The Secret Circle:
Out of the Darkness
The Secret Circle and its characters aren't mine – they belong to L. J. Smith and HarperCollins Publishers.
Chapter Sixteen
"Somebody's watching us," Sean said.
Conversation ceased. The Circle members turned to stare at him.
"There," Sean said, nodding sharply toward the place where he'd seen the glasses.
The Circle members looked.
"Raj, wait by me," Adam said quietly. The dog trotted to his side and stood, still looking intently at the top of the bluffs.
And then Sean heard footsteps crunching over the gravel path leading to the steep steps carved long ago in the stone.
"Sean's right," Deborah said. "They're over there. By the steps."
The members of the Circle stood and faced the bluff. A bearded man Sean vaguely remembered seeing around town started walking down the steps, followed by a shorter man wearing a camouflage jacket and a blonde woman with glasses and a dark brown trench coat. More outsiders followed. Sean recognized many of them: the outsider students the Club had faced in the school cafeteria, other students from the high school, teachers from all three New Salem schools, the pastor of the big brick church near the library; people who worked at the markets and auto repair shop, at the post office and the restaurants. Even a nurse and a couple of doctors from the urgent care clinic were there.
"Good evening," Diana said politely as they approached. She stepped toward them, standing in front of the other members of the Circle. "May we help you with something?"
A tall, grey-haired man Sean remembered from elementary school, but whose name he had forgotten, stepped onto the beach and walked toward her, stopping a few feet away. "Yes. You – all of you – can leave New Salem. Witches are not welcome here anymore – not since you've started killing us."
Sean flinched. He looked down, staring intently at a tiny fragment of shell on the sand. Laurel glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. She stepped forward, joining Diana – and standing protectively in front of Sean. Chris, Doug, and Deborah joined her.
"I see," Diana said. Her smile faded. "I'm afraid we can't help you, then. We can't leave New Salem; it's our home. And we haven't killed anyone –"
"Yes. You did. You killed James Fogle – the principal at New Salem High. You killed his replacement, Jack Brunswick. You killed Jeffrey Lovejoy and Kori Henderson, two students at the high school."
"We did not!" Chris yelled. "Kori was our sister, you –"
Laurel elbowed him. He glanced at her, and stopped yelling.
"We didn't kill anybody," Laurel said flatly. "Even if we had, we never would have killed Kori. She was one of us."
But that wasn't entirely true. The Circle hadn't killed anyone but Black John – if they had killed him. But Sean had. He had killed Mr. Fogle and Jeffrey and Kori and Black John. And he'd let Black John kill Mrs. Howard.
Don't think about that. Not now! He looked up, glancing nervously at the Circle members surrounding him.
Diana was nodding, still watching the outsider. "We will not leave New Salem," she said firmly.
"Yeah," Doug said. "We, like, live here, you know?"
"Not anymore," someone said.
"We're giving you a choice – leave, or suffer the consequences."
"We aren't leaving."
"This is our home."
"You can't make us leave. You have no authority …"
A big man wearing a red ski coat laughed. "Of course we do. The Bible tells us 'thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.' It's very specific."
"It also says 'thou shalt not kill,'" Diana said quietly. "That's one of its Ten Commandments."
"That Commandment refers to people," the red-coated man said with a sneer.
The flames of the bonfire blazed as Adam stepped forward to face him. "Are you trying to say –"
He stopped when the man pulled a gun from under his coat and aimed it at Adam. Raj growled. "Hush," Adam said quietly. "Wait by me." The big dog fell silent, but he didn't relax his stance or look away from the man.
Two big outsider boys and a scornful-looking girl stepped forward to stand beside the red-coated man. One of the boys drew a pistol. A tall woman in a beige trench coat joined them. She, too, carried a pistol. She was followed by one of the outsider boys who'd confronted the Club members in the back room. The boy carried a shotgun. A small group of outsider men wearing camouflage and also carrying shotguns stepped forward.
They couldn't be serious – could they? Surely they didn't really want to kill people, Witch or not. It didn't surprise Sean that many outsiders hated Witches, or that a few hated them enough to kill. But the whole group? Many of them had lived in New Salem all their lives. They'd never been friendly – not to him, anyway. But he'd never sensed hatred from most of them. He hadn't realized that they wanted him or the other Circle members dead.
Sean looked carefully at the outsiders standing behind the ones in front holding the firearms. A few held weapons of their own. Mr. Mather, the elderly man whose family owned and operated the island's sporting goods store, pointed a shotgun at Faye. A man in a business suit was watching the armed outsiders impatiently. He carried no weapon, but seemed pleased at the prospect of violence. So did some of the high school students standing nearby.
