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quiet.” I reach for her plate and start to finish off her sausages.
    â€œThere’s no peace,” she says. “Just quiet. It makes me nervous. We need a plan.”
    â€œThere is peace. Baz isn’t here yet, and look”—I wave her fork around—“there’s nothing attacking us.”
    â€œSays the man who just thrashed a goblin. Simon, ” she says, “just because we’ve been checked out for two months doesn’t mean the war took a break.”
    I groan again. “You sound like the Mage,” I say with my mouth full.
    â€œI still can’t believe he ignored you all summer.”
    â€œHe’s probably too busy with ‘the war.’”
    Penny sighs and folds her hands. She’s waiting for me to be reasonable.
    I’m going to make her wait.
    The war.
    There’s no point talking about the war. It’ll get here soon enough. It isn’t even one war: It’s two or three of them—the civil war that’s brewing, the hostilities with the dark creatures that have always been there, the whatever it is with the Humdrum—and it will all find its way to my door eventually.…
    â€œRight,” Penny repeats. And I must look miserable, because next she says, “I guess the war will still be there tomorrow.”
    I clean her plate, and Penny makes herself comfortable on Baz’s bed, and I don’t even nag her about it. I lie back on my own bed, listening to her talk about aeroplanes and American supermarkets and Micah’s big family.
    She falls asleep in the middle of telling me about a song she’s heard, a song she thinks will be a spell someday, though I can’t think of any use for “Call me maybe.”
    â€œPenelope?” She doesn’t answer. I lean off my bed and swing my pillow at her legs—that’s how close the beds are; Baz wouldn’t even have to get out of his to kill me. Or vice versa, I guess. “Penny.”
    â€œWhat?” she says into Baz’s pillow.
    â€œYou have to go back to your room.”
    â€œDon’t want to.”
    â€œYou have to. The Mage’ll suspend you if you get caught in here.”
    â€œLet him. I could use the free time.”
    I get out of bed and stand over her. Her dark hair is spread out over the pillowcase, and her glasses are smashed into her cheek. Her skirt has hiked up, and her bare thigh looks plump and smooth.
    I pinch her. She jumps up.
    â€œCome on,” I say, “I’ll walk you.”
    Penny straightens her glasses and untwists her shirt. “No. I don’t want you to see how I get past the wards.”
    â€œBecause that’s not something you’d want to share with your best friend?”
    â€œBecause it’s fun watching you try to figure it out.”
    I open my door and peek down the staircase. I don’t see or hear anyone. “Fine,” I say, holding the door open. “Good-night.”
    Penny walks past me. “Good-night, Simon. See you tomorrow.”
    I grin. I can’t help it—it’s so good to be back. “See you tomorrow.”
    As soon as I’m alone, I change into my school pyjamas—Baz brings his from home, but I like the school ones. I don’t sleep in pyjamas when I’m at the juvenile centres, I never have. It makes me feel, I don’t know—vulnerable. I change and crawl into bed, sighing.
    These nights at Watford, before Baz gets here, are the only nights in my life when I actually sleep.
    *   *   *
    I don’t know what time it is when I wake up. The room is dark, and there’s a shaft of moonlight slicing across my bed.
    I think I see a woman standing by the window, and at first I think it’s Penny. Then the figure shifts, and I think it’s Baz.
    Then I decide I’m dreaming and fall back into sleep.

 
    6
    LUCY
    I have so much I want to tell you.
    But time is short.
    And my voice doesn’t