I’ve never seen a Harvesting ritual, not in the flesh. In mage society it’s kind of the equivalent of murder; a lot of people talk about it, but not many have witnessed one. I don’t know how to perform it, and I don’t want to. Rachel was speaking lines in another language, the sounds harsh and guttural, and as she did the darkness seeping from the altar began to swirl around her. The shadow thing was there too and it was behind her now, leaning over her and Shireen, and for one fleeting moment I wondered whether it hadn’t really been there and this was all some trick of Elsewhere, or whether it had been there all along and it was because of Elsewhere that I was able to see it. The shadows around Rachel began to swirl faster, becoming a vortex, and her voice rose to a chant. I had one fleeting glimpse of her as she stood there, and there was something terrible in her face, desire and fear and horror all mingled together. As Rachel cried out the last words there was a thundering crack and Shireen’s back arched, her body spasming as something flickered from Shireen and into Rachel, too fast to see. And as it did the shadow thing behind Rachel plunged its hands and head down into her back, slipping inside her. Rachel threw back her head and screamed, and everything went black.

When the lights returned the shadows were gone. There was no trace of the seeping darkness or the nameless thing looming over Rachel. The room was empty except for Richard, Rachel, and Shireen. Shireen was lying with her head to one side, and somehow as I looked at her I knew she was gone.

Rachel was lying next to her, looking groggy. She opened her eyes to see Shireen’s body and jerked, scrabbling back on the stone.

“You are my apprentice no longer,” Richard said. He hadn’t moved throughout the ritual and still stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “What is your name?”

Rachel stared at Shireen’s body for a moment longer, then looked away. She came to her feet to face Richard, not letting her eyes rest on the body. “Deleo.” Her voice was shaky. “My name’s Deleo.”

I heard a noise from behind me and turned.

Rachel was standing there. Not the younger Rachel but the present one, the one I’d fought with and against last year, the one I’d met last night in the old brewery and who’d screamed at me to get out. She was looking straight at me and she could see me. She raised her hands and in a flash of pure terror I pulled myself away, trying to copy what Shireen had done, desperately trying to get out of Elsewhere because Rachel had seen me and she was coming—

* * *