Trix felt like she was watching in slow motion as the key arced prettily through the corridor, heading with some speed for the hard flagstones of the floor.

Dean was swimming breaststroke, moving slowly in the direction of the large black rock. Every few seconds a wave would wash against his face, causing him to splutter. He stopped for a second, treading water while he made sure he was still going in the right direction. He was just in time to see Jeremiah arrive at the rock, beating the nearest student by a body-length, climbing up onto the slick stone and raising his arms triumphantly. Dean watched, wondering if he was still meant to finish the race, or if he could just start swimming back to shore immediately, when Jeremiah's body jerked. It was as though he had been hit by lightning: a shudder spat through his body, causing his arms to jerk backwards, and his legs to buckle beneath him. He fell hard onto his knees then pitched into the water, floated there, face down, next to the student that had been racing him for victory seconds before.

Dean heard Mrs Pooley shouting from the shore. He started to swim again, heading for the floating body, but he was too far away. The student was trying to pull him back onto the rock: he climbed onto its surface and reached down to grab Jeremiah's arm and pull him up, but lost his balance and tumbled into the frothy sea as well. By this time Mrs Pooley had flung a lifebelt out into the water, and another student was ferrying it up towards them. Jeremiah was turned on his back and carefully towed floating back to shore. He lay there, unconscious but breathing, the students and Mrs Pooley clustered around him.

"Jeremiah, Jeremiah?" Mrs Pooley slapped him gently on the cheek, "are you OK?". His eyes snapped open. They rolled as he looked around himself without moving his head until he found Mrs Pooley, "we need to get back into the school, right now" he said.

"Jeremiah? What happened? We're going to take you to the hospital"

"Hospital? Damn the hospital! Get me into the school, now!"

Mrs Pooley ignored him, directing the students to begin lifting him.

"Mrs Pooley! You are not to try and take me to the hospital, one of the wards was just broken!"

Mrs Pooley stood up, putting to her hand to her head and backing away a few steps. "Broken? By who?"

"I can think of only one force who would be able to do such a thing, Andras must have penetrated our defences somehow. I do not know how."

"Not in front of the children, Jeremiah" hissed Mrs Pooley.

"There is no time to be discreet, Delilah, hurry! He might already be inside. Take the students on the bus, get them to the house in London, I will do my best to stop him here."

"You can't even move, what chance do you have against him..."

In response, Jeremiah rolled over and began to climb to his feet painfully with help from one of the students. "I'll be fine" he said, "when the ward broke, it pulled a lot out of me. I'll recover soon enough. He dares attack me here, at Almadel, on my own territory? I will cause him unimaginable pain!"

When the key hit the stone floor it had shattered like a thin sheet of ice. Trix felt it in her body, a clutching in her heart then a sudden release, as something pushed through her, expanding out in all directions from where the key broke, lifting the dust from the floor and sending it whipping around the corridor into her eyes and nose. Her ears rang and she felt light headed. She staggered, having to reach out to support herself against the wall. She blinked through the red blotches that now filled her vision but Emma was nowhere to be seen.

"Trix? Are you OK?"

"Emma?" she said, in a voice half way between a whisper and a shout, "Emma!"

She heard Wilbur talking through the ringing sound "Whats wrong? Are you OK?"

"Don't know", Trix fell down onto her hands and knees where the key had broken, there was nothing bigger than a pea left intact, the gold chain surrounded by tiny fragments of red and white porcelain. She looked up at Wilbur from the floor, her face white. "Did you feel that?"

"Feel what? What do we do now?" he said down to her.

"I don't know." The blood was beginning to return to her head, and bringing with it awareness of how bad their situation was.

"I'm sorry" he said, "I shouldn't have..."

"It's fine", said Trix, it's my own fault for organizing this whole, ridiculous idea , she thought. She had been getting on well with Emma, she had been adjusting to the school, enjoying her time alone, away from her mother for a while. Now, within a minute, everything had turned to dust. She searched for a plan, a way of fixing the problems that had just appeared, but she couldn't think of anything. She felt numb.

"What should we do?" asked Wilbur again, he looked around nervously, "come on, let's go" he reached out a hand to her but Trix didn't take it.

"No. I need to think."

"Trix, we don't have time to wait around here, everyone will be back from the sea any second, they can't find us here. We can't open the door without the key, anyway."

"No, but what will Jeremiah do when he finds it missing. What if he thinks Dean is responsible, they will remember that he went back to the changing room." she shook her head, "I shouldn't have involved you both"

"It's not your fault, I wanted to help."

"No, it is. Forget it, you and Emma are still safe. Find her and take her back to her room, you two stay there and pretend you know nothing. I'll take the blame for this."

"Trix, no. That's not fair"

"It's the only way, that will save Dean, I'll say I snuck in and took the key. No point in all of us being expelled."

"They might not just expel you, Trix. They might call the police."

"All the more reason not to let Dean take the blame them." she said, her voice firm now. This is the only way she thought, the self-sacrifice felt right. It felt good. She could feel it cleansing her. Emma would see, would understand. Her guilt would be assuaged.

Wilbur shook his head, "OK, I'll go find Emma and tell her to sit tight. Are you just going to wait here?"

Trix nodded once, hard.

Tears came to her eyes as soon as Wilbur had left. She pulled her knees up around herself, resting her head between them, letting the warm drops run down her face and onto the floor. They dripped quietly on to the porous stone and were absorbed, leaving just a damp mark. The worst thing, she thought, is that after all this, after losing so much, I still didn't get to see inside that room again. Will that stay with me forever? That mix of fear and curiosity? Will I see this door every time I close my eyes at night? "

She felt a prickling in the nape of her neck, the tiny hairs disturbed by some almost imperceptible movement of air. She turned, still sitting on the floor. Behind her, the door was open a crack. She didn't know when it had happened, there had been no sound she could remember, certainly Wilbur hadn't done it. The darkness inside the room beyond was so deep that it looked solid, like she could grab it and pull it over her shoulders like a cape. She stood, facing the door. The curiosity roared in her head, a white noise that drowned out every other thought, almost covering the tinge of fear: the primal instinct of the prey animal faced with a predator, the desire to flee, to hide. She felt very, very alone. This is how it should have been, anyway. I shouldn't have shared this with Emma, I shouldn't have gotten so close to her. Had I carried this secret myself, taken responsibility for it from the beginning, then things would have gone far smoother. I wouldn't have been putting the others in danger. She reached out her hand, hovering just over the handle. What do I have to lose? she thought, Why shouldn't I go in? Will anyone care, if I don't come out again? This time she expected the warmth of the handle when she gripped it, the warmth of a body, smooth and firm. She stepped into the darkness.