If Penelope were here, she’d make me explain myself.
Thank magic she isn’t here yet.
I’ve just pushed my fingers between Baz’s shirt buttons; his skin is room temperature.
Then someone clears her throat. Baz stands up straight, which means his mouth jerks away from mine. I step away so quickly, I’m not sure I didn’t teleport.
His maid or nanny or whatever she is, is standing in the archway. She’s wearing a black dress and a white apron. “Mr. Pitch,” she says, and she must get paid to pretend she doesn’t notice anything around here, because she doesn’t even flinch. Boys kissing is probably mild—she’s probably walked into interrogations and goat sacrifices. “You have guests,” she says. “Two young ladies.”
“Thank you, Vera,” Baz says without a hint of apology. “Send them in.” He straightens his shirt and smooths down his hair.
“Girls?” I say. “More than one?”
“Agatha,” Baz says over my shoulder, “welcome. Hello, Bunce.”
I spin around. Penelope and Agatha are standing in the library door; they must not have waited for the maid to come back for them. Penny’s already eyeing the library bookshelves lustfully. Agatha’s looking at me.
“What are you doing here?” I say.
“Baz called us,” Penny says. She walks into the room and hands me a plate of gingerbread biscuits covered in plastic wrap.
“What are you doing here?” Agatha asks me.
“Agatha was staying with me,” Penny explains, “and she had her car, so—”
“Please come in, Agatha,” Baz invites. “Could I get you both something to drink?”
“I’ll have tea,” Penny says.
“Excellent,” he says, striding past Agatha out the door.
“What is this?” Agatha says. “Penelope wouldn’t even tell me where we were going. What are you doing here, Simon?”
I frown at Penny.
She unwraps the plate of gingerbread and takes one. “I didn’t know what I was allowed to say! And I didn’t think she’d drive me if I told her where we were going. You two need to get over this, Simon. If you can make peace with Baz, you can make peace with Agatha.”
“Temporary peace,” Baz says, already back with tea and a plate of fruit. He must have used magic.
“I’ll pour,” Penny says.
“Temporary peace?” Agatha asks. Penny hands her a cup of tea. “Are you all possessed?” She hands the tea back. “I’m not drinking this.”
Baz looks at me. “Your call, Snow. Do you trust her?”
Agatha’s fuming. “Does he trust me?”
“Of course,” I say. And it’s true, to some extent, anyway. I trust Agatha not to be evil. I don’t trust her alone with Baz—though I guess I should rethink all that, in light of recent information. “Agatha, um—”
“We’re trying to figure out who killed Baz’s mother,” Penelope cuts in.
“The Humdrum killed her,” Agatha says.
Penny holds her teacup up, gesturing with it. “Not according to her, he didn’t.”
Agatha looks confused. And a little pissed off.
I look to Baz. It seems like he should be the one to tell this part, as much of it as he wants to, but he’s back at his whiteboard, filling out the Everything we know column—ghosts, Visitings, vampires. Penny jumps up as soon as Baz adds Nicodemus to the list.
I take her place on the couch next to Agatha.
“When did this all start?” Agatha asks me.
“When the Veil thinned,” I say. “Natasha Grimm-Pitch came through to find Baz and found me instead. She wants him to find her murderer. When Baz came back, I told him I’d help him figure it out.”
Agatha’s eyebrows are almost touching in the middle, and her nose is wrinkled. “Why?”
“Because it seemed like the right thing to do.”
“It did?”
I shrug. “Yeah. I mean—it was an attack on Watford. A murder.”
“What did the Mage say about all this?”
“He didn’t. Exactly.” I look down at my lap, scratching the hair above my neck. “Penny and Baz don’t think we should tell him.”
“Penny and Baz think?”
“It’s Baz’s mum,” I say, “so I feel like I should respect his wishes on this.”
“But Baz hates you!”
I nod. “I know. We’re sort of … on a truce?”
“Simon, listen to yourself—a truce?”
