“What do you mean? Why would they feel guilty?” Theresa asked.
Eliza’s mouth was dry. “Because we had the chance to save Catherine, and we failed,” she said, one single tear spilling down her cheek. “We promised them we could bring her back. We set them up for failure. They believe . . . they believe Catherine is still dead because of them. Because of us. Don’t you feel that way, Theresa?”
Theresa took a breath. “No,” she said. “We tried, Eliza. Most people wouldn’t have even done that.”
“Well, even if you don’t feel it, they—we—do,” Eliza said, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched Alice slowly turn the page in her Bible. “That sort of pain doesn’t just go away.”
For a long moment, none of them spoke. All three of them just watched the others—watched them ignoring one another, watched them not living their lives.
“All right, then. We have to find a way to help them move on,” Theresa said finally. “We have to help them put this whole mess behind them and start over.”
“But how?” Eliza asked.
Helen stood up, dusted her hands off, and turned to them. “I know we said we were done with magic, but perhaps we need to cast one last spell.”
This Pain
Eliza stood in the center of the temple with Theresa and Helen, the other eight members of the coven gathered in a circle around them. It was Saturday afternoon, and Miss Almay had gone off campus for a visit with her sister in Norfolk. If the girls were going to put Helen’s plan in motion, now was the time.
“What are we doing here?” Clarissa snipped, hugging herself against the chill. “No one wants to be here, you know.”
“Clarissa is right. You don’t intend for us to be casting spells again, do you?” Marilyn asked, holding Genevieve’s hand.
Bia and Viola stood huddled near the door, while the others eyed Eliza, Theresa, and Helen with suspicion. Eliza ignored their questions. She looked into Theresa’s brown eyes and held her breath.
“Ready?” Helen asked. She pressed a single grape leaf into each of their palms.
“Ready,” Theresa and Eliza replied.
The three girls clasped hands, their leaves pressing together, and recited the incantation.
“Sleep, sisters, sleep, and dream your fondest dream. Take no note of what we do. Things are not what they seem.”
This time, there was no dizziness whatsoever. A warm wind swirled up and out from the tight circle, lifting Eliza’s hair straight up from her head. When it died down, she glanced at Helen and Theresa for courage, then turned around.
All eight girls had fallen fast asleep where they stood. Lavender was even snoring. Alice swayed slightly on her feet but didn’t tip over.
“Let’s get to work,” Theresa said determinedly. She walked over to Jane and touched her fingertips to Jane’s forehead. “When you wake, you will be free of this pain,” she said. And Jane’s head nodded forward, her chin ducking toward her neck.
Eliza stepped up to Clarissa and placed her fingers against the sleeping girl’s forehead. “When you wake, you will be free of this pain.” Clarissa’s head nodded forward.
Standing in front of Alice next, as Helen and Theresa worked on the other girls, Eliza took a deep breath. She hoped that when Alice awoke, she would be back to her formerly vibrant, bright-eyed self. She hoped that she would be free of this fear of retribution, this overwhelming guilt that had consumed her. She reached out, touched Alice’s forehead, and closed her eyes, channeling all her energy into her friend.
“When you wake, you will be free of this pain.”
Alice’s head nodded, her red curls grazing her cheeks. Eliza smiled slightly, hoping she had done right by her friend.
“All right. We’re done,” Theresa said, her long, azure blue skirt swishing about her ankles as she turned. “Let’s get them upstairs.”
Helen placed her hands gently on Genevieve’s shoulders and turned her toward the stairs. Then she took Marilyn by the hand and walked her toward Genevieve. Marilyn went along, being led like a sleepwalking child. Helen lifted Marilyn’s right hand and placed it on Genevieve’s right shoulder. Catching on, Eliza set about helping form the chain. Lavender’s hand met Marilyn’s shoulder. Then Clarissa, then Alice, then Viola, then Bia, then Jane.
“I’ll take the front, and you girls take the rear,” Helen said. Then she walked to the front of the line, placed Genevieve’s hand on her own shoulder, and began to walk. Each of the sleeping girls stepped forward as her arm was tugged by the girl in front of her. The chain loped up the winding staircase in silence, never missing a step. Eliza and Theresa stayed behind on the floor of the temple for a moment, looking at each other in awe.
“That Helen really knows her magic,” Theresa said.
“Thank goodness,” Eliza replied. She took a deep breath and let it out, feeling relieved. If this spell worked, at least her friends would be released from their misery. That was something.
At the end of the chain, Jane started up the first step. Eliza looked around the temple and felt a pang of regret and nostalgia. What they had done here in this room had been exciting. It had opened up so many possibilities. But now, those possibilities were gone forever.