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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

Shepard looks sheepish. “I did not.”

“Okay…” I look back at my board. I write in Ken.

“If Ken is such a good friend, why didn’t he just give you the ritual?”

“A guy’s got to eat. Plus, it was a lot of work for him. He had to write the whole thing out phonetically.”

“And he didn’t tell you what it actually said?”

“He didn’t know! Like I said, he knew the letters, but only a few words here and there.”

“What did Ken say afterwards, when you told him what happened with the demon?”

Shepard’s face falls—like he pities Ken, of all people. “He felt terrible.”

“He’s going to feel a lot worse when I talk to him about this thirdborn situation. Did he try to help you at all?”

“He said he was afraid of making it worse.”

“What’s worse than losing your soul to a demon?”

“Dying, I guess. Getting cursed along with me.”

“Let’s call him,” I say. “This Ken. Right now.”

“We can’t call him. He’s asleep.”

“Nonsense, it’s ten A.M. in Chicago.” This is math I’m used to doing.

“No, I mean he’s hibernating. He’ll be asleep for years.”

“Giants hibernate?”

Shepard shakes his head at me. “If you ever gave me a chance, I could teach you so much about magic…”

“Oh my goodness, Shepard, stop. I’m going to roll my eyes so hard, they’ll get stuck.” I sit back down on the arm of the couch, tapping my lip. “Let’s stick a pin in Ken and come back to him. All right, so it was midnight … You drew the door, you read the ritual…”

“And it worked. The demon showed up. The marks appeared on my arms. It left.” Shepard is looking at his lap, scratching the back of his head. He isn’t smiling at all.

“Tell me about it.”

He sighs. “It was a demon.”

“What did it look like?”

“Does that matter?”

“I guess not. What did it say?”

“Not much. Small talk … ‘Who calls me?’ ‘Did you call me of your own free will?’ Yada, yada.”

“Yada, yada?”

“It really was just small talk, Penelope. I thought we were having a nice time.”

“And then?”

“And then tattoos.”

“And it didn’t explain?”

“It said … I don’t remember exactly what it said.”

SHEPARD

“Who calls me?” the demon said, pushing open the door in the floor.

“Hi,” I said. “My name is Shepard Love. I’m from Omaha, Nebraska. I’m studying journalism.” I was still in school then.

It climbed into the room with me, like it was walking up stairs—I wasn’t expecting it to do that. It sat on my bed. I offered it a can of Coke, and it took it. This is going so well, I remember thinking.