“You went to a vampire bar!” Penny shouts from across the room. Baz must be catching her up. “What a pair of splendid morons you are! Did you take photos?”
“Vampires don’t show up in photos,” I say.
“That’s mirrors, you dolt,” Baz says.
“You can’t see yourself in the mirror?”
Baz ignores me and goes back to telling Penny about Nicodemus.
“But…” Agatha is staring at the two of them. “Baz is dark. He’s evil.”
“I thought you never believed that,” I say.
“I absolutely believed it,” she says. “You told us he was a vampire, Simon. Wait—” She turns to him, then back to me. “—did he just now admit that he is a vampire?”
I pull at the hair on my neck. I can tell I’m making an idiotic face. “I’m not sure it’s that simple.…”
“That Baz is a vampire?”
“No, he’s definitely a vampire,” I say. “I guess it is that simple. But you can’t tell anyone, Agatha.”
“Simon, you’ve already told everyone. You’ve been telling everyone since we were third years.”
“Yeah, but nobody believed me.”
“I believed you.”
“‘One of you’?” Penelope says loudly. “What does Nicodemus mean by that? That it was another mage who let the vampires in? Or one of you Pitches, someone in your family—”
“It wouldn’t have been someone in my family,” Baz protests. “Never.”
“Your relatives are famous betrayers,” Penny argues. “There was a time in the 1700s when they weren’t even allowed to sign contracts.”
“Yes, but we never betray each other.”
Baz keeps telling Penny about Nicodemus. And Ebb. “Simon’s the one who broke it all open,” he says, “without even opening a book.”
“Typical,” Penny says.
Baz doesn’t tell her the way Nicodemus threatened him or taunted him. He doesn’t tell her much about Fiona. He doesn’t say how fucking cool he was at the bar, or how he lost it completely as soon as he walked out. How I kissed him to save his life—and then kissed him just because I wanted to. (I’m just now realizing that maybe I could have saved his life some other way.…)
“So you’re staying here?” Agatha says. To me.
“No, I just came to tell Baz about Nicodemus, and then I didn’t have a ride home.”
“Who’s Nicodemus again?”
“The person who knows who the traitor is,” Penny answers, then turns to me. “I can’t believe you guys just walked away from him, knowing he has all the answers! If he’d told you who tried to hire him, we’d be done now.”
“We couldn’t compel him,” I say. “And we couldn’t beat it out of him—we were surrounded by vampires.”
Penelope folds her arms. “I guess.”
“The ethics on you, Bunce,” Baz says.
“What did you find out, Penny?” I ask.
“Not much, in comparison.” She leans back against a bookshelf and crosses her ankles. “I talked to my dad about the Humdrum. He confirmed that nobody blamed the Humdrum for the Watford Tragedy until years later. They just thought it was another vampire attack. Hey, Agatha, are you caught up yet? Maybe we could talk to your parents—your dad might remember something—”
“I’m not caught up,” Agatha says.
“Well, catch up,” Penny says. “It’s all on the whiteboard. I’ve got to say, it’s good to have you back.”
“I’m not sure I am back,” Agatha mutters. Only
I hear her.
“It’s been really good,” I tell her. “Actually. Working with Baz instead of fighting with him.”
“Is that why you were looking for him?” she asks. “That night on the ramparts? Because of a Visiting?”
“Sort of…”
Penny and Baz keep adding notes to the board. They’re fighting over the dry-erase marker. I feel like I should stay sitting with Agatha, and answer her questions, but she doesn’t say any more. And she still won’t drink any tea.
Penny drills Baz until she finds out about Fiona’s school memory book, then she wants to see it. Then Penny and Agatha spend an hour poring over the pictures.
Baz’s stepmum brings us sandwiches. When she walks in, Baz and Penny move to block the whiteboard—Baz, looking cool; Penny, looking like she has a terrible secret.
I try to convince them that it’s stupid to have all our notes out in the open, and that we should erase the whiteboard now, but they’re both addicted to the thing.
