SIMON
I spend an hour or so with Agatha, but we don’t say much. I don’t tell her about the Mage.
(What if Agatha agreed with the Mage? What if she wanted me to go, too? I’d want her to go, if she were in danger at Watford. Hell, she is in danger here. Because of me.) When I get back to my room, Penny’s there already, sprawled out with a book on Baz’s bed.
“So you and Agatha talked?” she asks.
“We talked.”
“Did she explain? About Baz?”
“I told her not to.”
Penny sets down her book. “You don’t want to know why your girlfriend was snogging your sworn enemy?”
“I don’t know about ‘sworn,’” I say. “I’ve never taken an oath.”
“I’m pretty sure Baz has.”
“Anyway, they weren’t snogging.”
Penny shakes her head. “If I caught Micah holding hands with Baz, I’d want an explanation.”
“So would I.”
“Simon.”
“Penny. Of course you’d want an explanation. That’s you. You like to demand explanations and then tell everyone why their explanations are crap.”
“I do not.”
“You do. But I—look, I just don’t care. It’s behind us. Agatha and I are fine.”
“I wonder if it’s behind Baz.”
“Fuck Baz, he’ll do whatever he can to get to me.”
And he’ll start just as soon as he shows up. Which could be anytime …
Almost everyone else is here already. Nobody wants to miss the welcome-back picnic on the Great Lawn tonight. It’s always a big to-do. Games. Fireworks. Spectacle magic.
Maybe Baz will miss the picnic; he’s never missed it before, but it’s a nice thought.
*
Penny and I meet Agatha out on the Lawn.
I don’t see Baz, but there are so many people, it’d be easy for him to avoid me if he wanted. (Baz normally makes sure that I see him.) The littluns are already playing games and eating cake, some of them wearing their Watford uniforms for the first time. Hats sliding off, ties crooked. There are races and singing. I get a bit choked up during the school song; there’s this line about “those golden years at Watford / those glowing, magickal years”—and it makes me think again about how this is it. Every day I have this year will be the last day like it.
Last back-to-school picnic.
Last first day back.
I make a pig of myself, but Penny and Agatha don’t mind, and the egg and cress sandwiches are to die for. Plus roast chicken. Pork pie. Spice cakes with sour lemon frosting. And jugs of cold milk and raspberry cordial.
I keep bracing for Baz to show up and ruin everything. I keep looking over my shoulder. (Maybe this is part of his plan—to ruin my night by making me wonder how he’s going to ruin it.) I think Agatha is worried about seeing him, too.
One thing I’m not worried about is the Humdrum attacking. He sent flying monkeys to attack the picnic at the start of our fourth year, and the Humdrum never tries the same thing twice. (I guess he could send something other than flying monkeys.…) After the sun sets, the littluns all head back to their rooms, and the seventh and eighth years stay out on the Lawn. The three of us find a spot, and Penny spells her jacket into a green blanket for us to lie on. Which Agatha says is a waste of magic when there are perfectly good blankets just inside. “Your jacket is going to get grass stains,” she says.
“It’s already green,” Penelope dismisses her.
It’s a warm night, and Penelope and Agatha are both good at astronomy. We lie on our backs, and they point out the stars. “I should get my crystal ball and tell your fortunes,” Penelope says, and Agatha and I both groan.
“I’ll save you the trouble,” I say. “You’re going to see me bathed in blood, but you won’t be able to tell whose it is. And you’ll see Agatha looking beautiful and swathed in light.”