BAZ

What in Merlin's name are you up to, Snow?

"Up to? Nothing. I'm not up to anything." Then he seems to think better of it. "Well, I mean… I'm not. I am— you know what I'm up to. The note… " He gestures towards me, as though the jumble of words he's just spit in my direction will have cleared everything up.

"Oh yes," I say. "This piece of rubbish." I pull it from the pocket of my suit jacked where it's been weighing me down all day and summon a small ball of fire in my palm. The only note Simon Snow has ever given me goes up in flames. It hurts me to do it, but this has to stop. I almost fell for it, that's how weak I am. I've only been back at Watford a couple of days and of course Simon's noticed I'm not myself. He's not a bad tactician, particularly when Bunce is working with him, and he's taking advantage. Letting him hold my hand this morning was a huge mistake.

"Tell me what's really going on. Or it won't just be a piece of paper next time," I say, blowing the ash off of my palm and into Simon's face.

He coughs, then splutters. "Didn't you read it?"

I raise an eyebrow, and he blunders on.

"That's what's really going on. What it said in the note. Penny spelled me, like you spelled yourself the other night. We can see each other Baz, under karma chameleon. That means something."

He does have me there. Despite my protestations to the contrary the other night, I know there was nothing wrong with my spellwork. And Bunce never makes mistakes. Not with spells anyway.