A bearded man who worked at the hardware store and the woman who owned the bakery across the street from it, three middle-aged women who taught at New Salem Middle School, several students from the boys' and girls' varsity basketball teams … more than half of the outsiders were just standing there, waiting to see what would happen. Some were staring uneasily at the people holding the guns.
Maybe nothing would happen. No one was moving. Even the man in the red coat was hesitating. Sean realized that the outsiders probably didn't want to kill anyone in front of so many witnesses. A few of them probably did want the Circle members, and their families, dead. Most probably just wanted them gone.
But New Salem was their town. It had always belonged to the Witches of Crowhaven Road. Their ancestors founded it, built the earliest homes and businesses, provided a means of making a living for the outsiders who'd decided to settle here. They had every right to stay – and to stay without being threatened.
That wouldn't happen unless the Circle and the outsiders could make peace with each other – if not an agreement to fully accept each other, then at least a truce, an agreement to avoid violence.
But no one was moving. No one was saying anything. Everyone was on edge; the tension was almost palpable. Anything could set someone off, and someone could get hurt. Or killed. Someone had to stop that from happening. He had to stop that from happening. It would give him a chance to atone for what he had done before.
But he didn't know how. And he couldn't move. He just stood there, looking from one person to another.
It was Faye who broke the impasse. Her expression was eerily calm, except for the fury smoldering in her golden eyes, as she stalked toward the outsiders. "Get out of here," she said flatly. Her voice was as cold and hard as steel.
For a moment it seemed as if at least a few of the outsiders would obey her. But then the man in the red coat stepped toward Faye. "You get out of here, Witch," he growled. He raised the gun, aiming it directly at Faye's head. A soft metallic click shattered the silence.
Faye's eyes started to glow, and she opened her mouth to speak.
For some reason, Sean found that he could move. He stepped in front of Faye, standing between her and the outsider. "Um, c-could … could you, uh, put your gun down? Please?" he stammered.
The outsider didn't even glance at Sean. He stood, glaring at Faye over Sean's head as if Sean weren't even there.
"Get out of my way, Sean," Faye said.
Sean turned to face Faye. She wasn't looking at him, either. She was glaring at the man in the red coat.
"No," he said. "Faye, stop it."
This time she looked at him. "I said, get out of my way!" Her voice was dangerous. Her narrowed golden eyes glowed ferociously. She took a step toward him, and then another.
He closed his eyes for just a moment – and he was sitting inside the cave, surrounded by solid granite. He opened his eyes.
Faye was standing directly in front of him, so close that he had to tilt his head back and look up to meet her eyes, glaring ferociously down at him.
He didn't look away – and his mind remained clear. No presence insinuated itself inside; no pressure clouded his thoughts or compelled him to do anything.
Get out of my way – now! He heard her mental command from inside the granite cave – and felt it rebound off the rock.
Faye actually took a step back. Her eyes were wide and astonished as she stared at him.
"Don't, Faye. They're … they're neighbors," he said.
"Sean's right," Laurel said from beside him. "They are neighbors."
Diana was standing on Sean's other side, quietly watching the outsiders. Cassie was beside her, muttering something about not all of the outsiders being neighbors. Adam, Nick, Deborah, Doug, and Chris were standing near Cassie. They all looked ready to jump the first outsider to make a move or fire a shot.
"They aren't acting particularly neighborly," Suzan said.
Sean startled. He turned. Suzan had stepped up between him and Laurel.
The woman in the trench coat was speaking. "You're Witches. You're no neighbors of mine."
A dark murmur of agreement came from the crowd of outsiders.
"That's right. They're no neighbors of ours. They're Witches – and Witches must die." A man in a white and black camouflage coat raised his shotgun, aiming it at Faye.
"By stones," Diana said suddenly. "Not guns."
"What?" The man turned away from Faye to stare at Diana, aiming the shotgun at her.
"What are you talking about?"
"That's what your Bible says. A man or a woman who has a familiar spirit or is a wizard shall be put to death by stones," Diana said. "It's very specific."
"That's right," Sean said. "That's what it says. Mediums and psychics, too."
Faye chuckled. "Absolutely. Also anyone who consults the spirits of the dead or practices divination. All of those folks have got to be put to death by stones. Right away."
"Yes," Adam said. "You'll also have to execute people who fail to honor the Sabbath and keep it holy, and people who commit adultery. Also people who curse their mothers or their fathers."
