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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

And then, Simon Snow, a new age would dawn for the World of Mages …

A new stage, with only the most powerful and canniest players left standing. A new era. Of adventure, of high stakes, and glory—just like in the stories Evander told me.

All the best stories are old … Why is that? When did magicians stop doing anything worth writing down or repeating?

They wrote me down.

I was foretold.

I still am.

One day at a time, Evander always says. One chapter.

There’s a scraping noise across the roof. A trapdoor opens. And the headmistress—Martin Bunce’s wife—comes through it, wand first.

(She’ll never line up for my spell. She’ll stay in the narrative.)

“You’re under arrest,” she says to me. “And you…” She looks at Simon. “… will wait for me in my office.”

I raise myself to my feet and put my hands in the air. I’m wearing white. I’m singed and sooty. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this—but I don’t fear destiny.

76

AGATHA

The second kid slides out, just the way it’s supposed to. I catch it—I can already feel it squirming inside its bag. “It’s alive!” I shout. “Niamh! Look!”

“You’re doing so well,” she says, handing me another clean towel.

The kid kicks its way out of the membrane, while I scrub at it. The doe cranes her head back, too exhausted to reach it. I bring the baby over to her face, and she licks away the gunk. “There you are, mother,” I say. “Good work, darling.”

I’m crying.

I’m laughing.

Niamh lays her hand on my back. “You saved them both, Agatha.”

“I didn’t—” I turn to Niamh. For once, she doesn’t look angry. Niamh is looking at me the way lots of people do sometimes, but she never has. Like I’m … well, like I’m …

“You’re amazing,” she says.

I’ve turned right into her arm. Her hand stays on my back. Niamh’s eyes are royal blue. Her eyelashes are short and dark. Her colour is high. Here, in the clearing, under the solid gold sun.

“Agatha,” she says.

My hands are covered in goo and jelly. I lift up my chin, so it’s there, if she wants it …

She does. She kisses me.

Niamh.

Her long nose in my cheek. Her chin as sharp as it looks. Her lips the softest part of her, surely.

Niamh.

I would like …

Niamh.

More of this …

Niamh.

Please.

Niamh kisses me.

“Agatha,” she says, “you saved Watford.”

77

BAZ

Smith-Richards has been arrested. He’ll be kept in a tower until his trial.

There’s an emergency Coven meeting; three members were already here for Smith-Richards’s rally. (Which I find alarming.)

Headmistress Bunce makes everyone in the Chapel stay to give a statement. Even Penelope and me.