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The Initiation (The Secret Circle #1) Page 39
Author: L.J. Smith

All Cassie was aware of was Faye's height and how much she herself wanted to run. She had a panicked conviction that Faye was going to do something awful…

But Faye simply murmured, as she stepped back, “So the little white mouse is tougher than she looks. I was betting you wouldn't even last through the ceremony.”

“I'm not sure I did,” Cassie muttered. She desperately wanted to sit down and gather her thoughts. So much had happened so fast… but she was in. Even Faye had accepted her. That fact could not be changed.

“All right,” Diana said quietly. “That's it for the initiation ritual. Normally after this we'd have a party or something, but…” She looked at Cassie and lifted her hands. Cassie nodded. Tonight, a party could hardly be less appropriate. “So I think we should formally dispel the Circle, but go on and have a regular meeting. That way we can get Cassie caught up on what she needs to know.”

There were nods around the circle and a collective breath released. Diana picked up a handful of sand and poured it over the line drawn on the beach. The others followed suit, each pouring a handful and smoothing it down so that the circle's outline was blurred, erased. Then they distributed themselves among the still-lighted candles, some sitting on the sand, others on out-thrusts of rock. Nick remained standing, a cigarette in his mouth.

Diana waited until everyone was quiet, looking at her, then she turned to Cassie. Her face was grave and

her green eyes were earnest. “Now that you're one of us,” she said simply, “I think it's time to tell you what we are.”

Cassie's breath caught. So many bizarre things had happened to her since she'd come to New Salem, and now she was about to hear the explanation. But strangely, she wasn't sure she needed to be told. Ever since they'd brought her here tonight, all sorts of things had been arranging themselves in her mind. A hundred little oddities that she'd noticed about New Salem, a hundred little mysteries that she'd been unable to solve. Somehow, her brain had begun putting them together, and now…

She looked at the faces around her, lit by moonlight and flickering candlelight.

“I think,” she said slowly, “that I already know.” Honesty compelled her to add, “Some of it, at least.”

“Oh, yes?” Faye raised her eyebrows. “Why don't you tell us, then?”

Cassie looked at Diana, who nodded. “Well, for one thing,” she said slowly, “I know you're not the Mickey Mouse Club.”

Chuckles. “You'd better believe it,” Deborah muttered. “We're not the Girl Scouts, either.”

“I know…” Cassie paused. “I know that you can light fires without matches. And that you don't use feverfew just in salads.”

Faye examined her nails, looking innocent, and Laurel smiled ruefully.

“I know that you can make things move when they're not alive.”

This time it was Faye who smiled. Deborah and Suzan exchanged smug glances, and Suzan murmured, “Sssssss…”

“I know everybody's afraid of you at school, even the adults. They're afraid of anyone who lives on Crowhaven Road.”

“They're going to be more afraid,” said Doug Henderson.

“I know you use rocks for spot remover-“

“Crystals,” murmured Diana.

”-and there's something more than tea leaves in your tea. And I know”-Cassie swallowed and then went on, deliberately-“that you can push somebody without touching them, and make them fall.”

There was a silence at this. Several people looked at Faye. Faye tilted her chin back and looked at the ocean with narrowed eyes.

“You're right,” Diana said. “You've learned a lot from just watching-and we've been a little lax with security. But I think you should hear the entire story from the beginning.”

“I'll tell it,” said Faye. And when Diana looked at her doubtfully, she added, “Why not? I like a good story. And I certainly know this one.”

“All right,” said Diana. “But could you please try to stick to the point? I know your stories, Faye.”

“Certainly,” Faye said blandly. “Now, let me see, where shall I start?” She considered a moment, head tilted, and then smiled. “Once upon a time,” she said, “there was a quaint little village called Salem. And it

was just filled with quaint little Puritans-all-American, hardworking, honest, brave, and true-“

“Faye-“

“Just like some people here we all know,” Faye said, undisturbed by the interruption. She stood, switching her glorious black mane behind her, clearly enjoying being the center of attention. The ocean, with its endlessly breaking waves, formed a perfect background as she began to pace back and forth, her black silk blouse sliding down just far enough to leave one shoulder bare.

“These Puritans were filled with pure little thoughts-most of them. A few just may have been unhappy with their boring little Puritan lives, all work, no play, dresses up to here”-she indicated her neck-“and six hours of church on Sundays…”

“Faye,” said Diana.

Faye ignored her. “And the neighbors,” she said. “All those neighbors who watched you, gossiped about you, monitored you to make sure you weren't wearing an extra button on your dress or smiling on your way to meeting. You had to be meek in those days, and keep your eyes down, and do as you were told without asking questions. If you were a girl, anyway. You weren't even allowed to play with dolls because they were things of the devil.”

Cassie, fascinated despite herself, watched Faye pacing and thought again of jungle cats. Caged ones. If Faye had lived in those days, Cassie thought, she would have been quite a handful.

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L.J. Smith's Novels
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