The Hunt (10 page)

In spite of all the heartbreak her mother had endured, Cassie could see she truly believed those words. But her mother had ended up alone after all. And Scarlett's mother had ended up dead. Cassie wasn't sure if her mother's indestructible faith inspired her or filled her with sadness.

“So don't you worry,” her mother said. “You just focus on figuring out what to do with your father's book—figure out how to break that spell so you can open it safely, without getting burned. The rest will all fall into place.”

Cassie felt a twinge of guilt for not telling her mother that she'd already been studying the book. But she couldn't
bring herself to confess. There still had to be some secrets, even between them.

Her mom was right about one thing, though: The book was the only thing capable of getting Cassie out of this mess.

Cassie arrived at the beach for the full moon ceremony just as
Diana was drawing a circle in the sand with her pearl-handled knife. It was already five minutes to midnight, when the moon would be at its highest point, so she had to hurry.

Diana went around the circle with water she'd collected from the ocean, then with a stick of calamus-scented incense, and finally with a lighted white candle. Pungent, smoky smells filled the air.

“Cassie,” Adam called out when he spotted her. “Where've you been? I've been calling you.”

“I'm sorry. I know.” Cassie continued watching Diana.
“I was helping my mom clean up after dinner and I lost track of time.”

“Uh-oh,” Faye said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Don't you two know good communication is the foundation of a healthy relationship?”

“Actually,” Suzan said, “I'm pretty sure it's trust.”

Faye smirked. “No, that can't be it.”

Adam was not amused by their banter. “I had something important to tell you.” He made an effort to pull Cassie aside. “That's why I kept calling.”

“You guys! It's almost midnight, come on!” Diana held a lit candle in one hand and reached out to grab Cassie with the other. But she clutched Cassie's pointer and index fingers just where her most recent burns had scabbed over. Cassie cried out softly in pain.

Diana looked at her, confused. “Are you okay?”

Cassie stretched the sleeves of her shirt down over her hands.

“Did I hurt you?” Diana asked.

Faye and the others gathered around Cassie. “Lift up your sleeves,” Faye commanded.

After a glance at Adam, Cassie did as she was told.

Immediately, everyone's eyes settled on the scars and scabs she'd been working so hard to keep hidden.
Cassie looked around and realized the time had come for her to tell them about her father's book. There was no other way of explaining the burns, and Cassie didn't want to outright lie to her Circle—they didn't deserve that.

With an encouraging nod from Adam, and with the group's rapt attention, Cassie made a clear, concise announcement: “I have Black John's Book of Shadows,” she said. “It's what gave me these scars.”

“You found—you mean—are you serious?” Diana sputtered.

Cassie nodded. “I've been searching it for any hint on how to defeat the hunters or Scarlett. But it's dangerous,” Cassie continued, holding up her hands as an example. “You have to understand, I don't want anyone else to get hurt, not until I know it can help us.”

Faye leaned on Sean to keep from falling over. “Black John's book has been in your house this whole time? And you kept it from me?” She was practically hyperventilating. “I can't even imagine the spells that must be in there. Go get it, Cassie. Right now.”

Cassie shook her head. “I can't read it, and neither can you. It's written in an ancient language. And besides, we don't know what the book is capable of.”

“Actually, Cassie,” Adam interrupted, “that's why I kept calling you earlier.”

Seagulls squawked in circles overhead as Adam regarded the group, a gloomy look on his face. “Cassie showed me a portion of the book yesterday, and I was up all night trying to translate it. I compared some of the symbols in the book to the ancient map I used to locate the Master Tools.”

Diana nodded, knowing that map well. “I remember those inscriptions,” she said. “Black John had written them himself.”

Adam fixed his eyes on Cassie again. His voice was a stricken monotone. “From the little bits and pieces I could figure out, Cassie is now bound to Black John's book.”

For a few seconds Cassie lost her hearing. The hammering thump of her heartbeat was the only sound in her ears. She could see everyone's reactions—Diana's terror, Faye's apprehension, Adam's distress—but she felt like she was watching them from somewhere hushed and far away. It was gruesome, the way the faces of her friends altered. Not one of them would ever think of Cassie the same way again.

“Are you sure?” Diana asked. Her voice hit Cassie's ears with a
pop
.

“
Bound
was definitely the word I translated,” Adam said. “And any dark magic involving that word can't be good.”

Diana took a deep breath. “No. Not good at all.”

“What exactly does this mean?” Suzan asked.

“In the scientific sense,” Laurel said, “being bound simply means being held to another element. It's a union, physical or chemical. And it's inseparable.”

Melanie cut in to clarify. “Simply put, it means Cassie's obligated to the book. As in
tied in bonds
. Like a prisoner.”

“Melanie.” Diana chastised her with a glare. “It's an attachment. That's all. Don't jump to worst-case scenarios.”

Cassie wanted the group to believe Diana was right: that being bound to the book only meant she was attached to it, nothing more. But Cassie couldn't deny what she knew to be the truth: The book did have an influence over her. Every time she touched it, it was like darkness took her over. She was beginning to feel like she had a split personality.

Cassie began to cry, and Adam walked slowly over to her. He put his arm around her torso. “Cassie, I'm sorry you're going through all this. But the Circle can help you now. You're not in this alone.”

“That's right.” Diana took a step closer and also put her arm around Cassie. “We can all look into those symbols and help with the translation.”

“You can copy a few pages at a time for us to study,” Adam said. “Using the obsidian crystal, so you're as safe as possible.”

