I have to be honest. I don't plan my fics in the least. I just start out writing and a bunch of ideas pop into my head, and I just connect the dots as I go. So, this chapter was extremely difficult because, while I knew what was going on with Tom and Pippa, I wasn't sure how to explain it or how to make Gemma discover the truth about the situation. Especially to explain both Tom and Pippa in one chapter? A bit difficult, considering Tom's revelation introduces a fairly major plot point, and it has absolutely nothing to do with Pippa. So… difficult much? I ended up dividing the chapter into two separate scenes, which I've done before, so no biggie… but I kind of think I should have split this into two chapters. Oh well, I did my best, and hopefully you guys love it. I haven't mis-stepped so far, hopefully I can continue that way.

Oh, and since I'm so sneaky and a total review-whore, I'm going to play my old games. When I get fifteen reviews – next chapter goes up. This one is pretty long, too, so I think I deserve fifteen for it. Cry all you want, I will not be swayed. I know you guys can do it – I get WAYYYY more than fifteen hits, so I don't think I'm asking too much. And, for those lazy minxes who are reaping the benefits of others' reviews without leaving any of their own: I hope you realize you will have a little black check next to your heart for the rest of your life. No amount of reading to the blind and feeding the lepers will save you from it. Consider yourselves warned. :-)

I take Felicity out to the back garden under the guise of showing her Grandmama's prized rosebushes. There are no servants back at the little portico, and a small stone gazebo shields us from prying eyes. Felicity, though, is not as keen to visit the Realms as I thought she would be.

"Alright, let's go," I sigh, holding out my hand to her.

"Go where?" Felicity quirks a brow, not understanding.

"To the Realms," I explain impatiently. "We've got to be quick, and I have a feeling it won't be a pleasant visit, but I know you'll never let me –"

"We don't have to go," Felicity says quickly, trying to look unconcerned as she smoothes her skirts. Since I've known her, I've never seen Felicity look so cowed. There's no mistaking the flicker of fear in her eyes as she meets mine defiantly, daring me to call her out for it.

"But, Fee –"

"I mean, what's the use, Gemma? The Garden is completely ruined, and the whole place has been overrun with… with monsters."

She looks away as she says this, and the fear in her eyes is replaced by something that I am even more helpless to combat – sorrow. She grieves the loss of Pippa, but she cannot move on until Pippa has well and truly been put to rest. But this Pippa? She is likely too far gone for any sort of redemption, and Felicity knows it. As long as Felicity does not have to face her, she can ignore the terrible truth: Pippa is a lost cause.

"Fee… I think that's why we must go." I regard her cautiously, watching the play of emotions behind her gray eyes. After a moment's hesitation, she looks up, resolute.

"Very well then." She sighs, and I am relieved to see that playful, fearless Felicity is back. "But only because you're so darling," she coos, pinching my cheek. I swat her hand away and rub irritably where there is, no doubt, a red mark.

"Alright. Give me your hand."

I take a breath, and the door of light appears before us.

I'm not quite ready to go in, though. I wouldn't admit it to Felicity, but I am afraid of what I will find on the other side. What if the Garden has been scorched to the ground the creatures of the Winterlands run rampant? What if the Poppy Warriors have escaped their temple of bones and set up camp in the only place I truly know. What if all that is good and pure about the Realms has been poisoned by Circe and her followers? And the worst scenario imaginable: what if Circe waits for my return so that she may bind me into a watery grave?

Felicity is at my shoulder, breathing on my neck. "What are we waiting for?"

"Nothing," I answer quickly, startling into motion. I reach out, and open the door.

-

All of my worries melt away as we step into the Garden again. I forget my engagement, Kartik's abandonment, Tom's oddness, even Pippa. Nothing can be wrong in such a beautiful place.

The Garden is as I remember it at its best. The tall, soft grass sways sweetly in a gentle breeze. Fuzzy seed heads, bright wildflowers, and blossoming fruit trees dot the landscape with color and texture. The same old stream – once rancid and weak – now flows strong and clear again, its burbling rush like the sweetest of songs. Tiny, jewel-colored birds flutter about, mingling with the most beautiful of butterflies whilst white blossoms rain from the trees, drifting to the ground in lazy spirals. The sky is a rich azure, dotted with huge, lazy clouds. I touch a rose blossom in wonder, and gasp in delight as it melts from its stem and reforms into a perfectly cut, egg-sized ruby. Curiously, I touch it to my tongue; it melts like spun sugar and tastes of strawberries.

