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

And then he told me I was all he had left to lose. I thought that meant that he wouldn’t let me go. But maybe Snow was trying to tell me his plans: You’re all I have left to lose, and eventually I will.

I take another step away from him. I’d been reaching for him. His broad shoulders, his freckled chest. It isn’t fair of him to say these things with his heart so naked. It makes them seem true.

I thought we had the sort of love that you can’t set down or walk away from. An undying fire. The love you hear about in the old stories.

No one told Simon Snow the old stories.

(Fuck, he’s already saved the princess and walked away from her. Maybe I’m one more unwanted prize.)

I take another step back. And another. Snow’s wings drop a bit. He’s looking down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. His chest is pale—cream and gold and pink—but his arms are still sun-kissed from those days in the back of Shepard’s truck. It’s only been a week.

No.

I step forward. His head jerks up.

“You can’t just decide that you’re done with me,” I say. “That’s not what we are.”

Snow looks even more confused, even angrier, than before. “I can’t decide I’m done? I have to pretend that I’m happy like this—sitting at home waiting for you to spell my wings away?”

“Shut up about the wings! You don’t have to keep the wings!”

“I’m not! I’m having them off tomorrow!”

“Wait, tomorrow?” His wings …

Snow lurches towards me. He points at my face. “I’m done, Baz—I’m done playing dungeons and dragons with you lot. I’m done with, fucking, spells. And prophecies. Werewolves and vampires. I’m just a person. An ordinary bloke.”

“How can you say that? You were the most powerful magi—”

His wings flare out. “Was! I was all that. Not anymore. It’s like I’ve been living in a museum—‘Here’s Simon Snow. We thought he was the Chosen One for a few years. Gave himself a tail. Look at the state of him.’ I’ve got to let all that go, I have to figure out what comes next!”

“That’s what we’ve been doing! We’re figuring it out together.”

He rolls his eyes and shrugs his wings. It’s all one gesture. “I know what’s next for you and Penny—magic! It’s always more magic.”

“You keep talking about magic,” I say. “I’m talking about us.”

“It’s all the same thing!”

“I don’t care about magic!” I do care, I care passionately. But I’d give my magic to the Humdrum to fix this.

“That’s a lie,” Simon says.