"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.. ."