Actually, she was irritated. And then, very faintly, alarmed. The Emptying was wearing off already! If it wore off too much, the Empty at the door might sense them and come to investigate why there were suddenly extra people down below.

“They can make things out of emotions and stuff,” Eleanor said. “It’s just borrowing. She can put them back. Right?”

“If I make a physical object, I can unmake it and return what I took,” Melia confirmed.

“Start with me,” the hedgewitch said. “I’m curious about the process.”

Melia nodded and drifted down the aisle to the hedgewitch’s cell. She reached out and put her fingertips to the hedgewitch’s temples, and the hedgewitch let out a little sigh.

Then Melia dropped her hands and opened her palm. In her left hand rested a long silver key. “Curiosity makes an excellent key,” Melia said. The hedgewitch’s eyes looked a tad dull, and she stared at Melia with a bored expression.

Melia opened the door. The hedgewitch stepped out. She looked like she wanted to ask a question but couldn’t quite think of it. “Who is next?” Melia asked.

“Can’t you just use that key for all of us?” Otto asked, equal parts wary and interested. The hedgewitch gave a gasp, and Otto frowned at her. “What’s wrong? Does it still hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” the hedgewitch answered.

“What does it feel like?” he asked, but she just stared at him.

“It’s very hard to describe,” Eleanor said.

“But how—” Otto started.

“We’re running out of time,” Ash said, cutting him off.

“Then I guess you’d better take my curiosity next,” Otto said.

Melia walked over to him, but when she set her fingers to his temples she shook her head. “Your curiosity is . . . stuck. I will take this.” She drew her hands away, the key forming in the air as she did. It was bubblegum pink and had a bubble wand on the end.

“What did you take for that?” Otto asked, peering at it.

“I want to get home to see my sisters,” Melia said.

“Interesting. You’re right, I don’t anymore. Objectively speaking, they’re pretty annoying,” Otto said. Eleanor felt a tiny wiggle of amusement somewhere deep within her.

Something scraped behind her. She turned, but there was nothing—only the stone walls and the stairs back up. She frowned. What had that sound been?

A faint howl sounded, as if coming from very far away.

She shuddered. The hounds.

There was something wrong in the air. Like running your fingers over cloth and finding a snagged thread. She thought of Wander, stitching up the air to mend the tears she’d made by traveling the Wending. Had Eleanor left a tear behind as well?