"And remember, you're not supposed to cut your hair or trim your beard," Doug said to a short-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard. The man frowned at him.
"Or get tattoos," Chris added, looking at a big man wearing a motorcycle jacket and a Harley Davidson cap. The big man grinned.
"Or eat fruit until at least five years have passed since you planted the tree," Laurel said. "And you're not supposed to eat anything with blood in it."
Adam nodded. "If you're going to follow the archaic laws, you ought to do it right."
Most of the outsiders were staring at them, now. Staring at him. And the Circle was standing beside him – on both sides – and behind him. Too many people … He was surrounded …
He tensed, panic beginning to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. The cave … you're safe … surrounded by Earth, by granite. He felt his breathing slow down and steady. He opened his eyes. The mob of outsiders was still there. Most of the weapons were held at rest, aiming at the ground, but the man in the red coat was aiming his gun at Sean … no, at Faye; she was still standing behind him. The man in the white and black camouflage jacket and a few other outsiders had their guns raised, too.
"Even if we accepted the Bible as the ultimate authority over our lives – which we don't – Biblical law is not the law of the United States," Diana was saying. "Neither U.S. nor Massachusetts law gives you the right to kill someone just because they have a different religion than you."
"Religion?" somebody scoffed.
"Yes," Adam said. "Religion. Wicca – Witchcraft – is a legally recognized religions in this country."
"Yeah, right," someone scoffed.
"It's true," Diana said. "But even if it wasn't, there is no law in this country that gives one person the right to kill another. Not without a trial and conviction of a heinous crime. There has been no conviction here, no trial. None of us has even been charged with any crime."
"Except a couple of traffic violations," Deborah said.
Suzan chuckled. So did several of the outsiders. Even Nick smiled.
"Sometimes the law is wrong," said a heavy-set man Sean had seen around school. "Sometimes a person has to take matters into his own hands."
Diana nodded. "That's true. But laws prohibiting murder are never wrong." She turned to the man in the red coat. "It's hurting other people that's wrong. Even your Bible – whatever else it may say – says not to kill, not to murder other human beings. It says to treat others as you wish to be treated."
"She's right," a woman's voice called. Mrs. Jackson, the new principal, made her way through the group of outsiders to stand between the Circle and the man in the red coat. "Whatever these children may have done, you can hardly … execute them," she said.
"They killed two principals!" a man wearing a baseball cap said. "And they hanged a student!"
"There's no evidence of that," Mrs. Jackson said. "There isn't even any evidence that Mr. Brunswick is dead. It's possible that he simply left New Salem. These children were interrogated – the police questioned everyone who lives on Crowhaven Road. They didn't find enough evidence to indict anyone."
"We don't need evidence," the heavy-set man who'd spoken before said. "We know for sure that at least two of the victims were murdered. The Lovejoy boy didn't hang himself – and James Fogle didn't drop that two-ton piece of granite on himself. And we know that at least some of these children have … antisocial tendencies." He looked pointedly at Deborah and Nick, and Faye, and Chris and Doug, and Sean.
Sean flushed, but he refused to look away. He stared back, as calmly as he could. The heavy-set man looked away first.
"It's not their fault, Scott," one of the teachers from the middle school murmured quietly to the man. "Most people around here are afraid of them. James Fogle was. Nobody's tried to discipline them."
"We are not the ones who need discipline," Faye said coldly. "None of us is carrying a weapon or threatening anybody."
"Is there something in particular that we've done to offend you?" Cassie asked the group of outsiders. "Perhaps we can come to an agreement to allow us all to live in peace."
"You're a Witch! And a murderer!" The red-coated man raised his gun and fired. The shot rang out loudly. Sean flinched, and closed his eyes. A dull thud as the bullet hit stone was audible in the silence.
He opened his eyes, and stared. The bullet was lying on the sand in front of Cassie, a few feet away. A bright light flared up in front of Faye. It stopped abruptly and slid to the ground several feet in front of Sean, burning for a few seconds before vanishing. There was no granite anywhere to be seen – only in the shield in his mind's eye. He stared at Cassie, who was staring at the bullet.
"Whose shield?" Adam said abruptly, looking around the Circle.
Sean opened his mouth, looking at Cassie, but he couldn't make a sound.
"Sean?" Laurel asked.
He nodded mutely.
Cassie met his eyes. "Thank you," she said. "Will you share your shield with all of us? I'll link us together with the whole Circle and with the Master Tools."
