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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

“Pish,” Dad says. “She’ll manage somehow without you. Niamh, Agatha had planned to study veterinary care herself.” He looks back at me, and I can hear him thinking, But who knows what she’s planning now?

Niamh is looking at me, too, trying very hard to smile like a normal person. (Close but no cigar, Niamh!) “Of course,” she says. “I’d be glad of the help.”

“Grand,” my dad says. “Have a good time, Agatha. Say hello to Mitali if you see her.” The door closes behind him.

Niamh is still grimacing at me. “I’ll come find you when I’m ready.”

“Great.” I nod.

Grand.

23

PENELOPE

I try to pull myself together in the shower. It helps to have a plan. Next step: Get Shepard home.

I buy him a plane ticket for this evening. Don’t tell my mother, but I can pay for almost anything online with “A penny for your thoughts.” (I think it works so well for me because of my name.) I’m not going to worry about getting caught for this. If anyone figures out I’ve been kiting plane tickets, this won’t be the one that seals my fate.

The only real risk is that the magic will fail somehow before Shepard gets home. I don’t want him to get into any more trouble. (Though I’ve never met anyone with such a nose for it, not even Simon.) (I’m trying not to wonder about the “interesting” thing Simon was texting about. I am not falling back into this routine with him. Not if he hates me for it.) (Evidently Baz was less easily dismissed than I was. Fine. Let Baz be the one who gets repeatedly dumped.)

When I walk out into the living room, Shepard is pulling on a fresh T-shirt. His denim jacket is lying on the back of the sofa. It’s rare to see his arms—he wears that jacket even indoors, even in June. The tattoos trail out from his shirt sleeves, all the way down to his wrists. They’re so ornate, they almost seem to move.

No. They are moving.

I think they’re really moving!

I walk over to Shepard and grab his arm, staring down at the symbols.

“They do that sometimes,” he says softly.

“What does it mean?” I ask.

“Don’t know,” he says. “Can’t read Demon.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. Sometimes it sort of flashes—like, tingles—before things start to change.”

I watch the symbols shift and turn, winding around his arm. There must be some rhyme, some reason …

“It’s kind of cool-looking, huh?”

I look up at him. “No. Shepard. It isn’t cool. It’s horrid. I lament your inability to tell the difference.”