Obviously written by Cassandra Clare. I own no rights to this.

This was included in

first editions of The Lost Book of the White by her and Wesley Chu. It tells the
story of Jem Carstairs and Tessa Gray’s wedding and explains why no one remembers
it.

Unfortunately it does include some spoilers from LBW so if you have not read it
yet, I don’t recommend reading it. Otherwise, enjoy :)

~~~

Magnus Bane was scheming.

To an untrained observer, the High Warlock of Brooklyn wouldn’t look like

he was doing much of anything at all. For one thing, he was wearing purple silk
pajamas. For another thing, he was in bed, leaning back against a pile of pillows
with a spell book open in his lap.

Beside him, Alec Lightwood was stretched out on his side, deeply asleep.
Earlier that day, Alec had taken their son, Max, to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden.
This had been at Magnus’s request—he wanted Max to have ample opportunity to tire
himself out before bedtime. It worked almost too well. Max had made fast friends
with a werewolf toddler named Eliza, and the two of them tore around the gardens
blissfully for about three hours straight, Max crawling while Eliza ran, albeit
unsteadily. Eliza’s mother had been quite surprised the first time Max levitated.
Luckily, he was glamoured so only she and Alec noticed.

Though not possessed of much vocabulary, Eliza clearly wanted Max to

levitate her as well. Fortunately, Max did not yet have that sort of skill. Alec
and Max returned home happy, covered in mud, and—best of all—exhausted. Magnus
really wanted them all to sleep through the night.

Magnus shifted position and peered across the room at the mantel clock
atop the dresser, a hideous thing covered in putti that Ragnor had given him years
ago. The room was lit only by a candle that burned with a blue flame on the table
beside him, but he could make out the numbers. It was one forty-five a.m. Surely
that was late enough. Surely even the Shadowhunters and Downworlders of the West
Coast would be turning in. He’d given Catarina and Jem and Tessa a heads-up, after
all, and as for the Blackthorns and Emma Carstairs, they were kids! And not even
babies, with their bizarre and erratic relationship to sleep. Surely the would be
asleep by now, worn out from running around on the beach or whatever it was that
the residents of the Los Angeles Institute did all day. Yes, it was time.

Snuggling a little farther under the blanket, Magnus looked fondly over at
Alec’s sleeping form, his black hair like spilled ink across the ivory pillowcase.
He closed his book and set it on the bedside table. He mentally reached within,
feeling about for a particular pocket of magic folded away deep inside, a self-
contained bubble. I had been two weeks since he’d been freed from the influence of
the Svefnthorn, and while the markings on his skin had faded, his teeth had shrunk
back to their normal size, and the overcharged magic of the artifact had left his
system, this one reserve of magical energy had lingered.

At first, Magnus had considered hanging on to it as a sort of insurance

policy. A little extra magic went a long way, especially when the magic was this
potent, and Magnus was quite certain that he and Alec and their friends would have
plenty more dangers to face in the years to come. That was their job, after all.
But clinging to the magic out of fear of imagined dangers didn’t feel good. It felt
like letting demons have a small victory over him, playing right into their scaly,
demonic hands. No, instead he had resolved to use the power in a decidedly un-
demon-sanctioned manner—to create joy.

Magnus shut his eyes. Oneiromancy, the study and practice of dream magic,
had never been one of his specialties. But with the added kernel of power from the
Sveftnthorn, he felt quite confident that he could pull of this one feat, even as
complex as it was. The trickiest part, it seemed to him, was holding himself in
that drowsy state between waking and sleeping, while maintaining enough awareness
to cast the spell. He lay back against the pillows, letting his eyelids flutter
shut for just a moment….

~~~

When Magnus opened his eyes again, he was standing in the middle of Blackfriars
Bridge, the panorama of London spread out around him in all directions.

He took a deep breath of river-tasting air. The sky was a dark violet, the
sun only just beginning to rise. There was no traffic, which was a distinct
advantage to throwing a party on a dream bridge rather than on the real thing.
There was a warm breeze in the air, and the Thames danced beneath it, silvery in
the dawn light. Had he ever noticed wind in a dream before? Magnus wasn’t sure. He
admired the view from the bridge—it seemed just about right, though he hadn’t been
here for a couple decades. Perhaps some ugly new construction had taken place since
then, but who would fault him for omitting that?

“Magnus!”

He turned and saw two figures hurrying toward him. It was Tessa and Jem,
both in what Magnus assumed was their pajamas. Tessa’s were gray with white rabbits
on them. Jem’s were dark-green-and-navy-blue plaid. They were barefoot, but that
wouldn’t matter on a dream bridge. He started to smile as they got closer and he
could see that they were both giddy and laughing, a hint of disbelief on their
faces.

