BooksBarbecue
Back Any Way the Wind Blows
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

The doe moans. I shake my head and make myself focus: Her eyes are closed. Her body is limp. Her legs are covered in yellow gunk. “She’s been in labour a long time,” I say.

Niamh touches her belly, and the doe’s eyes snap open. Wings unfold from her back, like magic. She tries to bite Niamh and fly away, all at once.

I dodge between them, wrapping my arms around the goat’s neck and holding her against my chest. “Shhhhhh, it’s all right, it’s all right…”

The doe settles again, panting.

Niamh scoots back and opens her shoulder bag. “Let me see your right hand, Agatha.”

I frown at her, but I hold out one hand, hugging the doe with the other. Niamh scrubs my hand with some sort of wipe. Then she squeezes clear jelly in my palm and rubs it through my fingers. She doesn’t have to tell me what to do next; I’ve watched enough YouTube videos.

I shift myself around the doe—she doesn’t fight me—and slide my fingers into her birth canal. She cries out. She’s so tired, she’s been here all day. We never should have left her.

The kid is right inside. I can feel it.

“It’s backwards,” I say. “Stuck.”

“You’ll have to get the legs,” Niamh says.

“I know.”

“All right, I’m right here.”

I lean over the doe, holding her. Her wings beat against my face. I’m in her up to my elbow. Niamh is right beside me.

I can feel the kid. I can feel the legs.

“I’ve got them,” I say.

“One at a time,” Niamh says. “You’re doing well.”

Niamh’s hand is between my shoulders. She’s casting spells over the doe. The doe is crying. I have the legs—I have them. I’m pulling them out one at time. “Push for me, darling,” I say. “I know you’re tired.”

Niamh whispers her spells. The doe pushes. The kid slides out into my hands, still in its sack. Niamh passes me a towel, and I rub the little goat clean.

“It isn’t moving,” I say.

Niamh presses her wand into the kid’s chest. “The beat goes on!”

It doesn’t move.

Its mother cries.

The dryad is sitting on Ebb’s grave, ignoring us.

“I’m sorry,” Niamh says to me. “We were too late.”

74

SIMON

We wait for Baz and Penny and Shepard to disappear inside the Weeping Tower.

Then Pippa looks at me. “You lied to them.”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to st-stop Smith?”

“Yes.”

“The White Chapel,” she whispers. “Hurry!”

AGATHA

“It’s all right,” Niamh says.

It isn’t all right. Nothing is all right. The kid is dead. The mother is crying. And the fucking dryad is acting like none of us are here.