She got up and opened the door, ending the call. Youre ridiculous.
I brought you coffee, he said. He was wearing all blackblack jeans, black sweater, black leather work bootsand holding two Christmassy red cups.
I dont really drink coffee. Their previous encounters notwithstanding.
Thats okay. These are more like melted candy bars. Which do you want, gingerbread latte or eggnog?
Eggnog reminds me of mucus, she said.
Me, too. But in a good way. He held out his hand. Gingerbread.
Cath took the cup and smiled in resignation.
Youre welcome, Levi said. He sat on her bed and smiled expectantly.
Youre serious? She sat down at her desk.
Come on, Cath, dont you write these stories so that people can enjoy them?
I write them so that people will read them. Ill send you a link.
Dont send me a link. Im not much of an Internet person.
Cath felt her eyes get big. She was about to take a sip of her coffee, but stopped. How do you not like the Internet? Thats like saying, I dont like things that are convenient. And easy. I dont like having access to all of mankinds recorded discoveries at my fingertips. I dont like light. And knowledge.
I like knowledge, he said.
Youre not a book person. And now youre not an Internet person? What does that leave you?
Levi laughed. Life. Work. Class. The great outdoors. Other people.
Other people, Cath repeated, shaking her head and taking a sip. There are other people on the Internet. Its awesome. You get all the benefits of other people without the body odor and the eye contact.
Levi kicked her chair. He could reach it without stretching. Cath. Read me your fanfiction. I want to know what happens next.
She opened her computer slowly, as if she were still thinking about it. As if there were any way she was going to say no. Levi wanted to know what happened next. That question was Caths Achilles heel.
She opened the story shed been reading to him. It was something shed written last year for a Christmas-fic festival (Deck the Hols with Baz and Simon). Caths fic had won two awards: Tastes Like Canon and Best in Snow.
Where did we leave off? she said, mostly to herself.
Bazs teeth were bared, and his face with filled with disgust and decision.
Cath found the spot in the story. Wow, she said. Good memory.
Levi was smiling. He kicked her chair again.
Okay, she said, so theyre in the boat, and Simon is leaning over, looking at the tiles on the moat wall.
Levi closed his eyes.
Cath cleared her throat.
When he looked back, Baz had stepped toward him in the punt. He was curled above Simon, washed blue by his own conjured fire, his teeth bared and his face thick with decision and disgust.
Baz held the pole just over Simons face, and before Simon could reach his wand or whisper a spell, Baz was driving the pole forward over Simons shoulder. The boat shook, and there was a gurgling howla frenzied splashfrom the water. Baz raised the pole and drove it down again, his face as cold and cruel as Simon had ever seen it. His wide lips were shining, and he was practically growling.
Simon held himself still while the boat rocked. When Baz stepped back again, Simon slowly sat up. Did you kill it? he asked quietly.
No, Baz said. I should have. It should know better than to bother the boatsand you should know better than to lean into the moat.
Why are there merwolves in the moat anyway? Simon flushed. This is a school.
A school run by a madman. Something Ive been trying to explain to you for six years.
Dont talk that way about the Mage.
Wheres your Mage now, Simon? Baz asked softly, looking up at the old fortress. He looked tired again, his face blue and shadowed in the moonlight, his eyes practically ringed in black. And what are you looking for anyway? he asked waspishly, rubbing his
eyes. Maybe if you told me, I could help you find it, and then we could both go inside and avoid death by drowning, freezing, or torn jugular.
Its Simon weighed the risks.
Usually when Simon was this far along on a quest, Baz had already sniffed out his purpose and was setting a trap to foil him. But this time Simon hadnt told anyone what he was doing. Not even Agatha. Not even Penelope.
The anonymous letter had told Simon to seek out help; it said that the mission was too dangerous to carry out on his ownand thats exactly why Simon hadnt wanted to involve his friends.
But putting Baz at risk Well, that wasnt so distasteful.
Its dangerous, Simon said sternly.
Oh, Im suredanger is your middle name, etc. Simon Oliver Danger Snow.
How do you know my middle name? Simon asked warily.
Great Crimea, what part of six years is lost on you? I know which shoe you put on first. I know that your shampoo smells like apples. My mind is fairly bursting with worthless Simon Snow trivia. Dont you know mine?
Your what?
My middle name, Baz said.
Morgans tooth, he was stroppy. Its its Basilton, right?
Quite right, you great thumping idiot.
That was a trick question. Simon turned back to the mosaic.
What are you looking for! Baz demanded again, snarling through his teeth like an animal.