Cassie just nodded gratefully. She couldn't speak.
"Since Cassie's all right, we won't hurt you four," Diana said aloud, then. "But we're going to take this" - she picked up Jordan's gun, holding it as if it were a poisonous snake - "and we're going to leave you here. Your car has a few flat tires. You can walk home."
The four outsiders said nothing. Sally, still on the ground, was panting; Logan, with Nick's arm around his throat, was trembling-still; Portia remained frozen against the tree. But it was Jordan who held Cassie's attention. He was staring at Diana with eyes of pure hatred, like a cornered wild dog.
It will never stop, Cassie thought. They'll hate us even more after this. They'll do something else to us, and we'll do something to them, and it will never stop.
On impulse, she walked over to where Jordan lay sprawled on his back on the forest floor, and she held out a hand to him.
"We don't have to be enemies," she said. "Can't we just end it now?"
Jordan spat on her.
Cassie went still, too surprised to be upset. Nobody had ever spat at her before. She looked in shock at her outstretched hand, then wiped it on her jeans.
What happened next she heard later from Laurel, because she was actually looking down at the time. Nick started toward Jordan instantly, but he was hindered by having to get rid of Logan, and anyway Adam was simply faster. He moved faster than the eye could follow, grabbing Jordan by the front of the jacket and hauling him up, then knocking him down again with one lightning-quick blow to the face. Behind Cassie, the bonfire shot up in orange flames ten feet high. Jordan landed on his back, both hands clapped over his nose.
"Get up," Adam said. The flames roared and crackled, sending a shower of sparks floating into the darkness of the woods.
Nick was beside Adam now. His face was emotionless, utterly cool, the old Nick. "Naw, buddy, I think he's had enough," he drawled, taking hold of Adam's arm.
Jordan lifted one hand from his nose, and Cassie saw the blood. "She's a little liar. You'll find out," he yowled in a thick voice, looking from Cassie to Adam.
For a moment Cassie thought Adam was going to hit him again. Then Adam turned away, as if forgetting Jordan existed. He didn't seem to notice Nick's existence either. He took Cassie's hand, the one Jordan had spat on, turned it over, and kissed it.
Cassie thought that somebody had better do something fast.
"We should tie them up," Melanie said, her calm, thoughtful voice pervading the clearing. "Or three of them at least - the fourth can be untying the others while we get away."
"Not too tightly," Diana said, conceding. While Jordan, Logan, and Sally were being tied up, she stuck the white-handled knife in the ground by Portia. "You can cut them free when we leave. Don't try to follow us," she said. Portia didn't look as if she might follow; her eyes were showing white all around.
Diana followed her gaze to the fire, which was still roaring more like a burning oil well than a bonfire, and spoke softly to Cassie. "Can you tone that down a little? I think they're scared enough."
Cassie, who wasn't doing it, mumbled something inarticulate, and hastily went over to check on Sally's bonds.
Sally glanced at her out of the sides of her eyes and spoke without moving her lips. "I was wrong about you."
Cassie looked at her in surprise, but said nothing, leaning over as if to examine Sally's tied wrists.
"You may be right about Brunswick," Sally said, still in almost inaudible tones. "If you are, I feel sorry for you. He's going to do something on the ninth. There's a full moon or something - and that's when he's going to move. He wanted the tools before then."
"Thanks," Cassie whispered and she squeezed Sally's hand behind her back. Then she straightened up as Diana said, "Let's go." As they left, Cassie nudged Adam inconspicuously.
"Are you doing the fire?" she whispered.
"What? Oh." The flames fell, collapsing suddenly into a normal bonfire. "I guess so," he said.
They walked through the woods, Laurel and Deborah leading them surely among the dark trees, Raj trotting alongside. Cassie spent the entire walk thinking about Nick.
She got in the Armstrong car with him when they came to the road. He drove silently, one arm along the back of the seat. The other cars were in front of them, headlights shining on the lonely road as they made their way back to New Salem.
Cassie was trying to find the right words to say. She'd never had to do anything like this before and she was afraid to do it wrong. She was afraid to hurt Nick.
But there was no way around it. From the instant that Adam had kissed her hand she had known. Cassie could like it or hate it, but there was no way to do anything about it.
"Nick ..." she said, and choked up.
"You don't have to say anything," he said, in his old detached, nothing-hurts-me voice. Cassie could hear the pain underneath it. Then he looked at her, and his tone softened.
"I knew what I was doing when I got into this," he said. "And you never pretended anything else. It's not your fault."
He'd said she didn't have to say anything - but she did. She had to try to explain to him.
"It's not because of Adam," she said softly. "I mean, it's not for him, because I know there's no hope. I - accept that now, and I'm happy for him and Diana. But I just..."
She stopped and shook her head helplessly. "This is going to sound totally stupid, but I can't be with anybody else. Ever. I'm just going to have to . . ." She tried to think of a way to put it, but all she could come up with was a phrase out of one of her grandmother's Victorian etiquette books she'd read one rainy afternoon.