Eleonore cradled Georgie.  He lay limp, his skin cold and clammy.  His pulse fluttered like a dying butterfly under her fingertips.  She tried to reach him again and again, but he had slipped somewhere deep, far beneath her power. 

Below her the house shuddered and snapped, loud with breaking wood and heavy crashes, but none of that mattered.  She focused on her hoarse whisper, pouring every iota of her power into the words.  "Come on, sweetheart.  Come back to me.  Come back to your grandmère  You don't want to leave me, do you?"

She felt only darkness.

"Come back to me, baby."

Her magic suffused her.  A faint glow spread from her face to her fingertips.  In the darkness of the attic and in the darkness that had swallowed Georgie, Eleonore became a beacon. 

"Come back to me."

She was so intent on finding him, it took her several seconds to realize that all had gone quiet. 

The trapdoor quaked.  Someone or something had grasped the pull rope from below and jerked it.   Eleonore began to chant soundlessly, gathering the magic around her.  She couldn't flash, not like Rose, but she was no push over.

The next tug tore the latch from the wood.  The ladder dropped down. 

The magic swirled around her like a death cloud.  Malevolent streaks shot through her glow, twisting about her like furious ribbons.  It would take her life in payment for its services, but she had no choice.  Anything to buy Georgie a few more minutes.