Archive of Our Own

The soft sound of rain falling was the only sound for miles. It fell over the Scottish cliffside like a blanket of calm in a world that had felt anything but calm these last few years. It was the kind of rain that kept people sitting inside their warm homes, their heaters on or a fire blazing, only daring to go out if absolutely necessary.

For one lone figure creeping along the base of the cliffside, it was absolutely necessary to be out. The rain bothered him little beyond an annoyed huff as it dripped down into his eyes. A small magical shield kept it from completely soaking him as he silently made his way along a magical trail only he could sense.

Magnus Bane wasn’t all that fond of rain, but certain things were more important than staying inside and staying dry. The safety of the people he was responsible for was definitely worth getting a bit wet and cold.

There had been rumors lately of a power slowly starting to build in the world. Of some dark, dangerous magic, the likes of which should not have been possible. Those rumors spread as something grew in the air – magic so old its reverberations could be felt all over. Even by those who didn’t have any magic. It was enough to scare not just the general public, but the Elders as well. The Warlock Council had been meeting almost every other day for weeks trying to find a way to track down this magic – where it came from, what was causing it, and what it was for.

It only got worse when other rumors started to surface – rumors of Valentine’s return.

The horror that man had brought to the Downworld was something none of them had forgotten. Not even those who had been too young at the time to truly understand.

As Downworlders, they couldn't afford to forget the fear they’d felt when a crazy shadowhunter had risen to power. When his actions and his belief in a 'pure race' had almost killed them all.

His death had been too convenient for them when it came, too easy, and with no real proof. Very few believed the man actually dead.

To hear rumors these past few months about his potential return was enough to terrify them. It wasn’t a fear they could bring to the current generation of shadowhunters. Not when they were barely a few steps above Valentine’s beliefs and his actions, and had so often been raised knowing only an edited version of the story.

That meant that, as always, the Downworld was on its own. They had to take care of themselves.

Which was what had led Magnus here on this cold, wet night.

He’d been out most nights for weeks now trying to do his best to trace down the source of the magic he could feel. With Magnus’ strength, he felt it much more than many others out there did, and even he shivered a little at it. The magic didn’t feel bad, but it left a feeling of awe in him at the sheer strength of it, and a hint of fear that he couldn’t quite chase away. Like someone was trailing ghostly fingers up his spine. Occasionally that fear spiked harder, colder. It’d been enough to stop Magnus in his tracks more than once.

Unfortunately, tracing it down wasn’t easy. Magnus had been working on spell after spell to try and track it. He’d enlisted the help of some friends in the hopes of being able to finally pinpoint at least a small area. His travels so far hadn’t provided him with much.

But tonight – tonight he had hope. Even if the last few spells hadn’t worked, there was always the chance that this one might. At the very least, it’d latched onto something of power, even if Magnus wasn’t sure it was the power he was hunting. Either way, whatever it was the tracking spell had fixed on to, it was something powerful, and better he find that than someone else.

He just hadn’t anticipated it taking him to these seemingly normal cliffs.

Magnus held on to the thin rope of magic that was leading him forward. It was barely there – just a flicker of what it should be. Tracking something should have created an easy trail from him to whatever he was looking for. This was more like the thinnest of threads made out of a pale, pale light that flickered like a flame ready to go out.

Carefully, with as delicate a touch as he could manage, Magnus fed a bit more magic into the line. Yet it didn’t change. Whatever he was after, it was here. At these cliffs.

Magnus took a step back from the cliffside and looked upward, one hand lifted to shield his eyes from the rain. The cliff here was massive, and the sky was dark, making it hard to see. “Where the hell is it?” he murmured to himself. Whatever this was, it had to be here, even if he could see nothing but rock and dirt.

Letting go of the thin thread of the tracking spell – it had led him as far as it could – Magnus gathered his focus and once again studied the cliffside. This time, however, he used his magic as he did, probing for some sort of shield. Something that would indicate there was a hiding spot.

Wards were a specialty of his. Magnus knew how to make them, how to put them up, and more importantly, how to detect them.

If someone’s warding was strong, there was no way he could see past it. Not without breaking through it. Some wards were right out there for anyone to see – a blatant sign of there’s something here, only you can’t see inside to find it. That happened when a room was warded. Those were easy to detect if one was looking; all they had to do was look at the building and they’d see the blank spot in the midst of everything else, showing them exactly which room was warded.

However, in a spot like this it wasn’t quite as easy. Because there was nothing to see here, nothing that showed any signs of needing warded, so there was no way for Magnus to see the blank spot amidst everything else.

