by L. J. Smith
“This was your father’s Book of Shadows,” her mother said, holding it out to her with both hands.
Cassie froze, paralyzed, and felt the blood drain out of her face. Black John’s Book of Shadows—just the thought of it made her shudder. Black magic was something she felt was better left unexplored.
Her mother continued holding the book out to her. “It’s okay,” she said. “You can touch it.”
Cassie reached out to take it from her mother reluctantly. The book felt cruel and cold in her hands—it almost felt alive.
“How did you get this?” Cassie asked.
Her mother sat back down beside her. “It’s a long story. But it’s been hidden here in this house for quite some time. You have to understand, in the wrong hands, this book could be extremely dangerous.”
Like the Master Tools, Cassie thought. “And you want me to have it?”
Her mother’s face was stern. “You’ll need it if you stand any chance of defeating Scarlett.”
The book was heavier than it appeared to be, like its contents were greater than the sum of its pages. It was impossible to comprehend the dark spells and secrets it enclosed. Cassie noticed that its black leather cover wasn’t completely smooth. It was faintly embossed with a symbol that reminded Cassie of the inscriptions on the silver bracelet and the diadem. There were also dull scratches and indentations, like fingernails had worn into its surface. And its upper-right-hand corner was eroded almost completely gray, like a deteriorated oval-shaped stamp.
Black John’s fingerprint, Cassie realized.
She jerked her eyes away from the grayed spot, and her stomach lurched. She was intrigued by it, but it also upset her.
Cassie refocused on the embossed symbol, trying to remember where else she’d seen that design. And then she remembered: It was identical to the inscription on Black John’s lodestone ring, the one used to identify him as John Blake, and later as John Brunswick.
Having this book in her hands was the closest thing now to having Black John there in the room with her. It felt like all the darkness in the world might begin to pour forth from its pages at any moment.
Cassie’s mother watched her handle the book apprehensively. “I know it feels alive to you,” she said. “But it’s just a book, I promise. And you are strong enough to handle it.” There was a candidness in her eyes that Cassie had never seen before.
The book shivered in Cassie’s hands as she tried to calm herself. It was just paper and words, that’s all it was. And its words contained the key to defeating Scarlett, saving the Circle, and getting the Master Tools back. She didn’t have the luxury of pretending this book didn’t exist, as evil and frightening as it felt to her. She couldn’t simply put it back into its hiding place. It was her responsibility to read it, study it, and ingest its secrets until they became part of who she was. Only then would she be strong enough against Scarlett.
Her mother silently observed her mental struggle and seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.
“Remember, Cassie,” she said. “There’s so much goodness in you. There’s much more light in your soul than dark. Do you recognize that?”
Cassie nodded. “I think so.”
“But there are things in this book that won’t be easy for you to read. Do you understand what I mean by that?”
“Yes,” Cassie said.
“If you open it,” her mother warned, “there’s no going back.”
Credits
COVER ART © MICHAEL FROST
COVER DESIGN BY SARAH NICHOLE KAUFMAN
Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
THE SECRET CIRCLE: THE DIVIDE. Copyright © 2012 by Alloy Entertainment and L. J. Smith. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-0-06-213039-6
12 13 14 15 16 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2012 ISBN: 978-0-06-213040-2
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Credits
Copyright
CHAPTER 1
Cassie held her father’s Book of Shadows in her hands and shivered. There would be no going back, her mother had said, but now she watched Cassie expectantly.
The book’s gold deckle-edged pages were cinched closed with a leather string, like a soft, thin belt. Cassie pulled on it, and dust particles flew into the air as its knot came undone, but the book’s cover remained in place.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” her mother said. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
Cassie nodded. If this book contained the secrets to defeating her half sister, Scarlett, and saving the Circle from the hunters, it wasn’t even a question. It was her duty to study it.
She carefully fanned open the book. Its spine cracked and Cassie’s eyes seemed to meld to the page. The text scrawled upon the paper’s yellowed surface was composed of squiggly lines and archaic symbols. The curl of each brushstroke felt forbidden, like Cassie had revealed something not intended for her eyes.
But before Cassie could process exactly what she was seeing, the book grew warm in her hands, and then threateningly hot. Within seconds the skin of her fingers was sizzling, and Cassie couldn’t stop herself from crying out. Her flesh adhered to the book, and she couldn’t pull her hands away despite the scorching pain.
Her mother’s face was stricken with fear, but she acted fast. She raised her palm and with one wide swoop batted the book out of Cassie’s hands and onto the floor.
Cassie released a whimper of relief, but the damage had been done. Her hands were singed red with throbbing, bubbling burns.
