But there is no answer to that question. For the girls in white have returned. And they are not alone. They've brought the fearsome creature I've seen in my vision, the one who followed us back from the Caves of Sighs--a tracker. It emerges from behind them in the darkness, rising, spreading out till we are forced to look up at the vast, roiling expanse of it. The girls step inside it like children clinging to a mother's skirts.

"At last . . . ," it says.

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Run. Get away. Can't move. The fear. Such fear. The wings unfurl revealing the horrible faces within. The hate. The terror.

Miss Moore pushes me out of the way, her voice strong. "Run!"

We tumble down the black rock. The slide is rough. It cuts my hands, but we reach the ground quickly.

"Get to the gorgon," Felicity shouts. She is in the lead, Pippa just behind. I'm pulling Ann, who can barely run. But where is Miss Moore? I see her! She appears in the sulfur green mist. The beast and the girls are close on her heels.

She waves us on. "Go! Go!"

Pulling Ann along, I run as fast as I can till I see the gorgon in the shallows. The four of us clamber onto the boat.

Miss Moore emerges, but the thing is quick. It blocks her path.

"Miss Moore!" I shout.

"No! Gemma, run!" she shouts. "Do not wait for me!"

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With a mighty groan, the gorgon sets us back on course for the garden. I climb to the railing, but Felicity and Pippa pull at my arms. I'm fighting like a madwoman.

"Gorgon, stop this instant! I'm ordering you to stop!"

But she doesn't. We're slipping away from the shore, where that terrible creature towers over my friend.

"Miss Moore! Miss Moore!" I shout till my voice is raw, till I've no voice left."Miss Moore," I croak, sliding to the deck of the boat.

We're back in the garden. My eyes are raw from crying. I'm exhausted and sick. I turn to the gorgon.

"Why didn't you stop when I ordered you to do so?"

That thick, scaly head rolls slowly toward me. "I am ordered first to bring no harm to you, Most High."

"We could have saved her!" I cry.

The head swivels away. "I think not."

"Gemma," Ann says gently. "You've got to make the door."

Felicity and Pippa sit together, arms intertwined, loathe to leave each other.

I close my eyes.

"Gemma," Ann says. "Circe's creature got her, and I wasn't able to stop it."

No one has a comforting thing to say.

"I'm going to kill her," I say, my words hard as steel."I'm going to face her, and then I shall kill her."

It takes tremendous effort to make the door of light appear. The others must steady me. But finally it shimmers into view. Pippa waves goodbye and blows kisses to us all. I'm the last to go through, and as I wait, I glance one last time at Pippa. She's pulled something out from its hiding place behind a tree. It's the carcass of a small animal. She stares at it longingly before crouching low, sitting on her haunches like some beast herself. She brings the flesh to her mouth and feeds, her eyes gone white with hunger.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

MISS MOORE IS GONE. SHE IS GONE. I'VE NOT FOUND the Temple. The Rakshana were wrong to trust me with this task. I am not Nell Hawkins's Lady Hope. I am not the Most High, the one to bring back the glory of the Order and the magic. I am Gemma Doyle, and I have failed.

I am so tired. My body aches; my head feels stuffed with cotton. I should like to lie down and sleep for days. I am too tired even to undress. I lie across my bed. The room swirls for a moment, and then I am fast asleep and dreaming.

I'm flying over darkened, rain-slicked streets, through alleys where filthy children gnaw at mealy bread thick with buzzing insects. I fly on, till I'm floating down the halls of Bethlem and into Nell Hawkins's room.

"Lady Hope," she whispers."What have you done?"

I don't understand. I cannot answer. There are footsteps in the corridor.

"What have you done? What have you done?" she shouts. "Jack and Jill went up the hill; Jack and Jill went up the hill; Jack and Jill went up the hill."

I'm floating away on her ramblings, floating high above the corridor, where the lady in the green cloak sweeps down the darkened hall, unnoticed. I'm floating out into the inky night over St. George's when I hear Nell Hawkins's faint, stifled cry.

I do not know how late I have slept, what day it is, or where I am when I am awakened by an anxious Mrs. Jones.

"Miss, miss! You'd best dress quickly. Lady Denby has come to call with Mr. Simon. Your grandmother sent me to fetch you straightaway."

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