by L. J. Smith
Cassie didn’t have the time to deal with Scarlett’s threat or her manipulative mind games. She turned to Nick and searched his face and body for more signs of trouble.
Adam’s last comment had rattled him. His eyes were black pinpoints, and the skin on his face squirmed.
“Nick,” Cassie said, rubbing his back. “Stay with me.”
He groaned quietly and subconsciously at Cassie’s touch.
“You’re Nick Armstrong,” Cassie said. “Your parents’ names were Nicholas and Sharon.”
Nick’s face softened in a way that made Cassie believe she was reaching the real him in there.
“Your favorite song is ‘Beast of Burden’ by the Rolling Stones,” she said.
“I remember,” Nick said without looking at her. “Do you remember our first kiss? I’d just been listening to that song.”
Cassie continued rubbing his back with one hand. With the other she monitored the beating of his heart.
“It was the night you and the girls did that candle ceremony,” Nick said. “And you’d gone out alone to bury that trust box, and Black John attacked you.”
He appeared to get lost in the recollection. “You were so scared, but you still looked so beautiful in the moonlight. And your lips were so soft . . .”
Cassie felt the rhythm of Nick’s heart slow beneath her hand.
“How about one of the most vivid memories of my life?” Nick asked. “The time we were on the bluff and the hunters attacked us with fire. A lightning bolt struck that tree, and—”
“And you jumped in front of it and saved my life,” Cassie said. How could she forget?
“And when we were at the spring dance,” Nick said. “It was just the two of us when Scarlett showed up.”
Cassie finished Nick’s sentence for him. “And you risked your life by performing magic out in the open, getting marked to save me.”
Nick nodded and smiled.
It occurred to Cassie that Nick was recalling these memories to hold on to who he really was, but they were actually proof of his persistent love for her since she’d known him. His love.
“I’m okay now,” Nick said. “I’m still with you.”
His heartbeat was steady and regular, almost peaceful. Cassie removed her hand from his chest.
Nick was so obviously beaten down and in pain, Cassie had the urge to cry. But she couldn’t lose her nerve and let him see her weaken now.
“You did well,” she said. “You managed to bring yourself back.”
She put her arm around him, and they continued their walk to school. “You’re the strongest boy I know,” she said.
CHAPTER 9
Cassie arrived at her locker to find it wide open and emptied. Ransacked was more like it. All her books were strewn about the floor, split at their spines. She’d been at school less than an hour, and the possessed Circle had already begun wreaking havoc.
She looked to the left and right, then began picking up her books. The hallway was crowded with students, but hardly anyone paid her much attention. It wasn’t until she piled the last textbook into her locker that Deborah, Sean, and Doug came thundering down the hall.
They walked shoulder to shoulder. They were dressed in all black. Cassie could see the sheen in their eyes. They were performing magic right out in the open.
Like Faye, they were capable of doing magic without having to call out spells. With only the power of their minds, they took aim at people in the hallway. Sean focused on Mr. Tanner, a teacher Cassie knew had once unfairly punished him. Mr. Tanner’s briefcase flew from his hand, cracking open onto the hallway floor. Its contents—test papers and attendance sheets, late passes and pencils—swirled up around him in a tornado.
There was no longer any doubt in Cassie’s mind that the spirits were somehow absorbing the feelings of her friends and using them for their own purposes. The possession was becoming more seamless and, most likely, closer to permanent.
Mr. Tanner’s face and neck reddened as he tried to catch hold of his things. He was trembling, looking around embarrassed and terrified, unable to fathom where this stiff wind came from.
Sean stepped in front of him, meeting his eyes. He smiled wickedly, then snapped his fingers. Mr. Tanner’s belongings dropped to the floor.
Deborah shot Cassie a menacing look that made her understand the danger unfolding at school this morning was only the beginning. Cassie wanted to turn away but found she couldn’t. Deborah was forcing her to watch what would happen next, as if she’d peeled Cassie’s eyelids back and fastened them open with clothespins.