So, the first thing he did was a scan for any sort of magical signature, any kind of residue left behind from a spell or a ward or anything like that. Doing that was kind of like closing his eyes and then opening them up once more to the magic of the world around him. With the right concentration, Magnus could practically see the aura of magic left behind on something – a skill which was not common, and not something he advertised.

With how hard it’d been to find this place, Magnus was almost positive whoever or whatever was hiding here would be smart enough to keep hidden, to not leave any blatant signs that they were there.

Which meant it was a surprise when Magnus opened his eyes and saw a large patch of cliff that was practically saturated in young, slightly damaged looking magic. It wasn’t the bright blues and blacks of protective magic, nor the darker oranges and reds of defensive magic.

This was none of those. It carried some white to it – the sign of angelic magics, runes from the nephilim. But it also carried broken threads of other magics. Sickly orange, red like blood that dripped down the rocks and seeped into the earth, and patches of bluish-black like bruises.

The warlocks who’d put up the wards here hadn’t done so willingly. Nor had they survived beyond it. Magnus felt his stomach churn as he felt the rage, the pain, the fear that infused every inch of the wards. He could feel the unwilling death-magic that had been used to protect whatever was hiding in here.

A furious snarl built in Magnus’ throat. This was Valentine. It had to be Valentine. No one else Magnus had ever met in all his years on this earth had ever committed the kind of atrocities this man so easily did. Nor was there anyone else Magnus knew that would be able to compel any magical being into committing suicide just to strengthen wards.

Rage was like a living, breathing thing inside of Magnus’ chest.

What was so important that Valentine had to guard it this much? There was no way this was where he was staying. Magnus had no doubt he wouldn’t have been able to get this close if it were. But, if it was…

Though it wasn't easy, it'd been a long time since Magnus had been young and impulsive enough to face down something like this alone. Maybe he would have tried, or at least stolen a small peek, back before the war. Before he'd lost too many friends, too many of his people who were convinced they could stand up to a ridiculous shadowhunter with delusions of grandeur.

Now he knew better. Though he hated it, he retreated a safe distance away and sent off messages to two he trusted more than any others. A quick explanation of what he'd found, a small flame, and the messages were off. 

It didn't even take a full minute before the first portal opened. Magnus cast a quick spell to act like an umbrella above them so that the area was mostly dry when Ragnor Fell came through the portal.

Magnus wasn’t surprised it was Ragnor who arrived first. Though his lips twitched in the first smile in hours when he caught sight of his friend's long nightshirt peeking out of his dressing gown. A look down showed that he was still wearing his slippers.

“What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?” Ragnor demanded the instant he caught sight of Magnus.

The urge to smile grew stronger. Magnus let it curve his lips, and dispel a bit of his tension as he did. “I thought my letter was pretty clear.” He let his eyes run down Ragnor’s body and then back up to his friend’s disgruntled face. “Though let me say that I’m complimented to know you rushed so quickly to my defense, mon petit chou.”

Ragnor’s scowl deepened the same way it did any time Magnus used that nickname. He didn’t bother looking at himself as he gave a wave that quickly changed his sleep clothes for a pair slacks, shirt, vest, jacket, and tall boots. He even conjured an ascot, which was definitely done to spite Magnus, who had never been a fan of that ridiculous puff of cloth.

“Found magic danger caves, going exploring, does not actually tell me much of anything,” Ragnor said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

Magnus gave a lazy shrug. “I thought it did.”

Another portal opened up on the other side of them, and the second person Magnus had sent for came walking through.

Catarina Loss came much more prepared than Ragnor. Though Magnus had sent her the exact same message, she’d clearly kept calmer than Ragnor had and taken a moment to prepare. Her clothes were casual jeans and t-shirt, with a warm jacket over it all, but Magnus could tell they’d be easy to move in. She also had a bag strapped crossways over her that Magnus could easily guess was filled with spells, potions, and little bits and pieces they might need.

Grinning Magnus gestured toward her as Catarina closed her portal. “See? Catarina came prepared. She didn’t show up in her pajamas.”

“You showed up in your pajamas?” Catarina asked, her face lit up with amusement.

Dark green faintly colored the lighter green of Ragnor’s cheekbones. “Can we focus on what’s important here? I assume there is something important in these magic danger caves you’ve found, yes?”

As much fun as it would be to continue bickering with his friends, the reason Magnus had called them here was an important one, and the longer they stood here the more time they wasted. Plus the higher the risk that someone might find them.

“I created a new tracking spell to try and follow the traces of that magic everyone’s been feeling lately…” Magnus began. In quick, short words, he summed up what he’d found.

