A Great and Terrible Beauty (Gemma Doyle #1) - Page 73/116

"You have to take us," Felicity says.

"I'm not certain what we'll find there. I'm not certain of anything, not anymore," I answer.

Felicity holds out her hand. "I'm willing to risk it."

I catch sight of a symbol I've never noticed before at the very bottom of a cave wall. It's partially defaced, but some of it is still visible. A woman and a swan. At first glance, it seems as if she's being attacked by the great white bird, but on closer inspection, it seems as if the woman and the swan are joined together as one. A great mythical creature. A woman prepared to fly, even if she has to lose her legs to do it.

I grab Felicity's outstretched hand. Her fingers laced in mine are strong.

"Let's go," I say.

We light candles, place them in the center of our circle and crowd around their light, holding hands.

"What do we do now?" Felicity asks. The candlelight throws her shadow, tall and thin as a spire, on the wall.

"I've only been able to control it the one time, when I tried to get back tonight," I say in warning. I don't want to disappoint them. What if I'm unable to do it again and they think I've made up all of it?

Pippa is the first to be afraid. "Sounds a bit dodgy to me. Perhaps we shouldn't attempt this." No one answers her. "Don't you agree, Ann?"

I'm ready for Ann to join Pippa but she doesn't say a word.

"Oh, all right, then. But when it turns out to be some elaborate hoax, I shall say I told you so and not feel one bit of sympathy for you."

"Pay her no attention," Felicity says to me.

I can't help paying her attention. I have the same fear.

"My mother said that I should concentrate on the image of a door" I say, trying to gain control of my doubts.

"What kind of door?" Ann wants to know. "A red door, a wooden door, large, small ?"

Pippa sighs. "Best tell her the kind, or she won't be able to concentrate. You know she needs the rules before we start anything."

"A door of light," I say. This satisfies Ann. I take a deep breath. "Close your eyes."

Should I say something to get under way? If so, what? In the past, I have slipped, fallen, been sucked down into this tunnel. But this time is different. How should I start? Instead of searching for the right words, I close my eyes and let the words find me.

"I choose this."

Whispers grow in the corners of the cave. They swell into a hum. The next second, the world drops out from under me. Felicity is holding my hand tighter. Pippa gasps. They're frightened. A tingling flows down my arms, connecting me to the others. I could stop now. Obey Kartik and reverse this. But the humming draws me in, and I have to know what's on the other side of it, no matter what. The hum stops and bends into a shudder that flows through my body like a melody, and when I open my eyes there's the glorious outline of a door of light, shimmering and beckoning as if it's been there the whole time just waiting for me to find it.

Ann's face is awed. "Criminy"

"Do you see that ?" Pippa asks in wonder.

Felicity tries to open it but her hand swipes clean through. The door is like a projection in a magic-lantern show. None of them can open it.

"Gemma, you try," Felicity says.

In the incandescent light of the door, my hand seems like someone else'san angel's limb exposed for a moment. The knob feels solid and warm under my fingers. Somethings bubbling up on the surface of the door. A shape. The outline glows stronger and now I can see the familiar markings of the crescent eye. My own necklace glows like the one on the door, as if they're calling to each other. Suddenly, the knob turns easily in my hand.

"You did it," Ann says.

"Yes, I did, didn't I?" I'm smiling in spite of my fear.

The door opens, and we step through into a world drenched in such vivid colors, it hurts my eyes to look at it. When I adjust, I drink it up in small gulps. There are trees dripping leaves of green-gold and red-orange. The sky is a purplish blue on top of a horizon bathed in an orange glow, like a sunset that never fades. Tiny lavender blossoms float by on a warm breeze that smells faintly of my childhood--lilies and Father's tobacco and curry in Sarita's kitchen. A thick ribbon of river slices through, dividing our patch of dew-drenched grass from a bank on the other side.

Pippa touches a finger to a leaf. It curls in on itself, melts, re-forms as a butterfly and drifts heavenward. "Oh, it's all so beautiful."

"Extraordinary," Ann says.