The story is supposed to be over.
Simon Snow did everything he was supposed to do. He beat the villain. He won the war. He even fell in love. Now comes the good part, right? Now comes the happily ever after... So why can't Simon Snow get off the cou...
Simon Snow did everything he was supposed to do. He beat the villain. He won the war. He even fell in love. Now comes the good part, right? Now comes the happily ever after... So why can't Simon Snow get off the couch? What he needs, according to his best friend, is a change of scenery. He just needs to see himself in a new light... That's how Simon and Penny and Baz end up in a vintage convertible, tearing across the American West.
They find trouble, of course. (Dragons, vampires, skunk-headed things with shotguns.) And they get lost. They get so lost, they start to wonder whether they ever knew where they were headed in the first place . . .
Come on, Simon Snow. Your hero's journey might be over – but your life has just begun.
Here is an excerpt from the novel:——————————————————————
Maya Angelou said that when someone shows you who they are, you should believe them.
I heard that on an inspirational television show. It came on after Law & Order, and I didn't change the channel.
When someone shows you who they are, believe them. That's what I'm going to say when I break up with Baz.
I'm doing it so that he doesn't have to. I can tell he wants to end this. I can see it in the way he looks at me. Or in the way he doesn't look at me—because if he did, he'd have to face what a tosser he's saddled himself with. What an absolute loser.
Baz is at uni now. Thriving.
And he's as handsome as ever. (More handsome than ever. Taller, bolder, with a beard now anytime he wants one. Like adolescence isn't quite done dealing him aces.)
Everything that happened last year . . .
Everything that happened with the Mage and the Hum-drum just made Baz more of who he was meant to be. He avenged his mother. He solved the mystery that's hung over him since he was five. He proved himself as a man and a magician.
He proved himself right: The Mage really was evil! And I really was a fraud—"the worst Chosen One who's ever been chosen," just like Baz used to say. He was right about me all along.
When someone shows you who they are, believe them.
When someone fucks up absolutely everything—that person is an absolute fuck-up.
I don't know how to make it any more clear to him. I lie here on the sofa. And I don't have any plans. And I don't have any promise. And this is what I am.
Baz fell in love with what I was—power and potential unchecked. Nuclear bombs are nothing but potential.
Now I'm what comes after.
Now I'm the three-headed frog. The radioactive fallout. I think Baz would have broken up with me by now if he didn't feel so sorry for me. (And if he hadn't promised to love me. Magicians get hung up on honour.)
So I'll be the one to do it. I can do it. One time, an orc-upine shot a needle into my shoulder, and I tore it out with my own teeth—I can handle pain.
I just . . .
I wanted a few more nights of this. Of him being here in the room with me, mine on the surface at least. I'll never have someone like Baz again. There is no one like Baz; it's like dating someone out of a legend. He's a heroic vampire, a gifted magician. He's dead handsome. (I used to be someone out of a legend. I was Foretold, you know? I used to be part of the oral tradition.)
I wanted a few more nights of this . . . But I hate watching Baz suffer. I hate being the reason he
suffers. "Baz," I say. I sit up and set down my can of cider. (Baz hates cider, even the smell of it.)
He's standing at the front door. "Yes?" I swallow. "When someone shows you who they are—"
Penny bursts in then, jamming Baz's shoulder with the door. "For Crowley's sake, Bunce!"
"I've got it!" Penny drops her backpack. She's wearing a baggy purple T-shirt, and her dark brown hair is scraped into a messy knot at the top of her head.
"Got what?" Baz frowns. "We"—she points at Baz and me both—"are going on holiday!"
I rub my palms into my eyes. They're crunchy with sleep, even though I've been up for hours. "Not going on holiday," I mumble.
"To America!"
she persists. She pushes my feet off the sofa and sits on the arm, facing me. "To see Agatha!"
Baz barks out a laugh. "Ha! Does Agatha know we're coming?"
"It'll be a surprise!" Penny says.
"Surprise!" Baz sing-songs. "It's your ex-boyfriend and his boyfriend and that girl you never liked very much!" "Agatha likes me fine!" Penny sounds offended. "She's just not an effusive person."
Baz snorts. "She seemed pretty effusive about getting the fuck out of England and away from magic."
"I'm worried about her, if you must know. She hasn't been returning my texts." "Because she doesn't like you, Bunce."