There were supportive nods around the Circle, except from Faye who crossed her arms over her chest. “Just to be clear,” she said. “We are talking about Cassie being undeniably linked to dark magic, right? That's what Black John's book is, and that's what Cassie's bound to.”

A heartrending stillness settled over the group like a heavy quilt. There was absolute silence except for the roar and crashing of waves in the distance.

Adam nodded grimly. “Like Scarlett, Cassie does have dark magic in her blood, and the book is obviously reacting to that.” He turned to Cassie and swallowed hard. “In fact, as someone who knows dark magic so well, Scarlett might be able to tell us something useful about the book. Maybe she can help.”

Cassie stared down at the sand, unable to speak.

“Adam,” Nick shouted. “You do remember that Scarlett is out to kill your girlfriend, right?”

Faye raised an eyebrow. “Trading off Princess Cassie
for Evil Witch Scarlett? That sounds like a great suggestion to me.”

“And while we're at it, we can get the Master Tools back,” Deborah said.

“That's not what I meant.” Adam shot Cassie a desperate look. “I just meant we could confront her. Maybe even bargain with her.”

“No way,” Nick said. “If we find Scarlett, we're taking her down, not asking her for advice.”

Cassie forced down the bile that had risen in her throat. She staggered back to the center of the group and everyone got quiet again, their faces turned toward her expectantly.

“It's not a bad idea to try to get information out of Scarlett.” She looked at Adam with a strained smile, though she was beginning to wonder if he had feelings for Scarlett he wasn't admitting—even to himself. “But we're dealing with two evils here, and at least the book can't fight back.” And with that, Cassie had the final word.

Cassie was nodding off in eighth-period math to the drone of
Mr. Zitofsky explaining the quadratic equation when she heard the unmistakable buzz of her phone vibrating in her bag. It was a text message from Diana:

COME TO THE BAND ROOM. NOW. EMERGENCY MEETING.

Cassie looked across the room at Melanie, who had clearly gotten the same text message. They exchanged a worried glace as Melanie started gathering her things. The Circle had spent the last week translating Black John's book in bits and pieces from the pages Cassie had copied; maybe someone had stumbled onto something important.
Cassie preferred that theory to the alternative: that something terrible had happened.

But how would Cassie and Melanie escape from the classroom now without drawing suspicion?

As if someone had read her mind, the fire alarm went off. Mr. Zitofsky took off his glasses and rose from his seat. “Okay, everyone,” he said. “You know the drill. Up and out, single file.”

Another text, this time from Nick, confirmed Cassie's suspicions:

FALSE ALARM. YOU'RE WELCOME. BAND ROOM, NOW.

Cassie fought the urge to grin as she and Melanie followed her classmates, soldierlike, out the door. The crowded hallways teeming with students striding toward the emergency exits made sneaking away to the band room easy. They let themselves in just as Chris asked, “What are we doing in here?” Then he picked up a French horn and blew into it with all his might.

“It was the only empty room we could find that also happens to be soundproofed,” Deborah said. And then she looked at Cassie. “Glad you could make it.”

Everyone from the Circle except Adam was already gathered in the dimly lit room the band kids called the
Pit. But only Chris and Doug fiddled with the assorted brass instruments strewn about.

Adam stepped in the door and Nick said, “That's everyone. Now what's going on?”

Chris and Doug set down their clarinets and waited, along with the rest of the group, for Diana to say something. Cassie got the sense this announcement had nothing to do with the book. Diana had been trailing Max quite a bit, spending more and more time alone with him this past week, and Cassie had an awful feeling her announcement had something to do with him.

Diana stepped to the center of the floor and stood in front of an empty music stand. “I have disheartening news,” she said.

“We're shocked,” Faye called out.

“Do we ever have emergency
good news
meetings?” Deborah added.

Diana took something out of her back pocket. “I found this today when I was going through Max's bag.”

Faye mumbled under her breath, “You've been spending enough time together, it's about time you found something useful on him.”

“Excuse me?” Diana said. “Do you have something you'd like to say to me?”

Faye shook her head. “No. Nothing. Just wondering what you found.”

Diana walked solemnly over to Suzan and Deborah. “It's a picture,” she said. “Of the two of you.”

Deborah took the photograph from Diana's hand and stared at it. Suzan looked at it over her shoulder.

Cassie watched Deborah's face turn from pink, to red, to light purple. Then she crumpled the picture in her fist and threw it violently onto the floor.

Cassie bent down to pick it up, smoothing it out to view its image. It was a photograph of Suzan and Deborah on the night of the Spring Fling. It looked like it had been taken from far away, maybe on a cell phone—it had a grainy surveillance look to it. It was from after the power had gone out, and it looked like Deborah and Suzan had used magic to light their way in the dark. But the most disturbing part was that over Suzan's and Deborah's faces, the photo was stamped with the mark of the hunter.

Cassie turned the photo around so the whole Circle could see it. “Now almost half of us are marked,” she said.

“How did this happen?” Melanie asked, examining the photograph. “This was taken the night of the dance. How did we not know about this until now?”

Suzan nodded soberly. “We knew we'd been marked.
We just … we didn't want to tell you all just yet. It was stupid of us.”

“The secret is out now.” Deborah retreated to the corner. She pounded the wall with her fist, and Cassie worried that she might have punched right through the plaster.

It
was
stupid of them—to use magic in the first place, and to not tell the Circle they'd been caught—but nobody had the heart to criticize them for their poor judgment. Not when they were facing far graver consequences.