I left my wand at home, too; my mother would faint if she knew. She keeps asking if I’ve met any magicians. California is very popular with the magickal set, she says. There’s even a club in Palm Springs.
I don’t care. I live in San Diego. My friends work in restaurants and strip mall office buildings, and I date boys who wear dark stocking caps, even on warm days. On weeknights, I study, and on weekends, we go the beach. I spend the money my parents give me on tuition and tacos.
It’s. All. So. Normal.
The only magician I still talk to, other than my parents and Helen, is Penelope. She texts. I tried not texting back, but that doesn’t work with her.
She tells me how Simon is doing. She told me about the trials—I thought I might have to go back to testify, but the Coven let me do it in writing.
That’s the closest I’ve come to talking to anyone about what happened.
About what I saw.
About Ebb.
I never knew Ebb. She was Simon’s friend. I always thought she was barmy—living in that shack, spending her days with goats.
But I know more about her now.
She was a powerful magician, but she didn’t do what powerful magicians do. She didn’t want to be in charge. She didn’t want to control people. Or fight. She just wanted to live at Watford and take care of goats.
And they wouldn’t let her.
Like, they couldn’t just let her be. She died in a war she had nothing to do with. There’s no opting out of the World of Mages. There’s no “no, thank you.”
I don’t know why she came back to save my life. I’d hardly even spoken to her.
Penny says I should honour Ebb’s memory by helping to build a better World of Mages.…
But maybe I’ll honour her memory by fucking right off, the way she tried to.
She told me to run.
*
I still have the picture of the Mage and Lucy. I stuck it in the mirror on my bedroom door. And I think about her sometimes when I’m getting dressed.
She’s the one who got away.
I wonder if she’s still here, in California. If she’s got a family now. Maybe I’ll run into her at Trader Joe’s. (I won’t tell her that I named my dog after her.) I think I’m going to send the photo to Simon someday.
I’m not ready to talk to Simon yet, and I’m not sure he’s ready to get a photo of the Mage in the mail.…
But I think Simon might be the only person who really loved the Mage. I know he killed him, but he’s probably the person who was saddest to see him go.
SIMON
Even though I’m the only one here with no magic, no one is helping me carry boxes up four flights of stairs.
“You,” I say to Baz, letting a box drop on the couch, “even have superstrength. You could probably do this in half as many trips.”
“Yes—” He pulls the lid off his Starbucks cup, so he can lick the whipped cream directly. “—but then your Normal neighbours would start to wonder, and they’re already curious about the handsome young man haunting your door day and night.”
“The neighbours don’t even know we’re moving in. They’re all at work.”
“Well, they will wonder, once they get a look at us. We’re cool and mysterious and better-looking than any couple has a right to be.” He looks up at me and pulls the cup away from his mouth. “Speaking of, come here, Snow—one of your wings is showing.”
I thought the wings would fade away or even fall off after I gave the Humdrum my magic. But Penny says I used my magic to make them, and just because I gave my magic away doesn’t mean everything I did with it is going to come undone.
I still have the tail, too. Which Baz won’t stop mocking:
“It’s not even a dragon tail—you gave yourself a cartoon devil’s tail.”
“I’m sure I could have it removed,” I say. “I could talk to Dr. Wellbelove.”
“Let’s not do anything hasty.”
Penny’s been casting These aren’t the droids you’re looking for on me every morning, so the Normals don’t notice my dragon parts, but the spell never holds all day. I’m afraid they’re going to pop out during a class.
“Just tell people you’re in a show,” Baz advised.