Carry On: The Rise and Fall of Simon Snow

by Rainbow Rowell

He grabs my hand. I want to pull it away, but I don’t want to look scared—and also I don’t want to pull it away. Bloody Snow. I’m thinking violent thoughts at him right now. “I’m going to try now,” he says. “Fine.” “Should you be casting a spell?” “I don’t know,” I say. “This is your experiment.” “Don’t, then,” he says. “Not right away. But tell me if it hurts.” “It didn’t hurt before,” I mutter. “It didn’t?” “No.” “What did it feel like?” “Stop talking about feelings,” I say, shaking his hand. “Hit me. Or charge me. Whatever it is you want to do.” Snow licks his bottom lip and closes his eyes halfway. Is this how he looked this afternoon? Crowley. I feel his magic. At first it’s a buzz in my fingertips, then a rush of static up my arm. I try not to squirm. “Okay?” he asks. His voice is soft. “Fine. What are you doing?” “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “Opening? I guess?” The static in my arm settles into a heavy thrum, like electrical sparks catching into flames. The discomfort goes away, even though the licking, flaming feeling gets stronger. This I know what to do with: This is fire. “Still okay?” he asks.