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CHAPTER ELEVEN
After dinner, I pretend I've got a headache and Mrs. Nightwing sends me straight to bed with a hot-water bottle. It means passing up an invitation to Felicity's suddenly open sanctuary in the great hallthanks to my newfound status as the keeper of her secretsbut there's only one thought in my mind: There has to be a way to control my visions rather than have them control me.
I'm in the hallway when a small thump stops me. Shadows flit across the floor and wall. Someone is in my room. Heart racing, spine flat against the wall, I creep toward my room and peek in. Kartik is at my desk, no doubt leaving me another cryptic warning. Right. Not this time. Fast as I can, I streak to the open window where he's come in and latch it tight. He whips around, ready for a fight.
"There's only one way out now," I say, breathless.
His eyes narrow. "Step aside."
"Not until you answer a few questions."
I've blocked off his only means of escape. If I make a sound, scream, he'll be caught. For the moment, he's trapped. He folds his arms across his chest and glares, waiting for me to talk.
"What are you doing in my room?"
"Nothing," he says, crumpling the paper in his fist tightly enough for me to hear it.
"Leaving another message?"
He shrugs. We're going nowhere fast.
"Why did you help me today in the woods?"
"You needed it."
My temper flares. "I most certainly did not."
He scoffs, and it makes him look less menacing. He's all of seventeen again. "As you wish."
"My plan worked, didn't it?"
The arms unfold. His eyes widen. "Your plan worked because I talked Ithal into leaving. What do you think would have happened if I hadn't?"
The truth is that I don't know. I can't think of anything to say.
"Right. I'll tell you. That stubborn Gypsy would have stayed and your little friend who likes to play with fire would have been very badly burnedexpelled, ruined socially, whispered about for the rest of her life." He mimics the high, prim voice of a society matron." 'Oh, did you hear about her? Oh, my dear, yes, caught in the woods with a heathen.' Tell your friend to stick to her own kind and stop toying with Ithal."
;Sometimes she is such a child," Felicity says when we're a few steps behind them all.
"I thought you were the best of friends."
"I adore Pippa. Really. But she's very sheltered. There are things I could never tell her. Like Ithal. But you understand. I can tell that you do. I think we're going to be great friends, Gemma."
"Would we still be great friends if I didn't hold a secret over your head?" I ask.
"Don't friends always share secrets?"
Would I ever share my secrets with any of these girls? Or would they run in horror to know the truth about me? Up ahead, Miss Moore shepherds the younger girls through the trees and out onto the great lawn. She watches us with a curious expression, as if we're windows into the past. Ghosts.
"Come along, girls" she calls. "Don't dawdle."
"Dawdle? I can barely breathe from trudging up this hill at a gallop!" Felicity sniffs.
"How long has Miss Moore taught at Spencer?" I ask.
"She arrived this past summer. She's a breath of fresh air in this staid old place, I can tell you that. Oh, what's this?" Felicity says.
"What's what?" I ask.
