But there was something beautiful, too. Over the vast gray curve of ocean, an almost half-full moon hung. It cast a long wavering trail of light along the water, pure silver on the darkness.
"It looks like a road," Cassie said softly, through chattering teeth. "Like you could ride on it."
She looked at Deborah quickly, not sure how the biker girl would take to such a fancy. But Deborah gave a short nod, her narrowed eyes still on the silver path.
"That would be the ultimate. Just ride till you fly straight off the edge. I guess that was what the old-time witches wanted," she said.
Cassie felt a warmth even through her shivering. Deborah felt what she herself had felt. And now Cassie understood why Deborah rode a motorcycle.
"We better go," Deborah said abruptly.
On the way back to the motorcycle Cassie stumbled, falling to one knee. She looked back and saw that she had tripped on a piece of brick or stone.
"I forgot to tell you; there used to be a house here," Deborah said. "It got torn down a long time ago, but there're some pieces of foundation left."
"I think I just found one," Cassie said.
Rubbing her knee, she was starting to get up when she noticed something beside the brick. It was darker than the soil it was resting on and yet it shone faintly in the moonlight.
She picked it up and found that it was smooth and surprisingly heavy. And it did shine; it reflected the moonlight like a black mirror.
"It's hematite," said Deborah, who'd come back to look. "It's a powerful stone-for iron-strength, Melanie says." She knelt down suddenly beside Cassie, tossing tangled hair out of her eyes. "Cassie! It's your working crystal."
A thrill which seemed to come from the stone rippled through Cassie. Holding the smooth piece of hematite was like holding an ice cube, but all the things that Melanie had said would happen when she found her own personal crystal were happening now. It fit her hand, it felt natural there. She liked the weight of it. It was hers.
Elated, she lifted her head to smile up at Deborah, and in the chilly moonlight Deborah smiled fiercely back.
It was when she was dropping Cassie off at Number Twelve that she said, "I heard you came to see Nick yesterday."
"Oh-um," Cassie said. That meeting with Nick in the garage seemed like centuries ago, not yesterday. "Uh, I didn't come to see him," she stammered. "I was just walking by..."
Deborah shrugged. "Anyway, I thought I'd tell you-he gets in bad moods sometimes. But that doesn't mean you should give up. Other times he's okay."
Cassie floundered, completely amazed. "Uh-well-I didn't mean-I mean, thanks, but I wasn't really..."
She couldn't find a way to finish, and Deborah wasn't waiting anyway. "Whatever. See you later. And don't lose that stone!" Dark hair flying, the biker girl zoomed off.
Up in her room, Cassie's legs felt weak from tension, and she was tired. But she lay in bed for a while and held the hematite on her palm, tilting it back and forth to watch the light slide over it. For iron-strength, she thought.
It wasn't like the chalcedony rose; it gave her no feeling of warmth and comfort. But then the chalcedony rose was all mixed up in her mind with Adam and his blue-gray eyes. Diana had the rose now, and Diana had Adam.
And Cassie had a stone which brought a strange coolness to her thoughts, a coolness that seemed to extend to her heart. For iron-strength, she thought again. She liked that.
"And so that's what Cassie believes, that each of the deaths-even Kori's-is connected to the skull, and to Puritan ways of killing people," Diana said. She looked around the circle of faces. "Now it's up to us to do something about it."
Cassie was watching Faye. She wanted to see the reaction in those hooded golden eyes when Diana explained about the dark energy that had escaped during the skull ceremony, killing Jeffrey. Sure enough, when Diana got to that part, Faye shot a glance at Cassie, but there was nothing apologetic or guilty about it. It was a look of conspiracy. Only you and I know, it said. And I won't tell if you won't.
I'm not that stupid, Cassie telegraphed back angrily, and Faye smiled.
It was Sunday night and they were all sitting on the beach. Diana hadn't been able to find out much from her own Book of Shadows about dealing with evil objects like the skull, and she was calling for everyone's help.
It was the first full meeting of the Circle in three weeks, since the day after Mr. Fogle had been found dead. Cassie scanned the faces above thick jackets and sweaters-even New Englanders had to bundle up in this weather- and wondered what was going on in each individual witch's head.
Melanie was grave and thoughtful as usual, as if she neither believed nor disbelieved Cassie's theory, but was willing to test it out scientifically. Laurel just looked appalled. Suzan was examining the stitching on her gloves. Deborah was scowling, unwilling to give up the idea that outsiders had killed Kori. Nick-well, who could tell what Nick thought? Sean was chewing his fingernails.
The Henderson brothers were agitated. For a terrible instant Cassie thought they were going to turn their energy on Adam, blame him for Kori's being killed. But then Doug spoke up.
"So how come we're still sittin' around talking? Let me have the skull-I'll take care of it," he said, teeth bared.
"Yeah-let Doug have it," Sean chimed in.
"It can't be destroyed, Doug," Melanie said patiently.
"Oh, yeah?" Chris said. "Put it in with a pipe bomb-"
"And nothing would happen. Crystal skulls can't be destroyed, Doug," Melanie repeated. "That's in all the old lore. You wouldn't even scratch it."