Alec looked around at the smoke drifting up to the stars and the people in the streets all talking to each other without barriers. His eyes fell on Tessa and Jem.

“Is it time to go home?” Tessa asked.

Alec bit his lip, then nodded. “I’ll text Magnus and ask him to open a Portal.”

There was an official protocol for adopting Shadowhunter children. He knew that he and Rafael would have to go back and forth from Buenos Aires several times, but this trip home would be worth it, even if it did not last long. Alec wanted to take Rafael home as soon as he could.

He was tired, and he wanted to sleep in his own bed.

“I don’t suppose you have any ideas for how I can explain all this to Magnus?” he asked Jem.

“I think you’ll find all the words you need, Alec,” said Jem.

“Thanks, that’s very helpful.”

Jem smiled. “You even found a way to make the boy who doesn’t like anybody like you. Thanks for all your help, Alec.”

Alec wished he could help more, but he knew that at least for now he had done his part. They all had to trust each other, and he did trust his friends. If there was a Herondale in danger, they could not ask for better protection than Jem and Tessa.

“I didn’t do much, but it was good to see you both. Good luck with the Herondale.”

Jem nodded. “Thank you. I think we might need it.”

The Portal was open, and shimmering.

“Bye, Jem,” said Lily.

“Oh, no nickname?” Jem sounded pleased. “Bye, Lily.”

Alec studied Rafe’s face. “Do you like me?” he asked.

Rafe beamed and shook his head, then secured his arms more tightly around Alec’s neck.

“Oh, fine, that you understand,” Alec grumbled. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

They stepped out of the Portal into the electric starriness of a New York night. Alec could see his apartment down the street, the shimmer of a witchlight behind pale blue curtains. He checked his watch: it was past Max’s bedtime. Max fought bedtime like it was a demon, so Magnus was probably reading him a fifth story or singing him a third song.

Every brown-and-white facade, every tree surrounded by wire on the cracked sidewalk, was dear to him. Alec used to think, when he was younger and felt as if he might die amid the crushing expectations and stone walls of the Institute, that he might feel better if he could live among the glass towers of Alicante. He hadn’t known home was across the city, waiting for him.

He set Rafe on the steps of their building and hopped him up one step, then swung him up another, for sheer joy. He opened the door to home.

“Alec,” boomed a voice behind him.