I wonder where the Mage’s capes went … And his knee-high boots with the big leather cuffs. Probably to his cousins in Wales. He had a belt I always coveted. Brown leather with a silver buckle that looked like a yew tree.
Siegfried and Roy, I’m losing my mind.
I eat the scones—sour cherry, you’ll never find anything like them anywhere else—then pick up all the crumbs from the floor. I wonder what they’ve done with Smith. Am I under arrest, too? Can Normals be convicted of magickal crimes?
I take down a book about dragons and flip through it, looking for one with wings like mine. I’d call Baz—or Penny—but my phone is dead. （I need a new battery.）
When the door finally opens again, it’s Headmistress Bunce and Jamie Salisbury.
“Wait out here a for a minute, would you, Jamie?” She pulls a chair outside for him, then closes the door. “Sorry that took so long, Simon.”
She walks over to her desk and leans back against it, studying me through her thick glasses.
“The Coven may call for you to testify at Smith’s and his godfather’s trials, but I think I got the gist of what happened from Penelope and Baz.”
I nod. “Can I go, then?”
“Not yet. I want to spend a little more time with the question of your magic…”
“There’s no question left, Headmistress. I don’t have any.”
She moves behind her desk, taking a wand from a drawer and holding it out to me. It’s bone with a wooden handle.
I take it. “This is my wand.”
“You left it in your room in Mummers House.”
“I didn’t need it anymore.”
She pulls her own wand from her waistband and comes back around to me. “Simon, it’s one thing not to be able to cast spells. That’s Normal. But it’s quite another to be resistant to magic. I want to make sure there’s nothing getting between you and the magickal atmosphere.”
“Like what?” I ask.
She shrugs. “A curse, a dead spot…”
“You think I’m a walking dead spot?”
“I’d like to test a few things.”
I do what she asks. I point and repeat. I let her cast spells on me that I’ve never heard before. Nothing happens—I’m inert.
But I’m not sucking up her magic; that’s a good sign.
Eventually, she folds her arms. She’s standing in front of me, frowning up into my face. Her hair is especially huge at the moment. “Martin has a theory,” she says, “that Smith-Richards was allowing people to tap their magickal potential. The way you’d tap a birch tree. What did he tap in you, Simon…”
“I don’t know, Professor Bunce—I mean, Headmistress.”
She sighs. “You’re cursed with usefulness, aren’t you?”
“I don’t feel very useful.”
“Penelope says you have a new flat.”
“Yes.”
“I’d like you to go home to your new flat and get some rest.” She turns away from me before I can reply, and opens the door. “Come on in, Jamie.”
I get up to leave.
“Simon,” Penny’s mum says, “don’t run off yet. I’d like you to see Mr.
Salisbury back to London.”
“Yeah, sure—I’ll wait outside.”
“You can stay,” Jamie says. “Mitali’s just going to test my magic. I don’t think it’ll be much of a show.”
Headmistress Bunce and Jamie Salisbury seem to know each other. She’s gentle with him, patient, running him through most of the same tests she did me. I wonder how they met. It couldn’t have been at Watford—he never went here.
I don’t know what Jamie looks like on a normal day, but he looks done in right now. His face is shiny, his eyes are puffy. He needs a shave. He’s having trouble following Headmistress Bunce’s instructions. “Sorry, Mitali.
I’m so shagged out, I’m not sure I could cast a spell even if I had magic.”
The headmistress lowers her wand. She looks apologetic. （I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Penny’s mum look apologetic before.） “You should go home,”
she says. “I’ll follow up in a few days—with both of you. Dr. Wellbelove will want to see you, as well. This could still all be temporary.”
“I’ll be at my mum’s,” Jamie says. Well, that’s good news.
“I’ll take you,” I say. “We should get you something to eat first.”