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.
"Cassie," Adam's grandmother said again. Her head was on one side, and she was sighing, the way you do when somebody shows you a picture of smiling baby. "Dear me, you are a pretty little thing, though you don't look at all like your mother. Still - " She broke off suddenly and looked around. "Hm?"
Great-aunt Constance was looking more severe than ever, her snapping eyes right on Mrs. Franklin. "Edith," she said, in a flat voice.
Mrs. Franklin looked at Granny Quincey, who was also staring at her with great concentration.
"Why - I was only going to say I could see a bit of her mother in her expression," she said, and nodded at Cassie pleasantly. "You try not to worry so much, dear. It'll all come right in the end."
Aunt Constance relaxed almost imperceptibly. "Yes. That's all, Melanie; you'd better take your friends away."
And that was that. The eleven of them got up and said thank you and good-bye politely, and then they were outside the big white house in the thin November sunlight.
"Whew!" said Cassie. "Adam, do you know what was going on there at the end?"
"Sorry," Adam said, grimacing. "She gets like that sometimes."
"It wasn't her so much as the other two," Cassie began, but Deborah broke in, impatient.
"So what's this night of Hecate thing?"
"It's the night of the crone," Diana said. "That's what Hecate stands for."
"The crone?" Suzan echoed in distaste, and Cassie knew what she meant. The word conjured up an unpleasant image - a stooped, wrinkled figure holding up a poisoned apple.
"Yes." Diana looked at Cassie. "It's not a bad thing, Cassie. Crone just means old woman - it's the last stage in a woman's life. Maiden, mother, then crone. Crones are wise and - well, tough. Not physically, maybe, but mentally. They've seen a lot; they've been through it, and they know things. They're the ones who pass things on to us."
"Like my grandmother," Cassie said, understanding dawning. Of course - that stooped, wrinkled figure was the very picture of her grandmother. Not a poisoned apple, then, she thought. If her grandmother offered anything to anybody, it was help. "Fairy tales give us the wrong idea," she said.
"Right." Diana nodded firmly. "When I'm old I hope I'm a crone like your grandmother."
"Whatever you want," Doug said, rolling his eyes.
"They're all trying to help," Melanie said. "Even Aunt Constance. But what are we going to do for the night of Hecate, Diana?"
"It's a night for fortune-telling and prophecies," Diana said, "and we have to find a crossroads where we can celebrate it. Hecate was the Greek goddess of crossroads - they're supposed to symbolize transformation. Starting on a new passage of life. It could be old age, or death, or some other kind of change."
"I think we're all at a crossroads," Melanie said soberly.
"I do too." Diana looked at Adam. "I think your grandmother was right; this is something we girls should do. But that'll leave you guys alone ..."
Adam grinned. "Oh, I guess we could manage to amuse ourselves for one night without you. Maybe Chris and Doug have some ideas." He spoke easily; Cassie had noticed that all the guys in the Circle were undisturbed by the girls' rights and privileges. They didn't feel threatened; they seemed to know that they were just as important, in a different way.
"But I think you should be very careful," Nick said, without a trace of humor in his voice. Chris and Doug were punching each other, arguing about how they wanted to celebrate their birthday. When Nick spoke they shut up.
"I think you'd better find a crossroads right near here," Nick went on, speaking to Diana and Cassie. "And that we'd better not be too far away."
Cassie looked into his face, saw the concern behind the careful control in his eyes. She took his hand, felt his strong fingers interlace with hers.
"We'll be careful," she promised quietly. She saw Deborah's sharp glance at their linked hands, saw a knowing grin flash across the biker girl's face. Chris was poking Doug, who was glowering indignantly. Melanie's normally cool gray eyes were wide, and Laurel and Suzan were smiling.
Cassie couldn't help but notice that Adam was not smiling. He didn't smile again the rest of the day.
That night, Cassie had dreams. Swirling, formless dreams that seemed to have something to do with Books of Shadows. She and Diana had been up late, reading and studying. They hadn't found anything helpful. But in Cassie's dreams she felt she was on the verge of a momentous discovery.
She caught a glimpse of the sunlit room again. Just a swift bright flash that melted almost instantly into darkness. She found herself awake, staring around Diana's bedroom as if she might find it here.
"Cassie," Diana murmured. "You okay?"
"Yes," Cassie whispered. She was glad when Diana went still again. Diana was the one who'd insisted Cassie sleep with her, worried about Cassie having nightmares. But if Cassie really started disturbing Diana she couldn't let herself stay here anymore. She was enough trouble to Diana without keeping her up all night.