“—he tore a hole in the magickal atmosphere!” Penny says.
“A Simon-shaped hole…,” Baz agrees.
I hold my head in both hands, but it still doesn’t make sense. “Are you saying I created an evil twin?”
“More of an impression,” Baz says.
“Or an echo,” Penny says, still awestruck.
Baz tries to explain it again: “It’s like you tore so much magic out at once, you left fingerprints.… Whole-being prints.”
“But—,” I say.
“But…” Penny shakes her head. “Why didn’t the magickal atmosphere just accommodate Simon the way it accommodates every powerful magician? It’s a balanced system.”
“So is the earth,” Baz says, “but if you clear-cut a forest, the ecosystem doesn’t just bounce back.”
“This doesn’t make sense!” I say. “Even if I did tear a me-shaped hole, how did it come alive? And why is it a monster?”
“Is it alive?” Penny asks.
“And is it a monster?” Baz wonders.
“We’re talking about the Insidious Humdrum!” I shout.
“We’re talking about a hole,” Baz says calmly. “Think about it. What do holes want?”
“To be filled?” I guess. I know I’m not keeping up.
“Crowley, no,” he says. “To grow. Everything wants to grow. If you were a hole, all you’d want is to get bigger.”
“That’s it, Baz!” Penny throws her arms around him. “You’re a genius!”
He shoves her off after a second. “Careful. I’m also a vampire.”
I slump against one of the walls; a few pins fall to the floor. “I still don’t get it.”
“Simon,” Penny says, “you’re too powerful. You use too much magic at once. The magickal atmosphere can’t take it—it just collapses when you go off.”
“Theoretically,” Baz says.
“Theoretically,” she agrees.
“But…,” I say. There must be more “but’s.” “Why does the Humdrum keep trying to kill me? Why send every dark creature in the UK after me?”
“He isn’t trying to kill you,” Baz says. “He’s trying to get you to go off.”
“And use more magic,” Penny says.
Baz holds his hand up to the maps behind him. “To make a bigger hole.”
I stare at them.
They stare at me.
They still seem so proud of themselves—and excited—as if they’re not staring at the greatest threat the magickal world has ever known.
“We have to tell the Mage,” I say.
Baz’s face falls. “Over my dead body.”
75
BAZ
“If this is true,” Snow says, “if even a little bit of it is true—we can’t keep it a secret. We have to go to the Mage.”
I knew this was coming.
I knew this would be his solution.
I’ve known from the beginning that Simon would go running for the Mage when things got serious.
“The fuck we do,” I say. “We have to go to the numpties.”
“The numpties,” Snow says. As if he can’t believe what I’m saying. “You just told me that I’m destroying the World of Mages, and now you want to go numpty hunting?”
“We have an agreement,” I remind him. I try to sound urgent, not desperate.
Snow looks at me funny—like maybe I’m talking about how we’re boyfriends now. As if that even matters anymore.
I sigh bitterly. “Not that agreement, you twit—you promised to help me find my mother’s killer.”
“I will help you find your mother’s killer,” Snow says, “after we figure out how to stop this.” His head falls back. “Maybe. I mean. If I’m still alive then, if the Mage doesn’t decide the answer is just ending me.”
“Simon,” Bunce admonishes.
“He’ll have to get in line,” I say, “once my family finds out what’s happening—once the whole World of Mages finds out. The Old Families already think you and the Mage are scheming to take their magic. The person who takes you out will be given a crown.”
“Baz,” Penny says.
“I suppose you think it will be you,” Snow says, narrowing his eyes.
“We have a truce,” I say, my voice rising. “The shit has already hit the fan, and if we don’t solve my mother’s murder now, we never will. And you promised, Simon. I promised.”
“There are more important things to worry about right now!” Snow shouts at me.
“Nothing is more important than my mother!”
76
BAZ
I only remember where the numpties live because Fiona said, “Christ, what a mess, and right under Blackfriars Bridge—this city has gone straight to hell,” when she was dragging me to her car.
It doesn’t take long to get to Blackfriars from Hounslow. It’s Christmas Day, and there’s no one out. I park the car and clear a path in the snow to the head of the bridge.
I’m starting to feel a bit panicky.
I know I shouldn’t have come alone, but anyone I could have asked for help would have dragged me back to the matter at hand—the fact that my family is now magickally homeless. Even Fiona wouldn’t have listened to me today.