Secret Circle - The Captive Part 16

Nick was Ca.s.sie's date, but in that first moment all she could see was Adam. He was amazing. The branched ends of stag antlers sprouted from a crown of oak leaves on his head, and he was wearing a mask of oak leaves and acorns.

"He's Herne, the horned G.o.d," Melanie said. "Sort of like Pan, you know, a nature G.o.d. He's G.o.d of animals, too-that's why he gets to take Raj with him."

Raj was there, trying to thrust his nose forward to give Ca.s.sie one of his embarra.s.singly warm greetings. Adam-or Herne; it unnerved Ca.s.sie how natural he looked with the horns and the oak leaves-held the dog back.

The other girls were laughing at the guys' costumes. "Sean," Laurel said, "you're skinny enough without showing all your bones." He was dressed as a skeleton.

Chris and Doug had strange symbols painted on their faces: black and red triangles, yellow lightning bolts. Their long hair was even more disheveled than usual. "We're Zax," they said, and everyone said, "Who?"

Chris answered: "Zax the magician. He pulls cigarettes out of the air."

"It's from some science-fiction show they saw once," Suzan explained finally.

Faye's slow, lazy voice broke in. "And just what are you supposed to be, Nick? The Man in Black?"

Ca.s.sie looked at Nick for the first time. He wasn't wearing a costume, just black jeans and a black pullover sweater. He looked very handsome, very cool.

"I'm supposed to be her date," he said calmly, and without another look at Faye he held out his hand to Ca.s.sie.

Faye can't mind, Ca.s.sie told herself as they walked to the line of cars outside. Faye doesn't want him anymore; she shouldn't care who he goes with. But there was a thin coil of uneasiness in her stomach as she let Nick guide her to the Armstrong car. Deborah and Laurel got in the back.

On the porches around them, jack-o'-lanterns had fiery grins and dancing flames for eyes. It was a crystal moonlit night.

"A haunted night," Laurel said from the backseat. "Tonight spirits gather at all the windows and doors, looking in. We always put a white candle in the window to guide them."

"Or a plate of food to feed them, so they don't try to come inside," Deborah said in a hollow voice.

Ca.s.sie laughed, but there was a slightly false note in the laughter. She didn't want spirits looking in her windows. And as for what Laurel had said two weeks ago, about dead relatives coming back to visit the living-well, Ca.s.sie didn't want that, either. She didn't know any of her dead relatives, except her father, and he probably wasn't really dead. No, on the whole, she'd rather just leave all dead people alone.

But the Circle was planning to do just the opposite tonight.

The gym was decorated with owls, bats, and witches flying across giant yellow moons. Black and orange crepe paper was wound around the girders and streamed from the basketball hoops. There were dancing skeletons, spitting cats with arched backs, and surprised-looking ghosts on the walls.

It was all so fun and harmless. The ordinary students who'd come to dance and masquerade and drink purple poison punch had no idea of the real darkness that lurked outside. Even the ones who hated the Club didn't know the full truth.

Diana and Adam arrived together, making what must have been the most impressive entrance New Salem High School had ever seen. Diana, in her simple white s.h.i.+ft, with her bare throat and arms looking as fresh as baby's skin, and her aureole of s.h.i.+ning hair falling down her back, looked like a shaft of moonlight that had somehow wandered accidentally into the gym.

And Adam-Adam always had a presence, a way of innately commanding respect from anyone smart enough really to look at him. Tonight, as Herne, he was more arresting than ever. He seemed to be the forest G.o.d, perilous and mischievous, awe-inspiring but not unkind. Above all, he looked wild. There was nothing domesticated about him; he belonged in the open s.p.a.ces, running underneath the stars. Raj stayed beside him, looking more like a wolf than a dog, and none of the chaperons said a word of objection.

"You know what happens tonight," a voice murmured, breath warm on Ca.s.sie's neck.

Ca.s.sie said, "What, Faye?" without turning around.

"Well, the coven leaders who represent the G.o.ddess Diana and the horned G.o.d have to make an alliance. They have to . . ." Faye paused delicately. ". . . merge, shall we say? To represent the union of male and female princ.i.p.als."

"You mean they . . . ?"

"It can be done symbolically," Faye said blandly. "But somehow I don't think Adam and Diana will be satisfied with symbolism, do you?"

TWELVE.

