. Alec leaned on the other side, hands in his pockets, as Shinyun snapped several shots for them with Alec’s phone.
“Thanks,” said Alec. “I’ll send these and tell Isabelle we’re having a great time.”
“Will you?” Magnus asked.
Alec blinked. “Sure. I mean, I miss Isabelle and Jace, and Mom and Dad.”
Magnus appeared to be waiting for something else. Alec thought it over.
“I miss Clary, too,” he said. “A bit.”