The Thirteenth Witch ~Chapter Twelve~

Chapter Twelve

Nick walked down the beach, kicking sand and watching the waves roll in to the shore. The others were watching TV inside, but he’d wanted to be alone. The inland breeze was cool and sharp, ruffling his dark hair. He sat down beneath a palm tree and fished in his pocket for the note. He unfolded it and stared down at it, rapidly blinking back tears. This was all he had left of her. It had taken him a while to get used to the fact that they were soulmates. He’d never really looked at her like that before, except maybe on the night of the dance. For a while, that night had been the night that changed his life. But the night he’d seen the silver cord, that had really changed his life. He’d been moping about Cassie the whole night, and the argument about love hadn’t really made him feel much better. When she’d told him about the charm, he’d thought it was a joke and figured that it wouldn’t warm up even if a lot of Power went into it, so he’d let loose just enough to warm any other crystal, to no response. He stopped, and then a flash of pain hit his palm. The crystal was burning his hand. He didn’t believe it, thought maybe that Raven had made it burn him as a joke, but then he saw the terror in her eyes. She tried to run, and suddenly he wanted to know if she was really his soulmate. He’d run after her, and when he took off her necklace he saw it. The silver cord.
He’d closed his eyes as he relived the memory, and a single tear escaped. He’d tossed her necklace into the sea so that he could talk some sense into her, but she just ran. Opening his eyes, he stared out at the waves, wondering if the necklace was still there. He shook his head. It probably wasn’t. The tide had already taken it, no doubt. But he had all the time in the world. He could go look for it. He stood up and put the note back into his pocket and headed up to the house. He went into the kitchen and searched through to cupboards to see if he could find one of the girls’ Book of Shadows. He finally came across Laurel’s and opened it quickly, pushing the cupboard door shut with his foot. He flipped through the pages, careful not to tear any, until he found what he wanted. He went through Laurel’s supply of herbs and got what he needed. She’d never miss any jojoba or lavender. He borrowed some powdered carnelian from Melanie’s boxes and set about mixing up the nasty potion. He made just enough for himself and a few extra servings, poured it into a small thermos and headed out again. He grabbed a towel as he went and strode down the beach.
As he was going, he spotted a figure down at AJ’s house. Trey gradually came into view, grinning and whistling, his brown eyes dancing. His dark golden hair was blowing in the wind. Nick was reminded of a spaniel dog, and he grinned to himself.
“What are you doing with that towel?” Trey asked.
Nick shrugged. “I’m going swimming.”
Trey stared at him in disbelief. “Armstrong, dude, it’s the middle of winter! This might be nice sunny Florida but it’s definitely too old to go swimming.”
Nick put down his towel and picked up his jacket.
“You can come if you want. I don’t care.”
Trey shook his head. “You’re not really going in, are you?”
Nick looked down at the thermos and hoped that he’d mixed it right. He was wearing several layers of clothes and they weren’t doing much against the wind. He unscrewed the cap and took a mouthful. It was awful and medicinal-tasting, but it was the same stuff the girls had brewed for his birthday. Suddenly it was burning hot. He pulled off his jacket and dropped it beside his towel. Next came the over-shirt and his T-shirt. Trey stared as Nick pulled off his jeans and stood in the icy wind in just his swimming shorts.
“Dude, you’re nuts!” he declared. Nick kicked his clothes into a pile beside his towel and shrugged. Trey eyed the thermos.
“What was that you drank?”
“It wasn’t Ovaltine,” Nick said and waded out into the waves. Trey stared. All the kids in that house were nuts. Nick vanished beneath the waves. Trey sat down beside the pile of clothes and waited.

Raven was lying on the couch in AJ’s living room. Trey had gone out for a walk. She was worried about the others in the Circle, but most of all she was terrified about what Portia and her brothers could know about her past. She fell into a troubled sleep…
Dove was curled up in a cardboard box near the dumpster in front of her house. The men wouldn’t come to get the garbage until Monday, so she had five days until she had to leave. She lay there listening to the sounds of the neighbors, waiting until they were asleep so she could leave her hiding place and go get some food. She was about to emerge when she heard the sound of a car approaching. A door swung open and two feet hit the sidewalk. Another door opened and someone else got out.
“This is where it happened, huh?” the first man said, his voice a deep baritone. Dove vaguely recognized it.
“Yeah. No one reported the fire and there were no signs of the little daughter in the ashes,” the other man said. Dove knew him. He was a cop.
“How did the men die?” the first man asked.