She looked at her mother, terrified. “You said it was just a book.”
“It was. Or I thought it was.” Her mother examined Cassie’s injuries to see how serious they were. Then she glanced at where the book had landed facedown on the wooden floor. She moved toward it cautiously, picked it up without harm, and secured it closed by tightly retying the string.
“I’ll put this somewhere safe for now,” she said. “I’m sorry, Cassie. I had no idea that would happen. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I don’t understand.” Cassie gaped at her mother, dizzy for answers. “You said I’d need this book to defeat Scarlett, but how can I study it if I can’t even hold it?”
Her mother shook her head. “I don’t know. It must be spelled, to keep it from being opened by anyone other than its owner.”
“Then I have to figure out how to break the spell. Scarlett is out there somewhere, and she wants to kill me. That book is my only hope against her.”
Her mother raised her hand to halt Cassie’s anxious stream of consciousness. “One thing at a time. Our first priority is to tend to those burns. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
She gave Cassie’s shoulder a quick, loving squeeze, and then she ushered the book out of sight.
When she returned with an armful of gauze and ointment, Cassie’s mind was racing with new questions and concern for her friends who’d been marked by the hunters. “Faye’s and Laurel’s lives might depend on me opening that book,” Cassie said. “I have to try again.”
Her mother sat beside her looking forlorn. “Faye and Laurel are in grave danger.” She reached for Cassie’s hands and began dressing the wounds. “But there are two steps to the process of witch hunters killing a witch: They catch you doing magic and you’re marked, and only then can they perform the killing curse. If we can stop the hunters from performing the second step, your friends will be okay.”
The killing curse. Cassie remembered the hunter mark, the aftermath of the curse on Melanie’s aunt Constance’s forehead the day she died. The Circle hadn’t even known the hunters had marked her until it was too late.
“Why don’t the hunters just perform the killing curse immediately after marking someone?” Cassie asked. “Why wait?”
“Because it takes just one hunter to mark someone, but the killing curse requires several of them.” Cassie’s mother wrapped the burns quickly and efficiently, like a battlefield nurse. “It’s a process, much like a spell, so it can’t just happen at any moment.”
Cassie winced as the harsh gauze touched her raw skin.
“So Faye and Laurel will need to be protected,” her mother said. “But tonight, the only thing for you to do is rest.”
Cassie nodded. She still had so many questions, but the pain was making her weary. She moved to the comfort of her own bed and felt her eyes grow heavy. She allowed them to close as sleep overtook her. But even in the soft dark of her own eyelids, Cassie could see the glowing outline of her father’s book shining against the black.
The next morning, Cassie’s mind was still running in circles while she waited on her front porch for Adam to pick her up for school. She tried to relax, to admire the sun glinting red off the windows of each house on the bluff, but there was too much to be anxious about. In the past week Cassie had learned that her half sister wanted to kill her and take over the Circle—and she’d nearly succeeded. They’d had a confrontation in Cape Cod, and Cassie had chased Scarlett away, but she’d escaped with the Master Tools.
As if that weren’t enough, there was also the issue of the hunters. The Circle was now sure that Max and his father—Principal Boylan—were witch hunters. They’d already marked Laurel and Faye with the hunter symbol, and it was possible they knew the identities of all the Circle members.
Cassie looked down at the gray paint peeling off the front porch. This old house, she thought, this antiquated town. There was no escaping its ancient history.
It was a sunny, windless day, but how could Cassie enjoy it? She pulled the sleeves of her purple hoodie down over her hands to cover her burns. She would have disappeared entirely into its soft cotton if she could. And then she heard something—a rustling in the bushes. It’s just the breeze, she told herself, but not a single blade of grass stirred.
There was the crunching of leaves. It was coming from her left, along the row of shrubs that lined the path to the house’s side door—an opportune place for an intruder to break in, or for Scarlett to sneak her way into Cassie’s home.
Treading lightly across the rickety wooden porch, Cassie stepped closer to the sound. The shrubs moved again—this time she saw it with her own eyes—and she screamed, “Scarlett!”
An orange tabby cat shot out from the wavering hedge, zipping past Cassie and up a neighbor’s tree. The cat’s prey was left behind in the uncut grass: a sorry-looking field mouse. Cassie exhaled. She would have laughed out loud at herself if she weren’t so embarrassed.
She walked back around to the front porch just as Adam pulled up to the curb. Her heart hadn’t yet returned to its regular rhythm when she climbed into the passenger seat of his old Mustang and leaned over for a kiss.
“What were you doing in the backyard?” Adam asked as he pulled out of her driveway and onto Crowhaven Road. “Running laps? You’re all sweaty.”
