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The consul said the traditional words. George swore his oath of loyalty to the Shadowhunters without hesitation, drew in a deep breath, then jauntily raised the Mortal Cup as if giving a toast. “Slainte!” he shouted, and as his friends broke into indulgent laughter, he took a slug. He was engulfed in the light — which somehow looked even bluer to Simon now that he’d Ascended — and then in an instant the light was gone and George was grinning the biggest grin he ever had. Simon knew it was cliche but he was genuinely concerned for a second that his friend’s face would split in two. He jumped to his feet before the consul got a chance to tell him to ‘arise,’ and bounded over to where Simon and the other new Shadowhunters were standing.
Simon had thought there was no reception, and there wasn’t, officially. But everyone did mill around after the Ascension ceremony and there was a definite celebratory mood in the air. George came up to Simon, who for the first time since the ceremony was not surrounded by the Lightwoods and Clary. “We did it! We’re officially Shadowhunters.”
Simon nodded. “I guess this is where ‘congratulations’ goes.”
George clapped Simon on the shoulder. “Congrats, Si.”
“You too.”
They were quiet for a moment, watching everyone else chatting jovially.
“Can I tell you something?” George said, his voice lower, more solemn than it had been seconds before.
Simon turned to him and nodded.
“For a second… I didn’t think I would make it.”
“That’s insane! Of course you made it — you’re as fit to be a Shadowhunter as anyone I’ve ever met.”
George shook his head. “There was a second — it must have only been a second — that I felt my body start to reject it. The blood. I can’t describe it, but I knew. And I just thought, no. No, I won’t let this happen. I have worked too hard for this, I have done too much. I am not going to be one of those Shadowhunters who dies before they’re even a true Shadowhunter. And then, something changed. I didn’t see the blue light, but I could see… I could see that I was whole. It sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Knowing you’re whole?”
“The only part that’s crazy is the idea of you not Ascending! It’s completely unfathomable!”
“There were never any moments you doubted I had what it takes?”
Simon looked at George like he’d truly lost his marbles. What could he possibly be talking about?
“You know, when I freaked out about snakes, or when I cried over dead rats, or when I led you into faerie land, or —”
“No!” Simon cut him off. “No, of course not. Look, there has to be room in the Shadowhunter world for all kinds of people. It’s a different world now. Okay, maybe 50 years ago or even 10 years ago those things would have mattered.”
George looked slightly affronted.
“I’m not saying you would have been any less cut out for this, I’m just saying the Shadowhunters were a little less accepting. But now — things are changing, my friend. There’s room, now, for Shadowhunters with a soul. Shadowhunters who actually think for themselves and maybe feel a bit sad when they see a dead creature. And if the Mortal Cup hadn’t evolved to accept those things with the rest of the world, I would have to seriously doubt its Angelic Power, Law or no Law.”
“Oh good idea, let’s bash the Law right off the bat.”
“I’m not bashing it. The cup made the right choice.”
“Now you’re starting to sound crazy.”
Simon shrugged. After all he’d been through, he didn’t doubt that a cup could make decisions. He didn’t doubt anything, really.