Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3)(64)

People are standing up. Some of them are turning to me, curious again.

Some older lady hands me a leaflet. I should probably be leaning into this, trying to find out more about Jamie Salisbury. But I really just want to leave now.

Baz pulls me by the elbow. “Come on, let’s catch Daphne.”

I follow his lead, trying to find Daphne in the crowd. I don’t see her. But I do see someone else I recognize, walking quickly with his head down, at the edge of the room—Professor Bunce.





34

BAZ

I know Daphne saw me. She looked directly at me when that charlatan was fawning all over Simon. (That worked exactly as planned—Snow pretending to be interested. It was a Bunce-worthy idea.) As soon as said charlatan slinks offstage, I grab Simon and rush towards the front of the room, where my stepmother was sitting, hoping she won’t try to sneak away.

I recognize a few other people in the crowd, people I’d never even thought of as weak magicians. There was a girl sitting across from me who looked so familiar, but I couldn’t place her. I don’t think she went to Watford …

Smith-Richards seems to draw more women than men, which isn’t surprising, given his glossy appearance. His look is very— The Greatest Mage, a new fragrance from Ralph Lauren. He looks like Simon, frankly.

But more Simony than Simon. He looks like the guy who would get cast to play Simon in the Netflix series.

No bloody thank you.

Daphne isn’t trying to get away from me. She’s standing just where I saw her earlier, her arms open. “Basil!” she says, sweeping me into a hug. “I’m so happy you’re here. That you’ve even heard about Smith. This means his message is getting out.”

“Mum”—I’m holding her by her shoulders—“I came to see you, not him.

I’ve tried to call you so many times…”

“Oh, Baz,” she says, pulling away from me and frowning. “I was hoping you hadn’t come to fetch me.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve come to do. The girls miss you—they need their mother.”

Daphne looks around. There are people watching us, staring at Simon mostly. She pulls me farther out of the crowd. I pull Simon along with us.

“They need their mother to be strong,” Daphne says. “I’m doing the absolute best thing I can do for them by staying with Smith.”

“How can you think that?”

“You don’t understand, Basil; you’ve always been powerful. You’ve always lived up to your parents’ standards—to the world’s standards.”

“I think you know that’s not true,” I say meaningfully. Daphne knows I’m a vampire, even though she’d never say it out loud. And further, she knows I’m queer as a clockwork orange, and that we’re not allowed to say that out loud either.

She takes my hand. “I don’t want my children to live half a life. I don’t want to go on living half a life myself.”

“But you have a great life,” I say, and then immediately wish that I hadn’t, because who I am to say so?

Daphne smiles sadly at me.

“You have great kids,” I try again. “And they miss you.”

“I miss them, too,” she says. “And I’ll be home soon. Or I’ll bring them to stay with me. Smith hasn’t cast the spell on any children yet, but he’s considering it.”

I don’t even want to think about what that means. Surely, my father won’t let his children move onto a compound.

“You could call home,” I say. “Even the babies have mobile phones.”

Daphne shakes her head. “It’s too confusing for them. They just want to know when I’m coming home, and it’s too hard to explain. Better to wait until I have some clear answers.”

“Mum … they miss you.”

“Basil.” She puts her hand on my arm. “They’re so young, they won’t even remember that I was gone for a few weeks. They won’t remember missing me. Soon I’ll be home, and I’ll be strong, and that’s what they’ll remember.”

I can’t think of what else to say.

Simon clears his throat—to remind us he’s here, I think. “Hello, Mrs.

Grimm.”

Daphne looks at him, and her face cools. (Fair. He did destroy her house.) “Hello, Mr. Snow. Did you enjoy the meeting?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Wow. Does he do this every week?”

“He tries,” she says, immediately warming again. Apparently one mention of Smith-Richards is all it takes to make Daphne forget her motherless children and her ruined estate. “It’s an enormous spell,” she goes on, “so he can’t always manage it. But he’s helped six of us so far.”

“And those people can all do magic now?”

“Well,” she says, “they could always do magic. But, yes, they’re all very powerful now. Not even just middling powerful,” she says to me. “They’re all at the top of the game.”

“Wow,” Simon says again, looking genuinely impressed. “Can anyone cast that spell?”

“Crowley, no,” Daphne says. “I mean”—she’s sheepish—“I think we’ve all tried. But it’s Smith’s gift. It’s part of what makes him special.”