Wayward Son - Rainbow Rowell Page 0,56
non-evil variety. We went to school with a few pixies and brownies, there was a centaur the year ahead of us—but they were all at least part magician. (How does a magician fall in love with a centaur? What do they even have in common?) (“The top half,” Simon said, when I tried to discuss this with him.)
Shepard, however, has never met a magickal creature he didn’t strike up a friendship with. If he can be believed.
“You have not gone backpacking with a sasquatch,” I said after five or six hours of this nonsense.
“Well, I told you, he doesn’t carry a backpack. He’s got this pouch, and all that’s in it is a comb and a carving knife. I gave him my toothbrush, and he was pleased as punch with it. I need to get back up there, get him another toothbrush.…”
“How could you even have time for all these adventures? You’re no older than us. Don’t you have university?”
“I’m twenty-two. How old are you?”
“None of your business.”
“Right, well, I put off school for a while. I’m going to go back when I know what I want to study. In the meantime, the road is my teacher.”
“The road. The road is your distraction, I’d wager. You’d learn more from the world if you knew more about the world.”
“Ha, that’s what my mom says.”
“Your mum is clearly cleverer than you.”
“No argument here. What’s your mom like?”
“Pfft.”
We’re in Arizona, I think, on a dark road. We’ve been staying off the main motorway, but we’re never far from towns and people.
“What we’re about to attempt,” the Normal says, “isn’t exactly legal.”
“I thought you were Mr. Law and Order.”
“I’m Mr. Don’t Steal Cars, Counterfeit Money, or Commit Other Acts of Grand Larceny. But this won’t hurt anybody. We need to get in to see my friend, but it’s sorta after visiting hours—”
“Just tell us what you need,” Baz cuts in.
“A few ‘Open Sesame’s should do it.”
“Aghh,” I groan. “Don’t name spells. You shouldn’t know any spells.”
“I heard you use it back at the motel! And besides, everyone knows ‘Open Sesame’ is a spell. It’s probably a spell because everyone knows it. Have you ever thought about that?”
I’m hiding my face. I want to cover my ears. “Who explained the nature of our magic to you? Please tell me, so I can make sure they face an international tribunal.” There’s no such thing as an international tribunal, but I like the idea of muddying Shepard up with false information.
“Fine,” Baz says. “Just get on with it. We don’t have time to argue.”
We turn onto a larger road, following signs towards something called the Hoover Dam. I think I’ve heard of it.
I glance out the back window. Simon is sitting up, leaning eagerly on the wall of the truck bed. There doesn’t seem to be any part of this trip that he doesn’t relish. (Aside from the times when we’ve almost died.) (And, honestly, he seemed to enjoy those, too.)
“Maybe you could make us harder to see,” Shepard says. “There are cameras.”
Baz casts, “Through a glass, darkly!” on the truck.
Shepard nods. “Cool. Now those gates…”
“Open Sesame!” I say. It comes out flat and sarcastic, so I have to cast it again.
“There might be guards,” Shepard says, squinting into the darkness ahead of us.
“I’ll take care of it.” Baz is all business. “Should I put them to sleep?”
“Whoa.” Shepard holds out his arm. “I don’t want anyone to accidentally fall asleep on their control panel and blow up the whole dam.…”
“I doubt there’s a ‘BLOW UP THE DAM’ button,” I say.
Baz is getting impatient. “I’ll take care of it.”
We park, and Simon hops over the side of the truck. “What’s the plan? Are we going to see the dam? Wicked. Did we sneak in?”
Baz grabs Simon’s T-shirt and pulls him close, inspecting him for damage. “Are you all right? Are you thirsty? Are you dying of exposure?”
“I’m fine,” Simon says. “You should ride back there with me when we leave. Now that the sun’s down. You’ve never seen so many stars.” Simon spreads his wings like he’s stretching. Baz brushes some dust off Simon’s shoulders. Baz seems timid, like he isn’t sure he’s permitted this much tenderness. It’s hard to watch, so I look at Shepard. He’s watching them, too. I shove his arm. “So what’s the plan?”
Shepard takes a bottled water from the back of the truck. “My friend lives in the water,” he says. “Well, more or less. We just have to walk out onto