When he was done, the other two had lost any signs of teasing as well. Their expressions were just as pained and just as serious as Magnus felt. To know that whatever was up ahead had been put there with the reluctant lives of warlocks that they may or may not have known was a sobering thought.

“I’m glad you called on us,” Catarina said.

Ragnor nodded his agreement. “Whatever’s in there is going to be dangerous. There’s no doubt about that.” He fixed Magnus with a glower that held no real heat to it. “At least you’ve come to recognize when it’s best to call in backup.”

Neither one of them tried to talk Magnus out of what they all knew they had to do. They couldn’t just walk away form this. Whatever was here, it was connected to Valentine. That alone was reason enough to check it out. Add in the original reason Magnus had come out here, the powerful magic that might be hiding behind those death-wards, only made it all the more important.

Much as Magnus didn’t want to put his friends at risk, better to have them with him than try and go in alone and end up dead. Or to bring along warlocks he didn’t know or trust as well as he did these two.

Together, the three made their way back to the spot at the cliffside where Magnus ahd felt the magic. Neither Catarina nor Ragnor had the ability to read the energies the way that Magnus did. That was fine, though. He didn’t need them for that part of things.

Magnus pressed his boots firmly down into the sand until he was as grounded as he was going to get. His friends took up post on either side of him – Ragnor on his left and Catarina on his right. They’d worked together often enough over the centuries, it was easy now for them to link their magic together as they both put a hand on either of his shoulders.

In that touch, Magnus felt the rush of their magic joining to his, further anchoring him. True cooperative magic was unlike anything else out there. When people knew each other as well as these three did, it was as easy as clasping hands. Magic to magic, each one fueling the other in a ring of power – one that Magnus stayed in control of. He placed himself at the forefront to not only direct the magic but to take the brunt of any backlash that came their way. Like this, he wouldn’t have to burn himself down trying to do this, meaning that they’d all be ready for battle once it was done.

Magnus breathed deep and called the magic up to his hands. “Ready?”

“Do it,” Catarina answered simply.

And Magnus did.

He called up the magic between them and reached out with it, weaving strand after strand into razor-sharp blades – four of them. One for each directional point. It was the safest and strongest way to break down any wards. Especially if one didn’t know where the nodes were.

Magnus built those blades, spun them tight with all their magic, and then he braced his heels into the ground and his body against his friends, and he sent those blades flying.

He’d expected a backlash from the wards as they were broken from their anchors. Magnus had braced himself for it and prepared to fight back.

What he hadn’t prepared for was the release of magic that came screaming out as soon as the wards were down.

It came tearing out, bursting into the air now that the prison holding it back was gone. A giant shockwave of it came flying at them. Just barely did Magnus have time brace his feet and throw up a shield around the three of them.

Even with the shield in place they all still felt it. The shield only kept them from being blasted away by the power of that magic. It didn’t stop them from feeling it, from hearing it, as it screamed into the air around them.

“Merciless Lilith,” Catarina whispered.

Magic throbbed in the air like an open, aching wound. The presence they’d all been feeling lately, the fear that had chased down their spines, was suddenly so much more pronounced. Magnus shuddered under it – and under the realization that it wasn’t their fear they’d all been feeling in response to this stronger magic, it was the magic casting fear at them.

Whatever was doing this, whatever being or magic was in the cave now visible up ahead, it was terrified and in pain.

As soon as Magnus recovered, he was moving without even stopping to think. There was no other decision to be made here. Magnus could feel that fear, the pain, and he responded in an instant to help.

Ragnor and Catarina didn’t try and stop him. They fell into step easily with him, the three of them racing straight for the cliffs.

A bit of magic gave them all the boost they needed to hop up to the cave’s entrance. They landed amid a crowd of clearly panicking shadowhunters – all of whom bore the bright red circle emblazoned on their necks.

“Well now, look what we found here,” Ragnor said, grinning as he did.

Someone deep inside the cave let out a shout, and another one echoed it.

The blast of magic Catarina let loose sent the few Circle members in front of them flying backward. She strode forward, her hands wreathed in magic and a familiar staff in hand. “I hope you two don’t plan on standing there all night,” she said as she passed them.

“And let you have all the fun?” Magnus asked. He drew magic into his hands and strode forward after her, grinning as he heard Ragnor follow alongside him.

The Circle members waiting there stood no chance against them. Though the amount of them that kept pouring out of the depths of the cave left Magnus wondering what the hell it was they were guarding at its center. He took out nephilim after nephilim until there was a trail of bodies behind him. Yet the caves seemed to go on, and the Circle members kept coming.

