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There is a signature, but I don't need to read it. I recognize the handwriting.

It belongs to Kartik.

CHAPTER THREE

KARTIK IS HERE, SOMEWHERE, WATCHING ME AGAIN.

This is the thought that consumes me during vespers. He is here and needs to speak to me. Immediately, his note said. Why? What is so urgent? My stomach is a tight fist of fear and excitement. Kartik is back.

"Gemma,''Ann whispers."Your prayer book."

I've been so absorbed that I've forgotten to open my prayer book and pretend to follow along. From her position in the front pew, Mrs. Nightwing turns to glare at me as only she can. I read a bit more loudly than is necessary so as to seem enthusiastic. Our headmistress, satisfied at my piety, faces forward again, and soon I am lost in new, troubled thoughts. What if the Rakshana have finally sent for me? What if Kartik is here to take me to them?

A shudder travels the length of my spine. I shan't let him do that. He shall have to come for me, and I won't go down without a solid fight. Kartik, Who does he think he is? Kartik. Perhaps he'll try to take me unawares? Sneak up behind me and wrap his strong arms about my waist? A struggle would ensue, of course. I would fight him, though he is quite strong, as I recall. Kartik, Perhaps we would fall to the ground, and he would pin me with the weight of his body, his arms holding mine down, his legs atop mine. I'd be his prisoner then, unable to move, his face so very near my own that I could smell the sweetness of his breath and feel its heat on my lips. . . .

"Gemma!" Felicity whispers sharply from my right side.

Flushed and flustered, I snap to attention and read aloud the first line of the Bible that I see. Too late I realize that mine is the only voice in the silence. My outburst startles everyone, as if I have had a sudden religious conversion. The girls giggle in astonishment. My cheeks grow hot. Reverend Waite narrows his eyes at me. I daren't look at Mrs. Nightwing for fear that her withering glare will reduce me to ash. Instead, I do as the others and bow my head for prayer. In seconds, Reverend Waite's reedy voice drifts over our heads, nearly putting me to sleep. "What ever were you thinking about?" Felicity whispers. "Your expression was very strange."

"I was lost in prayer," I answer guiltily.

She attempts to say something to this, but I lean forward, my gaze intent on Reverend Waite, and she cannot reach me without invoking the ire of Mrs. Nightwing.

Kartik. I have missed him, I find. Yet I know that if he is here, the news cannot be good.

The prayer has ended. Reverend Waite gives a benediction to us, his flock, and turns us out into the world. Dusk has rolled in, quiet as a ghost ship, and with it has come the familiar fog. In the distance, the lights of Spence beckon. An owl hoots. Strange. There haven't been many owls about lately. But there it is again. It's coming from the trees to my right. Through the fog, I can see something glowing. A lantern rests at the base of a tree.

It's him. I know it.

"What's the matter?" Ann asks, seeing that I've stopped.

"I've a pebble in my boot," I say. "You carry on. I won't be a moment."

For a second, I stand perfectly still, wanting to see him, wanting to be sure he is no haunt of my mind. The owl sound comes again, making me jump. Behind me, Reverend Waite closes the chapel's oak doors with a boom, cutting off the light. One by one, the girls disappear into the fog ahead, their voices growing faint. Ann turns around, half swallowed by gray.

"Gemma, come along!" Her voice drifts over the mist in echoes before it is gobbled completely.

. . . ma . . . come , . . long . . . ong . . . ong . . .

The owl's call comes from the trees, more insistent this time. The dark has come down hard in the last few minutes. There is only the glow from Spence and this one lonely light in the woods. I am alone on the path. In a flash, I pull up my skirt hem and rush headlong after Ann with a most unladylike shout. "Wait for me! I'm coming!"

CHAPTER FOUR

THIS IS WHAT I KNOW OF THE STORY OF THE ORDER.

They were once the most powerful women imaginable, for they were the keepers of the magical power that ruled the realms. There, where most mortals came only during dreams or after death, it was the Order who helped spirits cross over the river into the world beyond all worlds. It was the Order who helped them complete their souls' tasks, if need be, so that they could move on. And it was the Order who could wield that formidable power in this world to cast illusions, to shape lives, and to influence the course of history. But that was before two initiates who were attending Spence, Mary Dowd and Sarah Rees-Toome, brought destruction to the Order.

Sarah, who called herself Circe after the powerful Greek sorceress, was Mary's dearest friend. While Mary's power continued to grow, Sarah's began to fade. The realms had not chosen her to continue on the path.

Desperate to hold on to the power she craved, Sarah made a pact with one of the dark spirits of the realms in a forbidden place called the Winterlands. In exchange for the power to enter the realms at will, she promised it a sacrifice--a little Gypsy girl--and she convinced Mary to go along with her plan. With that one act, they bound themselves to the dark spirit and destroyed the power of the Order. To keep the spirits from entering this world, Eugenia Spence, the founder of Spence and a high priestess of the Order, stayed behind, sacrificing herself to the creature, and the Order lost their leader. Her last act was to toss her amulet--the crescent eye--to Mary and bid her to close the realms for good so that nothing could escape. Mary did, but she struggled with Sarah over the amulet, knocking over a candle. A terrible fire raged through the East Wing of Spence, and indeed, the damaged wing is still locked and unused today. It was assumed that both girls died in the fire, along with Eugenia. No one knew that as the fire raged, Mary escaped into the caves behind the school, leaving behind the diary we would eventually discover. Sarah was never found. Mary went into hiding in India, where she married John Doyle and was reborn as Virginia Doyle, my mother. Unable to enter the realms, the members of the Order scattered, looking and waiting for a time when they could claim their magical world and their power once more.

For twenty years, nothing happened. The story of the Order faded from legend to myth--until June 21, 1895, my sixteenth birthday. That is the day that the magic of the Order began to come alive again--in me. That is the day that Sarah Rees-Toome, Circe, finally came for us. She had not died in that horrible fire after all, and she had been using her corrupt bond with that dark spirit of the Winterlands to plot her revenge. One by one, she hunted down the members of the Order, looking for the daughter who was being whispered about, the girl who could enter the realms and bring back the glory and the power. That is the day that I had my first vision, when I saw my mother die, hunted by Circe's assassin--that supernatural creature who also brutally murdered Amar of the Rakshana, a cult of men who both protect and fear the power of the Order. It was the day I first met Kartik, Amar's younger brother, who would become my guardian and tormentor, bound to me by duty and sorrow.

It was the day that would come to shape the rest of my life. For afterward, I was sent here to Spence. My visions led me to enter the realms with my friends, where I was reunited with my mother and learned of my birthright to the Order; where my friends and I used the magic of the runes to change our lives; where I fought Circe's assassin and smashed the Runes of the Oracle--those stones that hold magic; where my mother died at last, and our friend Pippa, also. I watched her choose to stay, watched her walk hand in hand with a handsome knight into a place of no return. Pippa, my friend.

9;s him. I know it.

"What's the matter?" Ann asks, seeing that I've stopped.

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