“You know what I mean,” Penny says. “Missing. Seriously missing.”
Was Baz dead? Wouldn’t his mother know if he were? Wouldn’t she have seen him behind the Veil? Maybe death is a big place. (It would have to be.) Maybe she’s been looking for Baz here because she hasn’t seen him yet on the other side.
I jab at my eggs a few times, then drop my fork.
In all of this, I’ve never seriously considered that Baz might be dead. Hiding, yes—plotting. Maybe even kidnapped or hurting, but … not dead.
He promised to make my life miserable.
When the doors to the dining hall fly open, it’s almost like I’m making it happen, like I’ve summoned it. Cold air pours into the room. It’s bright outside, in the courtyard, and at first, all we can see is the outline of a person.
This has happened so many times since school started that no one is scared now, not even the littluns.
When the figure steps forward, I recognize him at once.
Tall. Black hair swept back from his forehead. Lips curled up in a sneer … I know that face as well as my own.
Baz.
I stand up too quickly, knocking my chair over. Across the room, a mug falls to the floor and shatters—I glance over and see that Agatha is standing, too.
Baz steps towards us.
Baz.
BOOK TWO
29
BAZ
It’s unnecessarily grandiose to use an Open Sesame on the doors, but I do it anyway because I know everyone will be in the dining hall, and I may as well make an entrance.
I wanted it this way. I wanted to be the only person who got to break the news that I’m back.
Snow is the first to react—leaps to his feet, sends furniture flying. It’s work not to roll my eyes. (It’s a bit of work not to stare at him. He’s thin. And drawn. Normally, he’d be back to clobbering weight by now.)
Dev and Niall, bless them, act like I’ve arrived eight minutes late to breakfast, instead of eight weeks. Dev nudges Niall, and Niall gives me a bored once-over, then moves the teapot away from my spot, which they’ve left empty. Good men.
I walk over to the serving table and make up a plate. I pretend I’m not ferociously hungry. (I feel like I’ll always be hungry now.)
Snow is still standing. His meddling sidekick is yanking on his sleeve, trying to get him to sit down. He should listen to her. Wait, what’s this?… Where’s Wellbelove in this pretty tableau?
I scan the room without turning my head. There she is, sitting on the other side of the room—trouble in paradise?—staring at me. They’re all staring at me. But I can tell Wellbelove expects something extra from me, so I give it to her. A long, cool look. Let her make what she wants of that; she will anyway.
I settle down at the table, and Dev pours me a cup of tea.
“Baz,” he says, smirking.
“Gentlemen,” I say. “What have I missed?”
30
BAZ
Snow stands again when I walk into our Greek classroom. I take my seat without looking his way. “Enough, Snow, I’m not the Queen.”
He doesn’t reply—he must still be working up to a bluster.
Snow blusters like no one else. But! I! I mean! Um! It’s just! It’s no wonder he can never spit out a spell.
The Minotaur folds his arms and snorts when he sees me. “Mr. Pitch,” he says. “I see you’ve decided to join us.”
“I have, sir.”
“We’ll have to discuss your plans to catch up.”
“Of course, sir. Though I think you’ll find I’m still quite ahead of the class; my mother always insisted on summer work in Greek and Latin.” It’s good to mention my mother with the older teachers. They all still remember her—I can see their heads start to dip into a bow.
The Minotaur worked on the grounds when my mother was headmistress; creatures weren’t allowed on staff then. I dare him to hold that against me.
I dare them fucking all.
“We shall see,” he says, narrowing his cow eyes.
I’m not lying. Greek won’t be a problem for me—and I’ll be fine in Latin, Magic Words and Elocution. Political Science could be a bear, depending on how much they’ve covered. Same for History and Astrology.
I’m going to have to break my back to get to first again, and I can’t imagine Coach Mac will let me back on the football team.…
They might all cut me some slack if I told them I’d been kidnapped.