Dim light from torches lit the walls along the way. Yet as they rounded a corner, Magnus caught sight of more light up ahead.

He opened his mouth to say something, slicing away a shadowhunter as he did, when a sudden shout echoed down toward them, followed by a roar of pain and fury shook the air in another concussive wave of magic. One that any being with magic would’ve been able to feel.

“Go!” Ragnor snapped at him, using his magic to take down three shadowhunters that were advancing on them. “Go figure out whatever the hell that is so we can get out of here.”

The two moved together just as Magnus stepped away, guarding each other in his absence.

Magnus looked ahead of him and did a quick mental calculation. Then he gathered his magic between his hands, pulling it from himself and from the earth. He drew it up, and then with a sharp cry in the language of demons, he thrust that power down and into the earth.

It shot forward like a blade slicing a path through the stone ground, sending slashing blasts of air, earth, and magic out of either side like a V. It sent the shadowhunters flying into the walls, taking out a lot of them, and it opened up a path for Magnus to go tearing down, running as fast as his feet could carry him toward the source of that light.

And the source of the magic.

Magnus’ mind had conjured up countless different scenarios for what he might find at the center of these caves. A raw, natural magic, perhaps some sort of node that Valentine was hoping to tap into. Or a warlock who’d somehow miraculously survived one of Valentine’s famous experiments. Someone that Magnus knew he might have to put down, as he’d put down plenty of others who had begged him to set them free from what Valentine had done.

What he never expected to find was a massive chamber large enough to fit his apartment building inside of, with a powerful containment circle carved into the stone and packed shut with magic, blood, death, and runes – all to contain something the size of a dog held down by chains in the very center. Most of the shape was covered by thick silver chains that looked to be made of adamas. They crisscrossed over the figure until there was little left to show underneath but white.

One of the Circle members close to that figure moved forward, snarling out a sharp “Be quiet!” as they lashed out with what looked to be a silver whip.

The whip struck, and a furious growl echoed in the room even as another scream of magic called out the pain the being wasn’t allowing itself to feel.

If Magnus had felt rage before, it was nothing compared to what he felt then. The whip rose again and Magnus didn’t hesitate to lash out with a wave of fire. He didn’t care about incapacitating them or knocking them out. In a rare release of control, Magnus let his raw magic flash out in fire, burning down the ones who dared to touch this being that couldn’t fight back to protect itself.

Magnus barely paid any attention to the screams or the scorch marks he left behind. He ran to the edge of the protective circle, pausing only long enough to assess whether or not the circle would trap him.

When he saw how it’d been done, he growled. “I don’t think so.”

Even after the magic he’d used so far, there was still a well of it deep inside Magnus – his strength was so much more than he’d ever let anyone see. Reaching deep, he called up the magic in the very stones around him, using it to push up, up, until it split the stone around him, tearing its way through the circle in multiple different places. In doing so, it shattered the protections, and the magic they’d been feeling before grew even heavier.

Magnus could feel it, thick in the air now that he’d released the barrier that had been trying – and failing – to hold it back. Soon enough that magic would’ve broken through on its own. It already had been, eroding away at the protections. But now Magnus had set it free.

What he found, what he felt, was the kind of raw power unlike anything he’d ever encountered on earth. The closest he could come to it was the feeling he got deep in the depths of the Seelie Glades, where the very air felt like magic, and the springs were soaked in it. It was a sacred place for the seelies. A place of power. Magnus had only been there once in all his years.

This was like that, and yet… more. So much more.

The sounds of the battle faded away for Magnus as he straightened up and looked in toward the figure still held tightly in the center of the circle. Breaking the protections had been enough to set some of its magics free. But not even that was enough to break through the chains that held it – whatever it was.

Slowly, carefully, Magnus walked towards the figure, angling himself so that he headed toward what looked to be the front. He wasn’t quite sure, but the chains seemed thicker there, and… was that a muzzle of some sort?

“Peace,” Magnus called out, low and easy. He took another few steps forward. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m going to come close, but I just want to see those chains.”

The closer he got, the clearer he was able to make out some of what was underneath those chains. More than just flashes of white. Whatever this being was, they were made up of white, yes, but Magnus realized that some of the silver he was seeing wasn’t just the clearly adamas chains. It was also part of this being. Hard, silver plates over… white scales.

Mother of magic. Magnus froze a few feet away as the figure shifted, and more of them became visible beyond the chains, beyond what he’d thought was some sort of thick blanket pinning them down. That wasn’t a blanket – it was a wing.

A dragon wing.

