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I put my blade away on my own this time, without Pe
“It’s amazing,” she says. “Two Visitings in one day, and the Veil is just begi
When the ghost leaves, everybody starts hugging each other. (I think the seventh years have been passing around dandelion wine and Bacardi Breezers. But the three of us aren’t class monitors, so it’s not our problem.) Somebody starts singing the school song again, and we join in. Agatha sings, even though she’s self-conscious about her voice.
I’m happy.
I’m really happy.
I’m home.
* * *
I wake up a few hours later, and I think Baz must be back.
I can’t see him—I can’t see anything—but there’s someone in the room with me.
“Pe
Maybe it’s the Mage again. Or the Humdrum! Or that thing I dreamt I saw by the window last night, which I’m only now remembering …
I’ve never been attacked in my room before—this would be a first.
I sit up and turn on the lights without trying. That happens sometimes, with small spells, when I’m stressed. It’s not supposed to. Pe
I still don’t see anything, though I think I hear a rustling sound and a sort of moaning. The windows are both open. I get up and look outside, then close them. I check under the beds. I risk an “Olly olly oxen free!”—then a “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” that sends all my clothes flying out of the wardrobe. I’ll put them away tomorrow.
I go back to bed, shivering. It’s cold. And I still don’t feel alone.
15
SIMON
Baz isn’t in our room when I wake up.
* * *
I look for him in the dining hall at breakfast, but he’s not there either.
His name is called during my first lesson—Greek with the Minotaur. (Our teacher’s name is Professor Minos; we call him the Minotaur because he’s half-man, half-bull.)
He calls out Baz’s name four times. “Tyra
Agatha and I look around the room, then at each other.
Baz is supposed to be in Political Science with me, too. Pe
I’d be happy to spend my days helping Ebb herd goats if I live through the Humdrum, but Political Science is interesting enough, so I take it every year.
Baz always takes it, too. Probably because he expects to reclaim the throne someday …
Baz’s family used to run everything before the Mage came to power.
Magicians don’t have kings and queens, but the Pitches are the nearest thing we have to a royal family—they probably would have crowned themselves at some point if they’d ever expected anyone to challenge their authority.
Baz’s mum was the headmistress at Watford before the Mage, which made her the most important person in magic. (There’s a hall near the Mage’s office with portraits of previous headmasters; it’s like a Pitch family tree.) It was actually her death that changed everything—that brought the Mage to power.
When the Humdrum killed Headmistress Pitch by sending vampires into Watford, everyone saw that the World of Mages had to change. We couldn’t just keep on as we were, letting the Humdrum and the dark creatures pick us off one by one.
We had to get organized.
We had to think about defence.
The Mage was elected Mage, head of the Coven, in an emergency session, and he was also made Watford’s interim headmaster. (That’s technically still his title.) He immediately started his reforms.
Whether he’s been successful or not depends on who you ask.…
The Humdrum’s still out there.
But nobody’s died on school grounds since the Mage took over. And I’m still alive, so I guess I’m inclined to say he’s doing a good job.
A few years ago, we had to write essays for Poli Sci about the Mage’s ascendancy. Baz’s practically called for revolt. (Which took bottle, I thought. Demanding that your headmaster step down in the text of a school assignment.)
Baz has always played a strange game: publicly expressing his family’s politics—which are basically “Down with the Mage! Peacefully and legally!”—like he has nothing to hide, while his family leads an actual covert, dangerous war against us.
If you ask the Pitches why they hate the Mage, they start talking about “the old ways” and “our magickal heritage” and “intellectual freedom.”
But everyone knows they just want to be in charge again. They want Watford to go back to the way it used to be—a place for only the most rich and the most powerful.
The Mage eliminated school fees when he took over, and threw out the oral presentations and power trials to get in. Literally anyone who can speak with magic can attend Watford now, no matter their strength or skill—even if they’re half troll on their mother’s side or more mermaid than mage. The school had to build another hall of residence, Fraternity House, just to make room for everybody.
“Can’t be too picky with ca
He just hates being treated like another student, instead of the heir apparent. If his mother were still headmistress, he’d probably get his own room and whatever else he wanted.…
I shouldn’t think like that. It’s awful that his mum died. Just because I’ve never had parents doesn’t mean I can’t understand how much it would hurt to lose one.
Baz doesn’t show up to Political Science, so I keep an eye on his best friend, Niall, instead. Niall doesn’t flinch when Baz’s name is called, but he looks over at me, like he’s trying to say he knows I’m onto them and that he gives exactly zero fucks.
I corner Niall after our lesson: “Where is he?”
“Your dick? Haven’t seen it. Have you asked Ebb?”
(Honestly. I’m not sure why goatherds take such crap for being perverts. Cowboys seem to get off scot-free.)
“Where’s Baz?” I say.
Niall tries to get past me, but I’m impossible to get past if I make the effort. It’s not that I’m big—I’m just bold. And when people look at me, they tend to see everything I’ve killed before.
Niall stops and hikes his bag up on his shoulder. He’s a pale, weedy boy with brown eyes that he spells a muddy blue. Waste of magic. He sneers: “What’s it to you, Snow?”
“He’s my roommate.”
“I’d think you’d be enjoying the solitude.”
“I am.”
“So?”
I step out of Niall’s way. “If he’s pla
“So noted.”
“I mean it!” I shout after him.
“Your sincerity is also noted!”
* * *
By di
“He might just be on holiday or something,” Pe
“Why would he still be on holiday?”
“His family travels,” Agatha offers.
Oh, really? I want to say. Is that what you talk about alone in the woods? Your shared love of travel? I rip off a chunk of bread and knock over my milk. Pe
“He wouldn’t miss school,” I say, picking up my glass. Pe
Nobody argues with me. Baz has always ranked first in our class. Pe