She nods. “My mum says they’re trying to organize a vote of no confidence against him.”
“Can they do that?”
“They’re trying. And there’ve been duels all summer. Premal’s friend Sam got into it with one of the Grimm cousins after a wedding, and now he’s on trial.”
“Who is?”
“The Grimm.”
“For what?”
“Forbidden spells,” she says. “Banned words.”
“The Mage thinks I should go,” I say.
“What? Go where?”
“He thinks I should leave Watford.”
Penny’s eyes are big. “To fight the Humdrum?”
“No.” I shake my head. “To just … go. He thinks I’d be safer somewhere else. He thinks everyone here would be safer if I left.”
Her eyes keep getting bigger. “Where would you go, Simon?”
“He didn’t say. Some secret place.”
“Like a hideout?” she asks.
“I guess.”
“But what about school?”
“He doesn’t think that’s important right now.”
Penny snorts. She thinks the Mage undervalues education at the best of times. Especially the classics. When he dropped the linguistics programme, she wrote a stern letter to the faculty board. “So he wants you to do what?”
“Go away. Stay safe. Train.”
She folds her arms. “On a mountain. With ninjas. Like Batman.”
I laugh, but she doesn’t laugh with me. She leans forward. “You can’t just leave, Simon. He can’t stash you in a hole your whole life.”
“I’m not going,” I say. “I told him no.”
She pulls her chin back. “You told him no?”
“I … well, I can’t just leave Watford. It’s our last year, isn’t it.”
“I agree—you told him no?”
“I told him I didn’t want to! I don’t want to hide and wait for the Humdrum to find me. That doesn’t feel like a plan.”
“And what did the Mage say?”
“Not much. I got upset and started to—”
“I knew it. Your room smelled like a campfire. Oh my word! You went off on the Mage?”
“No. I pulled back.”
“Really?” She looks impressed. “Well done, Simon.”
“I think I scared him, though.”
“It’d scare me, too.”
“Penny, I…”
“What?”
“Do you think he’s right?”
“I just said I didn’t.”
“No. About … me being a danger to Watford. A danger to—” I look over at the first year tables. They’ve all skipped sandwiches and are eating big bowls of jam roly-poly. “—everyone.”
Penny starts tearing at her sandwich again. “Of course not.”
“Penelope.”
She sighs. “You pulled back, didn’t you? This morning? When have you ever hurt anyone but yourself?”
“Smoke and mirrors, Penny—should I make a list? I’ll start with the decapitations. I’ll start with yesterday.”
“Those were battles, and they don’t count.”
“I think they count.”
She folds her arms again. “They count differently.”
“It’s not even just that,” I say. “It’s … I’m a target, aren’t I? The Humdrum only attacks me when I’m at Watford, and he only attacks Watford when I’m here.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“So?”
“Well, you can’t help that.”
“I can,” I say. “I could go away.”
“No.”
“Compelling argument, Pen.” I spread butter on my third ham and cheese roll. My hands are shaking.
“No. Simon. You can’t just go away. You shouldn’t. Look, if you’re a target, then I’m the most at risk. I spend the most time with you.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean, look at me—I’m fine.”
I look at her.
“I’m fine, Simon. Even Baz is fine, and he’s constantly stuck with you.”
“I feel like you’re glossing over all the times you’ve nearly died just because you were with me. The Humdrum kidnapped me a few months ago, and you got dragged along.”
“Thank Morgana I did.”
She’s looking in my eyes, so I try not look away. Sometimes I’m glad Penny wears glasses; her eye contact is so fierce, it’s good to have a buffer.
“I told the Mage no,” I repeat.
“Good.” she says. “Keep telling him.”
“Nan!” A little girl’s shout tears through our conversation, and I’m already whispering the incantation to summon my blade. Across the hall, the girl—a second or third year—is running towards a shimmery figure at the door.
“Oh…,” Penelope says, awed.
The figure fades in and out, like Princess Leia’s hologram. When the girl reaches it—it looks like an older woman in a white trouser suit—it kneels down and catches her. They huddle together in the archway. Then the figure fades out completely. The girl stands, shaking, and a few of her friends run to her, jumping up and down.
“So cool,” Penelope says. She turns to me and sees my blade. “Great snakes, Simon, put that away.”