The Sweet Far Thing
“Asha, have the forest folk come?”
“I have not seen them,” she answers. “Are you well, Lady Hope?”
No. I am not well. I am diseased with hate. “Stand by. I may have need of you.”
“As you wish, Lady Hope.”
Face your fears. That’s what the well is for. I’m ready. And after tonight, I’ll have nothing more to fear.
The room is warm. Close. And the floor is wet. Water trickles from tiny cracks in the well.
“Circe,” I call.
“Hello, Gemma,” she answers, and my name echoes in the cave.
“I know you’ve made a pact with the Winterlands creatures. You were in league with them all along. But now I have the dagger, and I’ll set things right.”
It’s quiet save for the trickling of the water.
“Do you deny you wanted my power?”
“I’ve never denied that,” she says, and there is nothing of the careful whisper to her voice now. “You say you have the dagger?”
“I do, and I’ll return it to Eugenia, and all your plotting will be for nothing,” I say. “Wilhelmina Wyatt tried to warn me. The two of you were close—Brigid told me. And Wilhelmina told Dr. Van Ripple that her sister had betrayed her—‘A monster.’ I can think of no one that description fits more. She trusted you,” I say, fighting the magic inside me. “As my mother did. As I did for a time. But not anymore.”
“And what will you do now?”
“What I should have done already,” I say. “The forest folk are coming to make the alliance along with the Hajin. We will lay hands together at the well. I’ll return the magic and bind it. And you will die.”
A rippling sound, clear and strong, comes from the well. Movement. One of the stones pushes out of the well, and water splashes out in a stream. It is followed by another and another, and then, like some leviathan of the deep, Circe rises from the well, pink and alive.
“How—”
“I am part of this world now, Gemma. Like your friend Pippa.”
“But you were trapped….” I trail off.
“I had you give the magic to the well first, so that I could draw from it. I used it to loosen the stones. But really, the die was cast the first time you gifted me—when you gave it to me of your own will. That was all I required to be free.”
I tuck the dagger into the sheath at my waist, safely out of sight. “Then why didn’t you do this earlier?”
“I needed more magic,” she says, stepping over the broken wall. “And I am patient. It is a reward for having lived through a great deal of disappointment.”
I take a step back.
“I’d had higher hopes for you, Gemma. You’re in over your head. I shall see this Tree of All Souls for myself.”
“I won’t let you,” I say, the magic building inside. “I’ve lost enough tonight.”
With everything I have in me, I call up the magic, and then Circe flies back, landing in a heap on the floor.
She crawls to her feet, panting. “Nicely done.”
I wave my arm over the stones of the well and send them shooting toward her. She stops them inches from her face and they drop to the floor in shards.
“Your power is impressive, Gemma. How much I would have enjoyed a true friendship with you,” she says as we circle one another.
“You’re not capable of true friendship,” I snap. I reach for a shard, and it becomes a snake under Circe’s touch. I drop it fast.
“Don’t just react, Gemma. Think. The Order was right about that, at least.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” I turn Circe’s snake into a whip that gashes her across the back.
She cries out in pain, and her eyes go steely. “I see you’ve searched those dark corners after all.”
“You should know. You put them there.”
“No, I only helped you to see them,” she says, but then I’m forcing her to her knees under the magic’s heel.
“Gemma.” I hear Kartik’s voice, and when I turn, he’s there on the floor. His face is bloodied.
Abandoning Circe, I run to him. “Did she do this? How did—”
He starts to laugh. “Careful.”
Before my eyes he vanishes, an illusion. I turn and Circe unleashes her power, pinning me to the wall. “I’ve searched your dark corners, too, Gemma.”
I try to fight back, but when the magic comes, it is out of my control. It bends back on me, and I cannot see clearly. My father stands beside Circe, his eyes staring straight ahead, the laudanum bottle clutched in his hand. I see Felicity and Pippa and Ann dancing in a circle without me. Tom under Lord Denby’s sway. I close my eyes to clear the visions, but the night has been too much. My body shakes. I can’t even call out for Asha. I can do nothing but hang in Circe’s grip.