Baz fell in love with what I was—power and potential unchecked. Nuclear bombs are nothing but potential.

Now I’m what comes after.

Now I’m the three-headed frog. The radioactive fallout.

I think Baz would have broken up with me by now if he didn’t feel so sorry for me. (And if he hadn’t promised to love me. Magicians get hung up on honour.)

So I’ll be the one to do it. I can do it. One time, an orc-upine shot a needle into my shoulder, and I tore it out with my own teeth—I can handle pain.

I just …

I wanted a few more nights of this. Of him being here in the room with me, mine on the surface at least.

I’ll never have someone like Baz again. There is no one like Baz; it’s like dating someone out of a legend. He’s a heroic vampire, a gifted magician. He’s dead handsome. (I used to be someone out of a legend. I was Foretold, you know? I used to be part of the oral tradition.)

I wanted a few more nights of this.…

But I hate watching Baz suffer. I hate being the reason he suffers.

“Baz,” I say. I sit up and set down my can of cider. (Baz hates cider, even the smell of it.)

He’s standing at the front door. “Yes?”

I swallow. “When someone shows you who they are—”

Penny bursts in then, jamming Baz’s shoulder with the door.

“For Crowley’s sake, Bunce!”

“I’ve got it!” Penny drops her backpack. She’s wearing a baggy purple T-shirt, and her dark brown hair is scraped into a messy knot at the top of her head.

“Got what?” Baz frowns.

“We”—she points at Baz and me both—“are going on holiday!”

I rub my palms into my eyes. They’re crunchy with sleep, even though I’ve been up for hours. “Not going on holiday,” I mumble.

“To America!” she persists. She pushes my feet off the sofa, and sits on the arm, facing me. “To see Agatha!”

Baz barks out a laugh. “Ha! Does Agatha know we’re coming?”

“It’ll be a surprise!” Penny says.

“Surprise!” Baz singsongs. “It’s your ex-boyfriend and his boyfriend and that girl you never liked very much!”

“Agatha likes me fine!” Penny sounds offended. “She’s just not an effusive person.”

Baz snorts. “She seemed pretty effusive about getting the fuck out of England and away from magic.”

“I’m worried about her, if you must know. She hasn’t been returning my texts.”

“Because she doesn’t like you, Bunce.”

I look up at Penelope. “When did you last hear from Agatha?”

“A few weeks ago. Normally she’d have texted me back by now. Even if it’s just to tell me to leave her alone. And she hasn’t been posting as many photos of Lucy”—Agatha’s little dog—“on Instagram. I think she might be lonely. Depressed.”

“Depressed,” I say.

“So, is this a holiday?” Baz asks. “Or an intervention?” He’s leaning against the door with his arms crossed and his shirtsleeves pushed up. Baz always looks like he’s in an ad for expensive watches. Even when he isn’t wearing one.

“Why can’t it be both?” Penny says. “We’ve always wanted to take a road trip across America.”

Baz tilts his head. “Have we?”

Penny looks at me and smiles. “Simon and I have.”

She’s right, we have. And for a moment, I can see it: The three of us, speeding down some abandoned motorway—no, highway—in an old convertible. I’m driving. We’re all wearing sunglasses. We’re listening to The Doors, and Baz is complaining about it. But he’s got his shirt unbuttoned to his navel, so I’m not complaining about anything. The sky is huge and blue and full of lens flare. America …

My wings shudder. That happens now when I’m uncomfortable. “We can’t go to America.”

Penny kicks me. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll never make it through airport security.” My tail is mostly squashed beneath me at the moment, but I flick the end up around my thigh to remind her it’s there.

“I’ll coat you with spells,” she says.

“I don’t want to be coated with spells.”

“I’ve been working on a new one, Simon, it’s a thing of beauty—”

“Eight hours on an aeroplane with my wings bunched up…”

“The new spell makes them disappear,” she grins.

I look up at her, startled. “I don’t want them to disappear.”

That’s a lie; I want them gone. I want to be myself again. I want to be free. But … I can’t. Yet. I can’t explain why not. (Even to myself.)

“Temporarily,” Penny says. “I think it will just make them go away for a while, until the spell wears off.”

“What about this?” I flick my tail again.

“We’ll have to use another spell. Or you can tuck it.”

America …

I never really thought I’d get to America—unless I had to chase the Humdrum there.

“The thing is…” Penny bites her bottom lip and wrinkles her nose, like she’s both ashamed and excited. “I’ve already bought the tickets!”