Bunce and I float to the opening, and I don’t try to shield us, because there’s nothing that could.
We climb into a room too loud and strobing to describe, then kneel in broken glass, trying to hold ourselves together. Bunce throws up.
In the seconds when the light isn’t too bright or gone completely, I see Simon in the middle of the room, holding on to the Humdrum like he’s about to tell him something really important.
Simon has those red wings again, and they’re spread wide.
The Mage is here, too, clawing at Simon uselessly—nothing can move Snow when he looks like that, his shoulders hunched forward, and his jaw pushed out.
Bunce is on all fours, trying to lift her head. “What’s he doing?” she rasps, then heaves again.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Should we try to stop him?”
“Do you think we could?”
The light is getting less intense. So is the dark.
I can hardly see the Humdrum anymore, but Simon still has something in a death grip.
The noise is changing, too—getting higher, like it’s winding up, from a roar to a whine.
When the sound stops, my ears pop, and Simon falls forward to the ground, lit only by moonlight through the broken windows.
He falls, and he doesn’t get up.
PENELOPE
For a moment, the only sound is Baz, howling.
Then the Mage falls on Simon’s limp body.
“What have you done?” He’s shaking Simon, and beating on his wings. “Give it to me!”
Simon lifts an arm to push the Mage off, and that sign of life is all it takes to unleash Baz. He moves so fast, my eyes can’t focus on him until he’s holding the Mage by the chest, his fangs open over the man’s neck.
“No!” Simon whispers, trying to pull himself up by grabbing their legs.
The Mage points his silver-tipped wand at Baz, but Simon grabs it and holds it against his own heart. “No,” he says to Baz—or maybe to the Mage. “Stop!”
The three of them twist and stumble. The Mage is covered in blood, and Baz’s mouth is full of teeth.
“Give it to me!” the Mage shouts at Simon. Does he mean his wand?
“It’s gone!” Simon cries, using the wand to hold himself up. “It’s all gone!”
The Mage pushes his wand into Simon’s chest. “Give it to me!”
Baz yanks at the Mage’s hair, pulling him back.
“Stop!” Simon cries. “It’s gone! It’s over!”
No one is listening to him.
I hold out my ring hand and speak as loudly and clearly as I ever have, letting my magic rise up from the empty pit of my stomach—“Simon says!”
Simon’s next words ring out, dense with magic—“Stop it, stop hurting me!”
The Mage jerks away from him, then sags in Baz’s arms.
Baz steps back, confused, and lets the Mage drop to the floor. Then Baz reaches for Simon, but Simon is kneeling over the Mage, grasping at his chest.
“I … I think he’s dead. Penny! I think I killed him. Oh God,” Simon sobs. “Oh Merlin. Penny!”
I’m still shaking, but I crawl across the room towards them. “It’s okay, Simon.”
“It’s not okay—the Mage is dead. Why is he dead?”
I don’t know why he’s dead.
I don’t know what’s happening.
“Maybe that’s the only way he could stop hurting you,” I say.
“But I didn’t mean to kill him!” Simon cries, holding the Mage up, his arms around his back.
“Technically, it was Bunce who killed him,” Baz says, but he says it gently, and there are tears in his eyes.
“He’s dead,” Simon says. “The Mage is dead.”
84
LUCY
I didn’t know that something was wrong; I’d never been pregnant before. And no one had ever been pregnant with you, Simon.
The books say that you’ll feel butterfly wings and twitches. A quickening. I felt so much more.
I felt you humming inside me. Busy and bright. I felt flushed from my belly to my fingertips.
Davy never left my side. He cooked for me. He cast blessings over us both.
And maybe you’ll think that kindness was just for the ritual’s sake. But I think he cared for me. I think he cared for you.…
I think he wanted us both standing beside him in the bright future he was building. A new World of Mages.
* * *
Pregnant women are always tired.
They can’t hold down their meals. They feel peaked and light-headed.
One day I went out to feed our new chickens, and I realized I couldn’t get back to the house. I didn’t have enough energy to take another step.
I dropped to my knees, then leaned slowly forward, trying to protect you. Then I felt my lights blinking out.
Davy was inside, taking a nap. When he woke up, he found me there, red and thirsty. He carried me into the house, ranting about what could have happened and why I hadn’t cast for help. But my magic had gone thin—it’d been weeks since I cast a spell. When I’d tried lately, it felt like I was knocking on a hollow box. Everything that was there before just wasn’t anymore.
Everyone’s magic goes a bit wonky when they’re pregnant.
I felt better the next morning.
And worse the next.
The pulling in my stomach had gotten stronger, like a crank that kept tightening. I felt like I couldn’t stay in the cottage, but I couldn’t make it to the door.