Ca.s.sie stood petrified. Her heart was going like a trip-hammer, but that was the only part of her capable

of motion.Adam and Diana . . . they couldn't. Only, of course, they could. Diana was laughing up at Adam now,tossing her straight, s.h.i.+ning hair back. And although Ca.s.sie couldn't see Adam's eyes behind the mask,his lips were smiling.

Ca.s.sie turned, almost blundering into Nick, who was bringing her some punch, and rushed off into the

dimness.

She found a dark corner under a Chinese lantern that had gone out. s.h.i.+elded by a curtain of black and orange streamers, she stood there, trying to get hold of herself, trying not to see the pictures her mind was showing her.

The next thing she knew, she could smell wood smoke and ocean breeze, along with a faint, indefinable

scent of animal and oak leaves. Adam.

"Ca.s.sie," he said. Just that, as if Herne were calling her in her dreams, inviting her to throw off the covers in the middle of the night and come dancing in the autumn leaves.

And then, in a more ordinary voice, he said quietly, "Ca.s.sie, are you okay? Diana says-"

"What?" Ca.s.sie demanded, in a way that would have been fierce if her voice hadn't been trembling.

"She's just worried that you're not all right."

"I'm all right!" Ca.s.sie was struggling not to let the tears escape. "And anyway-I'm tired of people talking

about me behind my back. Faye says, Diana says-I'm tired of it."He took both her cold hands in his. "I think," he said in a subdued voice, "that you're just tired, period."I am, Ca.s.sie thought. I'm tired of having secrets. And I'm tired of fighting. If I'm already evil, what's the point of fighting?

Just at the moment, to think was to act.

Before she knew what she was doing, her hands had turned inside Adam's, so that her fingers were

clasping his. Not by 'word or look or deed, what a laugh, she thought. We've already broken it a thousand times. Why not really break it? That way at least she would have something concrete to feel bad about. That way Diana wouldn't have him first.

That was the crux of it. Diana might have everything else, but she wouldn't have Adam first.

I could do it, Ca.s.sie thought. Suddenly, her mind was working coolly and rationally, far removed from all the twisted pain in her chest. Adam was vulnerable to her because he was honorable, because he would never dream of her scheming to get him.

If she started to cry right now ... If she got him close enough to hold her, then relaxed against him, making herself soft in his arms . . . If she laid her head on his shoulder so that he could smell her hair ... If she sighed and let her head fall back . . . would he be able to resist kissing her?

Ca.s.sie didn't think so.

There were places darker than this corner. Safe places in the school. The home-ec room with the lock anyone could pick, the storage compartment where the gymnastics mats were kept. If Adam kissed her and she kissed him back, could anything stop them from going there?

Ca.s.sie didn't think so.

And Diana, sweet stupid innocent Diana, would never know the difference. If Adam said he'd had to take Ca.s.sie for a walk to calm her down, Diana would believe him.

No, there was nothing to stop Ca.s.sie and Adam . . . except the oath. How did it go again? Fire burn me, air smother me, earth swallow me, water cover my grave. Ca.s.sie wasn't afraid of that. Fire was burning her body already, and air was smothering her-she couldn't breathe. There was nothing to stop her. She leaned in closer to Adam, head drooping like a flower on a slender stem, feeling the first easy tears come. She heard the catch in her breath, and felt his fingers tighten on hers in concern, and awareness.

"Ca.s.sie-G.o.d . . ." he whispered.

A fierce rush of triumph swept through Ca.s.sie. He couldn't help himself. It was going to happen. Oak and holly, leaf and briar/ Touch him with the secret fire . . .

What was she doing?

Using magic on Adam? Snaring him with words that had come from some deep well of knowledge within herself? It was wrong, dishonorable, and not just because members of the Club didn't work spells on each other unasked.

It was wrong because of Diana.

Diana, who'd been Ca.s.sie's friend when no one else would speak to her. Who'd championed her against Faye and the whole school. Even if Ca.s.sie couldn't deal with being close to Diana right now, the memory of Diana was like a star s.h.i.+ning in her mind. If she betrayed that, she betrayed everything that meant anything.

Evil or not, Ca.s.sie couldn't do it.

She extracted her hands from Adam's strong fingers.

"I'm all right," she said, her voice soft and weak, all its bones crushed.

He was trying to get hold of her hands again. That was the problem with magic, you couldn't always stop what you'd started. "Adam, really," she said. Then, desperately, she added, "Diana's waiting."

