“Yes. I think so,” said Neptune. “Thank you for coming for me. I’m Neptune, by the way.”

Raven nodded. “I’m Raven. We’ll look after each other from now on. Let’s go.”

In a strange dimension both near and far away, Effie Truelove was turning somersaults through the air. Her body felt entirely weightless. Downdowndown she went, and then flip, and then upupup. It was like a sort of cosmic ballet. All that was Effie—her headstrong nature, her desire for truth, her desire to be special, her loyalty to her friends, her love of her family, her great ability at tennis, the strength and coordination that would make her a great dancer in the physical world if she ever tried, her favorite breakfasts, the one time she rode a horse—all this swirled out of her and into the silent starry night in which she’d found herself. The less she became, the more she was. The more of herself she gave, the more power she had. It was paradoxical, and amazing. She seemed to be exchanging her soul for the entire universe.

Just as the last drop of Effie was about to be squeezed out, the whole process seemed to begin to rewind. Slowly . . . slowly . . . then fasterfasterfaster. She was rejoining herself, being somehow put back together. She didn’t want to go back, and yet somehow she did. There were still things she had to accomplish—no, that was the wrong word—but there was a need for Effie to stay Effie. As long as she remembered that she didn’t need anything to prop herself up. And that this was what was waiting for her. Some time in the future, after she had become a wizard and lived for hundreds of years in the Otherworld, growing wiser and wiser: this. Living in bliss forever and ever.

When she opened her eyes, the woman in rags had gone, and Effie was standing outside Wanda’s once more, wearing her cape and her Sword of Light necklace. Her Ring of the True Hero was on her finger. She bent her knees slightly and then experimentally jumped in the air, to see if . . . Yes, it was different. She could jump higher. She had a slightly altered relationship with gravity. She could . . . Effie pirouetted once, twice. It felt good. Different. She jumped in the air and spun. She ran and took a leap, which sent her flying through the air. She ran up the side of a wall and then somersaulted before landing again in front of Wanda’s. Anyone watching would have thought that she was practicing to play the lead in the latest flying-martial-arts film or some magical-realist street-dance production. But no one was watching. Everyone was looking at the sky.

“I’ve always wanted to ride a broomstick,” said Neptune. “I had a feeling it was my destiny.”

“Well, hold tight,” said Raven. “It doesn’t look very safe up there.”