“He never misused me, sir—are people saying that?”
“No, I mean—Well, what I mean to say, Simon, is that we still don’t understand the scope of the Mage’s corruption, but we do know he was trying to steal your power. Possibly he did steal it.”
“He didn’t, I gave it away!”
“The bottom line is, he owes you, Simon. He owes you more than this.
There’s no way that he—that anyone—can make up for the way he manipulated you, the years you spent furthering his interests.”
“He didn’t have to manipulate me. I wanted to help.”
“You were a child—”
“No, I was the Chosen One!”
Dr. Wellbelove looks down. And I look away. Both of us, embarrassed and ashamed. I was never the Chosen One. That was just another of the Mage’s lies. And Dr. Wellbelove and I were both fools to go along with it.
“It’s been decided by the Coven,” Dr. Wellbelove says. “The estate is yours, Simon.”
I lift up my chin. “I’m not the Coven’s concern anymore. I’m not a magician.”
Dr. Wellbelove sighs forcefully. “For Merlin’s sake, lad, just take the money.”
3
SHEPARD
I have known Penelope Bunce about a week.
In that week, I’ve tangled with a were-skunk, incited a vampire gang war, and been spelled stupid at least twice.
I’m having the time of my life.
We’re in London now. She insisted on bringing me home with her, with all of them, as soon as she realized I was cursed.
What kind of girl brings you home because you’re cursed? I mean, that’s something I would do, but I’m pretty foolish about these things—which is how I got cursed in the first place.
She faked my passport. She faked my plane tickets. She and Baz will both cast spells in front of me now like it’s nothing. I never thought I’d be this in with a group of magicians. Nobody gets in with magicians!
I mean, I think my heart will burst if I betray them … Literally. There was a magical handshake, and I crossed my heart and hoped to die. But I was glad to do it. I’m seeing things no Talker ever gets to see—no “Normal,” that’s what the magicians call us here. That’s what Penelope calls me half the time.
“The Normal.” Like she’s only ever met one.
“Well,” she says now, letting me into her apartment. “Here we are.”
It’s just the two of us. We all got out of San Diego in a hurry. I guess Baz’s aunt has been arrested or something? Something about their old school. He took off as soon as we landed at Heathrow. And Simon and Agatha went straight to Agatha’s house; she was pretty shook up.
We’re all pretty shook up. I get the feeling that last week was intense, even by magician and vampire and dragon-boy standards. “I could sleep for a month,” I say, sitting on Penelope’s couch.
“You can sleep tomorrow,” she says. “We’re going to see my parents as soon as I’ve had a shower.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes. Shepard. You’ve lost your soul to a demon.”
I shrug. “Right. But that’s not … urgent. ”
“How is your spending eternity in demonic service not urgent?”
“It’s eternity,” I say. “Not tomorrow.”
“Unless you get hit by a bus tomorrow.”
“Are you going to throw me in front of a bus?”
“No, but on that note: Remember to look right when you cross the street.
Americans are always walking into traffic…”
“Penelope. I’ve already been living like this for two years.”
“Which is why we’re going directly to my parents’ house. Then you’ll have your soul back, and you can die whenever you want.”
“Your parents are going to unbind me from a demon over dinner?”
“Well”—she’s looking through a stack of mail, twirling the end of her long, brown ponytail in her fingers—“there probably won’t be dinner unless we bring it. No one in my house likes to cook. But otherwise, yes. My mother is the smartest and possibly the most powerful mage in all the World of Mages.”
“Is she some sort of queen?”
“What? No.” Penelope looks up at me, disgusted. “Mages don’t have queens.”
“Oh, right, pardon me for making that assumption in a country that actually has a monarchy.”
“My mother is a magickal historian, and a headmistress, and an elected official.”