Saying Diana's name helped. He stood for a moment, then escorted her back, Herne bringing a wayward nymph home to the Circle. Ca.s.sie went over to Laurel for safety; Nick was nowhere in sight. Well, she didn't blame him.

Diana was talking to Sally Waltman, who was there and looking hard as nails, despite the loss of Jeffrey. That left Adam and Ca.s.sie with Laurel and Melanie and their dates, and Sean and Deborah. A merry group of witches. Next to them was a group of outsiders.

A slow dance was starting. The group of outsiders broke up, moving onto the dance floor. All except one.

That one remained standing there, isolated, on the fringe of the Club. She was a junior Ca.s.sie vaguely recognized from French cla.s.s, a shy girl, not beautiful, but not ugly, either. Right now she was trying to pretend that she didn't mind being abandoned, that she didn't care.

Ca.s.sie's heart went out to her. Poor girl. Once, Ca.s.sie had been just like her.

"Want to dance?" It was Adam's voice, warm and friendly- but he wasn't talking to Ca.s.sie, he was talking to the outsider girl. Her face lit up, and she went happily with him out onto the floor, the scales of her mermaid costume flas.h.i.+ng and twinkling. Ca.s.sie watched them go with a pang.

But not of jealousy. Of love-and respect.

"The parfit gentil knight," Melanie said.

"What?" said Ca.s.sie.

"It's from Chaucer. We learned it in British lit cla.s.s. That's what Adam is, the perfect gentle knight," Melanie explained.

Ca.s.sie thought about this for a while. Then she turned to Sean. "Hey, skinny, want to shake your bones?" she said.

Sean's face lit up.

Well, Ca.s.sie thought as she and Sean began swaying to the music, one thing was for sure: This dance wasn't anything like the last one. With Adam, the gym had seemed a place of beauty and enchantment. Now all she saw were paper cutouts and naked pipes overhead. At least Sean-the-Day-Glo-skeleton didn't try to pull her in too close.

Afterward, other guys approached her, but Ca.s.sie made a beeline for Nick, who'd rematerialized, and hid behind him. At least this part of her plan worked-the other guys retreated. It was strange to be something everybody wanted and couldn't have. Nick didn't ask her why she'd rushed off, and she didn't ask him where he'd disappeared to.

They danced a few times. Nick didn't try to kiss her.

And then it was time to leave. After saying good-bye to their bewildered, slightly indignant dates, the members of the Club gathered at the exit, and not even the strawberry-blond G.o.ddess Aphrodite was late. Even the two identical Zaxes, their slanted blue-green eyes sparkling, were waiting outside the door. Then they all started off into the darkness. The moon had set, but the stars seemed to be on fire.

It was cold on the point of the headland. They sat on bits of the foundation of the razed house, while Deborah and Faye built a bonfire in the center. Other people were bringing provisions out of the cars. Ca.s.sie had expected everyone to be solemn, but the Circle was in a party mood, excited by the night, laughing and joking, defying the danger of what they were going to do in an hour or so. Ca.s.sie found herself enjoying the celebration, not thinking about the future. There was lots of food. Dried pumpkin seeds ("Without salt," Laurel said), pumpkin bread and gingerbread baked by Diana, boxes of chocolate- and orange-frosted doughnuts from Adam, a bowl of mixed Halloween candy provided by Suzan, soft drinks and spiced cider, and a large paper bag of Chris's that rattled.

"Nuts! Yeah! For virility!" Doug yelled to the other guys, with an uncouth gesture.

"Hazelnuts symbolize wisdom," Melanie said patiently, but the Henderson brothers just sneered.

And there were apples: winesaps, greenings, macintoshes. "Apples for love and death," Diana said.

"Especially at Halloween. Did you know they were sacred to the G.o.ddess Hera?"

"Did you know the seeds contain cyanide?" Faye added, smiling oddly. She'd been smiling oddly at Ca.s.sie ever since Ca.s.sie had emerged from behind the streamer curtain with Adam at the dance. Now,

leaning over to take a piece of gingerbread, she murmured in Ca.s.sie's ear, "What happened back there when he followed you? Did you blow your chance?"

"It isn't nice to fool around with guys who're taken," Ca.s.sie whispered tiredly, as if explaining to a

five-year-old.

Faye chuckled. "Nice? Is that what you want for your epitaph? 'Here lies Ca.s.sie. She was . . . nice'?"

Ca.s.sie turned her head away.