The landscape underneath Effie was a blur of cloud and mist, and green streaks of unidentifiable countryside. Clothilde hadn’t been joking when she’d said she was going to fly as fast as she could. She seemed to have gone higher, too. Up here the air came in icy bursts, and every so often the carpet lurched up, down, left or right as it got caught in currents.

By the time they landed, Effie felt cold and sick.

And her headache hadn’t improved much either. She was running very low on lifeforce; she suspected even more so since she’d attacked Dr. Wiseacre. She was going to have to drink some of the emergency deepwater from the vial around her neck. Of course once it was gone there would be nothing standing between her and the Yearning—the horrible illness you get if you run too low on magical lifeforce. As soon as they got off the magic carpet she had the tiniest sip.

“What is that?” asked Clothilde as they set off down the driveway to Truelove House.

“It’s deepwater,” said Effie.

“What does it do?”

“Tops up my lifeforce. I’m a bit low. I should probably be getting back soon.”

Effie knew that ideally she should have gone straight to the portal on the Keepers’ Plains and gone back to the Realworld. She’d been here too long already. But she had to tell Clothilde, Rollo and Cosmo about what had happened in Frog Hole. Effie felt sick inside at the thought of her diagnosis as a galloglass. But it was wrong; of course it was. And as for Dr. Wiseacre and her horrible henchmen? Effie knew she shouldn’t have pulled her sword on them, but she thought they were hurting Clothilde. What was Effie supposed to have done?

Clothilde sighed. She seemed actually annoyed with Effie for the first time ever. It was normal for Rollo to be annoyed—he was regularly a bit irritated with everyone. But Clothilde had always been so kind to Effie. What had she meant about them being in trouble with the council? And what was that anyway?

Clothilde looked like she was about to say something, but then bit her lip.

“What is it?” asked Effie.

Clothilde sighed again. “Nothing,” she said.

“Why are you so upset?” asked Effie. “Is it because of the council?”

“I just don’t understand how you cannot have realized that . . .” Clothilde took a deep breath and shook her head. “It’s not for me to tell you. I’d just have thought you’d have worked it out yourself by now. Maybe what they say about the island is right after all.” She looked away from Effie. “I don’t know. It can’t be. But . . .”

For the second time that day, Effie felt like crying. If even Clothilde was saying things like that then maybe they were all correct. Maybe all islanders were horrible, including Effie. Maybe . . .