"It's back!" I declare, awe-struck. "Something is finally right about this whole mess," I sigh, turning to Felicity with a satisfied smile. But Felicity's eyes are hard as she surveys the landscape, skeptical.

"Gemma… don't forget what your mother told us – looks can be deceiving." It's so strange for Felicity to be the careful, guarded one, and for me to be so careless that I can't focus on what she said. After a stunned second, I collect myself, straightening my spine, and dropping the ruby. My reaction has Felicity somewhat irritated. "It can't have all just gone back to normal without any work," she snaps waspishly. "You haven't done anything – as far as you know, Circe's still running around and this is just a little trick of hers to lull you into a false sense of security! Do you honestly think you could just look away for a bit and things would just sort themselves out?"

Felicity's chastisement has me thinking logically again. It seems her last visit to the Realms affected her more than I thought possible. I know that, deep in her heart, she still believes me at fault for Pippa's death. Perhaps she fears the same will happen to her if I'm not careful. I silently vow to keep Felicity safe, no matter what the cost. We've lost Pippa, then Ann, and I couldn't bear to lose the last of my only true friends… though Ann's loss was nothing we could help.

As if reading my mind, Felicity says softly, "Even after a year, it still seems strange – just the two of us. I wonder what's become of Ann."

I sigh, sadness permeating the bubble of lightness around my heart. Perhaps the Garden was a deception – else why would I have such difficultly feeling anything but peaceful happiness within it? "She's likely become governess to those horrible cousins of hers."

We are silent a moment, reflecting, when a sheepish voice interrupts our thoughts. "Hello, Gemma, Fee. I haven't seen you for quite a time."

We whirl around in tandem, startled, to face Pippa. She is beautiful again, just as the Garden's been restored to its former glory. I'd almost forgotten how lovely Pippa was, and the sudden sight of her original beauty is more startling than her sudden appearance.

"Pippa," Felicity croaks. Any reservations towards the deceptive nature of the Realms are long forgotten as she launches herself on Pippa, nearly knocking her over as she embraces her. I am less inclined to be so frivolous – my latest run-ins with Pippa have been confusing, nearly fatal, and altogether unpleasant.

"You're back!" Felicity cries. "I've missed you so!" Pippa smiles softly, almost sadly, as she strokes Felicity's back soothingly.

"Yes, but not for long, I'm afraid," she says softly, eyes downcast.

Felicity draws back, wiping a stream of tears away with the back of her hand. "What do you mean?"

I cut in, before Pippa can answer, "How do we know we can trust you?"

Pippa winces at the cold, impassiveness of my tone. Her violet eyes meet mine hesitantly. "I have you to thank for my return, Gemma."

"Me? What have I done?"

"Remember when I touched you and… well, you didn't take too well to it?"

I nod, rubbing my hands together at the memory of the bone-biting cold.

"I really don't know what it was, but I have a theory. I think I… stole some of your essence – your humanity. Only you could save me, because of who you are. The power of your vitality defeated the creature that I had been bound to – a lowly dark spirit was no match for the High Priestess. You returned me to how I was before things went all wrong."

"You could be lying," I force myself to say. I want so badly to believe that Pippa is our dear, old Pippa again, but to assume such a thing could be my undoing. "Can you prove it?"

Pippa hesitates, thinking. Her eyes light as she thinks of an answer. "Touch me. If I am still bound to the dark, I will take your light… you'll be cold again."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Felicity interjects fearfully, glancing between us. If Pippa completely drains me, there will be no way for Felicity to return. But I don't think there is any other way to prove Pippa right. I convince myself that I will be able to fight her off if she is lying.

After a moment's hesitation, I extend my hand.

"Gemma!" Felicity cries.

Pippa reaches out and takes my hand in hers. I meet her eyes, stunned.

Nothing happens. I feel only her skin on mine, her hand warm and soft – human flesh.

I drop my show of stoicism as tears well up in my eyes, and run down my cheeks. "Oh, Pippa!" I cry, throwing my arms around her. She laughs giddily, embracing me back. Felicity, overcome, throws herself on us as well, kissing us both.