Sally Waltman was unlucky enough to turn the corner at that moment. The bullying smile on Deborah’s face twisted into something more frightening. She glanced upward, and Cassie followed her line of vision, knowing she had only a few seconds to react.
Cassie leapt before she fully knew why and knocked Sally out of the way just before a fluorescent light fell from the ceiling. It shattered on the floor where Sally had been just a moment before.
Everyone nearby dove for cover. Shards of glass slashed through the air. A single sliver nicked Cassie’s cheek.
Mr. Humphries came running down the hall, commanding everyone out of the way. Cassie stood up from where she was lying on the floor, but Sally remained stretched out, facedown.
Deborah winked at Cassie and then gave Sean and Doug a nudge. They moved along, out of the way, blending with the other students. Cassie didn’t have it in her to chase after them.
Mr. Humphries turned Sally over, ordering the cluster of onlookers to stand back. Her eyes were closed, and Cassie couldn’t tell if she was breathing. Specks of shiny glass dotted her pink cardigan.
Mr. Humphries squeezed Sally’s wrist and felt her neck for a pulse as the surrounding crowd of students gathered closer and closer to her unmoving body.
“Somebody call an ambulance!” Mr. Humphries screamed out, but in the next second Sally’s eyes opened and sharpened with a gradual consciousness to the situation. She tried to sit up.
Cassie exhaled, realizing only then that she’d been holding her breath. She and Sally locked eyes before Sally checked her body over for injuries.
“I’m okay,” she said to Mr. Humphries.
Cassie could see that only her hands were speckled with tiny dots of blood. The rest of her body had been spared, thankfully.
Mr. Humphries’s face was white as a sheet. “Cassie, will you take her to the nurse?” he asked. “I have to find the head custodian. That light was obviously not installed properly. She could have been killed!”
Sally was visibly okay—just shaken—but Mr. Humphries might have been even more upset than she was. Cassie agreed to take Sally to the nurse to appease him.
Once he was gone and out of earshot, Cassie put her arm around Sally. “You’re safe now,” she said.
The crowd dispersed, and Sally looked at Cassie warily. “Do you think that falling light was really the custodian’s fault?”
Cassie shook her head. Of all the Outsiders at school, Sally was the only one who knew the truth about the Circle and their magic—and she’d proven herself an ally. She didn’t deserve to be placated or lied to.
“No,” Cassie said. “That was no accident.”
Sally was still trembling.
“But I’m working on it,” Cassie added.
“Let’s just go to the assembly,” Sally said. “I’m fine.”
The auditorium was full by the time Cassie and Sally arrived, but none of her possessed friends were to be seen. Cassie tried to breathe easy. She hoped they’d taunted her enough for one day and had gone back to the warehouse.
Sally spotted Nick in the crowd, and they joined him.
“Why do you have glass in your hair?” Nick asked, as he pulled a tiny sparkling shard from Sally’s rust-colored curls. It resembled a diamond earring.
“It’s a long story,” Cassie said. “I’ll tell you later.”
Mr. Lanning appeared on stage and tapped on the mic
rophone. Once he quieted everyone down he began to say a few words about Principal Boylan.
“We’re gathered here to mourn the death of a kind and generous man,” he said. “A man we unfortunately didn’t have the pleasure of knowing longer.”
He paused to let his words settle over the crowd in waves. “By now you’ve all heard about the terrible car accident that took Principal Boylan’s life. And I’m sure you’re all still processing the pain and confusion that comes with this tragedy. For this reason, there will be grief counselors on hand immediately following this assembly. But first, it’s with a heavy heart that I’d like to call Principal Boylan’s son, Max, to the stage.”
Nobody seemed sure if they should clap as Max took his place at the podium. There were a few stray coughs. All eyes scrutinized his every movement.