He nodded again, and dropped his shield; almost instantly a presence entered his mind. He flinched involuntarily and instinctively flung his shield back up. The presence remained. Sean felt the combined power of Cassie's mind and the minds of the other Circle members, and the power of the Master Tools Cassie was wearing, join together. And the Circle was surrounded by granite, somehow grown to proportions large enough to shield everyone. The granite shield shimmered in the firelight. It was translucent, like thick, warped glass; Sean could see the outsiders staring at them through it.
No one was firing.
Mrs. Jackson was holding the red-coated man's gun, staring at it in disgust. She dropped it gingerly to the sand. "Get out of here," she said to him. "If those children hadn't been Witches, and able to defend themselves, you would have killed that girl. And you would have been the murderer."
"No. Stay right there, sir," a vaguely familiar woman's voice said. The detective who'd interrogated him shortly after the disappearance of "Mr. Brunswick" was striding through the crowd toward him, holding a pair of handcuffs. "You are under arrest for attempted homicide." Sean turned away as she handcuffed the man and led him away.
The mob was slowly starting to break up. Several of the outsiders were quietly walking away. Others were watching the ones who'd been armed intently, making sure they kept their guns away, or at least pointed away from people.
Most of the remaining outsiders were staring at the granite outcrop that had appeared out of nowhere, and at the Circle members protected by it.
"I would like to talk with you, if I may," Mrs. Jackson called out from the other side of the shield. Mr. Mather, from the sporting goods store, and several students, and all three of the teachers from the middle school, and the woman who owned the bakery and the bearded man from the hardware store, and a few others Sean didn't recognize, were standing beside her.
Cassie, Diana, and Faye looked at each other. Faye nodded.
Cassie closed her eyes, and the granite shield disappeared.
The outsiders stepped closer.
"Sean, come sit down," Suzan whispered, taking his hand and tugging gently.
Only then did he notice that he was shaking. His legs were trembling like jelly. His heart was pounding.
He sat beside Suzan on the sand. He hadn't really just faced down a group of outsiders – had he? Surely he hadn't just faced down Faye?
"Thank you, Sean." It was Cassie.
Sean looked up. Cassie was looking at him seriously – respectfully.
Sean felt himself flush. He was still shaking, and his heart was still racing; he wanted nothing more than to run, to get away from everyone, away from their eyes. But he didn't run. "You're welcome," he muttered.
Laurel was grinning at him. "Way to go! You saved Cassie – and you won that battle for us!"
He nodded, and looked up. The outsiders were standing nearby, waiting.
"Please, have a seat," Diana said politely, gesturing to the sand beside the bonfire still burning on the beach.
"Thank you," Mrs. Jackson said. She and the other outsiders joined the Circle members beside the fire.
Sean stared into the flames, not really listening to the conversation.
He kept seeing the face of the red-coated outsider as he pulled the trigger. The man's expression had been eager – and alert. He had been completely aware of what he'd tried to do, and excited about it. That man had wanted to harm Cassie – to kill her. And he would have, if Sean's shield hadn't protected her.
Sean had killed three people – but he hadn't meant to hurt anyone. He'd been weak. He hadn't been able to stop the dark energy and Black John from controlling him, and making him do things he never should have done – things that he never would have done, had Black John not forced him to.
Faye gave in to Black John, too. Sean hadn't really thought about that before, but he hadn't been the only one to work for Black John. Faye had worked for him, too; and she had always been a lot stronger than he. Sean didn't know what exactly she'd done – and he doubted that she'd killed anybody – but she had seemed to want to work for Black John. She might have killed, too, had Black John asked her to.
He was a victim, like Kori, Jeffrey, Mr. Fogle, and Mrs. Howard. They had lost their lives – and he had lost his soul. But maybe – someday – he would find it again.
He looked up. The Circle was gathered together with a group of outsiders, talking.
Laurel met his eyes, and smiled. "Sean saved her," she said. "He shielded Cassie from that bullet, and he would have shielded the rest of us, too, if that man had fired again, or if someone else had. He even shielded the outsider, when one of us attacked him in self-defense."
Faye smiled. "Instinct," she said calmly.
Laurel was right. He had saved lives. He had joined the Circle and helped defeat Black John before the hurricane could land at Cape Cod or Boston or New Salem; before it could kill people. And he had stood up to the outsiders, and to Faye. He'd even saved Cassie and the outsider man. Not that the outsider man deserved to be saved, but he deserved prison – not death. Nobody deserved to be burned alive.
Maybe Sean had started to atone for what he had done before. Maybe he would find his soul again.
Or maybe he already had.