Kieran swallowed hard, but his voice was steady. "Pain is just pain."
"Oh," said his father, "there is all manner of pain, little dark one." He did not move or make any gesture the way warlocks did when they cast spells, but Mark felt an increase in the weight of the atmosphere in the room, as if the air pressure had risen.
Kieran gasped and reeled back as if he'd been shot. He hit the bed, grasping at the footboard to keep himself from sliding to the floor. His hair fell over his eyes, changing from blue to black to white. "Mark?" He raised his face slowly. "I remember. I remember."
"Kieran," Mark whispered.
"I told Gwyn you had betrayed a law of Faerie," said Kieran. "I thought they would only bring you back to the Hunt."
"Instead they punished my family," said Mark. He knew Kieran hadn't meant it to happen, hadn't anticipated it. But the words still hurt to say.
"That's why you weren't wearing your elf-bolt." Kieran's eyes fixed on a point below Mark's chin. "You did not want me. You turned me away. You hated me. You must hate me now."
"I didn't hate you," Mark said. "Kier--"
"Listen to him," murmured the King. "Listen to him lie."
"Then why?" Kieran said. He backed away from Mark, just a step. "Why did you lie to me?"
"Consider it, child," said the King. He looked as if he were enjoying himself. "What did they want from you?"
Kieran breathed in hard. "Testimony," he said. "Witnessing in front of the Council. You--you planned this, Mark? This deception? Does everyone in the Institute know? Yes, they must. They must." His hair had gone black as oil. "And the Queen knows, too, I suppose. She planned to make a fool of me, with you?"
The agony on his face was too much; Mark couldn't look at it, at Kieran. It was Cristina who spoke for him. "Kieran, no," she said. "It wasn't like that--"
"And you knew?" Kieran turned a look on her that was hardly less betrayed than the one he'd turned on Mark. "You knew as well?"
The King laughed. Rage went through Mark then, a blinding fury, and he seized up the poker from the fireplace. The King continued laughing as he stalked toward him, raised the poker, and swung it--
It slammed against the golden acorn where it lay on the hearth before the fireplace, shattering it into powder. The King's laughter cut off abruptly; he turned a look of pure hatred on Mark and vanished.
"Why did you do that?" Kieran demanded. "Were you afraid of what else he'd tell me?"
Mark threw the poker against the grate with a loud clang. "He gave you back your memories, didn't he?" he said. "Then you know everything."
"Not everything," said Kieran, and his voice cracked and broke; Mark thought of him hanging in the thorn manacles at the Unseelie Court, and how the same despair showed in his eyes now. "I don't know how you planned this, when you decided you would lie to me to get me to do what you wanted. I don't know how much it sickened you every time you had to touch me, to pretend to want me. I don't know when you planned to tell me the truth. After I testified? Did you plan to mock me and laugh at me before all the Council, or wait until we were alone? Did you tell everyone what a monster I am, how selfish and how heartless--"
"You are not a monster, Kieran," Mark interrupted. "There is nothing wrong with your heart."
There was only hurt in Kieran's eyes as he regarded Mark across the small space that separated them. "That cannot be true," he said, "for you were my heart."
"Stop." It was Cristina, her voice small and worried, but firm. "Let Mark explain to you--"
"I am done with human explanations," said Kieran, and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.
*
The last of the shimmering Portal disappeared. Julian and Magnus stood, almost shoulder to shoulder, watching Alec and the children until they vanished.
With a sigh, Magnus tossed the end of his scarf over his shoulder and stalked across the room to fill a glass from the decanter of wine that rested dustily on a table by the window. It was nearly dark outside, the sky over London the color of pansy petals. "Do you want some?" he asked Julian, recapping the decanter.
"I should probably stay sober."
"Suit yourself." Magnus picked up his wineglass and examined it; the light shining through it turned the liquid ruby red.
"Why are you helping us so much?" Julian asked. "I mean, I know we're a likable family, but no one's that likable."
"No," Magnus agreed, with a slight smile. "No one is."
"Then?"
Magnus took a sip of the wine and shrugged. "Jace and Clary asked me to," he said, "and Jace is Alec's parabatai, and I have always had a fatherly feeling toward Clary. They're my friends. And there is little I wouldn't do for my friends."
"Is that really all of it?"
"You might remind me of someone."
"Me?" Julian was surprised. People rarely said that to him. "Who do I remind you of?"
Magnus shook his head without answering. "Years ago," he said, "I had a recurring dream, about a city drowned in blood. Towers made of bone and blood running in the streets like water. I thought later that it was about the Dark War, and indeed the dream vanished in the years after the war was fought." He drained his glass and set it down. "But lately I've been dreaming it again. I can't help but think something is coming."
"You warned them," said Julian. "The Council. The day they decided to exile Helen and abandon Mark. The day they decided on the Cold Peace. You told them what the consequences would be." He leaned against the wall. "I was only twelve, but I remember it. You said, 'The Fair Folk have long hated the Nephilim for their harshness. Show them something other than harshness, and you will receive something other than hate in return.' But they didn't listen to you, did they?"
"They wanted their revenge, the Council," said Magnus. "They didn't see how revenge begets more revenge. 'For they sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind.' "
"From the Bible," said
Julian. He had not grown up around Uncle Arthur without learning more classic quotes than he'd ever know what to do with. "But then there's a difference between revenge and vengeance," he added. "Between punishing the guilty, and punishing at random. 'Justly we rid the earth of human fiends, who carry hell for pattern in their souls.' "
"I suppose one can find a quote to justify anything," Magnus said. "Look--I don't tattle to the Clave, whatever the warlocks of the Shadow Market might think to the contrary. But I've known parabatai, dozens of them, what they're supposed to be like, and you and Emma are different. I can't imagine that if it hadn't been for the chaos of the Dark War they would even have allowed you to go through with it."
"And now, because of a ceremony that was supposed to bind us forever, we have to figure out how to separate," Julian said bitterly. "We both know it. But with the Riders out there--"
"Yes," said Magnus. "You are forced together for the moment."
Julian exhaled through his teeth. "Just confirm something for me," he said. "There's no such thing as a spell that cancels out love?"
"There are a few temporary charms," said Magnus. "They don't last forever. Real love and the complexities of the human heart and brain are still beyond the tinkering of most magic. Maybe an angel or a Greater Demon . . ."
"So Raziel could do it," said Julian.
"I wouldn't hold your breath," said Magnus. "Have you really already looked this up? Spells to cancel out love?"
Julian nodded.
"You are ruthless," said Magnus. "Even with yourself."
"I thought Emma didn't love me anymore," said Julian. "And she thought the same about me. Now we know the truth. It's not just that it's forbidden by the Clave. It's cursed."
Magnus winced. "I wondered if you knew about that."
Julian felt cold all over. No chance it was some kind of mistake of Jem's, then. Not that he'd really thought it might be. "Jem told Emma. But he didn't say exactly how it worked. What would happen."
There was a slight tremor in Magnus's hand as he passed it over his eyes. "Look up the story of Silas Pangborn and Eloisa Ravenscar. There are other stories too, though the Silent Brothers do their best to keep it quiet." His cat's eyes were bloodshot. "You go mad yourself, first," he said. "You become unrecognizable as a human being. And after you become a monster, you are no longer able to tell friend from enemy. As your family run toward you to save you, you will rip the hearts from their chests."