Winter was ending, and mud covered the forests and path of Spence. The academy was soggy looking from the melting snow, and water dripped off of the roof at corners and above doorways incessantly. A smile formed on a young man's lips as he saw the school. Ah, yes, home, sweet home. But he'd not had a home, not since he'd been six. His smile twisted at the irony. A young man who's never had a home considering a young ladies' boarding school in nostalgia. He'd been trained continuously, raised on high standards, speaking English as a gentleman, and yet…

Kartik found himself with the Gypsies again, this time from choice, not assignment. And They won't ever assign me anywhere or tell me to do anything ever again, he thought. He carried his small pack, even smaller since the considerable weight of the cricket bat had left it, and claimed his little plot to camp just outside of the main campfire's light. Many of the Gypsies, minus the questionably stable Mother Elena, had had trouble adjusting to Kartik, and the will to adjust had evaporated once they'd seen him kiss the 'Magic Girl'.

Gemma. Kartik sighed her name out, his heart starting to thump and his body starting to ache at remembering that first kiss he'd shared with her. He had tried to protect her from the Gypsies by calling her his own, and he'd been so sure that it had been just for protecting his subject. Maybe I got a little too caught up in the suddenness of it all. After all, me kissing her back had nothing to do with attraction to her shining green eyes, or her flaming hair. And my breath certainly wasn't caught by how sweet she tasted, by how sweet she smelled or how soft her lips were. My breath wasn't caught so that all I could do was croak an answer back to the Gypsies when they commented. I couldn't have enjoyed it, I was part of the Rakshana, and I couldn't- Kartik ruffled his hair as he dropped his pack, thinking back on this. But now, oh how I wish I could relive the moment Ms. Gemma Doyle kissed me, and- He cut himself off. He was a fool, to be thinking of her, feeling for her, night and day. And indeed, it had been night and day, as Kartik had dreamed of her in a most inappropriate way.

He closed his eyes, standing next to his pack, remembering her soft skin, her urging kisses. Oh, how I long for her… Quit it! You sound like a lovesick fool. He slapped himself, willing the thoughts away. It was just being back at Spence, he decided, that was drawing him back to these thoughts. He had thought he had cleared them up awhile ago, when he had been in London. After she had left him. Apparently I haven't rid myself of these haunting wishes yet. And now, here I am, chasing after her like a hopeless, aimless child. I am sure she'll love me all the more now. Kartik stopped. Love. Kartik hadn't thought of it that way. He hadn't ever even tried to comprehend that word. It was a futile attempt to try. Don't try then. He shoved any thoughts of Ms. Doyle out of his head. He took his time setting up his tent, forcing himself to concentrate on any and every detail. Anything and everything other than her.

To keep his mind occupied after he'd finished setting up the tent, he tried to reorganize all of his few belongings into the exact places they had been in last year. This was harder than he had expected. Once he had set up everything except his little nest of pine needles that had fallen, he looked into one corner of his tent and realized there was something missing. It immediately came to him. My- I mean Ms. Doyle's cricket bat. That was all that was needed to take him back to Christmas morning. He had thought he had left her that morning, but it was truly she who had left him. Whatever pain he'd hoped to inflict on her that morning, if she even did feel anything for him, which he prayed, she had hurt him back a thousand times worse. Why must this pain be so wounding? The Rakshana taught me how to dress bodily wounds, but I would rather be slashed all over than be forced to face this. He thought this as he set his bed of foliage, and when he'd finished he realized that this was the spot where he'd dreamed of Ms. Doyle for the first time. Fool! Stop thinking about her! Kartik sat on the ground and rocked back and forth, covering his face and moaning for a clear mind.

"Do I hear someone in need of a reading?" Mother Elena's voice crackled through the tent walls. A wrinkled, elderly face wearing a green scarf, different from the usual red, on top, with large gold hoop earrings stuck itself through the break in the materials. Various necklaces, several supposedly holding protection, dangled from the woman's small neck.

"Mother Elena, I just-"

"No, child, I can see in your aura a great conflict is in you. My Carolina asked me to repay you from when you brought Mary here. She is such a pretty girl. Though, she has such dark conflict in her. You two are alike, in that view. Now come, let me see what troubles your young soul." He couldn't take the thought of another knowing how he felt for Ms. Doyle. For Gemma. His heart was barely able to take it as it was. The aching of it made his eyes tear, and he forced himself to nod towards her.