“They were on fire. They’d set the Camerons on fire, and then they both caught fire, too,” the cop answered. “So far, the detectives figure that the two men were trying to get the little girl in the fire and she got out of the way and they fell in or something”
“But the other man’s body. He was found on the other side of the room, burnt to a crisp, but nothing around him had caught fire,” the man said.
“If you’re thinking that he was set on fire, you may be right. We think that he was on his feet when he caught fire and he was trying to get to water. Where he was found was near the kitchen,” the cop continued.
“Why wasn’t a path left, smoke trails from when he passed?” the man pressed.
“Don’t tell me you think the Camerons were witches, too,” the cop groaned.
Dove lay there, terrified. She knew the voice now. It was Jack Bainbridge.
“Wait, your brother was one of the killers,” the cop said. “No one in the department goes for that witch-craft junk. William was a loony.”
Mr. Jack’s voice was tight with anger. “That family was evil! The little girl – she had power. She set him on fire, I know it! My daughter saw her do things at school. She doesn’t lie.”
“Jack, you know I don’t believe in that stuff. Besides, Portia is six years old – kids always have imaginations,” the cop said.
Dove heard Mr. Jack turn away. “I’ll find the rest of those witches – they should all be killed.”
“Watch it, Jack, those words could be used against you,” the cop warned.
There was the sound of a car door slamming. The other one closed, and the engine revved up. The two men left.
Dove crawled out of her box and looked around. She would be safe for now… One of the men she had killed was bratty Portia’s favorite Uncle Billy? The one she had set on fire? Dove didn’t even see who it was behind her as the baseball bat cracked downwards…

Dove awoke groggy, her vision blurred, her head throbbing. She blinked to clear it and saw that she was shackled to a wall. Her wrists and ankles ached, and she was sore. She looked around the dank cellar. The only light that came in was dimmed through the dirty windowpane. The whole room was bare. There was no furniture, only a flight of stairs up to the rest of the house and a fireplace in the opposite wall.
Dove felt the weight of her crystal on the chain around her neck and relaxed. She was an untrained witch who had very little control over her Power – it just seemed to ride along with her mood.
She tensed when she heard footsteps above. There was a rusty shriek as the cellar door swung open, letting in a shaft of light from the kitchen. Footsteps descended, and Dove’s breath caught when Mr. Jack appeared before her. He reached out and tugged the chain dangling from somewhere above. The bulb overhead flickered weakly before steadying its dim glow.
“Well, little wench, I see that you’ve come to,” he said. His voice was cold and hateful.
Dove glared at him.
“I know what you are, and I know what you did,” he said to her, walking closer. He was carrying a metal poker, swinging it like a cane.
“Little Dove, I know you’re a killer,” he whispered, leaning down to leer in his face.
Dove felt the energy humming around him. The crystal at her throat was blazing with Power. She could almost see the energy dancing in front of her eyes. She reached out with her mind to grab it – and yanked! Mr. Jack gave a howl of pain and reeled back, one hand over his eye.
“Jordan! Logan! Come fast – and bring the cross with you,” he yelled.
Dove struggled against her bonds, glaring. She knew that the key for her cuffs had to be somewhere, and she began calling to the metal, searching for the one that would be the key. Her concentration was disrupted as footsteps thundered overhead and three people spilled into the cellar. Dove didn’t recognized the two boys – she figured they were Logan and Jordan. But she would recognize the porcelain doll face surrounded by black curls anywhere, with its spiteful green eyes. Portia.
One of the boys ran to the fireplace and quickly started a blaze. The other helped his father to his feet. Blood was spilling between his fingers. Mr. Jack lowered his hand and Dove saw three gashes down his face like he’d been scratched.
“Daddy, what did she do?” Portia gasped.
“Work of the devil!” he shouted and scooted backwards. He grabbed the poker and waved it at the boy who was at the fire.
“Logan, here, take this,” he ordered. Logan trotted forwards and took the poker. He thrust one end into the fire and let it heat up.
“Jordan, did you bring the cross?” Mr. Jack asked.
Jordan nodded and handed him a crucifix. When he turned, Dove caught a glimpse of metal from a bulge in his pocket.
“Keep an eye on her,” Mr. Jack ordered.
Dove’s heart skipped several beats when Jordan pulled the bulge out of his pocket – it was a gun.
Portia stood before Dove, her mouth curled into a sneer of contempt.
“Witch!” she spat.
“Give her the mark, and when we pray, she’ll die,” Mr. Jack said.
Dove would have laughed if Jordan wasn’t standing before her with a gun. She didn’t know whether or not it was loaded, but she didn’t really want to find out either.