When we finally calm down, we lay in the tall grass, our heads touching, and watch the clouds float by, saying nothing. Pippa grows serious, breaking our comfortable silence. "I shan't overstay my welcome this time," she says softly, her violet eyes sad as she gauges my reaction.

"No?" I ask softly. It is a double-edged sword, this confession. The thought of Pippa's being gone forever is a sword through my heart, a reminder of my mother's death, and subsequent passing. But the knowledge that she will not allow herself to become a corrupted spirit of the Winterlands again is a relief beyond words. I don't know whether to smile or cry again. "When will you go?" I ask, instead.

"When my business here is finished," she answers calmly.

"What business?" Felicity demands. "Why must you leave? Gemma can come by whenever you need restoring."

Pippa shakes her head slowly, picking her words. Death has made her calmer, more perceptive than she was in life. She has been given a perspective on life that the living can never know. "It would kill her. No need for two deaths among us."

"What is keeping you here?" I ask. I don't want Felicity to turn against me again – as she did when Pippa was first lost to us. I can't do this alone, and knowing that Pippa has been returned to us, only to leave forever, has only made this ten times more difficult.

"You are. I want to help you defeat Circe. She does not know that I've been unbound – she thinks my looks to be the effects of her glamour. I want to be your spy."

"Pippa!" Felicity gasps. "What if she finds out?"

Pippa shrugs. "What can she do to me? I'm already dead – the worst she can do is force me to pass before I've seen you defeat her. And I know you will, Gemma."

I sigh, my heart swelling with hope. The struggles of the future have suddenly become less bleak. I've gained more than I thought I would – where previously I thought I would be forced to destroy Pippa in order to save the Realms, now I've been given an unexpected ally. My good fortune puts me in a loving mood, and I feel closer to them than I did before. Pippa's turn of luck seems to have restored Felicity's good opinion of me.

I draw the folded parchment from my bodice and hand it to Felicity. "The note wasn't from Tom. It was from Kartik," I say. "He left."

Fee snatches the note. "The Indian boy – the one who left the Rakshana?"

"Yes." I sigh.

"The one who saw me in my chemise?" Pippa asks, giggling at the distant memory. Apparently her newfound sagacity does not extend to men. I laugh with her, delighted that some of her girlish liveliness still remains. At the same time, the memory is a painful twinge in my chest. I have never been the one Kartik wanted, the one he would chase after, the one he longed for. I was just convenient, close, accessible. I was settled for.

Fee hands the letter back to me. "What a cad. Whatever did he leave for?"

"Because of Simon," I sigh. "When I told him we were engaged, he just left."

Pippa sits bolt upright, eyes wide. "You're engaged to Simon Middleton!"

"Oh, yes," I say, stifling a giggle. "About that. You didn't happen to pay a heavily armed visit to Simon, did you?"

Fee sits up as well, her attention caught. The two of them gaze down at me, awestruck. I smile benevolently, enjoying the attention for a moment. "That's what Simon says," I tell Fee, looking pointedly at Pippa.

Pippa sighs. "Yes, I did – but it amounted to nothing. I can only cross between realms with the aid of spirit – and I knew that, thanks to you, the spirit was fading fast – so I tried to make one last crossover while I could. Circe told me that Simon had become a member of the Rakshana and was threatening you – so I decided to take matters into my own hands."

"What did you do?" I gasped, torn between amusement and disbelief.

"The dark spirit was incredibly weak by then – he was almost back to his original form. I was only strong enough to take the maid's body, grab a few knives, and tell Simon who I was before I lost control. It was only two minutes – and then I was back here."

"What do you mean 'his original form?'" I asked, intrigued. Was it possible that all the lost souls of the Winterlands could be restored as Pippa had been?

"Why – my Prince. He was a creature of the Realms – of my creation. When I turned, so did he. Circe saw it as oddly fitting that I should be bound to him."

"Is he still around?" Fee asks, looking across the gardens.

"Yes – but he's hiding. If Circe finds him, she'll know we've been unbound."

I sat up with them and shook my head fiercely, trying to file the confused mess of new information into some semblance of order. "I can't believe this. I can't believe we've got you back."

Pippa smiled softly and planted a small kiss on my cheek. "This time I won't fail you, Gemma."

- - - - -

Felicity leaves just as Tom returns home. He goes straight to the study, as per usual, locking the door behind him. I pace past the door several times, listening at the keyhole and peering through the space under the door. At one point, Emily walks by, a stack of linens in her arms, glancing at me curiously.