The realization struck Magnus hard. The wing, the scales, the raw, powerful magic, the amount of warding they’d put up in here, the adamas chains that he could now see were marked with magic and runes both. All of it was because of this. Because Valentine had a dragon prisoner. Chained down so that he could do Lilith-knew-what to them.

Magnus stumbled forward that last bit of distance between him and the dragon. He dropped down to his knees right beside what was clearly the dragon’s head. It was held in what he could now clearly see was a muzzle. One that was held down by a chain attached to multiple hooks in the ground. The muzzle kept its jaws shut, and came up as a mask over its face and eyes. The poor thing wasn’t even granted sight.

Soft, pained words slipped past Magnus’ lips, spoken low and in the language of his mother’s people.

“You poor thing,” he murmured in English. “What has he done to you?”

The dragon shifted, their wings rattling their chains, and they twitched like they were trying to turn their head toward him, only they couldn’t. Another blast of pain echoed through the magic in the room.

Magnus immediately reached a hand out and hovered it over the adamas, wanting to touch and soothe. Offer some kind of physical comfort. But he didn’t dare touch them, and he couldn’t touch the adamas. Not without hurting himself at least a little.

That only left him with words. And words were something Magnus was good at. “I know you’re scared, little one. I’m so sorry. Just stay still for me and give me a moment. I’m going to try and get you free.”

The dragon snarled, and small bits of smoke curled from their nostrils.

“I don’t blame you for not believing me,” Magnus reassured them. “I don’t imagine you’ve been well treated here. But you have my word, on my magic, I only want to help you.”

Even as Magnus spoke, he looked over the chains, trying to figure out the best way to do this. Getting free from chains like this wasn’t easy. It was almost impossible if you were the one being held by them. But from the outside – he and the other warlocks had studied them plenty after the War. When Valentine and his people had used them so frequently, they’d had to learn how to break through them or risk losing far more of their people.

These chains were similar enough that Magnus hoped they’d work at least somewhat the same.

Drawing in a deep breath, he dared to move his hand away from the muzzle and toward a bit of white scales peeking out at the dragon’s neck. His touch caused them to jump, rattling the chains all over again, and though the snarl they let out was furious, the magic in the air trembled with rage and fear.

Magnus kept his hand pressed flat where it was. “I’m going to try and break through the chains. They’re similar to some I’ve seen, so I’m hoping that they’ll work the same to get out of. But it’s not a pleasant feeling. If these are anything like warlock chains, you’re going to feel an uncomfortable press on your magic, and I’m so sorry about that, my dear. So very sorry.”

The dragon tensed. Then, in a move Magnus hadn’t quite expected, they seemed to settle a little, their magic going still. It was as if the magic in the room was holding its breath.

Magnus pressed in a little more against the scales that felt surprisingly cool. “I’ll try and make this quick,” he promised gently. Then, there was no point in wasting anymore time. Magnus gathered himself, took a deep breath, and he reached his other hand out to clash the chain where it hooked to the ground.

Pain burned its way into Magnus’ palm. He felt the skin burn and blister and grit his teeth against it.

Magic pressed against magic as he sought to travel along the chains, seeking out the same chink they’d found in the warlock chains, praying the whole time he did that it would be there, that he would find it.

He ignored it as his palm continued to burn, and the dragon went tense under his other hand. The chains were fighting the use of magic to try and break them free. They were tightening on the poor dragon, who bore it all in silence, holding themselves tight and waiting, waiting for Magnus to either prove himself a man of his word or a liar.

For a moment Magnus wasn’t sure which one he was going to end up being. Would he be able to do this? What if he didn’t find that spot? What if he couldn’t get them free?

Then suddenly it was there, right there in front of him. Magnus let out a sound of triumph as he shoved his magic into that little crack and felt the power in the chains shatter.

No sooner had the magic gone out of them than the dragon was moving. They shoved up so fast they sent Magnus tumbling backward. He landed hard on his back on the ground, yet he could only lay there and stare in awe as the dragon flexed their body and tore of the chains like they were breaking through wet tissue. Those chains fell away and the dragon rose up, their body shifting and growing right there in front of Magnus’ eyes, until they were the size of a cow, a horse, a trailer, a semi, a house, higher and higher until Magnus was sure they were going to break through the cave itself to keep on growing.

White wings edged in silver spread out on either side of the dragon. They let out a roar that shook the stones around them.

Yet still, Magnus stared up in awe at the sheer beauty, the majesty, of this amazing being. A long, powerful body, slender from snout to tail-tip, with what looked to be feathers or fur of some kind at their joints and from the crown of their head down their back and to the tip of their tail. Two long, straight horns came back from their temples to point behind their head.

