“How does one evenmeeta river?”
“By introducing oneself.”
“Is that right,Shep.”
Simon is flying just above us, still taking advantage of being unnoticeable.
“You should fly more,” I say, when he touches down near the truck.
“Sure,” he says. “Up Regent Street, through Piccadilly Circus.”
“We could go to the country. There’s still my family estate.”
“I’d probably show up on Google Maps.…”
“I’d magic you before we got there.”
Simon shrugs.
Penny is waiting for me to get in the cab. “Come on, Baz, let’s go.”
Simon takes my elbow. “Ride with me,” he says, looking at the place where his hand is touching my arm. “There are stars.”
His hair is hanging between us in wet ringlets. I lean forward and bump his head with mine. “Yeah,” I say. “Okay.”
I can’t see him smile, but I think it’s there.
He swings up into the back of the truck, and I follow. Penny sighs and gets in the cab. She’ll have to argue with Shepard without leaning over me. (I’m not worried about her safety; I’ve cast three intention spells on the Normal—he means us no direct harm.)
There’s a sleeping bag spread out back here, and Simon lies down in it, carefully leaving room for me. I’m still crouching, looking around. The truck starts, and I lose my balance.
“Come here,” Simon says.
I really hate riding back here. I feel like a cup of tea left on top of a moving car. “This is so dangerous,” I say, kneeling. “What if we hit a bump?”
“You’ll be fine, you’re Kevlar.”
“What about you?”
“Wings.”
I look down at him. The truck has already picked up speed.
“Baz,” he says, reaching out to me. “Come here.”
SIMON
Come here.
Come on.
Please.
Give us this.
BAZ
I lie down next to Simon, and his left arm slides under my waist. The truck is hard beneath us, and you can feel every piece of gravel under the wheels—but it’s better lying down, letting the wind blow over you, not through.