"There it is!" I declare triumphantly, pretending to pick up a lost earbob. I hear a sudden shuffling of papers from inside the study after my loud declaration. Then, the unmistakable sound of a drawer being opened, shut, and locked securely. Within seconds, Tom is at the door, staring haughtily down at my crouched figure.

"Um… lost my earbob," I stammer, surprised by the fury in Simon's eyes.

"Mayhap, if you weren't crouching at doors, you'd keep better track of your things!" He brushes past me angrily, and marches for the parlor.

-

Dinner is uncomfortable. Tom refuses to speak, fuming silently as he mashes his food beneath his fork. Grandmama has finally found a bright outlook on my engagement – choosing to ignore the circumstances of the proposal, and instead focus on wedding plans. Father is happy enough to humor Grandmama, since he is already quite pleased with Simon's affection for me. It doesn't hurt that he gets on rather well with Lord and Lady Denby.

"To think – she'll be a viscountess! Lady Denby… Mrs. Gemma Middleton… wonderful!"

I can barely hide my relief when dinner ends. Tom and Father remain in the dining room, using the table to play cards. I excuse myself quickly. It is the first night in a week that Tom hasn't gone immediately to the study and locked himself in there for the remainder of the night. I am bound and determined to figure out what exactly he is doing in there.

As soon as I reach the study, I shut myself in and lock the door securely. I won't have Tom bustling in and forcing me out before I've discovered the method behind his madness. I go immediately to Tom's desk – he is always working with papers, I know that much. I hope that he isn't involved with anything illegal, or worse yet, the Rakshana. All the desk drawers open easily, save for one. The bottom drawer is locked, and I don't know where the key is. Fortunately, Kartik – his name makes my chest twinge painfully, but I ignore it – taught me to pick a lock.

I remove a pin from my hair and wiggle it experimentally in the lock. Nothing happens. The desk is fine quality, but being only a desk – the lock can't be too troublesome. Anything of real value would be kept in a safe – not a desk. I jam the hairpin in as far as it will go, tilt it up, and give a sharp wrench. Like magic, the lock springs free.

The drawer is filled with opened envelopes. The top envelope came from and address in Surrey. The address seems vaguely familiar, though I'm not sure why. Without any hesitation, I take the envelope and pull out the letter.

Dear Mr. Doyle,

I cannot express enough thanks for your careful care of my dear cousin. His wife is particularly pained by his affliction, but she is very grateful for all the help you've given. I will be in London this next week to help my mistress with her shopping and to pay a visit to her dear husband. Please enclose instructions with any preparations that might need to be made for such a visit.

I raise an eyebrow as I stifle a yawn. This is all? Letters of thanks from his patients' families? What is so terribly secretive about that? This can't be all that Tom has been hiding. I stuff the letter back into the envelope and look to the next one on the pile. It is from the same address. And the one beneath that. And the next one, and the next, and the next… They're all from the same address. I snatch the first letter again and continue reading. The rest of the letter continues in much the same vein as the first paragraph, until the very last paragraph.

When I am in London, I will be free on Wednesday, as my mistress will be calling on friends. I trust you will make arrangements for the day. I miss you terribly and when I have repaid my debt to my cousins, I hope that I might move to London and we will see more of each other. I wish we did not have to correspond in secret. I loathe this sneaking around, though it does rather remind me of my school days. Which also reminds me, do be kind to your sister. She is only concerned for your welfare, despite whatever annoyances you may perceive. Until next week,
Yours truly,
Nan Washbrad

Eyes wide, I reread the last paragraph over and over again. It couldn't be possible. But truly, there was only one explanation. I looked to the top of the letter and read the date. Quickly doing the math in my head, I calculated Ann's visit for tomorrow. A determined smile curled my lips as I replaced the letter and tried the jimmy the lock back. I was not going to let Tom out of my sight tomorrow, come hell or high water.

Oh my God, you guys have no idea how hard it was for me not to crack a "Simon Says" joke when Gemma was asking Pippa about her visit to Simon. But I restrained myself. Feel free to make your own jokes – I enjoy witty reviews.

And, yes, Ann is using the name she made up for the Order to sign her letters. Don't worry, Tom knows who she really is – she's just protecting herself in case her letters get read by somebody else.

Okey dokey, fifteen reviews and you've got the next chapter! Ready, set go!