The dragon roared again, sending stones crashing down around them and they bent their head to blow a stream of white and blue fire at the shadowhunters Magnus hadn’t even noticed coming toward them.

In the next instant, the fire was gone and the dragon turned toward him. Magnus only had a moment to blink and then suddenly the dragon was over him, so much smaller than they had been, down to the size of a large horse now. Still large enough to crush him. And yet, Magnus felt no fear when the dragon stood over him and stared down at him with icy blue eyes.

The dragon bent forward, expression set in a glare, and Magnus held still as icy breath puffed against his face.

Those blue eyes held his, watching him, reading down into him in a way that left Magnus feeling like everything he was had been laid bare. Not once did the dragon blink. They stared at him and waited, watching, until suddenly they bent in and Magnus felt that icy breath just moments before the dragon’s snout touched his chest.

Magic burst to life in Magnus. His body arched up as raw, unfiltered magic came pouring down into him, washing through his body, his veins. It was a strength unlike anything he’d ever known, only it didn’t burn like the power of Edom did when he reached for her. This was cool, a winter breeze to ease the desert pains of Edom. It chased down all those burnt spots, all the aching and empty places inside him, and filled them with coolness and light.

Warlock, it seemed to whisper to him. No, they, them, him. His dragon. The magic seemed to give a happy rumble that Magnus felt down in his bones. My warlock.

Their magic twined together with an ease that Magnus had never felt before. Not even in the cooperative magic he’d performed with his friends earlier. Their magic wasn’t merging. It was simply twisting around one another, filling in the empty gaps of each other in whispers of joy.

Slowly but surely the magic drew back, and Magnus would’ve clasped at it, would’ve held on tight, but a piece of it stayed behind inside of him. Something cool in the burning depths of his soul, sheltering him in safety and comfort and the promise of protection, of companionship.

I’ll never leave you alone, that voice promised him. You’re mine now.

Magnus opened his eyes and found himself staring into the cool blue eyes of the dragon who was now twined so deeply inside of him there was no way he was ever going to get him free. Not that he wanted to. Parts of Magnus that had felt empty now finally felt whole. Like there’d been places inside of him just waiting all these years to be filled by this beautiful dragon above him.

The dragon gave a soft rumble that was almost a purr. They nosed at him again, another jolt of coolness over his chest. Alec, they rumbled at him. I’m Alec. And you’re mine, Rider.

“Magnus!”

The familiar voice had the two responding in an instant. Magnus knew that voice and didn’t panic, but he felt as his dragon did. Immediately Alec was standing protectively over him, growling furiously into the distance.

Magnus moved quickly as soon as his brain cleared enough for him to realize what was going on. “No!” Using the hand he already had on Alec’s neck – when had he put that there? – he pulled himself up on surprisingly steady legs. Even so, he clung to Alec’s neck while he looked over to where his two friends stood nearby. One hand tangled in that feather/fur mix on the back of Alec’s neck. “No, wait, those are my friends! They’re safe!”

Catarina and Ragnor stood by the wall and were both staring at him in stunned shock.

It was Catarina who voiced what was so clearly on their minds. “Magnus – what have you done?”

Another rumble in the caves cut off whatever Magnus might’ve said. Only this time, that rumble wasn’t because of Alec or his magic.

That last blast of Alec’s magic releasing from the circle must’ve really done some damage. Though Magnus could feel how Alec had himself contained now, though a bit shakily, it was too late. They’d done too much, put out too much power and taken too much away. The caves were going to come down. Magnus could feel it as he looked around him, and he swore under his breath. “I’ll explain later – we need to get out of here, now!”

Pulling open a portal was the quickest way out of there. Magnus turned to Alec to try and figure out something for getting a dragon this size through the portal, only to find that Alec was already solving the problem. They – he – shrank down to the size of a housecat, leaping up onto Magnus’ shoulder as he did. There was no time for Magnus to marvel over it again. The caves gave another rumble, and it was either leave or be crushed in the rocks that were beginning to fall.

Magnus pushed his friends forward, and then he leapt.

The four of them came crashing out the other side of the portal into Magnus’ loft. In an instant, Magnus banished the portal and then reached out to the protections he kept ready around his home, grabbing hold of them and yanking them up high and tight. No one was going to get in nor sense anything. Not while he had the body of a miniature dragon draped over his neck like some scarf.

When Magnus let go of his wards, satisfied that they’d be protected for now, he blinked his eyes clear of them only to find his two friends standing there in front of him. Catarina had her hands on her hips while Ragnor had his crossed over his chest. Both of them were giving him stern looks that Magnus would never admit had him fighting back the urge to squirm a little.

