down the path away from the temple, Magnus could tell that Ragnor was in a weakened state. He walked slowly and placed his feet carefully, as though he wasn’t sure they would reliably obey him.
After a few minutes of walking in silence, in the dark, with Magnus at least fairly sure they were headed the right way, Ragnor spoke up. “Magnus, I don’t know any way to undo the thorning. Now that the swords are gone, I don’t know how it could be drawn out of you. Or Shinyun, for that matter, not that she wants it removed. You’ll still be stuck with the choice, soon enough, to join Sammael or die.”
“Then I’ll die,” said Magnus.
“You won’t,” said Ragnor with a sigh. “No one chooses to die, when there is a choice to live. You rationalize. You justify.”
Magnus said nothing. There had been a change in the dead air of Diyu. Where before all had been stillness and oppressive silence, now a slight wind had picked up. It blew faint white noise into the silence, and unpleasantly hot air in irregular gusts around Magnus’s face. Ragnor noticed it too, his head lifting when it started, but after a moment his eyes returned to the ground and he resumed walking.
“So,” Ragnor said, “Max.” He cleared his throat. “Your son.”
“He’s named after Alec’s brother,” Magnus said. “The one who was killed by Sebastian.”
Ragnor gave him a wry look. “Did you know, Sammael showed up in the first place because he was trying to reach Valentine Morgenstern’s son, Sebastian? Lilith suggested that Sammael seek him out. Said they had similar goals. Anyway, apparently Sebastian was dead well before Sammael could have found him. That would have been interesting.”
“ ‘Interesting’ is one way to describe it,” said Magnus. He paused. “Ragnor. One thing that happened, that you probably don’t know.” He just had to say it quickly. “Raphael… he died.”
Ragnor stopped walking, and Magnus stopped beside him. All around them blew the faint, dry wind of Diyu, smelling of iron and char.
“Valentine’s son, Sebastian,” Magnus said. “He, uh, he took over Edom.”
“Oh, I know,” Ragnor said, his eyebrows raised. “I didn’t hear the end of it. You think Sammael would be here if he could be in Edom? He loves it there. But—Raphael.”
Magnus took a deep breath. “Sebastian was holding us both prisoner. He ordered Raphael to kill me. Raphael refused. Sebastian killed him.” He looked at Ragnor, who appeared to be going through all the stages of grief at once, his expression flashing rapidly stunned surprise, sorrow, anger, thoughtfulness, and back. “He was paying back his debt to me, he said. For saving his life.”
Ragnor took a long breath and collected himself. “Every war has a body count,” he said bitterly. “And if you live long enough, you’ll see too many friends become part of that body count. Poor Raphael. I always liked him.”
“He always liked you,” said Magnus.
“I get the sense,” said Ragnor after a moment of silence from both of them, the roar of the hot wind of Diyu the only sound in the world, “that it is a good thing that Sammael wasn’t able to meet Sebastian.”
“I don’t know if they would have been able to collaborate,” Magnus said. “Neither of them are exactly good team players.”
“How did you come to adopt Max?”
“It’s a long story,” said Magnus, “which I will tell you in full once we are safely out of Hell.”
“Well, tell the short version,” Ragnor said impatiently. He began walking again, and Magnus followed.
“Another warlock baby abandoned,” said Magnus flatly. “Another horrified parent. They left a note that said, ‘Who could ever love it?’ ”
Ragnor snorted. “The oldest warlock story.”
“He was left at Shadowhunter Academy,” Magnus said. “I was a guest lecturer there. We ended up going home with Max.”
“Truly,” said Ragnor, “this is the culmination of your foolish dedication to rescuing people.”
Magnus gave him an incredulous look. “You’re one to talk.”
“Not that I’m not grateful,” Ragnor allowed.
“That’s not what I mean,” Magnus said. “I don’t mean now. I mean you’re one to talk because all those hundreds of years ago, you rescued me. You idiot.”
The wind was picking up and, worryingly, growing hotter. They walked along the darkened streets, past empty black shells of buildings Magnus couldn’t have identified—presumably, they corresponded to buildings in Shanghai, but here they resided in complete shadow and could barely be distinguished from the landscape around them.
Ragnor said gruffly, “Well, at least that’s one more warlock who will grow up with loving parents. Who