Carry On

Penelope runs into me like a freight train. She grabs my hand and puts it on her shoulder. “Show me,” she says. “Turn on the juice.”

I pull my hand back. “What?”

She grabs it again. “I saw what just happened.” She puts my hand on her shoulder. “When did you learn to do that?”

“Stop,” I say, and I try to say it meaningfully, looking around at everyone who can hear us. The Lawn is full of kids, all inspecting the scorch marks and generally acting like people who almost just died but didn’t. “I was just giving him moral support.”

“Excellent work, gentlemen.” Miss Possibelf is standing beside us; I didn’t even see her walk up. “I’ve seldom seen such a strong and nuanced nursery rhyme, Mr. Pitch—and never a situation that so desperately required it.”

Baz bows humbly. Perfectly. His hair falls forward.

“Mr. Snow,” she goes on, turning to me, “perhaps you’ll provide a report for the headmaster upon his return. And you can work on moderation this week in Elocution.”

I dip my head. “Yes, miss.”

“As you were,” she says without any magic.

Penelope puts my hand on her shoulder again. I pull it away.

When I turn back to the castle, I see Agatha, the only one still watching us from the ramparts.

45

SIMON

“You got Visited! And you didn’t tell me!”

Penelope is standing with her hands on her hips, and I’m pretty sure she’d be casting a world of hurt at me if Baz hadn’t taken away her wand.

“You told him?” She swings her hand at Baz. “But you didn’t tell me?”

“It was his mum,” I say.

“Yeah,” she says, “but he wasn’t even here.”

“I was going to tell you, Penny, but then he came back, and everything got complicated.”

“We’re telling you now,” Baz says.

“‘We’?” she says. “Since when are you two a ‘we’?”

“We’re not a ‘we’!” I half shout.

Baz throws his hands up in the air and falls back on his bed. “You people are impossible.”

“And since when,” Penny says to me, “are you a power outlet that other magicians can just plug in to?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’ve never tried it before.”

“Try it again now,” she says, flopping down on my bed next to me.

“Penny, no, I don’t want to hurt you.”

She puts my hand on her shoulder. “Simon, imagine what we could do with your power and my spells. We could finish the Humdrum off by dinner—and then take on hunger and world peace.”

“Imagine what the Mage will do when he realizes he has a nuclear power generator in his backyard,” Baz croons from his bed.

I swallow and look at the wall. Penny’s hand drops. I have to admit that I’m not eager to tell the Mage—or anybody—what I did today. It’s bad enough that I can’t control my power. I don’t want it pulled completely out of my hands.

Penny’s hand covers mine on the bed. “Was it a special spell?” she asks softly.

“No,” I say. “I just … pushed.”

“Show me.”

Baz raises himself up on one elbow to watch. I lock eyes with Penny.

“I trust you,” she says.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”

Penny shrugs. “Pain is temporary.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t damage you.”

She shrugs again. “Come on. We have to figure out how this works.”

“We never have to,” I say. “You just always want to.”

She squeezes my hand. “Simon.”

I can see she’s made up her mind; she won’t leave me alone until I do this. I try to remember how it felt out on the Lawn. Like I was opening, unwinding—just a little. Just barely letting go …

I give the very smallest push.

“Great snakes!” Penny says, snatching her hand away from me and jumping off the bed. “Fuck a nine-toed troll, Simon.” She’s shaking her hand, and there are tears in her eyes. “Stevie Nicks and Gracie Slick! Fuck!”

I’m on my feet. “Sorry! Penny, I’m sorry, let me see!”

Baz drops back onto his bed, cackling.

Penelope holds out her arm. It looks red and mottled. “I’m so sorry,” I say, gently taking her wrist. “Should we go to the nurse?”

“I don’t think so,” she says. “I think it’s passing.” Her arm is quivering. Baz gets off his bed to take a look.

“Did it feel like I cast a spell on you?” I ask.

“No,” they both say at once.

“It was more like a shock,” Penelope says, then looks up at Baz. “What about for you?”

He gets out his wand. “I don’t know. I was focusing on the dragon.”

“Did it hurt?” she asks him.

“Maybe you didn’t see what you think you saw,” Baz says. “Maybe Snow really was just giving me moral support.”

“Right. And maybe you’re the most gifted mage in five generations.”

“Maybe I am,” he says, tapping his ivory wand against her arm. “Get well soon!”

“How did that feel?” I ask her.