Tessa threw her arms around him, knocking him off-balance. He marveled at
how solid and real she felt.

“It’s working!” she said in wonder.

“A magical discipline unexplored is always worth exploring,” Magnus said,

stepping back. “I may be late to the game with oreiromancy, but I plan to make up
for my tardiness all at once, right now. Is that what your planning to wear to your
wedding?”

“It’s not traditional, but neither was the yellow cotton shirt dress I
wore for the courthouse wedding. And I do love bunnies,” said Tessa. “I’m all right
with it if Jem is.”

“I would marry you if you were wearing a barrel,” said Jem.

“But why would I be wearing a barrel?” said Tessa.

They were both grinning at each other stupidly. Magnus decided something
needed to be done; he wasn’t sure how long his magic would hold out.

“I won’t have it!” he said. “If I’m to throw you a dream wedding, you must
be properly dressed for the occasion. It’s in my contract. I do hope you read the
fine print.”

He snapped his fingers, and Jem’s pajamas were replaced by an exquisitely

cut black suit. Magnus aimed for something that suggested the style of the
Shadowhunter gear Jem had worn long ago, in the first years he knew Tessa. Wedding
runes were intricately embroidered on the lapels in gold thread. As Jem marveled at
the excellent fit, Magnus turned his attention to Tessa.

“I know,” he said, “a wedding dress is a highly personal choice. But as

our other guests will be arriving momentarily, and time is of the essence, I’m
going to take a stab at it.”

“You have my express permission,” Tessa said.

Magnus snapped his fingers again, and the Tessa was wearing a beautiful
sleeveless gown of pale silver, with a full skirt that reminded Magnus of the first
time he’d met her, at a vampire ball. A couple more flicks of his fingers, and her
hair rearranged itself beautifully into an updo, with a few tendrils loose around
her face. One more gesture, and Tessa’s familiar jade pendant appeared around her
neck—as did the pearl bracelet she always wore, a gift from Will on their thirtieth
anniversary.

Tessa looked startled, reaching up to touch her hair, then brushing her
hands over the gown. “How do I look?”

Jem looked very young again as he gazed at her, his dark eyes full of
emotion. “Ni hen piao liang,” he whispered. You are very beautiful.

Magnus turned away to give them a moment—and felt familiar arms close
around him.

Alec kissed Magnus on his forehead—being slightly shorter than Magnus, he

had to pull Magnus down a bit to do it, which Magnus didn’t mind at all—and
muttered, “You’re a sentimental bastard, aren’t you?” in his ear.

But he was grinning all over his face as he turned to greet Tessa and Jem,
congratulating them. They both looked delighted to see him.

“So let me get this straight,” Alec said. “You, me, Tessa, and Jem will
all remember this with perfect recall. For the other guests, they’ll remember it at
first, but then it will fade away, the way dreams do?”

“That is correct. They won’t recall it the way we will, but their souls
will be present, and glad for it. Well, mostly glad for it,” Magnus said.

“What do you mean, ‘mostly’?” Jem said nervously.

“I mean that I’m not sure how Church will feel about the whole thing.”

“Church!” Alec and Jem exclaimed at the same time, and turned to see the
grumpy Persian cat sauntering toward them down the center of the bridge.

Tessa laughed. “Well, he does sleep twenty hours a day. I suppose we

shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I took the liberty of adding him to the guest list you gave me,” Magnus
said. “I’m trying to get on his good side.”

“Why?” Alec asked, incredulous. “He’s a cat.”

 “So he won’t hate me forever when I do this.” Magnus snapped his fingers,
and a silver bow in the same fabric as Tessa’s dress appeared around Church’s neck.
Church’s eyes widened for a moment. Then he sat down, and after a moment, became
very focused on cleaning his front paw.

“Now,” Magnus said, “I simply must get this bridge decorated.”

“It’s decorated perfectly,” said a voice from behind him. Turning, he saw
Clary, who was holding Max. Behind her was Jace, followed by Isabelle and Simon,
who were leaning together, whispering conspiratorially. Jocelyn and Luke were
there, looking slightly unkempt, and Magnus remembered that they were in the
process of remodeling a barn at Luke’s farm so Jocelyn could expand her painting
studio. Ragnor and Catarina had also appeared, as well as a whole gaggle of kids—
the Blackthorn clan. Julian and Helen, Tiberius and Livia, Drusilla and Octavian.
Emma Carstairs was with them, though she broke away from the group immediately,
running to hug Clary. They were the same height now, Magnus noticed with amusement.
Max had escaped from Clary and was riding on Alec’s shoulders now, babbling a story
to Helen Blackthorn and her wife, Aline. They looked very amused, though it was
unlikely they understood even a quarter of what he said.