Then Baz’s dad comes home from work. He still seems confounded by my presence, but he’s thrilled to meet Penny and Agatha—even though I know he doesn’t get along with their parents. Maybe he just has nice manners. Baz keeps rolling his eyes.
By late afternoon, we’re all cream-crackered, and we haven’t made any real progress. Even Penny has abandoned the whiteboard.
I’m still sitting next to Agatha on the couch. Baz is sitting in a stuffed chair, across from us; I think Agatha and I are both watching him, but he rarely looks our way.
Penelope slumps down onto the arm of Baz’s chair. I see his nostrils twitch, but he doesn’t pull away. I guess he’s gone this long without eating anyone, so I’m not going to be bothered about it.
“We have to go back to Nicodemus,” Penny says. “It’s what Headmistress Grimm-Pitch told us to do.”
“We can’t compel him,” I say, “and he’s not gonna tell us anything.”
“Maybe you guys didn’t ask nicely enough,” she says, waggling her eyebrows.
“Corking idea, Penelope,” Baz says. “We’ll have you seduce him.”
“No,” I say.
“I was thinking Agatha…,” Penny says.
“I’m not even here,” Agatha says. “When you’re all put on trial before the Coven, I wasn’t here.”
“We haven’t broken any laws,” I object.
“Oh, like that matters,” she says.
“Hear, hear,” Baz agrees. “You know, I’ve always expected to be tried unfairly before the Coven someday, but I never thought I’d be in such good company.”
“Nobody’s seducing a vampire,” I say.
Baz frowns at me.
“Unless,” I say, “we could convince your aunt—”
“No.”
“I don’t know how you’re going to get this vampire to confess to murder,” Agatha says flatly, “when you can’t even get Baz to tell you where he was for two months.”
“He was ill,” Penny says. She turns to Baz. “Weren’t you? You said you were ill. You certainly looked ill.”
“He wasn’t ill,” Agatha says. “Dev said he was missing.”
Baz’s lip curls. “Dev told you that?”
“I told you your relatives are betrayers,” Penny says.
Baz sneers some more. “He only told Agatha because he has a dirty crush on her.”
“See,” Penny says, “I told you we could use Agatha to seduce people.”
“You said you were ill,” I say to Baz.
He looks at me, narrows his eyes into a glare, then looks away. “I was ill,” he says, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing out his dark trousers. “But I was also missing.”
“Where were you?” I demand.
He meets my eyes again, still glaring, “I really don’t think this is relevant—”
“Everything is relevant,” Penny says.
“I—” He clears his throat and looks down at his knees. “—was kidnapped.”
I sit up. “Kidnapped?”
“Kidnapped,” he repeats, then clears his throat again. “By numpties.”
“Numpties?” Penny says. “Was it an accident? Did they mistake you for a hot water bottle?”
“They put a bag over my head while I was leaving the club, actually.”
Agatha sits up. “You were kidnapped at the club?”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” I ask.
“Well, I tried,” he says. “I guess nobody heard me shouting from inside the coffin.”
I’m still holding a sandwich. I drop it. “The numpties kept you in a coffin? For two months?”
“Six weeks,” he mutters. “And I think they thought they were doing me a favor, with the coffin.…”
Penny shoves his shoulder. “Basil. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Why didn’t I tell you?” He’s glaring at her now. “Think about it: Who would pay numpties to kidnap the heir to the House of Pitch? Who has it out for my family right now? Who’s raided my house twice in the last month—who threw my cousin in a tower?”
“Not the Mage,” I say.
“Of course the Mage!” Baz has got both his hands in his pockets, and he’s leaning forward over his crossed legs, his elbows flaring out. “He thought he could terrify my parents, so they’d co-operate with his latest campaign. It must drive him mad to see me at school and know I got away from him! Why didn’t I tell you? ‘Hey, Simon, your Jedi master is out to get me, do we still have a truce?’”
“How did you get away?” I ask.
“Fiona found me. She’s fearless.”
