Eleanor sat next to Thea on the bed. Thea stared out the window. Eleanor followed her gaze, but there were only the trees, and the gray beyond them.

“It’s like the gray world,” Eleanor said. “Last Halloween, we went through Mr. January’s door and we ended up in a world like that—all gray mist and gray trees.”

“It’s an Empty world,” Thea said. Eleanor frowned at her, puzzled. “Mother and Father told us about them. You can Empty a world just like you Empty a person. Take everything out—but leave just a little bit. Enough that the world doesn’t collapse, because then it would just be destroyed. But if it’s that Empty, you can turn it into anything you want.”

Like a place to hide twelve magical keys while you hunt for the thirteenth, Eleanor thought. Or a place to hide yourself. That was where the People Who Look Away had been lurking and collecting their keys, so they could get back to the Pallid Kingdom. A gray world—one that they had drained. Eleanor shuddered.

“That’s what they’re going to do to your world,” Thea said. “I mean, what we’re going to do. We did all those horrible things. To you. To the kids before you.”

“You haven’t yet,” Eleanor said, stroking her hair. “And you don’t have to. We don’t get to choose what happens to us, Thea, but we all get to choose who we become. Now let’s get out of here. The next world will be a better one, I promise.”

Thea only curled tighter in on herself. “I miss my brother and sister,” she whispered. “Even if they . . .”

“I understand,” Eleanor said. “I spent a long time thinking that my mom had tried to hurt me. Or at least didn’t try to save me. It’s not quite the same thing, but I remember how it felt. I was so, so angry. And I still loved her so much.”

“I wish I didn’t. I wish I just hated them. It would feel better than this,” Thea said. Her chin trembled. “I thought they loved me.”

Eleanor put out her hand. Thea drew in a deep, shuddering breath and took Eleanor’s hand. In the moment that her fingers touched Eleanor’s, the bright thread connecting them glowed stronger, pulsing almost like a heartbeat—and Eleanor had the sudden image of that bright thread going dim.

If she failed, if she lost Thea to her fate, it would break her heart. Even thinking about it hurt.

Maybe The Glass-Heart Girl was right. It was easier not to feel, not to fear.

Maybe it was easier to be empty.

Seventeen

When Eleanor got downstairs with Thea in tow, the others were already in the Great Room with Bartimaeus, gathering up their things to leave.