Carry On

I cross my arms, too. “All right,” I say, “just … sit down, okay?”

“Why should I sit down?”

“Because you’re making me uncomfortable.”

“Good,” he says. “You should be glad I’m not making you bleed.”

“For Christ’s sake,” I say. I only swear like a Normal when I’m at my wit’s end. “Could you just calm down? This is important.”

Baz shakes his head, exasperated, but sits at the end of his bed, frowning at me. He has these droopy dog eyes that always look like they’re peeking out from under his eyelids, even when his eyes are wide open. And his lips naturally turn down at the corners. It’s like his face was designed for pouting.

I walk over to my book bag and pull out a notebook. I wrote down as much as I could the day after Baz’s mum came to see me; I thought I was writing it all down to share with the Mage.

I sit on my bed, facing him, and he reluctantly shifts to sit across from me.

“All right,” I say, “look. I don’t want to tell you this. I don’t even know if I should. But it’s your mum, and I don’t think it’s right to keep it from you.”

“What about my mother?” His arms unfold, and he leans forward, grabbing at my notebook.

I whip the notebook away. “I’m telling you, okay? Just listen.”

His eyes narrow.

I’m stupidly flustered. “When you were gone—you were gone when the Veil lifted.”

He guesses it immediately—his nostrils flare, and his eyes go a little wild—he’s so fucking smart, I don’t know how I’m ever going to get the best of him.

“My mother…,” he says.

“She was looking for you. She kept coming back. Here. Where were you that she couldn’t find you?”

“My mother came through the Veil?”

“Yeah. She said she was called here, to our room, that this was your place. And she was pretty hacked off that you weren’t here. Wanted to know whether I’d hurt you.”

“She talked to you?”

“Yeah. I mean—yes.” I run my hands through my hair. “She came looking for you and scared the living shit out of me, asking if I’d hurt you. And then she said that the Veil was closing.…” I look down at my notebook.

Baz grabs it from me, sca

“She said that…” My voice falters. “That her killer walks. That you should find Nicodemus and bring her peace.”

“Bring her peace?”

I don’t know what more to say. His face is in agony.

“But she killed the vampires,” he says.

“I know.”

“Does she mean the Humdrum?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me again.”

I look back down at my notes. “Her killer walks, but Nicodemus knows. Find Nicodemus and bring her peace.”

“Who’s Nicodemus?” Baz demands. Fierce and imperious, just like his mother.

“She didn’t say.”

“What else?” he asks. “Was there anything else?”

“Well … she kissed me.” My hand jerks up, and I brush my fingertips over my forehead. “She told me it was for you, to give to you.”

He clenches his fists at his sides. “Then what?”

“Then she left,” I say. “She came back one more time, that same night, the last night before the Veil fell”—Baz looks like he wants to choke me—“and she was different, sadder, like she was crying.” I look down at my notes. “And I couldn’t see her that time, but she said, ‘My son, my rosebud boy.’ She said that a few times, I think. And then she called me by my name and said she never would have left you. And then: ‘He said we were stars.’”

“Who said? Nicodemus?”

“I guess, I don’t know.”

Baz squeezes his fists tight, and his voice comes out of him in a tight roar. “Who. The fuck. Is Nicodemus.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I thought you’d know.”

He gets off the bed and starts prowling about the room. “My mother came back. She came back to see me. And you talked to her instead. Unbelievable.”

“Well, where were you? Why couldn’t she find you?”

“I was indisposed! It’s none of your business!”

“Well, I hope your secret trip was worth it!” I shout. “Because your mother came for you! She came and she came and she came—and you were off pla

He stops pacing, then charges towards me, his hands reaching for my neck. And I’m more scared for him than I am for myself, even though I know he wants to kill me. Because if he touches me, he’ll be cast out. The Anathema.

I jump to my feet and catch his wrists. They’re cold. “Baz, you don’t want to hurt me. Do you.” He strains against my grip. He’s panting with rage. “You don’t want to hurt me,” I say, trying to push him back. “Isn’t that right? I’m sorry. Look at me, I’m sorry.”

His grey eyes focus, and he steps back, snatching his arms away. We both glance around the room, waiting for the Anathema to kick in.

There’s a knock at the door, and we both jump.

“Simon?” I hear Pe

Baz arches an eyebrow, and I can practically hear him thinking, Interesting. I shove past him and open the door. “Pe

She’s been crying. She starts again—“Simon”—and rushes into my arms. I slowly put my arms around her and look up at Baz, waiting for him to raise the alarm.

He shakes his head, like it’s all too much for him. “I’ll leave you alone,” he says, sliding past us out the door. I hate to think of how he’ll use this against Penelope, or me—but right now I’ve got Pe

“Hey,” I say, patting her back. I’m not good at hugging, she knows that, but she must not care right now. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She pulls back and wipes her face on her sleeve. She’s still wearing her coat. “My mum…” Her face is all crumpled. She wipes it on her sleeve again.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s not hurt—nobody’s hurt. But she told me that Premal came yesterday.” Pe

“What? Why?”

“The Mage sent them. Premal said it was a routine search for ba

I pull my head back and hold on to her shoulders. “Hey,” I say, “I’m sure this is just something that got out of hand. We’ll talk to the Mage.”

She jerks away from me. “Simon—no. You can’t talk to him about this.”

“Pen. It’s the Mage. He’s not going to hurt your family. He knows you’re good.”

She shakes her head. “My mum made me promise not to tell you, Simon.”

“No secrets,” I say, suddenly defensive. “We have a pact.”

“I know! That’s why I’m here, but you ca

“Why didn’t she just let them search the house?”

“Why should she?”

“Because,” I say, “if the Mage is doing this, he has a reason. He doesn’t just hassle people. He doesn’t have time for that.”

“But … what if they found something?”

“At your house? They wouldn’t.”