Maryse and Kadir were there too, already deep in conversation with Jocelyn
and Luke. Kadir hadn’t been on the guest list Jem and Tessa had given Magnus,
because they didn’t really know him, but Magnus had added him as Maryse’s plus-one.
It never hurt to butter up your boyfriend’s mother, especially when she was willing
to babysit for days at a time.

A couple Silent Brothers had appeared—Enoch? Shadrach? Magnus was slightly

embarrassed to admit that they all looked alike to him, now that Jem was no longer
counted among their number as Brother Zachariah. Magnus hadn’t known if the Gregori
would be able to attend, since they didn’t normally sleep. One of them—Enoch?—
inclined his hooded head slightly at Magnus, acknowledging this mad thing he was
doing as worthwhile. At least that was how Magnus chose to interpret the gesture.

Octavian was climbing Jace like a jungle gym. Clary was talking with
Julian and Emma, while Tiberius stood near his older brother, looking around at
London with fierce curiosity in his gray eyes. Livia and Drusilla were perched on
the railing of the bridge, Livia chatting animatedly with Simon and Isabelle,
Drusilla looking around shyly. Catarina went to lean beside her, asking her a
question. Magnus looked at the motley assortment of clothing on the assembled
group. Mostly casual, though there were more pajamas as well. Magnus made two
sweeping gestures, and all at once everyone was looking very sharp in formal
attire. Even better, they barely seemed to notice the change. Magnus was impressed.
Oneiromancy—who knew!

A hand gripped his arm. It was Tessa, who looked close to tears. “Magnus.
I can’t believe you’re doing this for us. I…” She trailed off, at a loss for words.

Magnus regarded her fondle. “Tessa, most people’s idea of a dream wedding
is not a literal dream wedding. But since yours is, I am happy to oblige. Shall we
get this show on the road?”

Jem and Tessa took their places on either side of Magnus, and the guests
gathered around. The sun had climbed well above the horizon, casting rays of warm
light between the long shadows of the wedding guests.

“Dear friends,” Magnus said to Jem and Tessa, “we are honored to share
this moment with you, and I am doubly honored to be given the chance to speak.
Several hundred years ago I got very drunk and woke up as ordained minister. Today
I have decided that doing so was a wise choice after all.”

Jocelyn snorted, then looked embarrassed. Luke grinned at her.

“Joking aside, it is impossible to stand here with you all and not feel
that there is some greater plan at work, some greater force that has brought these
two souls across more than a century to be joined as one.”

Clary’s eyes were glistening. Jace reached into his pocket and offered her
what looked like a handkerchief but was more likely a soft cloth for polishing
blades. She gave a wry smile of recognition, and sniffled into it.

“I debated which customs to follow in officiating this wedding,” Magnus

went on. “Whether to conduct a Shadowhunter ceremony, or a warlock ceremony, or
even a mundane ceremony, for many worlds have been united in the two of you. But
none of these traditions seemed quite appropriate on their own. So I’ve attempted
to tailor a ceremony that will honor your unique paths.”

Magnus nodded to Jem, who reached into his pocket and produced a gold
ring. Jem had requested a single word etched around the outside of it: Mizpah.

“It has been said,” said Magnus, “that when two people are at one in their
inmost hearts, they shatter even the strength of iron or bronze. Theresa Gray, are
you at one with James Carstairs in your inmost heart?”

Tessa’s eyes were wide, her face serious as she gazed at Jem. “I am,” she
said, offering her hand to him. He slid the ring onto her finger.

The Magnus nodded at Tessa, who produced another ring, this one from thin
air. Magnus had to suppress the grin that threatened to break his calm officiant
expression. It delighted him that Tessa was engaging in a small amount of
oneiromancy herself, and Jem looked as pleased by it as Magnus felt. This ring was
the exact match of the first, and he knew what it said as well: May the Angel watch
between me and thee when we are absent from one another.

“James Carstairs—Ke Jian Ming—are you at one with Theresa Gray in your
inmost heart?”

