Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3)(92)

“We can try!” Brody calls back.

I decide to help by staying out of their way.

The three of them get on one side of the goats and try to drive them towards the school. The goats aren’t having it. They’re running through the gaps.

“Enough!” Brody finally says, leaning over to catch her breath. “This’ll do. I’ve never managed to round them all up before. Maybe they’ll stay together for a while.”

Simon crosses his wrists on his head, frustrated. “I thought they liked being together…”

“They do, normally.”

“Niamh thinks they’re grieving,” Wellbelove says.

Snow looks stricken. “They miss Ebb?”

Agatha nods.

He looks around him at the goats, newly sympathetic to their terrible behaviour. “So we just leave them here? Alone?”

“They have food and water,” Brody says, “and they can go home whenever they want. We can’t make them go.”

Snow sighs and reaches down to pet the nearest goat. “Don’t run off,” he says. “You’ll regret it.”

Wellbelove looks a bit beaten. “It does feel wrong to leave them…”

“Well…” Brody pulls her bag up over her shoulder. “I have to get back to London, but … if you’d like to stay…”

Agatha looks up. “I’ll take you back.”

Brody nods, scowling, and turns to Simon. “Mr. Snow—” she says stiffly.

“Call me Simon,” he says. “We’re goatherding pals now.”

She nods. “Whenever you’re ready … I’ve got a different plan for your procedure now. I think we should numb the wings at the outset, before we disinfect.”

Snow looks taken aback. “Oh … Yeah. That’s an idea.”

“Call the surgery,” she says, “and I’ll have them put you right into the schedule.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that.”

Wellbelove is looking at me. “See you, then. This was good timing.”

I nod.

She puts her hand on Snow’s arm and squeezes. “Thank you. That really was brilliant.” He lays his hand over hers and smiles at her.

Then she and Brody are heading out towards the Great Lawn.

Snow turns to me. I’m still sitting twenty feet away from him, in the grass.

One side of his mouth quirks up. He starts walking my way.

“What about you?” He’s standing over me now. “Did you get enough sun?”

I shield my eyes. “Yes, am I getting scorched around the edges?”

“You’re looking a bit … Iowa.”

Snow holds out his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. He keeps hold of it. “Can we take the long way back?”

“There’s only a long way back,” I say.

“Through the Wood? There’s a marker there, for Ebb. I’ve never seen it.”

I glance over at the dense line of trees across the meadow. “I might have to drink something…”

“Not a goat,” Snow says earnestly.

My cheeks twitch. “One of the famous Watford goats? Never.”

He looks back over the flock. (Do goats flock? Or do they only herd?) They’re already spreading out. “Could you maybe cast a spell on them before we go?”

“None of my other spells worked, Snow.”

He tugs on my hand. “Yeah, but you could try…”

“What kind of spell?”

“Something to make them stay together.”

I look out at the goats and sigh. I raise my wand. “There’s safety in

numbers!” I shout. The goats don’t seem to notice.

Simon kisses my cheek. “Thanks.” He pulls me towards the Wavering Wood. I really am going to have to hunt soon; that rat in the Catacombs merely took the edge off. “Ebb never mentioned that the goats were magic,”

Simon says, swinging our hands. “Wouldn’t she have mentioned that?”

“Don’t ask me. I never heard Ebb say anything useful.”

“Your mum gave her that job. I’ll bet your mum knew the goats were magic…”

I shrug. I don’t know what my mother knew. “Wellbelove looked …

well,” I say, changing the subject.

Simon gives me a wary look.

I feel foolish for saying it. I try to clarify: “She looked better than the last time we saw her.”

“Huh,” he half laughs. “I’m sure she’s happy to be well clear of those NowNext vampires.”

“Do you think we need to tell anyone about them?” We haven’t talked about it yet—the fact that there are vampires trying to steal magic, and vampires running cities. None of us have talked about any of it since we got away from them.

“I’m not sure…” We’re getting closer to the trees. Simon leans over to pick a stick up off the ground. It’s about the size of a sword. He slices it through the air in front of him. “Seems like maybe the Vegas vampires will take care of the NowNext.”

“But we should tell someone about … Las Vegas, right?”

Simon pulls his chin in. “Should we?”