She stared as Logan approached her warily, holding the poker like a sword. The tip of it was white hot, and Dove stared, transfixed.
“Do it!” Portia shrilled.
Logan lunged, and Dove didn’t have time to scream as the poker grazed her shoulder. She could feel the fire from across the cellar, and her body went numb as her mind rose up to grab the Power. The fire shot up in the hearth, the flames suddenly ten feet high.
“Start it!” Mr. Jack yelled. Logan lunged with the poker again. He stopped when Portia screamed for him. Turning, he saw the fire running along the floor like spilled water, tongues of flame lapping at their feet.
“Make it stop!” Portia wailed, crying.
“No. Start praying!” Mr. Jack yelled.
What a bunch of superstitious idiots, Dove thought as she frantically searched the cellar for the key. Suddenly it came at her. She could hear the other four in the room yelling what sounded like the ‘Hail Mary’, but right then she didn’t care if they were yelling Nirvana, she just wanted to get out.
The key flew towards her, missed and bounced off the wall, clattering to a stop. Dove inched her foot out towards the key that was right near the flames, cringing from the heat. She managed to get the key curled into her toes and lifted it. She got the key up to her hands and unlocked herself. She dropped all the chains and stood in the corner, trapped by her own fire while the other four were stuck together in a ring of flame. The stairs were blocked off and Dove could hear the sirens from fire trucks. She reached up and closed her fist over the crystal, focusing. Suddenly, all the roar of the flames vanished and the only sound was Portia’s screaming. Dove bolted for the stairs, but going up meant going into the smoke. Power burst from her and glass rained down.Dove scrambled out the window, not caring if she was cut, and ran.
She ignored people yelling for her and pushed away anyone who came too close. But she heard Portia’s shrill scream.
“You killed Uncle Billy!”

Nick went up for another breath before diving again. He hugged the sandy floor, looking for something, anything that might suggest the presence of her necklace. He reached out to brush aside kelp, pawed through rock, but to no avail. He didn’t see anything. He went up for air again, but as he went he caught a glimmer of silver through the bubbles around him. He gasped in air and dove down again, searching frantically. He turned his head this way and that, hoping to glimpse the silver again. There! He pulled himself down further until he was sitting on the sea floor. Glancing around, he saw that he was at the rock pools that were usually exposed during low tide. He saw the shimmer again, but he was running out of oxygen. In a last desperate attempt, Nick reached out and grabbed. His fingers closed over something cold and metal before he shot upwards. He broke the surface and greedily sucked in great gulps of air. He shook the wet hair out of his face and waded back to shore, hoping to get inside before the drink wore off.
Nick trotted up the beach to his clothes. Trey was nowhere in sight. He toweled himself dry and pulled on his clothes. Then he remembered his trophy from the dive. He picked up the silver sheath and stared at it in wonder. Raven’s necklace was wound around the hilt. Nick untangled the chain carefully and slipped the necklace into his pocket. He examined the knife closely. The hilt was real silver. He tried to pry the knife loose from its sheath, but it was probably rusted and stuck. Something about it was drawing him in… He tucked the knife into the back of his jeans and headed up to the house.
“Why are you all wet?” Laurel asked as Nick stepped into the kitchen.
“Went for a dip,” Nick answered.
Laurel frowned at him. “It’s too cold out.”
Realization dawned when Nick set the thermos down on the counter.
“You used the elixir?” she gasped. Then she frowned again. “I didn’t have any left over.”
Nick just shrugged. He hung up his towel in the bathroom and went back into the kitchen. The rest of the group was enthralled in some TV show. He leaned against the counter and pulled the knife out of his belt, turning it over in his hands. Something about the cold metal that lay in his hands was so familiar… He went over to the refrigerator and got out the tub of margarine. He opened it and dipped a knife into it. Then he set about trying to grease the blade and pry it free of the sheath. Laurel was occupied making lunch for the others.
Nick cursed as the knife slipped and cut his finger. He put the knife down and ran over to the sink to put his hand under cold water.
“What are you doing?” Laurel asked, peeking over his shoulder. “You cut yourself? Smart. Here, put this moss on it, it’ll stop any infection.” She reached into the little pouch of herbs she kept in her pocket and handed him a small clump of moss. Nick pressed it to his finger obediently. Laurel peered at the knife.
“Where did you find that?” she asked.
“I found it when I was out swimming,” Nick answered.
Laurel reached out and picked up the knife. She tried unsheathing it several times, but to no avail. She turned the knife over in her hands again, staring at it, her mouth falling open.
