I am. I grab the dog and hold it up to my face.
“Hey, now,” the Normal says. Nicodemus hisses at him, and the man lets go of the dog’s chain.
“Bunce, what are you talking about?”
“Baz, we can’t let Simon face the Mage alone—I have a really bad feeling about it. I need you to come get me!”
Simon. Alone with the Mage. With my mother’s murderer.
“I’m coming.” I shove the animal under my arm and look up at the Normal. “I need to borrow your dog.”
“You can’t just—”
I hold up my wand. “There’s nothing to see here!” The Normal looks at us, then down at his hands, then gets a cigarette out of his pocket.
I start running towards my car.
Nicodemus is right behind me. “I’m coming with you!”
I keep running. He grabs at my arm again, and I whirl around, starting a fire in that palm. He jumps back.
The Bunce spaniel yelps at him.
“I have to save my sister,” he says. “And you could use my help. You know I can’t get in on my own.”
I tilt up my chin. “I could use your help. And if what you’re saying is true, Ebb certainly could. But I’ll be damned to hell twice over before I let a vampire into Watford. Even a gelded one.”
77
AGATHA
“Oh, thank magic,” Mum says. She’s standing in my doorway in her dressing gown.
I lift my head up from my pillow. “What?” I fell asleep in my clothes, on top of the blankets. I don’t know what time it is.
“Mitali Bunce just called. Simon and Penelope have run off to who knows where, and I thought you might be with them.”
“No—they’ve run off?”
“She hopes they’ve just run off, that they weren’t taken.” Mum’s voice breaks. “After last night.”
“Mum, what’s wrong?”
“There’s been another attack,” she says. “That horrible Humdrum—he attacked the Pitches. Ate everything. It’s such a shame. It was the grandest estate in magic.”
“But Simon—,” I say.
“What dear? Did he tell you something?”
* * *
They’ve gone to find the numpties. I’m sure of it. It’s exactly the sort of thing they’d do. Run off to confront a pack of ogres without talking to their parents or asking for help …
I think about telling my mother. That Simon was at the Pitches’ last night. That he and Penny—and Basilton Grimm-Pitch—were plotting together.
But Mum would just ask why I hadn’t told her sooner.
And then I think she’d tell me to keep my mouth shut. That no good could come of getting involved now, with the whole World of Mages on the brink of war, or possibly over it.
My dad’s at an emergency Coven meeting, Mum says. And the Mage is holed up in his tower, communing with the stars or something.
I can tell she’s relieved that I’m not with Simon and Penny, but also weirdly concerned. “Agatha, is everything, you know, tickety-boo with Simon?”
“Aside from the fact that he’s missing?”
“You know what I mean, darling. Between you. The two of you.”
“We’re fine,” I assure her.
I’m not about to tell her that we broke up. I don’t even know whether Simon’s alive; I’m not telling my mother about my ruined prospects until I absolutely have to.
I get some leftover party food—a Diet Coke and some soggy artichoke crostini—and go back to my room. I fell asleep last night before my parents’ party, and they never woke me. They must have decided I needed the rest.
I take a bite of bread. There’s nothing I can do about this. Any of it.
I don’t even really know where Simon is. “Out chasing numpties” isn’t helpful. What else do I know—that he might be with Baz? That he and Baz are friends now? That’s not a clue.
I still can’t believe they’re friends.
I can believe it of Simon; he’ll make friends with anyone who’s willing. Anyone who doesn’t mind the risks of befriending a human wrecking ball. But what’s in it for Baz?
All Baz has ever wanted from Simon is his demise. Baz would do anything to get Simon out of his way.
Anything …
What if this is all a trick?
What if Baz is luring Simon to the numpties? The way he lured me into the Wood that night …
Well. He didn’t quite lure me. I followed him. But still. But still …
Baz is a vampire.
Baz is a villain.
Baz is a Pitch.
My phone is on my nightstand. (I’m allowed to have one at home.) I pick it up and text Penny.
Your mum is looking for you. Everyone’s worried.
And:
Are you fighting numpties? Do you need help? I could get help.
Then:
Are you with Baz? I think it might be a trick. That he’s trying to hurt Simon.
And then:
You could have at least left a note. That seems pretty basic.
I throw the mobile down on the bed and pop open my Diet Coke. The photo of Lucy and Davy is stuffed under my pillow. I pull it out.
What would brave, bold Lucy Salisbury do in a hopeless situation like this?
Hot-tail it to California like a rational human being, apparently. Leave it to the heroes.
If Baz has turned on Simon, there’s nothing I can do to help.…
But I can’t just sit here, doing nothing, damn it! (Damn him.) (Damn them all.) Even when I’m not involved in their stupid drama, I’m still involved—I still have to play my part.…