How awful, Cassie thought as she watched Max adjust the microphone and swallow down the lump in his throat, for him to be obligated to say a few words about his father’s “accident.” But Max carried himself with the utmost dignity as he spoke. His voice echoed over the auditorium.
“My father was a leader,” Max said. “A man with a strong moral code, who never abandoned what he believed to be right.”
Cassie recognized many of those same traits in Max, too. Watching him and listening to him, and thinking back to all the photographs in his room, Cassie truly understood his goodness.
“He cared about this school and this town very much,” Max continued. “He wanted what was best for all of us, and he worked for that every day of his life.”
Max appeared to be wrapping up, finally reaching the end of those treacherous minutes in the spotlight, when both doors to the auditorium swung open, crashing loudly against the wall.
All heads turned to witness the disturbance. Every muscle in Cassie’s body tightened.
It was the possessed Circle. Five at one door, five at the other. They formed a line barricading the exit.
Diana’s posture was foreboding. Faye’s dark hair tumbled onto her shoulders like a black shadow. Adam’s eyes were electric with vengeance.
Just then the only empty seat in the auditorium, the one in the front row where Max had been sitting, burst into flames.
Mr. Lanning rushed for the fire extinguisher but was thrown backward—through the air and hard onto the ground—when it also exploded into flames. The fire spread quickly: up the wall, across the timbered auditorium floor, flaring like kindling.
Teachers and students shoved one another, trying to escape through the narrow exit doors. The room became a jumble of screams and elbows; the weak and small were trampled beneath the bigger shoes of the strong. Cassie lost sight of the ancestors in the smoke and panic.
She turned to Sally. “Get out of here. Nick and I will do what we can.”
More seats exploded, and fire swelled high into the aisles. Sally crouched down below the heavy cloud of smoke and crawled on her belly to safety.
Nick raised his arms and called out: “No air for fire! No air for fire, no air for fire!”
The flames momentarily became still, and then bowed to him, shrinking gradually—suffocating.
Max was standing motionless on stage with his arms down at his sides. He looked directly at Cassie with his mouth hanging half open.
Nick continued to talk down the flames, overpowering the fire with his will. Through the lessening black smoke, Cassie took inventory of the bodies rolling and coughing, or lying unconscious on the ground. She ran toward Max but was distracted by a low rumble, then a loud crack.
She stopped short.
The ceiling overhead began falling down in pieces all around her—slowly at first, then in a rapid avalanche of cracked plaster and splintered wooden beams.
Cassie covered her head with her hands and turned around just in time to see Nick knocked down by the falling debris. Max had also been buried, out of sight. No one made a sound.
Cassie looked up, thinking she might actually see blue sky, so much of the ceiling had come down. And there they were: Adam, Diana, Faye, and the rest of her friends, hovering in the air. They were levitating, safely among the only standing rafters left to the auditorium’s roof.
Cassie closed her eyes and searched her mind for a spell. She steadied her breath and called to the dark pit that resided in her belly.
She felt herself flush with heat from the inside out, and that ominous feeling from deep within rose up. She knew that it was her dark magic—the only magic that would be strong enough to overpower the ancestors. Cassie gave herself over to it, allowing the spell to come to her: Cadens obruta, consurget.
Like vomit, the words spewed from her mouth. “Cadens obruta, consurget!”
As Cassie raised her arms, the fallen wreckage rose with them.
“Consurget!” she shouted.
All the wood and beams and broken shards of plaster that had rained down over Cassie’s head flew back up from the floor toward the ceiling.
Her friends ducked and dodged the oncoming wave of debris. Shafts of plywood and metal shot up at them like arrows.
“Duratus!” Cassie called out, and they were unable to move. They were swiftly becoming buried from the ground up, pinned to the ceiling with more and more rubble.
No longer trapped beneath the wreckage, Nick climbed to his feet. He wiped the shadow of plaster and ash from his eyes.
“Check on Max,” Cassie said.
