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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

“Oh,” Niamh says. “Well, if you feel better in a while, I really could use your help finding the rest of the herd. Sometimes it takes hours.”

“Hours?”

“They’re crafty.”

The goat we caught is already heading out to the fields behind the school, where Ebb used to take them to graze. “I suppose I could help,” I say. “Do we have to cross the moat?”

“No. The goats stay in the hills, usually. They hate the merwolves.”

“So do I.”

“Yeah,” Niamh says, “they’re horrible. They killed all the fish in the moat, and the school has to feed them horse meat. I talked the headmistress into euthanizing them, but some students led a protest.”

“Ebb used to bring them in every night,” I say.

“The merwolves?”

“No. The goats. They slept in the barn with her.”

Niamh frowns at me. “Ebb Petty is dead.”

25

PENELOPE

Well, one way of looking at this is—there’s a lot more written on my blackboard.

WHAT WE KNOW:

  • Omaha, Nebraska
  • Two years ago (Normal, age 20)
  • Midnight ritual
  • Curse victim was alone
  • Victim does not wish to be called “victim”
  • Where did curse victim (hereafter called “C.V.”) acquire ritual?
  • “Some guy I met” (!)
  • Where is ritual now? In C.V.’s pocket (!!)
  • C.V. was told ritual would help him “meet a demon” (!!!)
  • C.V. thought that sounded like a corking idea
  • C.V. possibly already cursed? “Conked on the head with the stupid stick,” as my grandmother used to say? Worth investigating …

*MY NAME IS SHEPARD*

  • Demon was successfully summoned

WHAT WE DON’T KNOW:

  • Name of demon
  • Type of demon
  • What the ritual says
  • What the ritual does
  • How to reverse it
  • What Shepard was thinking
  • What Shepard is EVER thinking

“Right now I’m thinking that you’d make an excellent prosecuting attorney.” Shepard’s sprawled out on the sofa, all long legs and orange corduroy.

“That sounds like a compliment,” I say, surveying my lists. “Thank you.” I turn back to him—and to the demonic ritual which he’s taken from his pocket and spread out on my coffee table.

At least it isn’t the actual ritual. This is just a phonetic transcription, written in purple ink on a piece of notebook paper. I start to read it out loud, and Shepard jumps off the sofa to cover my mouth. “Don’t do that,” he says softly, hand still pressed over my lips.

I nod. I suppose he’s right.

He slowly takes his hand away, and we both exhale.

“Is that it how it happened?” I ask. “You just read it out loud?”

He sits back down. “No, there was more. I drew a doorway on the floor.”

“Not a pentagram?”

“No, it was a door—there was a diagram for how to draw it. I think the door worked like a metaphor. Like it was the idea of a door, and then it became a door.”