The Lost Book of the White (The Eldest Curses #2) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,108

harm’s way. It was easy to assume that they would find some solution for Magnus, some way to draw the thorn out of him, some loophole in the magic. But Simon was right: Sometimes things went bad. Sometimes there was suffering. Sometimes there was death. It was too late for Ragnor, for Shinyun, but what about Magnus?

Tian said, “May I see your sword?”

Alec shrugged and drew Black Impermanence. He handed it to Tian, who held the two swords next to one another and examined them.

“Do you know what it is you’re wielding?” he said to both of them.

Alec thought. “Gan Jiang and Mo Ye… they said they weren’t swords—they were gods.”

“They’re clearly swords,” said Magnus. “Alec has been cutting through demons with his all day.”

“They also said they were keys,” said Alec.

Tian rolled his eyes. “They like being cryptic, Gan Jiang and Mo Ye. I guess they think it’s their prerogative, given their age. I don’t know what it means that they’re keys,” he admitted. “But they are gods. I meant to talk to you about it before…” He trailed off, not saying, before Sammael revealed that I was working for him. “But if we’re heading toward a confrontation… you should know something of what they are. They may be our strongest weapon in this place.”

“Maybe this is a stupid question,” said Alec, “but if they’re swords, how are they also gods?”

“The Heibai Wuchang,” said Tian, “were a god in black, and a god in white, and long ago, they were responsible for escorting the spirits of the dead to Diyu. There are hundreds of stories about them, from all over China, but they are from long before the Nephilim, so we have no idea which, if any, are true.”

“All the stories are true,” Alec murmured to himself, and Magnus heard and quirked his mouth in a small smile.

“The faeries say that the Heibai Wuchang grew tired of being constantly bothered by mortals, who sought them out to ask for their wishes to be granted, and they retreated into these swords.” Tian shook his head. “I don’t know what it means that we have brought them back to their original home in Diyu, but if the smiths thought it was wisdom to do so, they must have had a reason.”

“Maybe they thought the swords could hurt Sammael?” Alec suggested.

“Maybe they unlock a door and then we kick Sammael through it?” Magnus offered.

Tian said, “I don’t know. I just thought that you should know what it is you’re wielding. Who you’re wielding.” He held up the black sword and handed it back to Alec. “Fan Wujiu. Meaning: there is no salvation for evildoers.” He handed the white sword to Magnus. “Xie Bi’an: be at peace, all those who atone.”

“Some disagreement between the two of them, I see,” Magnus said.

But Tian shook his head. “I don’t think so. In some stories they are referred to as one being. Whatever they are, they are supposed to be in balance with one another.”

“Aw, just like us,” Magnus said, winking at Alec.

Alec did think of himself and Magnus as in balance, at least under normal circumstances. But was that still true? The thorn had invaded Magnus’s body, had thrust him in the direction of its will—of Sammael’s will, Alec reminded himself. Magnus was still Magnus, of course, but he was changing, and they didn’t know of any way to change him back.

Alec strapped Black Impermanence—Fan Wujiu—back on and said to Tian, “Thanks. Now I’m prepared just in case my sword suddenly turns into a dude.”

Tian said, “You never know.” He looked out on the open space of the cathedral stretching behind them. “We should get some rest. This may be our only chance for it before we have to go back to the fight.”

“There aren’t going to be a lot of comfortable places here for shut-eye,” said Magnus.

Tian said scornfully, “We’re Shadowhunters. We can manage to rest even in the depths of Hell.”

He made his way down the steps and disappeared deeper into the church. Alec turned to Magnus and said, “Shall we find a place to sleep too?”

“Let’s,” said Magnus, a small gleam in his eye.

* * *

THE OTHERS HAD GONE TO the far ends of the cathedral’s main floor, it seemed, so Magnus directed Alec downstairs, into the vaults. Magnus lit a globe of light to guide them down the stone steps and into a small room off the hallway that extended the length of the building. The globe of light was bright