Magnus sighed and drummed his fingers along the well-varnished edge of the heavy walnut table in front of him. "I still don't understand why I need to have a babysitter. It's not like I haven't been to the Spiral Labyrinth before."

The young warlock who had been assigned to keep watch over Magnus and Seraphine snorted as he aimed his finger upward at the ceiling, targeting a spider as it crept across the scalloped cornices. A faint trail of orange sparks shot out from his finger and zapped the spider, sending it spinning down on a thread of silk before it recovered. "You do realize that by calling me a babysitter, you're actually calling yourself a baby, right?" His greased-back dark hair didn't quite manage to disguise the draconian horns that curved away from his high forehead. "And I'm not a babysitter. I'm -" he cleared his throat and adopted the most pompous tone he could manage, "A personal assistant and guide, extended as a courtesy by the Headmistress herself."

"Guide," Magnus scoffed back. "I was coming here before your great-great-great-and-then-some grandmother was born."

"Yeah, well, Tessa Gray has always been nice enough to keep an eye on you for us, at least as long as I've been around. Why isn't she here this time? She's a lot nicer than you are."

Tessa.

Magnus swallowed.

"Because I'm here instead," Seraphine lilted from behind the cover of the giant tome she was reading. She lowered it back down to the table on top of two other books that were laying open to marked pages. "And I certainly don't recall being branded as a miscreant who needed watching." She darted a quick look at Magnus to make sure he was okay with the unexpected mention of his friend. "It's not as if anyone would actually steal any of these books, Mr. Barnes."

"Wouldn't they?" The young acolyte peered meaningfully at Magnus.

"I borrowed them," the older warlock protested. When he received an incredulous set of eyebrows in return, he sighed again. He had been doing a lot of sighing lately. "Borrowed without permission. I brought them back."

Their watchdog gave him a dark look. "Eventually."

Seraphine reached across the table and patted the boy's hand affectionately. "I'm terribly sorry, Donnie, but I wonder if I might trouble you for a spot of tea? We'll stay right here until you get back." She fluttered her eyelashes at him delicately, grateful for the tiny but powerful glamour Magnus had laid over her scarlet eyes to prevent anyone from looking too closely. It might have been possible to pass them off as her warlock mark, but neither of them was willing to risk it. He had done a tricky bit of magic that inverted the signature of his work so that it was nearly invisible to see or sense.

Donnie looked affronted. "Tea?"

"Yes, dear. Please and thank you." It had been almost impossible to keep the subject of their research a secret, and both of them were at their wit's end with being tailed from one library vault to the next. Quite aside from disguising Seraphine's hellish eyes, Magnus had had to act as a diversion on more than one occasion to draw attention away from her as one of the fiery fits flared up. She hadn't had another one quite as bad as the one on the border of Peru again, but her private rooms had been warded and fire-proofed as a precaution. Neither one of them wanted to risk telling the Headmistress that there was a very small, very polite, English time-bomb walking around the Spiral Labyrinth.

Donnie shrugged. "Fine. But I think I'll stay right here." He lifted his hands and crooked his fingers. Orange light glowed for a moment and then a silver tray appeared on the table, complete with a floral-patterned china teapot, cups on saucers, and...

"You see, now that," Magnus pointed to the pool of milk and sugar cubes that had filled the shallow tray, "is caused by insufficient specificity of focus. You concentrated on summoning milk and sugar, but failed to account for the need to have them contained. Also, you should use a bit more of a snap – it really gets the job done with style."

To demonstrate his point, Magnus snapped his fingers and a second tea service appeared in perfect order, along with what looked like an expertly-brewed cappuccino. The artful pattern drizzled on top of the foam looked suspiciously like a cartoon character sticking out its tongue. Magnus added a sprinkle of caramel flakes and sipped at it triumphantly. "Ahh... tastes like sweet satisfaction."

"Show off," Donnie muttered. "You know, I could actually help, like I'm supposed to, instead of just fetching tea and re-shelving books when you've left them laying around. I'd say that judging by the titles of your selections, you might need my help."

Magnus gave him a challenging look. "Is that right?"

"Oh, come on. 'Progressive Disorders and You: A Practical Guide', 'Devolutionary Theory', and 'Health and Hellth: Best Practices for Warlocks'." He waved his hands at the mess across three tables in the study room they were using. "Not to mention all of the reading on basic warlock physiology and a subtle, but not undetectable, amount of fire-proofing on her rooms."