“Where did you say you found this?” she asked again, her voice rising with excitement.
Nick glanced over his shoulder at her. “In one of the low-tide tide pools,” he answered. He reached out and took the knife from her. He rinsed the margarine off of it and then tried unsheathing it. After a few unsuccessful attempts, Nick managed to wrench the blade and sheath apart. There was a metallic grinding noise as the two slid apart. The steel blade hummed with energy, seeming to glow with a life of its own. Nick turned the blade over, testing its edge. He tested the point against his thumb. Laurel was watching him intently. Nick didn’t seem to notice she was there. Instead, the faint glimmer of carvings caught his eye. He tilted the blade in the light. There it was – the symbol of the half-moon, half-sun.
Laurel shrieked and ran into the den, babbling at a hundred miles a minute. Nick looked up, startled, as if just noticing her presence.
Laurel returned to the kitchen, dragging Diana by the wrist.
“What’s it?” she asked as she was pulled into the kitchen.
Laurel pointed to the blade Nick was holding.
“That’sit - that’sthebladeRaventoldusabout - it’sthelastMasterTool - !” Laurel gasped out.
“Slow down,” Adam suggested, making calming motions.
Laurel paused to catch her breath, then spoke slowly.
“That blade Nick’s holding – it’s the final Master Tool,” Laurel said.
Nick nodded. “Maybe. There sure is a lot of Power in it.”
Cassie reached for the knife. Nick handed it to her and leaned back against the counter, listening to the others talk.
“He found it in a tide pool,” Laurel said. “Remember what Raven told us? That the final Master Tool was where Diana’s land meets the land. Diana’s land is the sea. Diana was the goddess of the moon, and the moon controls the tides of the sea. Everything Raven said makes sense. The only place Diana’s land met land is the beach, right? And tide pools belong to the land for some of the day and to the sea for the other.It’s the Master Tool.”
Adam looked at Nick. “And you found it…how? It’s high tide out there. All the pools are submerged.”
Nick lifted his head defiantly, but his eyes seemed to show that he really didn’t care. “Who says guys can’t brew stuff? I know how to make that Ovaltine stuff we used at the party. I went swimming.”
Adam’s eyes darkened. “So you knew where to find the knife?”
Nick reached into his pocket and drew out the necklace. “I was looking for this, all right? It was wrapped around the hilt of the knife.”
Adam stared at the swinging blue pendant. “What is that?” He reached for it.
Nick held it away. “It’s Raven’s,” he said shortly.
Adam backed off. “Oh.”
“I can’t wait for the sun to go down,” Diana said happily. “Then we can have a meeting with the others!”

Raven opened her eyes to find AJ and Trey standing over her.
“Are you all right?” AJ asked, concern written all over his face.
Raven groaned and sat up. “What time is it?”
“Five,” Trey told her, looking at his watch.
Raven cursed. She tried to get off the couch but tangled in the blanket and landed on the floor in a heap. AJ and Trey pulled her up.
“What’s wrong? Why were you screaming in your sleep?” AJ asked.
“Nightmares,” Raven muttered. She scanned the living room but her duffel bag was nowhere in sight. “Where’s my bag?”
Trey handed it to her.
“You never answered,” AJ pressed. “Are you all right?”
Raven nodded. She reached into the bag and pulled out her gun. She checked that it was loaded, put a few extra clips into her pockets and started for the door.
“Where are you going and what is a girl like you doing with a gun?” AJ demanded, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to a stop.
Raven gritted her teeth and shook herself out of his grip. She didn’t want to waste any time but she knew he deserved an explanation.
“Those kids from my high school are hunters,” she said quickly. “They’re down here after us, and the fight begins at sundown, which is at five-nineteen tonight, so I only have” – she grabbed Trey’s wrist and looked at his watch – “thirteen minutes to get out there and fight.”
AJ frowned. “I thought you were leaving.”
“I promised to defend the members of the Circle even if it costs my life,” Raven answered. “I keep my promises.”
“Trey, go in the kitchen and get the two biggest knives you can find,” AJ ordered.
Trey hurried to obey – he knew that tone of voice.
Raven stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“I’m your best friend – I’m coming, too,” AJ told her, pulling on his jacket.
Trey returned with a meat cleaver and the knife AJ used to hack through bone when he felt like barbecuing ribs.
Raven’s eyes widened, but she shrugged and pulled open the door.
“Let’s go!”

“Chris – you’ll never guess what we found!” Melanie cried as she flew out the front door.
“Mel – now is not the time to go hyper on me,” Chris told her. “Listen – the Bainbridge trio and the kids they could get from the high school are down here, and they’re coming after us as soon as the sun’s down.”
