Maybe I should take the hint.…īut Simon Snow has always hated the sight of me-with a few recent and bittersweet exceptions. I think he hates the sight of us most days. That’s who we are.) But there’s always one of us around-making Snow tea he won’t drink, sharing vegetables he won’t eat, asking questions he won’t answer … The magic-est.īunce and I never leave him alone now if we can help it.
It wasn’t very long ago that all the magic was his. “For fuck’s sake, Penny, I’ll tell you if I want your magic!” She cast a concealment spell his way without even thinking about it-and he went feral on her. The last time I saw Snow without wings and a tail, Bunce had just got home from a lecture. He looks like three kids in a trench coat pretending to be a complete wanker. He hasn’t been off the sofa unless it’s to go down to the corner to buy chips and cider he ties his tail around his waist and hides his wings under a dreadful tan mackintosh-he looks like Quasimodo. He hasn’t been at uni in weeks, I’d wager.
We both pretend that Snow is studying for his exams, too. I’ve been studying all day-exams next week Bunce and I are buried in books.
With his leathery red wings tucked up behind him like a pillow and a can of cheap cider hanging off his hand. Simon Snow is pretty much always lying on the sofa these days.
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