A/N: This chapter has taken a lot longer than originally planned

A/N: This chapter has taken a lot longer than originally planned. I have no way to defend myself other than to say I was trying to get it right. Please Review, I review your stories, do me the same favor!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, to my beta Bevin BrightEyes, who has been incredibly patient as I churned out this next installment!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own these characters. I wish I could Kartik, but every time I get anywhere close to capturing him, he runs away. He's practically a gypsy, that sexy, sexy, man. He's a free spirit. And Gemma, she just disappears. I think to the realms. Those stupid meanies. Lucky Libba Bray.

Take Me Away

We try the door of the chapel, but it will not budge. With his free hand, Kartik knocks forcefully on the door. I realize that I have always loved and respected him for this. No matter the situation, my Kartik is always able to take charge and remain calm. Just a little while ago, he almost died, yet he continues to be my rock.

I am brought out of my reverie by a gentle tug on my hand. "Come Gemma. We must go inside," Kartik tells me gently. I see the others have already entered, and they look back at me speculatively.

"Terribly sorry," I say, and walk into the gloomy chapel as Kartik closes the door behind me. I notice all the girls cowering together, rightly terrified for their lives. I wonder if all the horrors have ended here because I fixed things as well as I could in the Realms.

Mrs. Nightwing approaches us, anxiously counting our numbers, her eyes widening when she notices the one who was left behind. This evening, she has visibly aged. And knowing her friend, one of her few remaining allies of the former Order is gone forever, fallen to a dead student, might be the final blow.

She counts us, once, twice, three times. "Sahirah is gone then," she says warily. I hear a flicker of emotion, but I do not think she is capable of more.

Mrs. Nightwing looks down, mournful. But she soon returns to the persona of the headmistress I have always known. She raises her head and takes a few deep breaths, composing herself. I have underestimated her sense of self and her strength. There is still much to be done, so she shall do it.

Ann looks around suddenly. I can tell by the gleam in her eyes that she is worried.

"Where is Mother Elena?" She sounds almost angry at the thought that the elderly gypsy woman might have abandoned us when needed. We have wronged her so much, my mother in particular, perhaps that would be her retribution upon us, her revenge. Ann must realize something, something that remains hidden to me. She speaks softly, fearfully, "Did the—did the creatures get her?"

"No. She refused to succumb to their powers. Her heart," Mrs. Nightwing tells us somberly. For all that she has lost this evening, there is so much more to lose, so much more hurt that is possible. All beings open to love are also open to experiencing the most pain.

Love. It is our greatest strength and our greatest weakness. It is how we form the bonds that tie us to those that surround us. How we realize who we may trust, and who we may not. But the dark ones, they know that because we are capable of such emotions, to hurt one of our own, is to hurt all of us. It shall ever be a need to strike a balance. The precarious balance between obsession and discord that makes our relationships stronger.

The other girls, Cecily, Martha and Elizabeth, stare at me curiously, trying to save face and hide their obvious fear. Perhaps they consider me a monkey to be watched and jeered at. Perhaps, if luck should have it, they might throw me a six pence, to apologize for my obvious simple mindedness. They look down their perfect noses at me, because I have some oddities. Because my life is different from theirs.

Throughout this horror, they have maintained their hard shells. Those shells allow them to be proper ladies. To do all that is expected of them, and to never complain. But perfection comes with a cost. They lose any idea of independence, and how to achieve dreams that are wholly unrelated to what their social-climbing families demand. Unlike me, they are capable of sitting still, going to teas, watching their words for fear of offending this great lord or that legendary lady. Perhaps they have trained themselves to be "true" ladies, so that they are no longer capable of original thoughts. Maybe that is a blessing. To yearn for nothing, to have everything they could ever want in a good husband and pretty children.

I, however, am different. My errant desires, I know no one in my family would approve. I want love, passion, fire. I want Kartik. I have noticed that his swarthy skin seems to glow with the fervor of his emotions. Everything he does is to the utmost, and I thank him for completing me.

"Help them, Gemma," I hear Mrs. Nightwing say to me. Her voice is distant, much more so than of a woman standing in close proximity. My incapability to stay focused on the task at hand and my forbidden thoughts have weakened my fragile calm. I realize that I am on the verge of collapse.

I feel arms around me, yet they seem to be only in my imagination. Even Kartik's strength cannot penetrate the fog I have given myself to. It is my escape, where I feel no guilt, no responsibility. Here, in my special place, I do not even feel the magic flowing through me.

There is one thing that brings me back. Kartik's sweet warm lips on mine. He tastes of nutmeg and mystery. I wish I could bottle his perfume, to have him with me forever. And then, I realize, that I can have him forever. He loves me as I love him, and he wants to be with me for the rest of our lives.

His love gives me strength. As all the young ladies file past me, I gently touch their shoulders, knowing that only a whisper of contact is enough. Instead of letting them live with harsh realities, everything that has transpired becomes a wayward dream, a distant nightmare. In the morning, when they awaken to face a new day, they will remember the dreamlike qualities of the evening, but not the all-consuming fear.