Seraphine tensed, and her cat ears stiffened nervously, but the young warlock lifted his hand soothingly. "Look, believe it or not, the Headmistress actually assigned one of her best, not one of her least favourites, to help you guys."

"Oh, really?" Magnus' slitted eyes glanced down at where the sugar had dissolved into the puddle of milk on the first tray.

"Yeah, yeah," Donnie waved him off. "So I'm a little behind on my conjuring, whatever; I'm working on it. I've been keeping busy with my true passion. You do realize that Catarina brought you two straight to the infirmary when she Portalled you in, right? It's not exactly a secret that one of you was sick when you got here, and since you still haven't left and you're still ploughing through the healing sections, I'm guessing you haven't got it figured out yet."

Magnus looked at him curiously and crossed his arms, still not entirely convinced. His voice became curt and businesslike. "Studying healing, then?"

"Yep."

"Want to help us?"

"Yep."

"Pretty good at assessments?"

"Yep."

"Prepared to suffer an unpleasant death if you breathe a word of what's going on?"

"Yep – wait, what?" Donnie looked bewildered.

Magnus flashed him a dazzling grin. "Too late, you've already agreed." He dropped his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "The pact is sealed."

The young warlock couldn't tell if Magnus was being serious or not. He shook his head disbelievingly. "I think I'm beginning to understand all the whispers about you around here."

"As long as everyone remembers why they're whispering," Magnus acknowledged cheerfully, his words completely at odds with the underlying threat. "I didn't become the High Warlock of Brooklyn for nothing."

Seraphine cleared her throat. "If we could please get back to the matter at hand, gentlemen?"

"Absolutely!" Her brother dispelled the intricate glamour that had been woven over her eyes, unveiling the brilliant scarlet pupils and slightly darker irises that surrounded them. Donnie recoiled in his chair.

"Woah!"

Magnus snorted. "Is that your clinical assessment?"

Donnie glared in response and then collected himself for a moment before peering more closely. He felt his lips part in amazement when he observed that the colouring was not static; there was a constant, subtle shifting, as if Seraphine's eyes were only a window through which to peer into something much more sinister beyond. "Extraordinary," he breathed.

Seraphine carefully held her emotions in check, but it was hard to fight the sting of tears that threatened to rise at being... examined... like she was some sort of thing. She couldn't have helped what had happened to her on Wrangel Island; it was simply unreasonable to imagine that she could handle such awesome, raw power without being affected by it. And if what the Nephilim were saying was true - that the damage to the world's wards might have been permanently healed - then she was more than happy to have made the sacrifice. But it was still up to her to live with the consequences, whatever they might be.

She stoically endured Donnie's probing as he asked a string of questions. She had no choice but to tell the truth when he enquired as to when the symptoms had first presented, which led to her outlining the entire story of what had happened to her inside the ellipse of black runes on Wrangel Island. She started seriously worrying about his eyes as they grew wider and wider in amazement.

"I heard the Consul's address over the Projectors the morning after," he wondered quietly before jerking his thumb at Magnus. "But I thought it was him that did it. You know, 'cause the Consul was there and all. I think everyone just figures this was yet another one of Magnus' Magnificent Marvels."

"Better to let them keep thinking that until we can get to the bottom of this," Magnus warned protectively. He tapped his chin lightly. "Although I do like the sound of that..."

The conversation shifted into practical questions about whether or not there was anything that made the symptoms worsen, and that was when both Magnus and Seraphine fell silent. There was a limit as to how much they were willing to divulge on that particularly sensitive matter.

Magnus fiddled with one of the buttons on his rather plain black dress shirt. His sister had stubbornly insisted that he choose more conservative attire while they were in the Spiral Labyrinth to avoid raising the Headmistress' ire unnecessarily. He chose his words carefully. "The progression advanced more rapidly when she was exposed to somewhat more demonically-aligned texts."

The younger warlock let the answer slide without prying further, perhaps hesitant to push Magnus when it finally seemed like they were trusting him. "And was there anything that causes any sort of improvement or reprieve?"

"Nothing," Magnus said hopelessly.

Seraphine wracked her memory for something that might help. Donnie watched her and nodded encouragingly. "Come on. Take me through it. Tell me about a time when it was better."

She squeezed her eyes shut. When wasn't I bursting into flames every other hour? "Right after we came back. I didn't even know there was anything wrong with me, aside from how I looked."

"Where were you?"