“Is that any way to greet your girlfriend?” Cassie joked. “By telling her she’s perspiring?”
Adam smiled. “I’m just saying you look hot, that’s all. Hot and humid.” He waited for her to laugh, and when she didn’t he tilted his head at her apologetically.
Cassie appreciated Adam’s sense of humor, even when he was teasing her. No matter how dire the situation was with the hunters and with Scarlett, Adam was still able to make light of things. Cassie needed that now more than ever.
She focused on the sparkle in his blue-gray eyes and thought of the silver cord, that mystifying bond that connected Adam’s soul to hers. What did it mean that she’d also seen a cord connecting Adam to Scarlett on the night of their battle? Could she have imagined it? Cassie could hardly think about it. She reached for Adam’s free hand and interlaced her fingers with his.
“Is that from the fire in Cape Cod?” Adam asked. He lifted Cassie’s sleeve up, revealing the blistering spots on her left hand. “I didn’t realize how bad these were before. Are they getting worse?”
Cassie remained silent, unsure of how to explain these new marks on her body, but her silence only misled Adam to believe he’d been correct about their source.
“We have to find Scarlett,” he said. “She has to pay for this and everything else she’s done.” Cassie still didn’t know what to say; the situation was much more complicated than that.
“How can you sit there so calmly?” He took his eyes off the road to momentarily glance at Cassie. “You’ve been physically, and most likely permanently, scarred by her. We can’t let her get away with this.”
“These burns aren’t from my battle with Scarlett,” Cassie said, more abruptly than she’d meant to. “They’re from last night.”
Adam slowed the car almost to a stop. “Last night? What happened last night?”
Cassie watched a crowded school bus zip past them on the left. Behind them, a frustrated tailgater honked his horn. “I don’t want to keep any secrets from you,” she said. “But if I tell you something, I need it to stay between us.”
Adam pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine, sensing this would require his full attention. “I think it goes without saying by this point, but you can trust me.”
They were stopped in front of Sprinkles Donut Shop, and the air smelled like sugar and frosting.
“My mother gave me something last night. Something that had been hidden in my grandmother’s house for a long time,” Cassie said, and then paused. She knew she could tell Adam anything and he wouldn’t judge her, but it was still difficult getting the words out.
“Don’t tell me there are more Master Tools we didn’t know about. That would be incredible.” Adam’s voice was hopeful in a way that made Cassie’s heart break.
“No. But it is something that belonged to Black John.”
Adam’s posture straightened at the sound of Black John’s name and he sat icily still.
“I have his Book of Shadows,” Cassie said.
She watched Adam’s expression turn from apprehensive to excited. “Are you serious?” he shouted. “Do you realize how much we can learn from that book?”
“There’s more,” Cassie said, before Adam could get carried away. “When I opened it, it was like the book turned against me, like it was alive in my hands. Just like when the Master Tools backfired on me when I was battling Scarlett.”
Adam nodded, remembering how the Tools had obeyed Scarlett’s black m
agic. They’d singed Cassie’s skin just before they unhinged themselves from her body and flew at Scarlett’s outstretched hands. “That explains the burns,” he said. “But what’s the connection between the two?”
“I think the book is spelled,” Cassie said. “Something to prevent the wrong people from getting a hold of it. But it wasn’t like I could read it anyway. It’s written in some ancient language I’ve never seen before. It doesn’t even look like words.”
“We should have Diana search her Book of Shadows for information.” Adam immediately went into strategizing mode. “There must be a way to break the book’s spell. And we can all start researching the language. There’s a chance it could be Sumerian, or even cuneiform. Black John’s ancestors would go back that far.”
“Adam,” Cassie interrupted him. “Remember you agreed we could keep this between us?”
Adam’s face dropped. He looked away momentarily. “But that was before I knew what it was.”
“I’m sorry,” Cassie said. “But I need to understand more of what this is before involving the rest of the Circle. This is about me and my father.”
“It’s a pretty big deal.” Adam’s voice hit that pitch it always did when he was exasperated. “We have to tell the Circle eventually.”
“I know,” Cassie said as gently as she could. She reminded herself that Adam’s passion and perseverance were her favorite things about him. “I just need a little time.”
She fiddled with the few strands of reddish-brown hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “For now, let this be our secret.”
Adam nodded, realizing he was pushing too hard. “Okay. But in the meantime I want to help in any way I can. I’ll do research, whatever you need. Just name it.”
Cassie felt her shoulders settle. “Thank you,” she said, reaching out to him. “For now, all I need is your support.”
“Always.” Adam brought Cassie’s injured hand to his warm lips and kissed it.