“Can I talk to you, Jules?”
Julian turned, still holding Emma’s hand; it was Mark. The gold light of the sun made his golden eye shine brighter; Julian knew he was still mourning Kieran’s loss, but at least now, on the beach with his family, he was smiling.
“No worries,” Emma said with a smile. She kissed Julian’s cheek and headed down the beach to talk to Clary, who was standing with Jace.
Mark shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Jules,” he said again. “Alec has offered me a job—helping run the Alliance—and I’m not sure whether I should take it. I feel like I should stay here and help Helen and Aline while you have your travel year so you don’t have to worry. You took care of everything for so long. I should be taking care of things now.”
Julian felt a rush of love for his brother—if there had ever been any jealousy, it was gone. He was only glad to have Mark back.
He put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Take the job,” he said.
Mark looked surprised. “Take it?”
“You don’t need to worry. Things aren’t the way they were anymore,” Julian said, and for the first time, as he said the words aloud to his brother, he truly believed them. “In the past, I had to take care of things because there was no one else who could do it. But now Helen and Aline are home. They want to take care of the Institute, the kids—it’s all they wanted for years.” He dropped his voice. “You’ve always been part of two worlds. Faerie and Nephilim. This sounds like a way you can make having both a strength. So do it. I want you to be happy.”
Mark pulled him into a fierce hug. Julian held his brother, with the tide crashing over both their feet, held him as tightly as he had imagined clinging to him during all the years he was away.
“Mark! Mark!”
The brothers drew away from each other; Julian turned in surprise to see Cristina racing toward them along the beach, zigzagging between the startled partygoers. Her cheeks were bright red with excitement.
She reached them and seized hold of Mark’s hand.
“Mark, mira,” she said, her voice rising with excitement. “Look!”
Julian craned his head back—everyone was, the whole party transfixed by the sight of a Faerie horse circling over them. A white horse with scarlet eyes, two gold hooves and two silver. It was Windspear, and Kieran was on his back.
The sun was setting in a final blaze as Windspear landed on the beach, sand puffing up around his hooves. Max yelled in delight at the sight of the pony, and Magnus grabbed him back hastily as Kieran leaped down from the horse’s back. He was all in dark blue, the sort of elaborate costume Julian could only barely begin to understand—there was definitely velvet and silk involved, and some kind of dark blue leather, and rings on all his fingers, and his hair, too, was dark blue. He looked ethereal and startling and a little bit alien.
He looked like a King of Faerie.
His eyes roved restlessly around the group of partygoers and locked in on Mark and Cristina. Slowly, Kieran began to smile.
“Remember,” Mark said, his hand in Cristina’s, whispering in a voice so low Julian wondered if he was supposed to hear it at all. “Remember that all of this is real.”
He and Cristina began to run. Windspear took off into the air, circling happily overhead. Julian saw Emma, standing near the chocolate fountain, clasp her hands together in delight as Mark, Kieran, and Cristina threw themselves into each other’s arms.
* * *
“So,” Alec said. He and Magnus had found shelter in the lee of a large rock, its surface worn to a granular texture by years of salt and wind. Magnus, leaning against it, looked young in a way that made Alec’s heart break with a mixture of love and nostalgia. “Since I’m the Consul now, I guess I make the rules.”
Magnus raised an eyebrow. In the distance, Alec could hear the sounds of the party: people laughing, music, Isabelle calling to Max and Rafe. She’d been put in charge of watching them while Alec and Magnus took a moment to themselves. Alec knew that by the time they got back, both kids would be covered in glittery eyeliner, but some sacrifices were worth the makeup remover.
“Was that flirting?” Magnus said. “Because I have to tell you I’m more in than I thought I would be.”
“Yes,” said Alec. He paused. “No. A little bit.” He laid a hand over Magnus’s heart, and Magnus looked at him with thoughtful green-gold eyes, as if sensing that Alec was serious. “I mean I make all the rules. I’m in charge now.”
“I told you already I was in,” Magnus said.
Alec slid his hand up to cup his boyfriend’s jaw. There was light stubble on Magnus’s skin, which Alec always loved. It made him think of the way Magnus looked when he first woke up, before the rest of the world saw him, before he put on his clothes like armor, when he was just Alec’s.
“We could get married,” he said. “In warlock blue and Shadowhunter gold. The way we always wanted.”
An incredulous smile spread over Magnus’s face. “You’re really asking me . . . ?”
Alec took a deep breath and knelt down in the sand. He looked up at Magnus, watching his face go from amused to something else. Something soft and serious and tremulously vulnerable.
“I almost lost you,” Alec said. “I’ve gotten so used to thinking of you as immortal. But none of us are.” He tried to keep his hands from shaking; he was more nervous than he thought he would be. “None of us are forever. But at least I can do everything I can to let you know how much I love you with every day that we do have.” He took a deep breath. “I wish I could promise you a completely uneventful, peaceful life at my side. But I have a feeling we’ll always be surrounded by adventure and chaos.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Magnus.
“When I found you, I didn’t know what I was finding,” Alec said. “Words about things that are beautiful and precious to me don’t come easily. You know that. You know me better than anyone.” He licked his dry lips. “And when one day people look back on me and what my life meant, I don’t want them to say, ‘Alec Lightwood fought in the Dark War’ or even ‘Alec Lightwood was Consul once.’ I want them to think, ‘Alec Lightwood loved one man so much he changed the world for him.’?”
Magnus’s eyes shone bright as stars. He gazed at Alec with eyes full of joy, of a feeling so profound Alec felt humbled to be a part of it.
“You know you’ve already changed the world for me.”
“Will you marry me?” Alec whispered. His heart was beating like a frantic bird’s wings. “Right now? Tonight?”
Magnus nodded wordlessly and pulled Alec to his feet. They wrapped their arms around each other, and Alec leaned up just that little bit, since Magnus was just that little bit taller, which he had always loved.
And they kissed for a long time.
* * *
The beach was a hive of activity. The sun had gone down, but the sky still glowed an opaline blue. Simon and Jace were setting out a wooden platform on the sand, where the view of the coastline was best. Julian and Emma were lighting candles around the platform, Clary, who had changed into a blue dress, was scattering flowers, Ragnor and Catarina were arguing while plates of delicious-looking food were summoned up to weigh down the already creaking tables. Isabelle was stuffing Max and Rafe into adorable outfits trimmed in gold and blue while Max wailed and Rafe looked resigned.
Helen and Aline were helping the younger Blackthorns place their golden runes of commitment and love, faith and grace. Cristina, runed at her wrists and throat, had volunteered to help line the beach with torches. She hummed as she worked, surrounded by Shadowhunters and Downworlders laughing together. She knew there would be difficult times coming, that the Clave-in-exile would have no simple time of it. Alec would have difficult decisions in front of him; they all would. But this one moment, these preparations, felt like a moment of happiness enclosed in a bubble, safe from the harshness of reality.
“Take this.” With a smile, Kieran pressed a torch into her hand; he had set himself to work alongside all the others as if he were not the King of the Unseelie Court. In the dusk, his hair looked as black as his clothes.
“And I have more.” Mark, barefoot and starlight-haired, placed several more torches in the sand opposite Cristina’s. As they settled, they began to burn with a dim light that would soon grow stronger: they were weaving a path of fire across the beach, to the sea.
“Kieran,” Cristina said, and he glanced at her through the torches, his expression curious. She wasn’t sure if she should ask him, but she couldn’t help it. “I sent our message to Adaon ages ago and we didn’t hear anything back. Did it take you a long time to decide what to do?”