Mother Elena wobbled in, bent from age and the layered clothing and such that caused her to look hunchbacked. Gold disks tied to a string were draped around her like a shawl, and Kartik noticed little writing on each of those disks.

"Let's sit now, and give me your hand." She came and sat next to him, though how her legs were set, Kartik couldn't tell under the folds of clothing. He barely had touched her outstretched hand when Mother Elena screamed. "Such pain!" she moaned. "Such regret of the past, and hopelessness for the future! My child, how came such woes? Place your hand on the ground, and I will try to see more." Kartik laid his right hand on the ground, palm up, and waited. After a moment, he looked up at Mother Elena expectantly, just waiting for her to vocalize all of his passions. What he found was a fearful face.

"Mother-"

"Shush. Shush. All is well. It was so much to bear, though, without a build-up. Just a sudden burst. This all has to do with one subject then." She mused to herself, rubbing the hand that had touched him against her chin. Yeah, Kartik thought, and that one subject is me. The Rakshana may be coming after me, and I've had to face betraying them, my brotherhood. The girl I think I may love has snubbed me and is trying to take me out of her life, and I still feel bound to her because of Amar.

"Your tormented soul!" Mother Elena fell back, as if his thoughts were waves pounding against her. Kartik sighed, about to tell her that he had no more money to give her, and to tell her that her acting efforts were better used elsewhere. She pulled herself up, sucked in a breath, then reached and grasped his hand firmly. Her weather-beaten hand on his began to pale as she squeezed his tighter. It all came out in a rush. "Your family, oh, your family. You have failed them before, only once before, but now; you have given them up for love. Yes, for this family wasn't a true one." Rakshana, Kartk thought. "Your love has caused your life to be ruin. You have given it all up for love." Kartik remembered when he had finalized his betrayal of the Rakshana, when he had showed Gemma the way out and tried to distract them from her. A fool in love. "And this girl you feel bound to, so strong is the connection. She-" Mother Elena paused, with a face as if she was contemplating the words. "She is bound back to you, through," another pause, but Mother Elena seemed to be trying to understand what she was seeing this time. "She has been hurt as much as you, and with her loss was your loss." Kartik's face became contorted with held back pain. My dear brother. He was all of my family. How good it would be if he were here now, to help me with women, among other things. But if he hadn't died, then Mrs. Doyle wouldn't have died, and I might have never been assigned to Gemma. If I could have protected them both, though, maybe I could have met Gemma through her mother. But 'could have's never happen. "There is also a bond formed, formed by her, to you." Mother Elena did one of her elderly, good-natured smiles. "She loves you." It took a second for him to grasp the words, but then Kartik's heart was a thumping mass of pain. She loves me. She loves me after all that she's said and we've been through together. He warmed as he thought the word, together. An involuntary smile grew on his face. His head was spinning from fast thoughts flitting through his head. Maybe if he gave it one more chance, he could go to Gemma and then- No. I can't take the pain of hearing her deny me again. But if she loves me…

"This isn't the infatuation I've usually seen, mind you. This is the stuff that is between two people who marry for love, not money or social worries. To have found your soul-mate at such a young age is extraordinary. It's actually sort of strange, dearie. Let me see more. Her eyes are one of the things you miss about her face." I miss everything about her face. Everything about her. Mother Elena laughed. "You sound lovesick, however much you truly are in love." Kartik blushed, wondering if she really could read him. "Tsk, tsk. Shouldn't doubt me. I would keep an open mind. I see your friend has. She has opened herself greatly, in fact." Mother Elena's old face took on a worried expression, creating more wrinkles. "It's almost like she's opened herself to the other world-" A terrified expression covered Mother Elena. The giddiness Kartik was experiencing began to fade as he watched her begin to whimper, "Those eyes. Those green eyes. She's Mary! She's taken my Carolina! No, she's not Mary. Who…? My goodness. She will bring her and get me! Keep her away! Wait, she is trying to do good still. What fool is this? She must stop!" Mother Elena began to fling her hands around. "She doesn't realize what she's doing! Someone must go to the other side before it's too late!" Kartik realized that she was talking about Gemma in the realms.

"Tell me, Mother! What is it? What do you see?" Anxiety was filling him. I must try and save her before anything happens! Oh, Gemma, what are you doing?

"Kartik." It came out crisp and clear, a completely different voice from Mother Elena's soft rasping and grandmotherly tone. "You must go to the realms. To save us from…Circe." The last part was whispered out.

"Mother Elena," Kartik said steadily, trying to get her to hear him, "What must I do to go to the realms?"