“I am,” Jem said, delight visible in his dark eyes. Tessa put the ring on
him, and they stood for a moment, holding hands and smiling at each other like they
couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“For I am persuaded,” said Magnus, and Jem and Tessa both looked up at
him, recognizing a piece of the old Shadowhunter wedding ceremony, though he had
altered the wording, “that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor demons, nor
principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor
depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate these two.” He stretched
out his arms. “Therefore I am overjoyed to declare this marriage consecrated, here
in the presence of your friends and family. Tessa Gray and Jem Carstairs, you are
married, and the world is better for it. You may kiss each other, not that you
really need my permission.”

The assembled crowd cheered as Jem and Tessa kissed, a kiss that had been
long delayed. The kiss continued, and Magnus slowly backed away, joining the
cheering audience. “Let’s give them a moment,” he said, and happy chatter swelled
around him.

Magnus noted that Alec was looking very foxy in his Armani suit, laughing
with Maryse. Ragnor and Catarina were cackling over something, glad to be reunited
now that Ragnor didn’t have to pretend to be dead—or at least, didn’t have to
pretend with them. Clary had her arm draped over Emma’s shoulders, and Jace was
arguing with Simon about how to properly tie a necktie. Tiberius and Drusilla were
watching this argument as though it were a tennis match. Julian had lifted Octavian
up so he could look down at the river flowing by beneath. Isabelle was joking with
Livia, who was giving Max a piggyback ride. It was a miraculously good wedding.

Here they were, his friends. They’d literally gone into Hell twice with
him now. He found himself reflecting on how much had changed. At first his life had
felt like Magnus against the world. Then for years and years it had been Magnus,
Catarina, and Ragnor against the world. Now his community was a much larger group,
one that had spread wide enough that instead of Magnus and his friends against the
world, it felt like Magnus and his friends, a part of the world. Probably the best
part of the world.

It was a good feeling.

“Look!” a girl’s voice cried. It was Drusilla, pointing up into the sky,
eyes wide with wonder. There was a collective gasp as the crowd saw what she had
spotted. Two figures flew overhead, riding a translucent white stallion with two
gold hooves and two silver. One of them was a blond boy in ragged clothes, who
looked down at the Blackthorns and waved. The figure in front of him was harder to
make out—a gentry faerie in clothes just as ragged, only he was as translucent as
the horse. The blond boy must be Mark Blackthorn, Magnus marveled. He’d “invited”
the whole family, not knowing whether those who rode with the Wild Hunt could be
summoned by dream magic. He had his answer, but it came with another mystery. Who
was this companion, so close to Mark that they would appear together in a dream?

The riders made a circle overhead, while the Blackthorns shouted and
waved, and Mark waved back, smiling an odd smile down at them. Then they faded away
into the morning air.

Magnus saw with relief that Jace, Clary, Simon, Isabelle, and Alec had all
move in around the Blackthorn kids, giving them an opportunity to talk about what
they had just seen—their stolen brother, visiting so briefly.

He glanced over and saw Tessa and Jem still standing by the railing. There
was a shimmer beside them, at the edge of the bridge, and the hair on the back of
Magnus’s neck rose.

He knew Will Herondale had never haunted the moral world, because he had
lived and died happily and had no unfinished business among the living. While
Magnus didn’t subscribe to any specific set of beliefs about reincarnation or the
afterlife, he had always had a strong sense that Will was waiting on the other bank
of a dark river—be it Lethe, or some other border between the living and the dead.
He was there among the green grass, the sky above as dark a blue as his eyes,
waiting patiently for Jem and Tessa to join him, that he might lead them by the
hand to whatever wonders lay beyond the veil.

The philosophers of ancient Greece had believed dreams and sleep to be the
twin of death: Morpheus and Hades, standing side by side. And here, in that space,
Magnus would not have been surprised if Will stretched out his hand to those he had
loved best in life—to Jem and Tessa.

He was, after all, a Herondale, and very stubborn.

Alec sidled up to Magnus, leaving the Blackthorns in the capable hands of

his siblings and their partners. The kids seemed to have taken Mark’s appearance as
a sort of wedding favor created especially for them.
 Alec twinned an arm around Magnus’s waist and pulled him close, kissing
him on the temple. “It was very kind of you to use the last of your Svefnthorn
magic on this,” he said.

Magnus leaned into Alec. “Well, it wasn’t enough magic to send us to the
moon, or get us into the front row at the Alexander McQueen runway. So I figured,
next best thing.”

Alec smiled at him pointedly. “Actually, I happen to know that you did it
because you are an incredibly kind person, and that is one of the many things I
love about you.”

“Oh dear,” Magnus said, turning to face him. “You know all my secrets.”

Then they were kissing, and kissing in a magical dream turned out to be
just as perfect as kissing in the waking world.

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