The Sweet Far Thing
Page 25

“What’s remarkable is that there isn’t a single blasted corset among them,” Felicity says with a giggle. “Oh, Gemma, let’s do hurry. I can’t wait much longer.”
The path leads us through tall fields of wheat, past neat rows of olive trees and the grotto where the Runes of the Oracle once stood. At last we find ourselves in the garden we have come to think of as our own private fiefdom.
The moment we’re on familiar ground, Felicity is running. “Pippa?” she calls. “Pippa! Pippa, it’s me, Felicity! We’ve come back!” She searches every corner. “Where is she?”
I cannot bring myself to say what I’m thinking—that our dear friend Pippa is lost to us forever now. Either she has crossed the river to the land beyond or she has banded together with the Winterlands creatures and become our enemy.
I am waiting for the magic to spark inside me, but it doesn’t behave as it has in the past. I am out of practice. Right. Begin with something simple, Gemma. I grab a handful of leaves and close my fingers over them.
I shut my eyes. My heart flutters a few beats faster, and then a sudden fever takes me. It is as if the whole of the world—all experience, past and present—flows through me as quickly as lightning. My blood pulses with new life. A rapturous smile spreads across my lips. And when I open my eyes, the leaves have turned to rubies in my palm.
“Ha! Look!” I shriek. I toss the gems into the air and they fall like red rain.
“Oh, it’s been so long since we’ve played with magic.” Ann gathers leaves in her hands and blows. The leaves fly on her breath, then drift in a slow spiral to her feet. She frowns. “I wanted them to become butterflies.”
“Here, let me try.” Felicity grabs a handful, but no matter how hard she tries, they become nothing new; they are only leaves. “Why can’t I change them? What’s happened to the magic? How were you able to make the rubies, Gemma?”
“I simply wished it, and there they were,” I say.
“Gemma, you clever girl! You did bind the Temple magic to yourself after all!” Felicity says with a mix of awe and envy. “Every bit of it must live inside you now.”
“I suppose that’s true,” I say, but I can’t make myself believe it. I turn my hands palms up, palms down, staring at them as if I’ve never seen them before. They’re the same dull, freckled hands I’ve always had, and yet…
“Do something else!” Felicity commands.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Turn that tree into a dragon—”
“Not a dragon!” Ann interrupts, wide-eyed.
“Or make the flowers into gentleman callers—”
“Yes, I like that,” Ann says.
“Oh, honestly, Gemma! You’ve the whole of the Temple inside you. Do whatever you wish!”
“All right,” I say. There’s a small rock at my feet. “Hmmm, I’ll, um, I’ll just turn this into a…a…”
“Falcon!” Felicity shouts as Ann says, “Prince!”
I touch the rock, and for a moment, I feel as if we are one and the same; I’m part of the land. Something slimy bumps against my palm with a loud ribbet. The frog looks about with big eyes, as if shocked to discover that he is no longer a rock.
Ann grimaces. “I’d hoped for a prince.”
“You could always kiss him,” I offer, and Fee laughs.
Ann pulls up a daisy and plucks its petals one by one. “If you hold all the power, Gemma, what does that mean for us?”
Felicity stops laughing. “We’ll have none of our own.”
“Once we make an alliance with the other tribes in the realms and join hands, we’ll share the magic—”
“Yes, but that could take months,” Felicity argues. “What about now?”
Ann cradles the mangled daisy in her lap. She won’t even look at me. A moment ago I was overjoyed. Now I feel terribly guilty that I have this power and my friends do not.
“If I am the Temple with all its magic,” I say, haltingly, “then I should be able to give some to you as the Temple has always given it to us.”
“I want to try,” Felicity says. She puts a hand to my arm. Her craving warms the skin beneath my sleeve, and I want to shake it off. For if I give it to her, will I be left with less? Will she have more?
“Gemma?” Felicity says. Her eyes are so very hopeful, and I’m a rotten friend for thinking of denying her.
“Give me your hands,” I say. Within seconds, we are joined. There’s a sharp pull, almost an exquisite pain. It’s as if we’re the same person for a moment. I can hear echoes of her wishes inside my head. Freedom. Power. Pippa. Pippa is the strongest wish, and I feel Fee’s ache for our missing friend like a deep wound. We break apart, and I have to steady myself against a tree for a second.