We were thrown out of the whirlwind onto a barren hilltop. A hostile, storm-racked landscape stretched around us. Through the pain and shock I recognized the place. It had once been a fort, built hundreds of years ago by the people of the valley as a stronghold against their enemies. And before that it had been a pagan temple, as near to the heavens as the ancient worshipers could get. Here I had once sat with Sebastian under the deep midnight sky, and here, it seemed, the High Mistress would play out her moment of triumph.

The wind tore across the hills and parted the clouds and the high, pure arc of the new moon shone down. A crowd of cloaked and hooded figures stood around us, chanting in a circle like a gathering swarm. They didn’t seem to be able to see us. We were hidden by Mrs. Hartle’s paralyzing will, still unable to speak or move or think clearly. As she stood shrouded in mist, watching her Sisters, everything swam in front of my eyes like a haunted dream.

“This is the hour,” one of the women intoned. It was Miss Raglan. She stepped forward from the ranks of the coven and raised her arms to the moon. “Our moment of destiny is upon us.”

“Only the High Mistress can lead the coven to its destiny,” replied a cool, dry voice, and I recognized Miss Scratton under the veil of her cloak.

“No doubt you want that honor for yourself!” snapped Miss Raglan angrily. “But our Sisters have seen through your plots. You will never lead this coven. Here and now, by the light of the moon, surrounded by the wild elements, I shall become the new High Mistress and achieve our long quest!”

The crowd behind her began to roar their approval, and a frenzied chanting began, but Miss Scratton shouted, “Fool! Do you not know that this coven still has a High Mistress? And that she is here among you?”

The chanting faltered, and there was another tremendous crack of lightning. It seemed to tear away the veil that had hidden us from the women’s sight. They cried out as they saw Mrs. Hartle standing cold and proud and terrible in the night.

“It is I,” said the High Mistress. “I have returned at last.” There was a moment of confusion as exclamations ran through the crowd. “The High Mistress! She has returned!”

“Why do you not bow before me? Is there no loyalty among you? Did it take such a short time for you to forget your true mistress?”

“Welcome, welcome, we have longed for this moment,” gushed one of the women, and I recognized the sycophantic voice of Miss Dalrymple, quick to abandon her former ally and throw herself at Mrs. Hartle’s feet.

“I…We…” gabbled Miss Raglan, as the Dark Sisters made deep bows to her rival. “We thought you were dead!”

The High Mistress laughed wildly as lightning cracked across the sky and rain lashed the earth. “Celia Hartle will never taste death! After our defeat in the crypt, I confess that I was wounded. The elemental powers that were turned against me stripped me of my strength. So I hid, choosing not to show myself in my weakened state. But I have not studied the secret rites all these years for nothing. And now here I am, back to claim my triumph.” Mrs. Hartle moved closer to Miss Raglan, and her voice became a honeyed river of menace. “It will not be you who brings our labors to fulfillment. Oh, I watched you. I saw your lack of faith in me. For loyalty I bring rewards; for betrayal—curses.” She clicked her fingers and Miss Raglan staggered back and whimpered, as though reeling from a savage blow.

Mrs. Hartle turned to Miss Scratton. “You have done better. I am pleasantly surprised. Your reward will be of another sort.” Miss Scratton didn’t move, except to bow her head and lower her eyes.

“But all judgments can wait,” Mrs. Hartle went on. “The night draws deep. At midnight all will be fulfilled. The foolish girls who dared to rise against me are prisoners at my feet. And I bring you another prize—our former master. He is ready to do our bidding.” She kicked Sebastian viciously, then forced him to his knees. The Talisman swung heavily around his neck, like a great burden. “Prepare the girl.”

The cloaked women dragged Helen and Sarah away. Miss Scratton stepped swiftly over to me and made me kneel opposite Sebastian. Now we faced each other, as though we were going to be betrothed in some mystical ceremony. Evie and Sebastian, together again at last, but now only one of us could survive. The rain wept over us. The last minutes of the day were dying. Soon the bell would toll for midnight. Sebastian’s head hung down and he swayed slightly. I couldn’t see his face. It was better like that, I thought, better not to see the end.

