We follow her down the long staircase. Our shadows stretch taller as we descend, as if they would reach for the safety of our beds. We slip into the great hall, to Felicity’s tent, and sit on the floor, legs crossed, as we have so many times before.

Ann chews her bottom lip and watches me.

“Ready?” Felicity asks.

I take a shaky breath and let it out. “Yes. Let’s begin.”

We clasp hands, and I do my best to clear my mind, to think of nothing but the realms. I see the green of the garden, the Caves of Sighs rising high over the singing river. That enchanted world begins to take shape behind my eyes.

“Do you see it yet?” Ann interrupts.

The view of the garden fades like a wisp of smoke. “Ann!”

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“You mustn’t unsettle her nerves!” Felicity scolds. She squeezes my hands. “Just remember, Gemma, the whole of our futures rests with you.”

Yes, thank you. I’m ever so calmed by that. “I shall need absolute quiet, if you please.”

Dutifully, they bow their heads and shut their mouths, and, already, it is like a stroke of magic.

Come now, Gemma. You mustn’t think you can’t. Imagine the door. It will come. Make it come. Will it to be.

The door doesn’t appear. I see nothing, feel nothing. Panic takes hold, whispering now-familiar questions through my soul: What if the gift was only borrowed? What if I’ve lost it forever? What if it’s all been a mistake and I’m only ordinary after all?

I open my eyes, try to steady my breathing. “I need a moment.”

“We shouldn’t have waited so long to try,” Felicity grouses. “We should have gone in straightaway, in January. Why did we wait?”

“I wasn’t ready to return then,” I say.

“You were waiting for him to come back,” Felicity says. “Well, he’s not coming.”

“I wasn’t waiting for Kartik,” I snap, stung through and through. She’s partly right, of course. But only partly. An image of Miss Moore drifts into my head. I see her determined jaw, the pocket watch in her hand, the way she looked when she was our beloved teacher, before we knew her to be Circe. Before I killed her. “I…I wasn’t ready yet. That’s all.”

Felicity fixes me with a cool stare. “You did nothing to be sorry for. She deserved to die.”

“Let’s try again,” Ann says. She offers her hands, and I see the bumpy welts of this evening’s little cuts.

“Right. Third time’s the charm,” I joke, though I’m anything but lighthearted.

I close my eyes and slow my breathing, trying again to clear my mind of everything but the realms and a way in. Heat pools in my stomach, teasing. It is like repeatedly striking a dull match that will not burn. Come on, come on. For a moment, it flares to life, the familiar fire catching on the tinder of my desires. I see the softly swaying olive trees in the garden. The sweet river. And I see the door of light. Ha! Oh, yes! I have missed this! Now I need only to make it stay….

The image fades, and in its place, I see Circe’s ghostly face beneath the cold water of the well. Her eyes snap open. “Gemma…”

With a gasp, I break off, and the power is gone. I can feel the realms receding like a tide I’m helpless to pull to the shore. No matter how much I try to get it back, I can’t.

Ann lets go first. She’s accustomed to disappointment and quicker to recognize defeat. “I’m going to bed.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. The weight of their unhappiness makes it hard to breathe. “I don’t know what has happened.”

Felicity shakes her head. “I don’t understand how this could be. You bound the magic to yourself. We should be able to get it without any trouble at all.”

We should, but we can’t. I can’t. And with each failed attempt, my confidence wanes. What if I should never get back?

Long after my friends have gone to sleep, I sit in my bed, hugging my knees to my chest with my eyes closed tight. I beg the door of light to appear with a single repeated word. Please, please, please… I beg until my voice is raspy with tears and desperation, till the early dawn casts its unforgiving light on me, till I am left with only what I cannot bring myself to say—that I have lost my magic, and that I am nothing without it.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE OLDHAM SANITARIUM, AN HOUR’S TRAIN RIDE FROM London, is a large white estate surrounded by a vast, pleasing lawn. Several chairs have been set out so that the residents may take some sun as often as they like.