But Max, too, had climbed back up to a standing position. His face was battered and his lip leaked blood, but aside from that he appeared unharmed. He brushed the white dust and dirt from his clothes.
Nick touched a swelling bruise above his eyebrow. “How long do you think they’ll be trapped up there?” he asked.
Somewhere in the distance, outside the school building, Cassie could hear a siren coming closer. “Long enough for us to get out of here.” She turned to Max. “What do you say we get right to work on that exorcism spell?”
“I’d say we’re overdue,” Max said, making his way through the ruined auditorium toward the exit.
CHAPTER 10
Max leaned both his skinned elbows on the tabletop as he hovered over the page of Black John’s Book of Shadows they were trying to translate. He and Nick were banged up from the auditorium, with fat lips and puffy bruises purpling their faces, but neither of them showed any pain—tough guys that they were.
Max pointed at an odd triangular shape. “This symbol is a triskelion within a circle,” he said. “I recognize it from somewhere.”
Cassie and Nick had gone directly to Max’s house from the auditorium so they could study the book together. They were shut up in his room with the door locked and Black John’s book open between them.
Cassie took her eyes away from the symbol momentarily to watch Max pull a few cardboard boxes out from beneath his bed. There were many boxes under there, Cassie noticed. The ones visible appeared to be filled with old maps and yellowed papers, coins and amulets. One was stacked full with leather journals. That was the box Max dug through.
He pulled out an ancient-looking book.
“Is that your own Book of Shadows?” Nick asked.
“Pretty much. Well, the hunter version of it anyway,” Max said. “Same idea.”
The book was delicately bound, and when he opened it, dust fell from its spine. By the writing and markings covering its pages, Cassie could tell it had been passed down for generations.
In a few minutes, Max found the page he was looking for. “Here,” he said.
Nick took the book from Max’s hands. “I don’t believe it. It’s the same triangle shape.” He placed the two books side by side.
The symbols were identical.
“My ancestors tried exorcism as a way to fight off witches,” Max said. “That’s what this page in my book talks about.”
The text Max pointed to was partially written in what Cassie recognized as Latin. The rest was composed of an ancient language she couldn’t identify.
“It didn’
t work for them,” Max said. “But they did know about this symbol.”
“Which means this page of my father’s book must contain information about performing an exorcism,” Cassie said, finally catching up to Max’s train of thought. “Otherwise why else would the symbol be printed on it?”
“Exactly. It’ll still take some time to translate,” Max said. “But it’s good to know we’re on the right track. This section of your father’s book is definitely the area we should be focusing on. The entire exorcism spell might be right here on this page.”
Cassie’s pulse raced. She felt as though she’d been shaken awake. “You’re the best,” she said to Max. “You know that?”
Max looked away, not meeting her eyes. “I’m only doing what I can to make sure more people don’t get hurt.”
“That’s as good a reason as any,” Nick said, seeming to appreciate Max in a whole new way. He gave him a brotherly smack on the back.
Cassie copied the page with the symbol on it from her father’s book onto a fresh sheet of paper. Max would still hold on to the book for safekeeping, but now Cassie had a copy of what she needed to continue working on.
The papers crinkled as she stuffed them deep into her bag. “This was the best thing to happen to me all day,” she said.
Max squinted at her and allowed himself a half-smile. “On a day like today, that’s really not saying much.”
“Good point,” Cassie said, and laughed.
Enjoying a sense of accomplishment, Cassie and Nick stepped in the front door to Cassie’s house. They each carried a brown bag from the grocery store filled with ice cream and potato chips and assorted other goodies to fuel their night’s work translating the spell. Then Cassie heard a crunching beneath her shoes.
“Shattered glass,” Nick said. “Could only mean one thing.”
They both dropped their bags on the floor and then noticed the path of overturned chairs leading to Cassie’s mother. She was tied to the one chair upright in the kitchen, gagged and unable to speak.