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“Surely you do not believe it also?”
I don’t know what I believe anymore. The Order has some plan, and I intend to have answers about that when I leave. We’ve reached the Caves of Sighs. “Asha, I need to be alone.”
She bows again, shielding her eyes. “As you wish, Lady Hope.”
Circe’s body floats beneath the glasslike surface of the well. She seems weightless, yet I feel her presence so heavily I can scarcely breathe.
“So you’ve come back after all.”
I need your help. Try as I might, I cannot choke out those words.
“Something is at hand, and I want to know what it is!”
Her voice is like a dying woman’s. “You understand…the price…for my counsel?”
I swallow hard. Once this has begun, there is no turning back. And if I give her magic as she wants, who is to say that she can’t cause me harm? “Yes. I understand.”
“And you would give it…of your own free will?”
“What choice do I have?” I retort, and then I laugh bitterly, knowing full well what her response shall be. “Yes, I know, there is always a choice. Very well. I choose to give you what you want in exchange for what I need.”
“Of your own free will…”
“Yes, I give it of my own free will!” I snap.
“Then come to me,” she whispers, no more loudly than the rustling of silk.
I approach the well, where her body presses against the seal of water like a phantom. It takes every bit of strength I have to look into those staring eyes.
“Listen closely, Gemma,” she says in her slow, hoarse whisper. “Do exactly as I say, else you will kill me and know nothing.”
“I’m listening,” I say.
“Put your hand on the surface of the well and bestow it with life—”
“But I thought it would kill—”
“Just until the seal breaks and the water clears.”
My fingers linger on the edge of the well. Go on, then, Gemma. Get it over with. Slowly, I lower my trembling hands to the surface and rest them there. It is like a sheet of ice that melts at my touch. The water clears and Circe rises till her face is nearly breaking the surface.
“Good, good,” she whispers. “Now, place your palm over my heart and give me a small bit of magic—but only a small token. I am weak and cannot take more.”
My hand sinks into those waters until it is flush against the soggy fabric of Circe’s bodice, and I stifle a scream.
“Now,” she sighs.
Soon, the magic travels between us, an invisible thread. I feel nothing of her thoughts, only my own reflected to me.
“There,” I say, pulling quickly away.
Miss Moore rises until she’s floating peacefully on the surface. Her cheeks and lips show the palest hint of pink. Those unseeing eyes blink for the first time. Her voice gains strength.
“Thank you, Gemma,” she murmurs.
“I’ve done what you asked. Now I’ll have my answers.”
“Of course.”
