"Aunt Constance!" Melanie gasped.
"You heard me," the dark-haired woman said to Adam. She looked at the rest of the group. "Get out of here, all of you! I don't like that kind of joke, especially now. Haven't you made enough trouble with your meddling? Poor Alexandra in the guest room, and Maeve scarcely in the ground . . . Melanie, I want them out of the house!"
Laurel and Granny Quincey were both fluttering. "Oh dear, oh dear," Granny Quincey was saying, raising hands that looked like little bird claws, and "Oh, please, Miss Burke," Laurel was beseeching, almost in tears.
"You have no respect at all," Aunt Constance said, breathing hard. Her eyes were as bright as if she had a fever.
"Young people never do, Constance," Adam's grandmother said, chuckling. "Why, I remember when we were their age, the mischief we used to get up to ... oh, me." Still laughing and shaking her head, Adam's grandmother popped another cookie in her mouth.
"Grandma, please listen. It's not a joke," Adam began helplessly, but it was no use. There was too much noise; everyone was talking at once. Over it all Great-aunt Constance continued to order them out, telling Melanie to forget about the mess on the floor and just go. Granny Quincey was twittering and making calming gestures, which everybody ignored. Old Mrs. Franklin was smiling at them all benevolently. Diana was pleading with Melanie's aunt to listen, but to no avail.
"For the last time!" Aunt Constance cried, flapping a hand as if to shoo Diana and the Club out the door.
"Miss Burke!" Cassie yelled. She felt close to tears herself, although Nick had been quietly trying to escort her out since the shouting had started. Cassie didn't want to go; she thought she understood what Great-aunt Constance was talking about when she mentioned the kids' meddling. "Miss Burke," she repeated, forcing her way forward again. She found herself directly in front of Great-aunt Constance.
"I'm sorry," Cassie said, and it was suddenly quiet enough that she could hear the unsteadiness in her own voice. "It's my mom that's in your guest room, and you know how grateful I am that you're taking care of her. And it's my grandmother that's in the ground. But who do you think did that to them? It wasn't the Club. My grandmother told me before she died that he had planned all along to come back, and that she always knew he would manage to do it. It's true that it's partly the Circle's fault he's back - it's partly my fault. And we're sorry, more sorry than you can know. But he really is here." She paused a moment, then added in almost a whisper, "Really."
Aunt Constance was breathing very quickly through her nose. She drew herself up more regally than ever, her lips a thin red slash across her face.
"I'm afraid I can't believe any of what you're saying. It is simply im-impossible - " The woman's expression changed, twisting in pain. She gave a gasp and clutched at her chest.
"Aunt Constance," Melanie cried, rushing to her. It took both her and Adam to help the rigid woman to a chair.
"Should I call a doctor?" Diana asked.
"No!" Aunt Constance said, lifting her head. "It's nothing. I'm all right now."
"It's not nothing, Constance," a quavery voice said, and Cassie saw Granny Quincey getting off the sofa to come stand beside the chair. "It's your heart telling you the truth. I think we'd better listen to these children."
There was a silence while Melanie's aunt looked at Melanie, then at Adam, then at Cassie. Cassie forced herself to return the piercing gaze.
Aunt Constance's eyes shut and she slowly leaned back in the chair.
"You're right," she said, without looking at anyone. "Come in, all of you, and find somewhere to sit down. Then you can tell your story."
"So finally we decided we'd better talk to you three, since you were the ones who might remember him from the last time," Diana said. "We thought of asking our parents, too - "
"Don't go to your parents," Aunt Constance said flatly. She had sat and listened to the whole tale, her expression getting grimmer and grimmer. An aura of bleak horror hung in the room. "They wouldn't understand," she said, and her gaze settled on Cassie emptily, making Cassie think of her mother's blank eyes. "They won't remember. Dear God, how I've wished that I could forget too ..."
"What's past is past," Granny Quincey said.
"Yes," said Great-aunt Constance. She straightened. "But I don't know how you think three old women are going to help you - against him."
"We thought that you might remember something about him, some weakness; something we can use to fight him," Adam said.
Aunt Constance slowly shook her head. Granny Quincey was frowning, her face pursed into hundreds of wrinkles. Old Mrs. Franklin wore a very pleasant expression; Cassie couldn't tell if she'd been following the story or not.
"If he can come back from the dead, he can't have many weaknesses," Aunt Constance whispered harshly. "And he was always clever at manipulating. You say that Faye Chamberlain is on his side?"
