Ever since her initiation, Cassie had been so happy to be a part of this group. She'd relied on different members of it at different times, crying on Diana and clinging to Nick and Adam when she needed them. But now there was something she had to do, and not even Nick or Adam could help her with it. Not even Diana could go with her.
"I have to go alone," she said.
She figured out that she'd said it aloud when she saw them all staring at her. The next instant they were all protesting.
"Don't be crazy, Cassie. That's his territory; you can't go in there," Deborah said.
"Anything could happen. Let him come out," Nick told her.
"It's too dangerous. We won't let you go by yourself," Adam said flatly.
Cassie looked at him reproachfully, because he was the one who'd said that being coven leader might not be good for her; and he was right, so he was the one who should understand now. Of course this was dangerous, but she had to do it. Black John - John Blake - Jack Brunswick, whatever you wanted to call him - had summoned her here, and he was waiting for her inside. And Cassie had to go.
"If you didn't want to listen to me you shouldn't have elected me leader," she said. "But I'm telling you now, that's what he wants. He isn't coming out. He wants me to go in."
"But you don't have to," Chris said, almost pleading.
Of them all, only Diana was silent. She stood, mouth trembling, tears hanging on her lashes. It was to her that Cassie spoke. "Yes, I do," she said.
And Diana, who understood about being a leader, nodded.
Cassie turned away before she could see Diana cry. "You stay here," she said to all of them, "until I come out. I'll be all right; I've got the Master Tools, remember?" Then she started walking toward the house. The nails in the heavy timber door were set in a pattern of swirls and diamonds. They seemed to glow redder than the wood around them. Cassie touched the iron door-handle hesitantly, but it was cool and solid to her fingers. The door swung open before her and she went inside. Everything here was slightly misty, like a red hologram, but it felt real enough. The kitchen was much like her grandmother's kitchen and it was empty. The parlor next door was the same. A flight of narrow, winding stairs rose from the back corner of the parlor.
Cassie climbed the steps, noting with a strange amusement the incongruity of the tin lantern hanging on the wall. It was giving off a cold, eerie red light, barely brighter than the house itself. The stairs were steep and her heart was pounding when she reached the top.
The first small bedroom was empty. So was the second. That left only the large room over the kitchen.
Cassie walked toward it without faltering. On the threshold she saw that the red glow in here was brighter, like the surface of the shadowed moon.
She went in.
He was inside, standing so tall that his head almost touched the uneven ceiling. He was giving off a light of pure evil. His face was triumphant and cruel, and inside, Cassie thought she could see the outlines of the skull.
Cassie stopped and looked at him.
"Father," she said, "I've come."
"With your coven," Black John said. "I'm proud of you." He extended a hand to her, which she ignored.
"You brought them here very nicely," he went on. "I'm glad they had the sense to acclaim you as leader."
"It's only temporary," Cassie said.
Black John smiled. His eyes were on the Master Tools. "You wear them well," he said.
Cassie felt a slow writhe of panic in her stomach. Everything was going according to his plan, she could see that. She was here, with the tools he'd wanted for so long, on his territory, in his house. And she was afraid of him.
"There's no need to be frightened, Cassandra," he said. "I don't want to hurt you. We don't need to quarrel. We have the same purpose: to unify the coven."
"We don't have the same purpose."
"You are my daughter."
"I'm no part of you!" Cassie cried. He was playing on her emotions, looking for her weaknesses. And every minute the hurricane was getting closer to land. Cassie sought desperately for a distraction, and she glimpsed something behind the tall man.
"Faye," she said. "I didn't see you there, standing in his shadow."
Faye stepped forward indignantly. She was wearing the black silk shift, like a negative image of Cassie's, and her own diadem, bracelet, and garter. She lifted her head proudly and gazed at Cassie with smoldering golden eyes.
"My two queens," Black John said fondly. "Dark and bright. Together, you will rule the coven - "
"And you'll rule us?" Cassie asked sharply. Black John smiled again. "It's a wise woman who knows when to be ruled by a man."
Faye wasn't smiling. Cassie looked at her sideways.
Black John didn't appear to notice. "Do you want me to stop the hurricane?" he asked Cassie.
"Yes. Of course." This was what she'd come for, to hear his terms. And to try and find his weak point. Cassie waited.
"Then all you have to do is swear an oath. A blood oath, Cassandra; you're familiar with those." He held a hand out to Faye without looking at her. Faye stared at the hand for an instant, then reached down to pull a dagger out of her garter. The black-handled knife used for casting circles on the ground. Black John held it up, then he cut his own palm. Blood welled out sluggishly, dark red.
Like Adam, Cassie thought wildly, her heart accelerating. Like the oath Adam and I swore.
The tall man held the dagger toward Cassie. When she made no move to step forward and take it, he held it toward Faye. "Give it to her," he said.