“So,” Ragnor said slowly, drawing the word out just a bit. “I believe you have some explaining to do.”

Catarina was less circumspect in her words. She shook her head and bluntly demanded “What the hell did you do, Magnus?”

“In my defense…” Magnus began, only to get cut off by a snort from Ragnor. He shot his friend a glare. “In my defense, it wasn’t exactly something I planned. Nor my choice, really.”

He’d hoped to diffuse their anger a bit, or at least draw it off of him some. What he hadn’t intended was for them to turn that anger toward Alec. Two sets of eyes snapped toward the small dragon who had moved off of Magnus’ neck and was now perched on his shoulder. Magnus snuck a look from the corner of his eye and caught a deep-set scowl on that bright face.

They can’t take you away from me. Alec’s voice rumbled through Magnus’ mind, low and deep and just a bit frosty at the edges. The cooling breeze of his power grew a little icier. You’re MY Rider. Mine!

Those words were accompanied by a swell of protectiveness and possessiveness that probably shouldn’t have thrilled Magnus as much as it did. He should’ve been panicking at it. A dragon he’d never met – a dragon! – had done something to him with magic, tied them together, and laid a clear claim on him like Magnus was some sort of possession.

Ragnor let out a heavy sigh. He reached up with one hand to rub at the base of his horns the same way he always did whenever he was stressed. “I have a feeling we’re going to need lots of alcohol for this.”

“And that’s why you’re one of my favorites,” Magnus said, pointing at him.

It made Catarina snort. “Good to know where we stand, then.”

A snap of the fingers conjured up drinks for all of them. Normally Magnus liked to make drinks by hand. They tasted better that way. However, there were more important things to deal with at that moment. Like the pissed off little sentinel standing on his shoulder.

Magnus opted to take them to the nearby kitchen table simply because it was made of glass and metal and would likely stand up against any accidental fire damage better than the rest of his furniture would. Not that he thought it was going to be a problem. Or, at least, he hoped it wasn’t going to be problem. He’d very much like to get through this without someone getting hurt.

A soft huff echoed in his mind. I won’t eat your friends. Or burn down your home. Not unless they try and cage me. A heavy shudder shook through their connection, though none of it showed on the outside. Magnus felt the pain from Alec, the fear of being caged up again, locked away in chains that burned at him each time his magic tried to break free, yet he couldn’t stop trying. Couldn’t stop his magic from lashing out to try and free him from his prison each time they came to him and plucked another scale, drew another vial of blood.

Magnus choked a little as he was briefly caught under flickering memories that weren’t his own. He could feel the metal burning his scales, feel the pain as they were ripped away. The fear as magic was used to deactivate the spell around his muzzle and he was let free, starved and furious, while people were shoved inside his circle, the scent of their meat rotten and terrified…

The memories cut off with a sharp snap that left Magnus gasping.

He heard his friends calling his name, concern heavy in them, and he became aware that he’d bent forward and was gripping at the edge of the table. Magic swirled around his hands.

In his mind came the soft breeze of Alec’s voice, whisper soft. I’m sorry. The little dragon drew back with those words, as if he were going to step away from Magnus. Hide. Shame curled around his words before they, too, were shut down, the bond between them pulled closed at Alec’s end.

Magnus knew he should respond to someone. Anyone. Yet all he could do was sit there in horror at what had been done to his dragon.

This wasn’t the first time Magnus had saved someone from Valentine’s experimentations. Nor was it the first time he’d done so with Ragnor and Catarina at his side. He knew well the kinds of horrors this man had committed. What he’d done to people and beings who had never done anything to him. It was enough to make anyone feel sick. Yet none of them had hit as hard as this.

“Magnus!”

Reality crashed back in with the sharp sound of his name, and a firm hand on his shoulder.

When Magnus blinked his eyes clear he found that Ragnor had moved closer, and Catarina was squatting down beside him, one hand on his back and the other covering one of his on the table’s edge. They were both watching him with clear worry.

“I’m okay.” The words felt shaky, yet they came out steadier than he’d thought.

Catarina gave him a look that made it clear how little she believed that. “What’s going on, Magnus?”

That was her tone that meant she was done playing games. Catarina was in full healer-mode. When she got like that, she wasn’t in the mood to play any games or take any of his shit. She’d get her answers, whether he liked it or not, and she wouldn’t be afraid to push until she did.

Magnus drew in a breath and blew it back out. “I’m pretty sure I’ve… I’ve been bonded by a dragon.”

The words were enough to stun the room into silence.

