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Back Any Way the Wind Blows Save as PDF
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

I’ve been trying to hang on to the World of Mages because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Because I couldn’t find a way forward. I thought I’d find my way at the bottom of a cider can. I thought I’d find it, or something, driving across America. And for a few hours—a few hours in the back of a truck, somewhere in Utah—I fooled myself into thinking that I had.

But the only way forward is out.

This money is my way out.

There’s enough to get a flat. I won’t have to worry about rent for a year, at least. And I’ll have a job by then. I made an appointment with Dr. Wellbelove to finally deal with the wings. It’s going to have to be surgical, he says; magic won’t touch them. That’s fine. I’m ready.

I’m ready to let go—to be me again. The me I thought I was before the Mage ever showed up.

9

BAZ

“I just tried to call you. I’m going to stay down here for another day. Things are a bit of a mess. I think my father and Daphne had a fight. Text me when you wake up.”

“Are you around?”

“Are you sleeping? You shouldn’t sleep in the middle of the day when you’re jet-lagged.”

“I don’t have a room here. I slept on the sofa. Mordelia woke me up this morning, playing video games.”

“Daphne still isn’t home. She hasn’t returned my texts.

There’s a lot of that going around…”

“I’m staying another day, maybe two, I’m not sure. I still haven’t cornered my father.

I don’t know how to corner my father.

Anyway …

I can’t leave yet.”

“I’ll just pretend you’ve replied with a thumbs-up emoji.”

“Good night, Snow.”

“Good morning.”

“Daphne has left my father.

As far as I can tell.

He hasn’t *told* me so—magic forbid my father tell me anything other than ‘Tea’s ready’ or ‘The night mares are nearly ready for brooding.’

(He’s into heritage livestock now—the barns are full of rare magickal creatures. Battering rams and Judas goats. ‘The only lllama herd outside of South America.’)

But my stepmother isn’t here—and hasn’t been here in days, maybe weeks. A Normal woman from the village comes up on weekday mornings to take care of the children—who all have mobile phones and iPads glued to their faces. Even Swithin! He watches the same YouTube videos over and over, and cries if you take the thing away. These Grimm children are being raised by algorithms.”

“Bunce says you’re awake and running a lot of errands. I leave the city for three days, and suddenly you have errands.”

“Sorry.”

“That was rude.”