But Melanie wasn’t listening – she was babbling on about something and trying to get him into the house.
Chris had never seen her like this before – maybe she’d eaten some of Laurel’s tofu. He had no way to get her attention, and he didn’t want to hit her…Chris grabbed Melanie, tilted her head back and kissed her on the mouth. Melanie froze in his grip, then pushed him away.
“Chris!” she cried.
“Now I have your attention,” he said. “Listen, the Outsiders from the island are here, and they’re armed, and they’re going to attack.”
Melanie’s eyes grew wide. She turned and ran into the house, screaming for Adam.
All but one member of the Circle was clustered in the den, panicked and afraid.
“How many came to the store?” Adam asked.
“Only the Bainbridge three,” Suzan answered. “But they said there were more of them, and I don’t think they were bluffing.”
“What can we do?” Sean asked, looking like he was about to cry. Deborah was armed with a knife from the kitchen.
“We shouldn’t hurt them if we don’t have to,” Laurel tried to protest.
“Sorry, but I’m with Chris and Doug on this,” Adam said. “I don’t want anyone killed, but we’ll do what we have to do.”
Chris and Doug nodded in agreement. Deborah went into the kitchen and came back with more knives.
“Load up,” she said with a barbaric grin.
“I wish we had a full Circle – we need all the Power we can get,” Cassie said.
Nick wished Raven was there, too.
“When does the sun go down?” Sean asked.
Suzan looked down at her watch.It read 5:1 –
Deborah threw herself at Diana and knocked her down as the windows around them exploded inwards.
“What’s happening?” Laurel cried, pushing herself up.
“Stay down,” Doug warned, pushing her down again.
Nick was on his feet with his knife out. He cast a hunting look around the room, switching the blade back and forth between his hands, his body tense. Adam stood up and helped Cassie to her feet.
“What was that?” Suzan asked, getting up and heaving Sean with her.
“I don’t know,” Adam answered, “But I didn’t like it. Someone call the cops.”
“But Adam – !” Melanie began to protest, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.
Chris, pulling Melanie to her feet, stared out the window, his eyes wide.
“What are you staring at?” Deborah asked, lifting her head.
They all stared, unable to move, as the sun cast its last rays, crimson spilling across the horizon like a splash of blood.
Diana went to the kitchen to get the phone. The others stood in the middle of the den, surveying the mess grimly. Diana returned from the kitchen.
“The police are on their way,” she said. Laurel had got a broom from the cupboard and was beginning to sweep up the glass.
“I don’t like this,” Nick murmured. He and Adam went around the house. All the windows were broken and glass was everywhere. There was no sign of anyone outside.
“What do you think broke the windows?” Cassie asked.
“I haven’t seen any stones or anything,” Melanie said.
“Maybe it was a low-frequency noise,” Chris suggested.
The others turned to him in surprise. How would he know about anything like that?
Chris, seeming to know what they were thinking, grinned.
“If you get a bass guitar and tune it just right, it can shatter a window.”
Doug’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah, I remember that! Mom totally blew a fuse!”
The brothers burst into laughter.
“And I was just beginning to think he could use his brain,” Melanie muttered, rolling her eyes.
There was a sound of wood hitting cement and suddenly the room was dark.
Nick whirled and saw wooden boards being held over the windows.
“They’re shutting us in!” he cried, and went to one of the windows. He tried pushing the wood back, but it was being held firmly.
Melanie sniffed the air warily. “What’s that smell?”
Adam looked at her in alarm. “What smell?”
“Look!” Sean cried, pointing. White smoke was billowing in from the hallway.
“Everybody down,” Adam ordered. He grabbed Cassie and pushed her down, shielding her body with his.
“Try not to breathe it in!” Melanie warned, but it was too late. Deborah collapsed to her knees, coughing and gasping. She keeled over and hit the floor with a dull thud. Sean and Suzan had collapsed on the floor in a heap. The rest of them kept themselves on the floor, trying to escape the smoke, but it curled towards them like a white wraith floating along the floor to bring them to their death.
Nick was up and pounding at one of the wooden boards. His knuckles were cut and bleeding, but then he took out his knife and drove it through the wood – the plywood board was thin and the blade went straight through and out the other side. There were shouts and curses but the board stayed in place.
“No!” Diana yelled as Nick sank back to the floor.
She paid for the use of her lungs as she began to cough and choke on the gas. The smoke drifted over them, shrouding them in a soft mist until they couldn’t even see each other. They fought to the last as darkness took over.

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