Though dragons were long thought to be extinct, there were some scholars who held the belief that a few of them still hid out here and there in the world. Hiding out to keep themselves safe. Stories and legends were what most had to go by to tell them about a time when dragons had been more prevalent. When they had ruled the skies, and walked the lands, and shared space with everyone. Those stories spoke of peaceful times, back before wars and before it became a sport to hunt those beautiful beings.

The stories also spoke of bonds. Magical ties that connected a dragon to someone they referred to as their Rider – someone who they shared their life with. Their power. In those stories, the pairs were rare. It wasn’t often a dragon found their Rider and was able to bond with them. As it was in all great stories, such a thing usually happened when there was some big event in the world, something that people needed defended from. A great evil that needed fought. Then, a dragon and a warlock would bond, the two compatible because of their magics, and together they would fight the evil with the kind of power few could ever dream of.

And Valentine had had himself a dragon. Magnus had no doubt that Alec had suffered under Valentine’s hand, tortured and used for bits and parts, but he also knew, deep down in his bones, that Valentine no doubt knew about those legends, too.

The thought of Valentine bonding a dragon – bonding this dragon – had Magnus once more fighting back the urge to empty his stomach.

A pained trilling sound came from off to the right. Magnus turned toward it instinctively, only to find that Alec had moved. Something that Magnus should’ve realized earlier when his friends started touching him. Instead of being perched on Magnus’ shoulder, the little dragon was on the top of a nearby shelf, body tucked in small and those bright eyes focused right on him. The bond was still tightly closed so Magnus couldn’t read anything.

It didn’t take a bond to see his fear, though.

“Oh, Alec,” he breathed out.

Catarina’s hand tightened on his when he went to lift it from the table. When Magnus looked down, he found her watching him with her brows drawn down and her lips pressed into a firm line. Worry painted every inch of her face.

She didn’t say anything – she didn’t have to. Magnus could easily read her worry. He twisted his hand so that he could give hers a gentle squeeze. “I’m fine, my dear.” Scared, yes, and so very unsure, but also awed. This was strange and new, and maybe later he would be angry at not having a choice. But here, now, while the rush of their bonding was still so fresh, anger was far away.

“Are you sure?” Catarina asked him. There were layers to that question that most might not have heard.

Smiling softly, Magnus squeezed her hand again. “Yes.” He looked up, catching Ragnor’s gaze as well, and nodded at him, getting a faint smile and a nod in return.

Magnus pulled his hands free from Catarina and the table, and he held them up Alec’s way. Through their bond he sent a soft Come here, darling that, for a moment, he wasn’t sure would work. Alec didn’t seem inclined to leave his post. Not that Magnus could blame him. He knew none of them, and from what glimpses Magnus had gotten, life hadn’t treated him well. Nor had warlocks. At Valentine’s command, yes, but still. Was it any wonder he held a distrust for other beings with magic?

For a long minute the room was quiet. Magnus stayed where he was, hands up, and watched as Alec inched forward, eyes scanning around him.

Testing a theory, Magnus pushed a little at the bond, trying to gather together the care and protectiveness he felt in that moment. He knew it worked when he saw Alec stumble a little, saw his head snap up and those bright eyes went laser sharp on Magnus. The bond opened back up a little, just enough for Magnus to feel some of Alec’s fear, and some of his hope.

Come here, Magnus repeated.

This time, Alec came.

He leapt from the shelf and spread his wings. Magnus felt the ache that flared to life in the bond as the little dragon glided down to him. It had him curling his arms in around Alec the instant the dragon landed. Scales tugged at Magnus’ shirt, snagging here and there. With just a thought he changed his shirt into something a bit sturdier that could stand up against dragon scales.

Magnus drew Alec in close against his chest. This tiny little dragon who could grow bigger than a house and who had destroyed the shadowhunters who’d held him without an ounce of regret. Who had laid in the middle of that stone floor held down by chains and yet still growled at the ones who dared get too close. Who was so powerful his magic had pushed its way through a protective circle, through wards meant to hide him from the world, and had then spread his fear to everyone who could feel it, just begging for someone to come set him free.

The ramifications of this were something Magnus could think about later. What it meant to be bonded to a dragon, how it’d been done without his asking. The idea of what might be coming their way, what it meant to have found proof of Valentine’s existence brewing in that cave, what the man might’ve done with what he’d taken from Alec. All of those thoughts would come later.

Right then, in that one moment of quiet, Magnus cradled his dragon to his chest and let himself think of nothing other than the feeling of being whole and safe. He knew with absolute certainty that whatever he faced next, he wasn’t going to do it alone.