“That’s why you were so thin,” I say. “And pale. And why you’re still limping. Did they hurt you?”
He sits back, looking down at his lap. “Not intentionally, I don’t think. They did something to my leg when they caught me, and it didn’t get a chance to heal.”
“You should go see my dad,” Agatha says.
“Is he a vampire doctor now?”
“Was there a ransom?” Penny asks.
“Yeah,” Baz says. “My family wouldn’t pay it. Pitches don’t negotiate for hostages.”
“If I’m ever kidnapped at the club,” Agatha says, “tell my parents to pay the ransom.”
“My aunt found me with a souped-up finding spell,” Baz says. “She canvassed most of London.”
“I would have helped,” I say. “It wouldn’t have taken six weeks with me helping.”
Baz is scornful. “You never would have helped my family.”
“I would! It was driving me mental not knowing where you were. I thought you were going to jump out from every corner.”
“It wasn’t the Mage…,” Penny says. Thoughtfully.
“This is why I didn’t tell you lot,” Baz says. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. You’re so convinced that the Mage is a hero—”
“No,” Penny cuts him off. “It wasn’t the Mage, Baz—it was the murderer!”
“I thought it was numpties…,” Agatha says.
“It was the same person who sent vampires after your mother!” Penny says, jumping to her feet. “They knew that the Veil was lifting, and that there was a good chance your mum would come back to talk to you. It was a classic Visit—a dangerous secret, a crime against justice. The traitor was worried that Natasha Pitch might come back, and knew that she’d come back to you. So he—or she, I guess—hid you. This used to happen all the time! There’s a family in Scotland who lost a different family member every twenty years because the murderer kept killing the person most likely to avenge the previous deaths. No one wanted a ransom for you, Baz—they just wanted you tucked away until the Visitings were over.”
Baz looks at her. Licks his lips. “Not the Mage?” he asks.
“The murderer,” Penny says—looking all too pleased about it, considering that murderer is still at large.
“If that’s true,” Agatha says, “then we need to tell the Mage about all of this. Immediately.”
66
PENELOPE
All right, fine. It was probably a mistake to bring Agatha.
But it had gone on too long, all this tension between her and Simon. I didn’t want them to go all year without sorting it out.
And I thought maybe a good mystery might distract her from—well, from everything else. I should have remembered that Agatha doesn’t appreciate a good mystery.
And also that she’s the world’s worst snitch.
“We have to tell the Mage,” she says, crossing her arms and then her legs. “You all know it.”
She’s doing her best not to look at either of the boys.… I also should have thought through their whole love-triangle dynamic before I dragged Agatha to Baz’s house. But their whole love-triangle dynamic is so persistently stupid, you can’t blame me for blocking it out.
“Agatha,” I say, “we’re just starting to make some progress here.”
“Towards what?” she asks. “Infiltrating the numpties?”
“We could just talk to them,” Simon offers. “Can numpties talk?”
“Barely,” Baz says. “And what are we going to ask them—‘Lose something?’”
“We’re going to ask who hired them to kidnap you,” I say.
“They might not feel co-operative,” Baz says. “My aunt did kill a few of them.”
Simon looks horrified. “Your aunt murdered numpties?”
“In self-defence!”
“Did they attack her?”
“In my self-defence,” Baz says. “Are you really taking their side? They held me hostage for six weeks.”
“Your aunt should have asked for help!”
“If you’d have been there, Snow, all the numpties would be dead.”
“Maybe.” Simon sticks his chin out. “But it wouldn’t have taken six weeks.”
“So we’ll interrogate the remaining numpties,” I say.
“We will not,” Agatha says. “We’ll tell the Mage and let him handle this—it’s his job to handle it. We’re talking about kidnapping! And murder!”
“Look here, Wellbelove,” Baz says. “We’re not going to the Mage. We’ve all already agreed.”
“Well, I didn’t agree.” Agatha looks furious, and also fed up, and also I think she was supposed to be home two hours ago.