"Alicante. The Lightwoods were kind enough to offer their hospitality, and I stayed on because Sera's wedding was coming up. I got so busy helping... I don't think I can even remember being troubled by it at all."

"When did you first, ah..." he searched for a delicate way to put it, "experience an incendiary event?"

She mulled it over thoughtfully. "Not until I returned home to Toronto."

Magnus cracked a smile. "There it is. Maple syrup and hockey make it worse."

Seraphine looked daggers at him, but Donnie completely ignored the comment, possibly because he hadn't even heard it. He rubbed his hands together idly and stared off into the space between two of the glossy-topped tables strewn with books. "Interesting."

He appeared to be deep in thought, and the other two waited more or less impatiently for him to snap out it it. Magnus waved his hand in front of the other man's eyes. "Hello? You don't just get to say 'interesting' and then clam up."

"You do it all the time," Seraphine put in as quietly as possible. Her brother scowled in response.

Donnie laced his fingers together eagerly. "Have you considered the effect of the demon towers?"

Both of the guests stared back at him, dumbfounded, and the young warlock shrugged in response. "What? I can't be smart because I haven't blown out my first century candle yet?"

The two half-siblings had never looked more alike than they did in that moment when they gave him twin looks of annoyance.

"Okay, okay," he said hastily, "I'm just saying... if you want to buy yourself some time, it sounds like your best bet is to get back inside the sphere of influence of the demon towers. If there's... something... trying to get a hold of you from the realms of Hell, then the towers will serve as a natural line of defense and make it harder to reach you. It'll at least slow, if not stop, whatever's going on so that you can get some breathing room to work on a solution."

Seraphine's brow fell. "I can't just impose myself on someone indefinitely." She looked at her brother and their thoughts raced ahead together along the same lines. It would certainly be too much to ask to stay with him in the Consul's residence; it was unheard of for Downworlders to stay in the city, with the exception of...

"The councillors." Magnus clapped his hands excitedly. "You have to take the warlock seat on the council."

She looked aghast. "You want me to what?"

"Yes! Dumb and Dumber got themselves thrown off the council for what they did with Everett to trap Sera under the Gard! The warlock seat is vacant right now! Oh!" He blew a kiss to ceiling. "Sera was right. Everything happens for a reason."

"But I can't... I couldn't possibly... " she stammered. "I haven't the faintest idea of what I'd be doing!"

"Then you'll fit in perfectly," Magnus assured her with a wink. "No one ever wants these seats when they come open - trust me. It's dreadfully boring to sit in session. But the job comes with a permanent residence in the city and all-you-can-eat crab cakes during caucus."

Doubt remained firmly etched across her features. "I would be closing the door on my own prison," she said glumly. "If he's right, I won't be able to leave the city without starting all of... this... again."

Magnus reached across the table and took her small hands in his own. "Not a prison. A home. And you won't be alone."

He could see her resistance starting to crumble and he patted her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry. I can get you that seat in a snap." To accentuate his point, he snapped his fingers in a dazzle of blue sparks.

A fire message flashed onto the table in front of him.

All three warlocks stared at it in surprise.

"Did you mean to do that?" Donnie asked incredulously.

Magnus snatched up the folded missive and gave the younger man a significant look. "Now you'll never know." He opened the message. The sight of his husband's relaxed scrawl sent a flush of warmth through his heart that was quickly doused when he read the accompanying list of material components and instructions for brewing.

What new horror is this?

The letter concluded by asking him to begin preparations for the concoction, and to remain in the Spiral Labyrinth on standby for the final ingredients. Magnus immediately resolved to get topside at least long enough to get a cell signal so that he could call Alec for the full story. It would appear that he had been gone too long.

How we immortals forget that days fall off the calendar even when we fail to mark them, he thought to himself sadly. It was bitterly ironic that he had endless centuries ahead of him and yet no time to lose. Seraphine would have to go ahead without him and begin to test the protection of the demon towers, and he... well...

He grimaced. "It looks like I'll need to pay a visit to the Headmistress after all."

**Author's note: Apologies for the horrific delay in posting. This was initially all one, LONG chapter, but I've split it into its two more logical pieces instead for 12 and 13. 

Life got pretty hectic for a while here, and I'm staring down a 15-day stretch at work, so I'll still be running short on free time for the foreseeable future. I'm brutal, I know. D:   Rest assured that I continue to make progress!

Thanks are in order once more to Tara for continuing to Name All The Things – Donnie owes you one.