“It wasn’t me.” I take a step towards him. “You saw the Humdrum.”
“You touched me,” he says. “I leaned down and you put your hand on my face.”
“It isn’t me,” I say.
“And then you pushed it into me.” He stumbles backwards, staying a step away from me. “Like you do, Simon. But it wasn’t magic this time. It was a void. You pushed a void into me, and everything else left to make room.”
“Baz, stop. Let me help you.”
He keeps shaking his head. He reminds me for a moment of the red dragon, swinging her head back and forth.
“It’s easy with creatures,” the Humdrum says. He’s standing behind Baz now. He reaches out and presses a hand onto Baz’s hunched spine. “I just take what I got and give it to them.”
Baz whines and unfolds until his back is arched.
“What?” I demand. “What do you give them?”
The Humdrum shrugs. “Nothing. I give them some of my nothing.”
Baz lifts his face to me, all pupil and fang. He takes a step forward. “Get away, Simon. I’m hungry.”
“I give them some of my nothing,” the Humdrum says again, “and then they’re drawn to the biggest of all somethings—you.And then you give me more nothing. It’s a great game.”
Baz keeps coming for me. I stand my ground.
“Get away, Simon! I’m hungry!”
“What are you hungry for, Baz?”
“For you!” he shouts. “For magic, for blood, for magic—for everything.For you.For magic.”
He’s shaking his head so fast, it blurs.
There’s a tree between us, and Baz rips it from the ground and tosses it aside.
“Wicked,” the Humdrum says. “I’ve never tried it with one of these before.”
Baz ploughs into me like a steel gryphon. I catch him in my arms and roll to the ground.
He’s much stronger than I am—but I’m made of magic right now, so there’s no crushing me. We thrash around on the ground. I hold his head in both my hands, pushing his jaw away.
“I’m so hungry,” he whines. “And you’re so full.”
“You can have it,” I say, trying to look in his eyes. “Baz. You know you can have it.”
I push on his chin and grab at his hair, holding him back—but I let my magic go.
I let it flow into him from my every pore. Baz sobs and abruptly stops fighting. It feels like I’m pouring water into an empty well.
It goes.
And it goes.
Baz’s body sags against mine.
“Wow…” the Humdrum says. “That’s even better than fighting.” He feels close. I look up, and he’s standing right over us, rock solid in the moonlight. “When did you learn to do that? It’s like you turned on a tap.”
“Did you take his magic?” I shout at the Humdrum.
