The Brothers file out, taking Hope with them. Tess emerges from the library, her arm wrapped around a sobbing Lucy. When she sees me, her face crumples, and she lets go of Lucy to throw her arms around my waist.

“They took Hope!” she sobs.

Maura’s creamy complexion looks sickly. “Thank the Lord it wasn’t you.”

“It should be me,” Tess whimpers, burying her face in my shoulder. “Hope doesn’t know anything about anything! She just froze when they questioned her. Oh, Cate, it was awful!”

“I know,” I murmur. I pat her shoulder and look to Maura, but she’s already turned away, hips swaying as she makes her way down the hall toward Alice.

Behind her, Sister Cora is leaning heavily against the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. Now she slumps to the floor in a dead faint.

“Carry her into the parlor, and I’ll see to her there,” Sister Sophia instructs. “She shouldn’t be doing magic, as ill as she is.”

“What did she do?” I hear Maura ask, glancing down at our fallen headmistress scornfully. “She certainly didn’t help Hope.”

“Miss Ashby can’t reveal what she can’t remember,” Sister Inez says simply. She claps her hands twice, and everyone crowds into the front hall. “Girls, I do not mean to alarm you, but perhaps this is the time for alarm. This is the first raid the Brothers have conducted here, but it will not be the last. We must be vigilant. If you possess any banned books, please see to it that they are concealed by magic whenever they are not in use. The Sisterhood is obviously no longer above suspicion.”

• • •

The next morning, I’m heading down to the library with an armful of anatomy books filled with diagrams of the human body. Despite our protestations that our healing is magic, Sister Sophia is determined that we learn the science, too. Our current task is memorizing the two hundred–odd bones of the human body. And while I’m a bit preoccupied right now with the Brothers rounding up supposed oracles and Finn applying for a job that could get him killed, I’m not willing to look a dunce in front of the other girls.

I’m dawdling down the stairs to the first floor when I pass Tess going up. I smile at her, but she seems lost in thought. Nothing unusual in that. But then her slipper catches in the hem of her peach brocade dress, and she stumbles, books spilling out of her arms. She catches herself on her hands and knees just before her face mashes into the wooden railing.

“Are you all right?” I gasp. She’s always been apt to run into things while her mind’s preoccupied, but she doesn’t normally fall up stairs.

She gazes up at me—no, through me, her gray eyes unfocused.

“Tess?” I hold out a hand to help her up, but she doesn’t move to take it.

“I’m fine.” She picks herself up.

She doesn’t look fine. She’s gone pale; her smile is forced, and she’s not looking me in the eye.

I lean down and pick up her books—two thick, dog-eared tomes of the history of witchcraft. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“I said I’m fine, didn’t I? Have you gone deaf?” She claps a hand over her mouth.

I bite my lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to badger you.”

“It’s not you.” The way she’s looking at me now, though, it’s as if she’s never seen me before, as if she’s studying me. Weighing me.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says finally. Evidently I’ve passed muster. “Can we go to your room?”

“Of course.” My stomach twists as I lead her upstairs. What has her sounding so dire?

Sunlight billows into my bedroom through the gap in Rilla’s curtains, slanting across the colorful hooked rugs, glinting in the mirror over our dressing table. I usher Tess inside and shut the door.

“Rilla’s at botany for another hour, so we shouldn’t be interrupted.” I feel a tiny stab of jealousy, wishing I had time in my schedule for botany. My roommate barely knows the difference between tulips and roses, or peonies and ranunculus.

Tess sits at the foot of my bed, knees pressed to her chest. I kick off my slippers and sit at the other end, facing her, my long legs stretched out between us. I want to ply her with questions, but I bite my tongue. I know from experience that Tess will speak when she’s ready and not a moment before.

“There’s no easy way to say it. Will you promise to listen, and not interrupt?”

I twist Mother’s ring on my finger. “I promise.”

Tess props her pointy chin on her knees and gazes at me, her face scrunched up just like Father’s. “I’ve been having visions. I wasn’t sure at first. It started—well, I think it started some time ago, but I didn’t realize what it was. When it happens, I feel light-headed, and sometimes I lose sight of where I am. I’ve got a half dozen bruises from knocking into things. For a while, I thought I was hallucinating, that it was a fever, or some kind of fit. But then the things I saw started coming true. The bonfire, with the Brothers burning piles of books. The Dolamores moving away after Gabrielle was arrested. Little Adam Collier falling through the ice on their pond. Our barn cat having kittens—three white as snow, one black. How could I see those things before they happened? How could I know?”

My baby sister’s voice is calm as she explains how she has logically deduced that she is a seer.

“Those are just a few examples. I’ve had a dozen visions, and so far seven have come to pass, that I can tell.” Tess’s gray eyes are intent on mine. “It didn’t happen very often at first, but now—I’ve had two just this week. I think—Cate, I think I’m the new oracle.”

I struggle to keep the panic off my face. I mustn’t frighten her.

“Have you told anyone else?” I whisper.

Tess shakes her head. Her hair is down today, in two long blond braids. “No. I don’t want—” She gulps, and her voice quavers just a little. “I don’t want people to think I’m mad.”

My composure shatters. I dive across the bed, wrapping her in a fierce hug. Her skin smells like vanilla and spices. “No one would think that. You’re the sanest person I know. Look how calm you are. I’d be hiding under the bed if it were me.”

Tess burrows her face in my shoulder, and I rub her back in circles, the way I used to when she woke sobbing from nightmares.

“Brenna went mad,” she mumbles against my neck.

I pull back and look down into her worried little face. “You are not Brenna Elliott.”

“She’s the only other person I know who has visions.”

Her worry breaks my heart. It was the first thing I feared, too. How long has she been fretting about it? It’s too heavy a burden for her to manage on her own. “Brenna wasn’t so bad before she went to Harwood. That won’t happen to you.”

“If the Brothers knew—if anyone else found out—”

“They won’t.” My voice is sharp. “You’re a witch, Tess, and a powerful one. You can do mind-magic. If someone suspects, you can protect yourself.”

Even Mother would approve of that.

“The Brothers are killing all those girls because they’re looking for me,” Tess whispers. “They took Hope away yesterday, and—and Maura wants to kill Brenna, and it’s all my fault.”