over his crossed legs, his elbows flaring out. “He thought he could terrify my parents, so they’d co-operate with his latest campaign. It must drive him mad to see me at school and know I got away from him! Why didn’t I tell you? ‘Hey, Simon, your Jedi master is out to get me, do we still have a truce?’”
“How did you get away?” I ask.
“Fiona found me. She’s fearless.”
“That’s why you were so thin,” I say. “And pale. And why you’re still limping. Did they hurt you?”
He sits back, looking down at his lap. “Not intentionally, I don’t think. They did something to my leg when they caught me, and it didn’t get a chance to heal.”
“You should go see my dad,” Agatha says.
“Is he a vampire doctor now?”
“Was there a ransom?” Penny asks.
“Yeah,” Baz says. “My family wouldn’t pay it. Pitches don’t negotiate for hostages.”
“If I’m ever kidnapped at the club,” Agatha says, “tell my parents to pay the ransom.”
“My aunt found me with a souped-up finding spell,” Baz says. “She canvassed most of London.”
“I would have helped,” I say. “It wouldn’t have taken six weeks with me helping.”
Baz is scornful. “You never would have helped my family.”
“I would! It was driving me mental not knowing where you were. I thought you were going to jump out from every corner.”
“It wasn’t the Mage…,” Penny says. Thoughtfully.
“This is why I didn’t tell you lot,” Baz says. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. You’re so convinced that the Mage is a hero—”
“No,” Penny cuts him off. “It wasn’t the Mage, Baz—it was the murderer!”
“I thought it was numpties…,” Agatha says.
“It was the same person who sent vampires after your mother!” Penny says, jumping to her feet. “They knew that the Veil was lifting, and that there was a good chance your mum would come back to talk to you. It was a classic Visit—a dangerous secret, a crime against justice. The traitor was worried that Natasha Pitch might come back, and knew that she’d come back to you. So he—or she, I guess—hid you. This used to happen all the time! There’s a family in Scotland who lost a different family member every twenty years because the murderer kept killing the person most likely to avenge the previous deaths. No one wanted a ransom for you, Baz—they just wanted you tucked away until the Visitings were over.”
Baz looks at her. Licks his lips. “Not the Mage?” he asks.
“The murderer,” Penny says—looking all too pleased about it, considering that murderer is still at large.
“If that’s true,” Agatha says, “then we need to tell the Mage about all of this. Immediately.”
66
PENELOPE
All right, fine. It was probably a mistake to bring Agatha.
But it had gone on too long, all this tension between her and Simon. I didn’t want them to go all year without sorting it out.
And I thought maybe a good mystery might distract her from—well, from everything else. I should have remembered that Agatha doesn’t appreciate a good mystery.
And also that she’s the world’s worst snitch.
“We have to tell the Mage,” she says, crossing her arms and then her legs. “You all know it.”
She’s doing her best not to look at either of the boys.… I also should have thought through their whole love-triangle dynamic before I dragged Agatha to Baz’s house. But their whole love-triangle dynamic is so persistently stupid, you can’t blame me for blocking it out.
“Agatha,” I say, “we’re just starting to make some progress here.”
“Towards what?” she asks. “Infiltrating the numpties?”
“We could just talk to them,” Simon offers. “Can numpties talk?”
“Barely,” Baz says. “And what are we going to ask them—‘Lose something?’”
“We’re going to ask who hired them to kidnap you,” I say.
“They might not feel co-operative,” Baz says. “My aunt did kill a few of them.”
Simon looks horrified. “Your aunt murdered numpties?”
“In self-defence!”
“Did they attack her?”
“In my self-defence,” Baz says. “Are you really taking their side? They held me hostage for six weeks.”
“Your aunt should have asked for help!”
“If you’d have been there, Snow, all the numpties would be dead.”
“Maybe.” Simon sticks his chin out. “But it wouldn’t have taken six weeks.”
“So we’ll interrogate the remaining numpties,” I say.
“We will not,” Agatha says. “We’ll tell the Mage and let him handle this—it’s his job to handle it. We’re talking about kidnapping! And murder!”
“Look here, Wellbelove,” Baz says. “We’re not going to the Mage. We’ve all already agreed.”
“Well, I didn’t agree.” Agatha looks furious, and also fed up, and also I think she was supposed to be