My mind was slow and blurred, as though I had been stripped of my own self by the High Mistress’s overpowering will. I was helpless against her. Celia Hartle had won, and I had lost, and there was nothing I could do about it. She pushed the silver dagger into Sebastian’s grasp. Holding his weakened hands in her own, she raised the dagger over me. “When this strikes your heart, the Talisman will be his, and immortality will be ours!” Then she turned to Miss Scratton with her final order. “Sister, make her ready for the end.”

Miss Scratton bent down and tore my shirt open, laying my neck bare for the bite of the knife. As she leaned over me, I thought I heard her whisper, “Your necklace, Evie, give her your necklace….”

I looked up at her, suddenly jerked awake from my lethargy and despair. My necklace…the little locket…it still hung, small and insignificant, around my neck. I stared into Miss Scratton’s eyes. I can’t believe it, Sarah had said. Any of the others, but not Miss Scratton… And as I looked into those cool, pitying eyes, I recognized her at last. A wise woman, a holy sister, a healer…

“Come! Out of the way!” said Mrs. Hartle impatiently. “Let the blow be struck!”

“Your necklace, Evie, your necklace…” Miss Scratton whispered again.

Without stopping to think, I grabbed the little chain and twisted it until it snapped, then flung the locket at Mrs. Hartle.

It soared across the space between us in a wide arc and burst into flames with a dazzling light. Mrs. Hartle screamed, and her will and concentration wavered for a moment. The ropes around our wrists melted away, and Sebastian struggled to his feet.

“My brothers,” he cried. “Ride, my brothers! Ride!”

All at once, the air was alive with the sound of hooves beating the ground. I looked behind me and saw Cal galloping wildly up the slope, leading a band of ghostly riders. Their horses flew over the turf like enchanted shadows, like a dream I’d once had…a long-ago dream…. The wild Gypsy riders were back from the dead to haunt the living, keeping their old vows to be true to their brother Fairfax James. The Dark Sisters began to howl in anger as Sarah and Helen cheered the riders on.

“How dare you!” Mrs. Hartle screeched insanely. “Get back! Get back!”

Sebastian stood tall and unafraid. “Ride, my brothers! Ride to our aid!” His beauty shone through the mask of his pain, and his blue eyes flashed like stars.

This is the moment; you can do it, Evie; you can do anything…. Agnes was calling me, and my mother, and Frankie, telling me to believe in myself, telling me to fight for what I loved.

I flung open my arms and welcomed the rain. It drove down at my command like a flight of stinging arrows and blinded Mrs. Hartle for one precious moment. I lunged forward and knocked the dagger out of her hands, then pulled Sebastian toward me. Snatching the blade from the ground, I slashed the turf at our feet until we were standing in a protected circle, just the two of us. The noise and confusion of the hilltop fell away as though a curtain of water hung between us and the rest of the world.

Time seemed to stop. We were alone.

Sebastian fell to his knees in front of me, exhausted by his efforts. “Forgive me, Evie,” he pleaded. “I can’t explain the madness that overtook me last night. I only know that it has passed now, forever, whatever happens next. When you turned the power of fire against me last night it burned the fear from my soul. I was myself again. I called my brothers—to help you.” He dragged the Talisman from around his neck and pressed it into my hand. “This…this is yours. Protect yourself with it. Forgive me.”

I knelt down next to him.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Sebastian. Nothing.”

He held my hand to his lips for a moment. “All I can do…is say good-bye—before my master comes.” His voice faded to a sigh. “I’m glad—so glad—that you are with me, my girl from the sea.”

Sebastian sank to the ground and closed his eyes. I gently lifted his head and laid it in my lap. As his life in this world ebbed to its final flicker, I felt more alive than I ever had before. This was the moment that I would save Sebastian, and nothing would stop me now.