I hold him. I think he’s crying. Baz is standing over us, looking wretched and concerned. “Snow, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Simon says, gulping. “Nothing happened. Just … I’m a fool.”

Baz curls his lip. “Did Smith do this? What did he say to you?”

“Who’s Smith?” I ask.

“You don’t want to know,” Baz says, at the same time that Simon says, “He’s the new Chosen One.”

“Stevie Nicks and Gracie Slick. I let the pair of you out of my sight for a week…”

There are brand-new dishes from Ikea sitting on the counter. I rinse off some mugs, while Baz tries to make tea without a kettle. He can’t manage the spell. “You are not all right,” I say to him. “And you’re going to tell me why, as soon we have Simon sorted.”

“So…” Baz rubs his eyes. “That’s never, then.”

“Rosie Lee!” I cast.

We take the tea out to Shepard and Simon. They’re sitting on the floor in Simon’s empty living room. Simon’s leaning against the wall, wringing his hands in his hair.

“Here,” Baz says, holding out a cup. “Drink.”

“All right,” I say, sitting next to Simon. “So there’s a guy named Smith who claims to be the Greatest Mage…”

“It isn’t just a claim, Penny—he’s the real deal.” Simon’s being especially strident. “He has a spell to help people reach their full magickal potential.”

I balk: “What does that mean?”

“Magickal power-ups.” Baz sits down at Simon’s other side. “Like Super Mario mushrooms. He’s promised to turn my stepmother into Baba Yaga.”

“Well,” I say, “that can’t be real.” Baz’s stepmum couldn’t spell her way out of a wet paper bag.

“We’ve seen him cast it,” Simon insists. “It works.”

“Yeah, but…”

Simon huffs so hard he nearly spills his tea. “Why is this so difficult for you guys to accept? You all believed I was the Greatest Mage when I showed up out of nowhere!”

“You grew on us.” Baz lays a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “Snow—what happened tonight, after I left?”

Simon looks into his cup. “I went out for a pint. With Smith.”

“With Smith,” Baz repeats.

“And he … Well, he offered to fix my magic.”

Baz shoves Simon’s shoulder back, splashing his tea all over. “He what?”

“Great snakes,” I say, mopping at my knees. “Could that work? Would you even want it to, Simon? He could fix you right back into Humdrum territory!”

“Which is why you said no,” Baz says. “Correct?”

“I…” Simon looks at Baz’s face, then at mine, then back at his lap. He sets down his half-empty cup. “It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work.”

Baz is livid. I think his fangs may have popped. “Are you telling us he tried it?!”