The only fear they might remember is walking through this dark stormy night. The storm has begun to rage, so different from the eerie magical gale of earlier in the evening. There are no gargoyles that swoop and soar. The mythical creatures that I count amongst my friends, yet would make Cecily, Mary and Elizabeth faint, have returned to their eternal posts. They protect our school. They protect us from the creatures that seek to control and destroy us, and they protect us from ourselves.

I shall wonder forever more how they never give up on us. They are always watching, waiting to help us. Such faith is heartening, but undeserved. Even within our school, catty behavior should make us undeserving of the pure love they offer us. All there is for them, all we can offer, is our gratitude.

--

"Gemma. I have to leave now." Kartik's voice surprises me. Without me even realizing, we have returned to the school, and now we stand in the middle of the Great Hall. Unusually, some of the candles have been lit, casting the room in a shadowy glow. I know that we are alone, and I wonder how Mrs. Nightwing could have allowed such a thing. Perhaps, there are chinks in her seemingly impenetrable armor.

The meaning of his words hit me. He wants to leave me alone. I shall have to spend the night in my own lonely bed, while he goes heaven knows where. And suddenly, overriding all else, is overwhelming fear. If he leaves me alone, then he has nowhere to go. Without each other, we are vulnerable. I shan't allow it.

"No!" There is more desperation in my voice than I like, but I hope he does not hear it.

Kartik's dark eyes soften. He pulls me close, and I know he knows. "I am always with you, Gemma. Watching." He looks at me so earnestly, I can do nothing but accept his words as the truth. Kartik hesitates, as if he is not sure if he should go on. "If you wish it, I will come to you tonight. You do not have to sleep in your bed alone."

It takes me a few seconds to realize. I wonder if he wishes to join with me as we were joined in the Cave of Sighs. I speculate as to how important it is that we are joined in matrimony before such an act. Can vows change what we really feel? I do not presume so. Even if we were to wait until that blessed wedding night, where all pretenses would disappear, what could we achieve?

Does it matter so much if I reveal myself to him without the security of wedded bliss? Is my body such a thing that I cannot give it freely; does my body come with the price of a contract? Is my virtue something that I should give to Kartik only after he gives me a marriage? And of what use is my virtue, when I must battle monsters that reside in dreams? When I know the pure ecstasy that can come of knowing the one you belong with, I cannot force myself to resist.

And just like that, my mind is made up. I smile at Kartik, and lead him out of the Great Hall. Before stepping up, onto the looking staircase, I glance around surreptitiously for Brigid. She is the one who now knows everything, but might still revert to her old ways. From her I might receive an admonishing glare, for being out and about past curfew. And with a man—it's unthinkable.

We arrive at my room, and I whisper, "This is my door."

"And I assume, that beyond this lovely door, is an even lovelier bedroom?"

I blush, and I'm thankful that the darkness conceals my embarrassment. He has been in my room before, but never by my own invitation. Never have I planned such a scandalous thing. And truly, I have a plan. I shall lead him in, sit him upon my bed, and if my courage holds out, I shall undress before him. I blush again. The crimson in my cheeks makes me feel hot, as I can almost feel Kartik's hands upon me—Anne.

I have completely forgotten about Anne. It could never do for her to be in the room with us. I wonder if I might escape Kartik for only a moment, so that I can, with as much dignity and manners as possible, request that Anne leave. I am sure that Felicity would welcome her into her room. In fact, I am sure that Fee would have to resist dancing at the thought of me and Kartik being locked in a room together, with no chaperone in sight.

I turn to face Kartik. "I need a moment," I whisper.

Kartik nods, and I slip inside and shut the door quietly, before he might have the chance to follow me inside. I know that once we are together, there can be no way for me to resist him.

In the midnight darkness, I creep towards Ann's bed, careful not to upset anything. Even the slightest sound could bring other girls running. I notice that her bed is made, and it is obvious that she has already visited our bedroom. Her dress has been hung and her nightgown is gone. Fee probably brought Ann to her own room for the night. I vow to go along with any adventurous plan Fee might concoct next. Feeling as though I might kiss both of my friends, I tiptoe to the door.

"Come inside," I say to Kartik as I open the door and pull him inside. I suddenly feel brash, and push him onto the bed. He stares at me, transfixed, as I begin to undress. First I pull off my shoes, and stretch my toes, enjoying my relief from the compressing shoes. Then come the buttons of my dress, and I blush at the décolletage I reveal. I look at Kartik through my lashes, shyly. He stares at me, and I know instinctively that he has not blinked.

"Gemma." And with that word, the spell is broken. In a rush, I am left bare before him. Wearing only my underpinnings, I allow him to let his eyes have their fill.

And just as I am prepared to give myself to him, he stops me. "Is this truly what you want, Gemma? Do you not wish to save yourself for a gentleman you were born to marry?"

I shake my head and kiss him, letting my lips convey my answer.

"The only man I ever want to marry stands before me. And I don't think he would mind if I chose to wait."

--

I awake in Kartik's arms. If this is not Nirvana, then surely there can be no gods.

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