"We're afraid so," Adam said.
"That's bad. He'll use her to get at you, at your weaknesses. Lure her away from him if you can. But how?" Aunt Constance's brow lined in concentration. "The hematite - take that from her. It's very dangerous; he can use it to influence her mind." Diana glanced at Cassie, as if to say, I told you. Aunt Constance was going on. "And you say the skull is gone now? Are you sure?"
"It's gone," Adam said.
"It looked like it exploded when Faye was holding it, just before we were all knocked out," Cassie said. "Something exploded out of it, anyway. And we couldn't find a trace of it afterward."
"Well . . . there's no way to use that against him, then. And you, Cassie, you haven't found anything in your grandmother's Book to help you?"
"Not yet. I haven't gotten all the way through it, though," Cassie admitted.
Aunt Constance was shaking her head. "Power, you need power to use against him. You're all too young to fight him - and we're too old. And in between our ages are nothing but fools. There's no power strong enough around here.. ."
"There was once," Granny Quincey said in her reedy voice.
Aunt Constance looked at her, and her expression changed. "Once . . . yes, of course." She turned to the Circle. "If the old stories are true, there once was a power strong enough to destroy Black John."
"What power?" Laurel asked.
Aunt Constance countered with a question. "How did Adam happen to find the skull, exactly?"
"It wasn't an accident," Diana said. "He was out looking for the Master Tools . . ." She stopped. "The Master Tools," she whispered.
"Yes. The ones that belonged to the original coven, the real Salem witches. Our ancestors who founded New Salem after the witch hunters drove them out of Salem Village."
Cassie was speaking out loud before she" thought. "But just what were the Master Tools, exactly?"
It was Granny Quincey who answered. "The symbols of the witch leader, of course. The diadem, the bracelet, and the garter."
"The ones we use are just imitations," Melanie said. "They are just symbols. The original coven's were very powerful; real tools to be used.
But, Aunt Constance" - she turned back to her aunt - "it was Black John who hid the Master Tools. Adam's been looking for them for years, from here to Cape Cod. How can we find them now?"
"I don't know," the woman said. "But you've got one thing wrong there. Black John didn't hide them, the original coven did. They hid the tools from him, so he wouldn't be able to use them. They knew that with the power of the skull and the tools together, he would be invincible. That's what my grandmother told me, anyway."
"They wouldn't have taken the tools far to hide," Granny Quincey added. "That's just sense. Black John was a traveler, but our ancestors weren't. They were peaceable, home-loving people."
"You came for our advice - well, that's mine," Aunt Constance said. "Find the Master Tools. If you all stand together, using those, you may have a chance against him." Her lips were a thin line again.
"All right," Adam said slowly. "We understand."
Cassie let her breath out, trying not to feel disappointed. It was good advice, but she'd hoped - for what? For her own grandmother, she supposed. She wanted her grandmother, who had been so wise, and had somehow always made Cassie feel as if she were stronger than she'd thought.
"And keep reading that book your grandma gave you!" Granny Quincey said suddenly, looking right at Cassie. Cassie nodded and the old woman gave her a wrinkled but oddly intense smile.
Mrs. Franklin was smiling too, patting her knees and looking around as if she'd forgotten something.
"What's tomorrow?" she said.
There was a pause. Cassie wasn't sure if Adam's grandmother was speaking to them or to herself. But then she repeated, "What's tomorrow?" looking at them encouragingly.
"Uh - our birthday," Chris offered.
But Diana looked startled. "I think - I think it's the night of Hecate," she said. "Is that what you mean?"
"That's right," old Mrs. Franklin said comfortably. "Oh, when I was young, we would have done a ceremony. I remember ceremonies under the moon, when there were Indians in the shadows.. ."
Glances were exchanged. Mrs. Franklin couldn't possibly remember that; there hadn't been Indians around here for centuries.
But Diana was getting excited. "You think we should have a ceremony?"
"I would, dear," Mrs. Franklin said. "A girls' ceremony. We girls always had our secrets, didn't we, Connie? And we stuck together."
Diana looked a little puzzled, then nodded slowly, determinedly. "Yes. Yes. It would be good for the girls to get together - all the girls. And I think I know what kind of ceremony to have. It's not the right time of year, but that doesn't matter."
"I know you'll enjoy it, dear," Mrs. Franklin said. "Now let me see - Cassie!"
Cassie looked at her, startled.