That button—it’s familiar somehow.

I fight my way back to consciousness, gasping for breath. The gray button. It was beneath the floorboards with Mother’s diary.

I leap out of bed. The light coming through the windows is weak and watery; the gray sky is streaked with palest pink. It’s been only a handful of hours since I went to sleep. I inch the door open and pad barefoot down the hall in my chemise. Around me, the house is silent.

The button is still where I left it, in the right-hand drawer of Mother’s writing desk. Small, plain, unprepossessing.

I weigh it in the palm of my hand. Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can feel the magic in it, pulsing strong and steady as a heartbeat. Does that mean my magic is stronger now than Mother’s?

“Acclaro.”

The button reveals itself as a note, folded twice over and sealed with wax.

Mother used her best blue stationery. The handwriting isn’t the dark, frantic scrawl at the end of her diary. This was written before—deliberately. Thoughtfully.

Why didn’t she give it to me sooner?

My hands shake as I begin to read.

Dearest Cate—

If you have found this, I am gone. Have you read my diary? If not, you will find it nearby. That is the place to start. I do not knowhowto tell you this . . . I am not as brave as you, my dear girl, but you must knowit. You must knowit and do everything in

your power to guard against it. If Tess is a witch, then the three of you may well be the three sisters of the oracle’s last prophecy. The prophecy foretells that one of the sisters will be the most powerful witch born in centuries—powerful enough to bring about the resurgence of the Daughters of Persephone or, if she falls to the Brotherhood, bring about a second Terror. But only two of the sisters will survive to see the twentieth century—because one sister will kill another.

My heart breaks to think it—I cannot imagine such a thing.All sisters have their petty arguments and jealousies, but I have seen howyou and your sisters love one another. Yet your godmother spent years researching the oracles, and she found no fallacies. The prophecies of Persephone’s oracles always come to pass.

You must find a way to prevent this, Cate. I stop reading, though there is more.

I go back and reread my mother’s words, sure I’ve misunderstood.

No, it says it quite plainly:one sister will kill another.

It can’t be me and Maura and Tess, then. I might want to slap them sometimes, Maura especially, but I would never harm them. Never. I keep reading.

If Tess has manifested, I imagine the Sisters are watching the three of you closely. Mind-magic is a rare gift. If they discover that you possess it, they will want you to join their fight against the Brotherhood. They can offer you many things—protection and education among them. But they don’t think of individuals, only the legacy of magic.

I do not regret many things in my life, Cate, but I used mind-magic at the Sisters’behest when I was at their school, and I do not believe it was warranted or right. I used it again to escape that life, and I have never forgiven myself. It is wrong to go into the minds of others without their consent. I have tried to instill in you the belief that it must be used only under direst circumstances. The Sisters would have us wield it freely to regain the witches’power. Their goals are worthy, but their methods can be suspect.

I would not have you forced into a war you did not choose, but with your gifts, I fear it is inevitable.

Be careful, Cate. Choose wisely. Protect your sisters.

Love always,

Mother

By the time I finish, I’m hunched over on the floor, my knees tucked to my chest. Bile rises in my throat, and I force it back down. It leaves my mouth dry and sour.

Now I remember Elena’s warning that making Maura angry was tempting fate. She promised to do everything she could to keep all three of us safe—but the way she said it, with doubt in her voice—and the way she looked at me when she said it, her brown eyes filled with pity—

Brenna’s haunting voice:You can stop it. But not without a sacrifice.

Mother believed in the prophecy. Elena believes it. The Sisterhood believes it.

How will I stop it?

Chapter 17

I RETREAT TO THE SAFETY OF MY room, Mother’s letter crumpled in my hand. I open the curtains and sit on her old velvet settee and inhale the very faint scent of rose water that still permeates it. I watch the sun rise, salmon and pink, over the hill. I listen to the bright twitter-songs of birds and the sounds of the house waking up around me. I think of what to do.

The Sisters will do what’s best for the Daughters of Persephone, not what’s best for the Cahill girls. Mother’s letter made that painfully clear. But how can I keep us out of their clutches?

I don’t want girls throughout New England to grow up frightened and powerless. But my first priority is my promise to Mother. First and foremost, I must keep my own sisters safe.

When I go downstairs for breakfast, I find Elena lurking in the hall. She gives me a serrated smile. “I was waiting for you.”

“Why?” I demand gracelessly.

“It’s time to tell me the truth. Can you do mind-magic, Cate?”

I fight the urge to back away. Instead, I draw myself up to my full height, looming over her. “I told you, I don’t know.”

Elena’s brown eyes bore into mine. “I don’t believe you.”

I glare down at her. “Are you calling me a liar?”

She sidesteps the question, fiddling with one jade teardrop earring. Her dress is pink with mint-green piping today. “I think you’re frightened. I couldn’t break your glamour in the garden. Neither could your sisters. A witch that powerful would be welcomed—celebrated—by the Sisters. You’re too powerful to fritter away your talents like this.”

“What happened in the garden was a fluke.” I avoid her eyes, looking into the gilt-edged mirror above the hall table. My face is paler than usual, with enormous purple shadows beneath my eyes.

“Was it?” Elena lays a hand on my arm, her smooth brown skin a contrast against the icy blue of my dress. “I know one of you can do mind-magic, Cate.”

I pull away under the pretext of fussing with my hair. “I don’t see how that could possibly be true.”

“Your father’s got some very interesting holes in his memory,” she says.

I freeze. How could she know that? “My mother could do mind-magic.”

“But these gaps are fromafterher death. He doesn’t seem to have any memory of Mrs. Corbett suggesting that you go to the Sisters’ convent school,” Elena says. “Funny, that. Who would have used such dark magic to keep you all together?”

Mrs. Corbett, that wretched old bat. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I ought to be thankful she hasn’t turned us in to the Brothers.

“Tess would have been only, what, nine at the time? Ten? That’s too young for her magic to have manifested. That leaves you or Maura, and if Maura knew she could do mind-magic, she would have told me. So we’re back to you.” Elena’s reflection gazes at me from the mirror. “I have an obligation to the Sisters. I don’t think Maura is the one they want, but if you won’t cooperate with me, I daresay she will. She’s eager to go off to New London. She’d leave today if I suggested it—especially if she found out how many secrets you’ve been keeping.